Disclaimer: The works of Type-Moon and Jō Taketsuki are their own despite my most fervent wishes. This is a fan work and if anyone does pay me for it the only thing it will accomplish is to get me into trouble. This is being done purely for fun, constructive criticism is welcome, and flames will be ignored. Please be gentle though, this is the first fanfic I've put on the net.

Rightoh, here is the long awaited chapter. It would have been out somewhat earlier, but sadly my Beta came down with a combination of sickness and real life interference. He was finally able to get the edited chapter to me, but I have as of yet not received his comments on it. I know that at least half of it was to his satisfaction, so I'll put this chapter up now and make any alterations we agree on later. So if you are reading this for the second time and notice some changes you now know why.

This has not been a very easy chapter to write. On the one hand, I've been having Persona 3 Portable distracting me and on the other I've had my muse playing the coy minx from one day to the next. The main problem is that while I have the next major arc more or less planned out in my head I still hadn't worked out the steps to getting there. As a result this is something of a transition chapter.

On another note the latest Campione! light novel is out, and by the looks of it this one will finally answer some of the mysteries surrounding the King of the End. I have to say that I'm quite looking forwards to finding out what they are; I just hope that they don't end up contradicting anything that I've come up with for this fic. For the most part I've tried to keep to the canon, but where there wasn't any info out yet I had to rely upon my own imagination, let's hope I wasn't too off.

Also the new Fate/Stay Night anime has now kicked off, and that's something I've really been looking forward to. With this one the main plot will come from the Unlimited Blade Works route, though I hope that it gets changed enough to let Illya survive, the bit where Gil kills her made me almost cry when I read it. Anyway, I hope the anime will be better than the anime movie that came out a while back. The art and visuals were gorgeous, but the final battle with Gil was a bit of a disappointment. I mean Shirou finally uses his Reality Marble and then all he Traces is one copy of Caliburn and that's it. I thought the whole point of him using Unlimited Blade Works was so that he could match and overcome Gilgamesh at the whole 'spam swords' thing. A real disappointment. This new one looks very promising so far, hopefully Rider will get to strut her stuff a bit more as well.

Oh, one more bit of news. Sometime in the last couple of monthes this story passed the one million hits mark. I am honestly astoished that it has received such attention, but I celebrated the occasion with my family and would like to thank all my readers for their following of this humble fanfiction.

SPOILERS.

Part of this chapter was my trying to portray Shirou's difficulty in dealing with his feelings in regards to what he went through whilst under Venus' control. As I mention in earlier chapters I have only an amateur's knowledge of psychology, but it seemed to me that such an experience wasn't something that should be just brushed aside. On top of that there's the fact that Shirou himself isn't the most shining example of mental health to begin with, even in the Heaven's Feel route, in which he arguably shows the most emotional maturity.

In the end I thought that directionless sullen anger was the most realistic reaction I could see coming from him, especially if he couldn't consciously remember the cause of his ire. This in turn led me to thinking about how best he could deal with it and the idea of a martial arts sensei helping him to sooth his turbulent emotions just popped into my head. Another symptom is a desire for greater control over his environment. In this case it isn't at a level that is irrational or harmful, but it is the reason for Shirou moving to acquire more power and influence.

This chapter also sees the revealing of the true identity of the travelling god as well as the goddess that he seeks to recruit to his cause. As with Tiamat Odysseus was a character that I've fully intended to be a part of this fic since I typed out the first word. Since Perseus was a hero that was a god in truth it seemed to me that the same could be true of others. When I started choosing what gods Shirou would slay I was originally going to go with a 'theme' that his enemies would all be Greek heroes, in fact originally his third god slain was planned to be Achilles.

In the end that struck me as a tad contrived and I decided to go with a bit more variety, though now that I think about it save for Angra Mainyu every god he's slain has had at least some tie to Greek mythology. I honestly hadn't noticed that until now.

Anyway, I'd decided this before the thirteenth volume of Campione! came out and Odysseus got a mention in it as a former victim of Circe and a possible candidate for the true identity of the King of the End. I've tried to keep the relationship between him and Circe as something that remains 'in canon' while still running to my own original plan; I hope you all enjoy the result.

Once again I would like to thank my Beta for his help in getting this chapter ready for my readers.


Chapter Twenty Four: What Comes Tomorrow

The three of them were gathered in the darkened room so that none would be able to overhear their deliberations.

"So, we are all agreed?" The first stated, his tone grave.

"Yes, if we are to achieve our ambitions we must see to getting Emiya-san to join us." There was a definite anticipatory note to the voice of the second.

"No! I won't accept this!" the sharp declaration of the third cracked like a whip in the darkened room. "After what he's done I will never accept HIM!"

"Don't be foolish, you know the kind of resources he has. Without those, our dream can never be realized! Is that what you want? To never see that glorious paradise?!"

Under the stern glares of his compatriots the third figure lost some of his zeal.

"No . . . I want to reach it just as much as you do, but what he's done . . . you can't ask me to just overlook it."

"OF COURSE I CAN!" Though not an actual shout, the words of the first figure were snarled with such emphasis that they might as well have been roared at the top of his lungs. "I know how he has hurt you, but for this you must cast that resentment aside. Rise above it, my friend, keep your eyes focused upon our bright and joyous future and let it serve as balm to your soul!"

"I . . . I see! How? How could I be so foolish as to let my petty spite blind me? It is true that I have been hurt, but with the aid of Emiya I will be able to enjoy so much more."

"Excellent, I'm pleased to see that you have seen sense." The second of them nodded his head emphatically.

"Then we are all agreed?" There was no dissent so the first of them continued. "Then we will approach Emiya-san next week, once we have made preparations, and present our case."

"Failure is not an option." The Second declared his voice flat and determined.

"YES!" the other two declared in eerie unison.

"Very well . . . for the Maid Café Plan!"

"With cat ears!"

"And a Miko Maid!"

"And Illya-chan in a maid outfit while calling me 'onii-chan'!"

"And swimsuits!"

In the darkness of the room the three conspirators(?) proceeded with their plan(?).


-()-


Illya was in her room and staring at herself in the mirror.

This was not something that she did very much. Oh she used the mirror often enough when trying out new outfits or playing with new hairstyles, but it was rare for her to simply stand in front of it and really scrutinize herself.

It was even rarer for her to do while almost completely naked.

However it was not vanity that had the white haired young girl standing in nothing but her panties before the looking glass. It was concern and a touch of hope.

Turning her body Illya kept her eyes facing the mirror as she carefully watched her reflection. Yes, it was definitely there, it hadn't been her imagination.

She had breasts.

Alright, granted they weren't anything to get too excited about, but it was unquestionably clear that she had left the barren lands of the 'no bra' and entered the fertile plains of the A-cup. And this was just the first step on her journey into womanhood, of that the Einzbern heiress was certain. She remembered her mama; she remembered how beautiful she had been, with long white hair and ruby red eyes. But one thing also stood out in Illya's mind, and that was the fact that her mother had been the proud owner of a most generous bosom.

Of course, she had been a homunculus created by the Einzbern family to act as their vessel for the Holy Grail; perhaps such an attribute had been part of their image of physical beauty and perfection. Though what that said about her grandfather was not something she really wanted to think about.

But all that aside, save for a few general areas, homunculi genetics worked more or less as they would with normal humans. Granted in her case the modifications done to her body had stunted her development as well as shortened her lifespan, but the potential had always been there.

She was going to have BOOBS!

Inwardly she was cackling at the thought of being able to laud this over Guinevere. Hah, she might be an immortal child with supernatural beauty, but Onii-chan wasn't a lolicon and Illya was taking her first steps to exit that particular category, steps that Guinevere was incapable of. She could already imagine an older, taller and much more mature version of herself posing provocatively in a string bikini while a shorter, flatter and more juvenile Guinevere dressed in a school issue one piece swimsuit wept anime tears in the background.

She wondered if the fact that the image brought a bright smile to her face made her a bad person. But in the end she did so only briefly.

Dismissing her more frivolous thoughts the white haired magus turned her attention to more serious matters. This definitely confirmed what she'd been sure of for some months now. These now visible changes in her body were the final confirmation that not only had she completely recovered from changes wrought upon her by the Einzbern family, she was also cured of the birth defects that would have stunted her development even if her lifespan hadn't been shortened.

She was going to live now. Actually, it was most likely that she was going to live for a span that would be considered inhuman by those ignorant of the world of magi. Her grandfather was nearly two hundred years old thanks to the modification he'd made to his body using the arts of alchemy to improve parts of himself so that they matched those of special homunculi. Illya herself could be considered to be a special homunculi, or at least so close that it made no difference, but her longevity had been sacrificed to increase the quality and capacity of her magic circuits.

But whatever this world and Shirou's power had done to her had restored her health while at the same time not reducing her abilities as a magus. The immense number of magic circuits that her future had been sacrificed for were all still intact and fully functional. In fact they might have actually improved slightly due to her increased health. No normal magus would ever have been able to create and support something like her puppet Berserker as easily as she could, but for Illya supplying her creation with the prana it needed to function was an almost trivial concern.

So that was where she stood, at this very moment she was probably the single most powerful individual that her family line had ever produced since Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern, the Saint of Winter, herself. In fact, now that she thought about it, there were definitely similarities between them. The Homunculi that had become the core of the Great Grail had essentially been an enormous mass of walking circuits that had surpassed what should have been possible. There was much secrecy about her existence, much that was sealed and only known to the Head of the family. What was known was that she had been a creation of the Einzberns who had been so absurdly powerful and brilliant that she'd been granted the title of Archmage despite her status as a homunculus. She had also been the one to design the Heaven's Feel system and had sacrificed herself to act as the system's core.

Both Illya and her mother had been part of a series of homunculi that had been made using the original Saint of Winter as a blueprint. There had been a number of reasons for doing so; it had made them more suitable vessels for the Holy Grail as well as ensured that their Magic Circuits would be of the highest calibre. She supposed they might have also hoped to recreate the talent of the Saint herself, but in that regard neither she nor her mother had shown anywhere near the same level of talent. Still, that had probably only been a minor concern, the main task that they had been designed for had been to act as a living vessel for the lesser Holy Grail.

But now . . . Illya wondered if it might be hubris talking, but she really did feel she was closer to being something like the original Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern. Certainly she didn't think she was her equal, at least not as far as raw talent and ability went. On the other hand, the Saint of Winter hadn't been a 'combat' type homunculus, just like the Einzbern style of alchemy she hadn't been suited to battle even though she'd had some ability in that area.

However the thought of being her equal in some regard was appealing. Ever since the Battle of the Three Kings, as the Venus incident had come to be called, the young girl had been looking to improve her own abilities in battle so as not to be so helpless again. Justeaze had been the last member of the Einzbern family to be able to use even an imperfect form of the Heaven's Feel True Magic. She still had the Dress of Heaven, and though it couldn't enact any sort of effect without the Holy Grail to back it up it still remained a powerful Mystic Code, it had been essential to the creation of her puppet Berserker after all.

The question was; how best to use it? The possibility of creating more puppets was no longer an option; it felt as though trying to create another puppet Berserker would fail. As for creating other imitation Servants, that wasn't possible due to her being too unfamiliar with how their prana based bodies were made. Her long exposure to Berserker had given her months to subconsciously gain a sense of how his body was assembled from the prana she supplied. She'd had nowhere near the level of contact she'd needed with any of the other Servants, not even Archer, who'd been the only Heroic Spirit to be housed in her when she was acting as a lesser Grail.

Her existing plan was already yielding some results; she'd been able to construct some Mystic Codes that imitated Noble Phantasms, to only a minor degree admittedly, which her puppet could wield. Of course for her next step she'd need Shirou's help, since even with her Wishcraft creating the next weapon she envisioned would not be possible without the aid of the King of Steel.

Shirou . . .

Thinking of her dear adopted brother caused the young girl to press both her hands to her chest as she felt a pang of sadness.

Since the night when he'd gained his new Authority Shirou had been . . . different. He was still as kind to her as ever and he also remained courteous to his servants and allies. Yet underneath it all there was the sense of something lurking just hidden under the surface. Something unhappy and frustrated that festered inside her adopted brother like a malignant tumour.

That was part of the reason that she and Yusuke had spent the last couple of days coming up with their current plan. The school holidays were coming up soon, and summer hadn't yet past into autumn, Japanese summers were quite long it seemed. If the plan went well then they'd be able to do something for the troubled Campione.

Glancing at her bed Illya smiled again as she looked at the swimsuit laid out on it. Perhaps it wasn't the sexy bikini she hoped to wear one day, but for now the white, blue and lavender one piece would do quite well in terms of cuteness.


-()-


Shirou just bit back a snarl as he brought the sword in his left hand around in a savage sweep that smashed his enemy's oncoming blade aside. Even as he did so the curved dagger in his right hand jabbed sharply upwards, forcing its tip through the cracks between his foe's armour and into his heart from below.

His foe was strong and determined though; even as the blade sank into him he thrust his head forwards in an attempt to deliver a final blow before death claimed him. Shirou didn't even flinch though; instead he took the blow full force to his forehead as he drove the dagger in deeper. Blood trickled down from the shallow gash that the punishing headbutt had opened up, but he paid it no heed at all.

His enemy gave one last shudder and then disappeared back into motes of light which in turn faded. Behind him two more such groups of motes were leaving existence, the enemies he'd dispatched moments before confronting the final foe.

"Most impressive Emiya-sama," the voice that spoke was calm and cultured, that of a man that had seen much and learnt from it. "However your problem persists despite your advancement."

Letting the Traced weapons in his hands fade away the red haired Emiya turned to see who had spoken to him.

The speaker was an old man, someone at least in his late seventies, but rather than being weighed down by his years he wore them like the finest silks imaginable. His long white hair and beard were artfully combed and prepared and his frame seemed to hold vitality despite his many years. He was clad in elaborate Chinese clothes that were of a design prevalent during the reign of the Ming Dynasty. He sat calmly as he observed the battle that had taken place before him.

His name was Yu Zuhang, and he was one of the latest additions to the souls that the King of Steel was able to call upon. His summoning reagent, a single preserved finger bone, had been sent to Shirou as a gift from Luo Hao along with a message that she hoped the gift would serve him well. Upon using his Ruler of the Underworld Authority the adopted Emiya had found that the man he could summon using the gift was one of the most accomplished martial artists in history.

Yu Zuhang had been born during the second century of the Ming Dynasty to a prosperous but minor noble family. Having a talent for the fighting arts of his time he had studied Wushu with a passion until he had become one of the great names of his time. Driven by an insatiable thirst for newer and harsher challenges he had first studied with the Mongol tribes and then travelled to the islands of Japan in order to study their Koryu, or old style, martial arts.

Doing so had earned him a reputation as an eccentric and a heretic amongst the various kung fu societies of the time, but that had mattered little to him. He had lived a long life, sired several children and even had the privilege of serving as a teacher in the imperial court. But despite these achievements several years after his death most of the records of his deeds had been struck off. Perhaps some rivals to his family had sought to remove him from history, or perhaps it had simply been some bureaucratic error, whatever the case the name of Yu Zuhang was mostly lost to the ages.

But not entirely, in the vaults of the various organizations of the Martial Realm records of his deeds had still remained, buried amongst others and mislaid to time. However after her adventures in Japan Luo Cuilian had roused her servants upon her return and ordered them to track down as many of the ancient martial arts masters as they could from their musty and somewhat neglected records.

As it had turned out the old master's tomb had been one of those that had been plundered during times of unrest, no doubt by those seeking jewellery or martial knowledge. Seeking to preserve his dignity one of the associations that made up the Martial Realm had exhumed his bones and taken them to a small but hidden temple where the bones of venerated masters were kept.

At Lou Hao's insistence the bone from his right index finger had been removed and sent with all due care to her fellow King as a gift. The Chinese Campione had sent a message along with the bone stating that it was unseemly for an ally of hers to be without a gift from her, and that she hoped the long dead master might provide Shirou with education in the fighting arts.

She also stated that she'd be sending her sworn brother a gift as well, though she neglected to mention what it was.

On a totally unrelated note Godou had been sporting a slightly . . . harried look at school for the last few days.

Shirou had been reaching something of a plateau in his training, so the thought of gaining an experienced martial arts master as a teacher had been interesting; his only worries had been that this Yu Zuhang would be a specialist in unarmed combat rather than a weapons user and that he might not be amenable to serving.

As it turned out though neither of these concerns had been an issue. The Chinese martial master had no problem with serving under another King and his knowledge of the arts of battle was varied enough to remain applicable to his new sovereign despite his odd abilities. Over the last few days he had been observing how his new King fought, both with and without the use of his Authorities. Having been a master in the use of internal energy to enhance his own abilities Yu Zuhang was well able to grasp the implications of many of the powers and strengths Shirou possessed. Granted, they were far beyond anything the old master had ever been able to achieve himself, but they were not beyond his ability to understand and account for.

That was the point behind today's battle. The warriors that Shirou had fought had been three specifically chosen fighters that had been equipped with armour from Steel for the Legion. For his part the eighth Campione was fighting without the use of Authorities or Noble Phantasms, he was using Reinforcement to increase his abilities, but other than that he was fighting unaided.

Yet even so he had been able to tear through his enemies with relative ease, despite the advantage that being garbed in one of his Authorities had given them.

"And what problem is that Yu Zuhang-sensei?" he asked as his breathing slowed as he got his wind back.

"Your skills are keen and you are integrating the experience that you gained from your other self into your style; however your every action is still tinged by the same anger and recklessness that I have warned you of since our lessons began."

In a single graceful motion the white haired kung fu master was on his feet and gliding over towards the young King, his feet obscured by his robes and his movements impossibly smooth.

"Your spirit is clouded, my King, directionless anger has coloured your mind and now robs you of your keenness." Leaning forward Yu Zuhang gently tapped Shirou's forehead. "Emotions have their place in battle, but they must be carefully controlled lest they overtake us and carry us away rather than serving as mounts and fuel. Do not suppress them, they shall inevitably break loose and swamp you, feel them and control them, that is the key."

For his part Shirou found his gaze falling to the floor as he listened to his instructor's words. The resurrected soul wasn't telling him anything he disagreed with, during his last few training sessions he'd found himself using tactics tinged with more brutality and violence than he normally would have.

The problem was that he didn't know what it was that was making him angry. The anger and irritation were just always there, like the dull throb of an aching tooth that had yet to turn serious. It wasn't unmanageable; he'd been able to keep from snapping at his guests and family so far, despite the irritation that plagued him. In combat though things went somewhat less cordially.

Reaching up he touched the already healing cut on his forehead. That had been an unnecessary move, he could have done any one of a half dozen other things, any of which would have been just as effective. But instead, in the heat of battle and with his blood racing, he'd gone for the single most brutal and vicious move he could. What was even more worrying was that the headbutt had been damaging to not only his enemy but also to himself. The style that he'd inherited from Archer had been one that incorporated the occasional sacrificial move, taking a hit in order to secure a return blow, but what he'd done had been unnecessary, wasteful even.

Damn it, why was he acting like this? Anger was . . . not really an emotion he had much experience with, outrage he had a bit more familiarity with as well as disgust, but actual simmering anger that wouldn't fade away, that was something altogether new.

And he still wasn't sure how to handle it.

No, more than that he didn't even know why he felt like this in the first place. It was as though-

-Warm arms wrapped about him as hot lips traced the line of his jaw. His own hands on her hips, aiding her as she-

-there was something missing, something that he couldn't put his finger on. The fact that he couldn't identify the source of his ill temper only served as further fuel for that very emotion, an irony that was not lost on him.

Yu Zuhang must have read his mood in his posture and body language because he laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I know that what I'm asking is not an easy thing to accomplish, yet such is the case with most worthwhile things in life."

Moving over to a mat the reincarnated soul seated himself cross legged and gestured for Shirou to sit across from him before clasping his hands in his lap. As the eighth Campione adopted a matching position his instructor nodded his head and closed his eyes.

"Very well, let us begin. Take deep breaths through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Pay close attention to . . ."

As he closed his own eyes Shirou focused on the words of Yu Zuhang and let them guide him. In a way the meditation techniques that the Chinese martial arts master was teaching him were helping, but the sad fact was that the young red head had little aptitude for such things as Qi harmonization and the calming of internal energy flows. He had some experience with meditation, but the exercises he'd done for years, the jury rigging of his nerves into makeshift Magic Circuits, was an exercise of focus and intensity, pretty much the opposite of calming himself.

Pushing such thoughts to the side the Emiya heir focussed on his breathing and the words of his teacher.


-()-


The ill-advised scheme had started when Nanami had seen something while looking out of a window one ordinary school lunchtime. By chance the window had been facing one of the side gates that led into the school grounds and he had seen a limo pull up by the entrance.

By itself that would have hardly been enough to capture his attention; however when a beautiful girl with long black hair and an almost visible aura of calmness about her stepped out of the car then his attention was drawn like a magnet.

The fact that she was dressed in a long skirted maid's uniform, complete with apron, essentially nailed his eyes in place.

A maid, a real one, was right there at his school. And just to top it off she was practically a Yamato Nadeshiko of the highest quality. A maid and a traditional beauty, the somewhat unhinged boy had wanted to drop to his knees and raise his voice in thanks to the heavens for letting him see this.

That was when he'd seen the figure going to meet the maid.

It had been at a fair distance and he could only see the person from behind, but the figure's height and red hair had been distinctive enough that Nanami hadn't had any trouble recognizing Emiya Shirou. The new student was in the upper year from him, but even so there had been enough gossip when he'd arrived that he was known to just about everyone. The maid went to meet him, passed him some kind of package, a bento perhaps, bowed to him and had then turned and re-entered the limo which had then driven off. Emiya had strolled back into the school, but Nanami hadn't paid any attention to that. Instead his mind had been focussed on one single fact.

He had a maid.

That bastard had a gorgeous maid. No, he probably had more than one if that limo was his. That was it! Emiya Shirou was a rich bastard that was probably served by half a dozen maids any time he wished. The infuriated student's mind conjured up images of the older student sitting on an elaborate throne, an unutterably smug look on his face as he was served by a bevy of gorgeous maids. There'd be one to fan him in hot weather, one to serve him delicious snacks, one to massage his shoulders, one to present a cool drink, one to . . .

It had gone on like this for quite some time, until the bell signalling the return to classes had rung and brought him out of his fantasies to find the front of his shirt was soaked in his own drool. But even as he had returned to his classroom his mind had been going over what he had seen.

Surely this had been a sign sent by the heavens themselves. For the last three years it had been his dearest dream to run a true maid café at the school fair. The problem had always been that he had never been able to persuade the other members of his classroom as to the magnificence of his vision. Oh Takagi and Sorimachi had proclaimed their own loyalty to his vision, but none of the others had been able to understand the beauty of what he had been proposing. But with the aid of Emiya that far off utopia may yet be realized.

The question though, was how to approach the elder student to gain his co-operation. Had Godou not abandoned their fellowship of the girlless then this would have been precisely when his powers of friendly persuasion would have been most useful. Unfortunately the Kusanagi heir had betrayed them and begun to build his own harem, the bastard. How could he desert them like that? How could he succeed in ensnaring not only the heart of the school's yamato nadeshiko but also the two beautiful foreign transfer student? Had he no shame? Had he no heart? WHY WOULDN'T HE SHARE?!

No, he mustn't allow his righteous anger to distract him from the matter at hand. Emiya Shirou must be brought around to the light; the only question was how to go about it. How could he be convinced to not only contribute his own maids to the café but also to convince his sister to participate?

Perhaps he should consult with the others, get their opinion and bounce some ideas about. Yes, that seemed like a good idea, after all with their combined intellects then surely they could come up with an argument that Emiya would be unable to disagree with.

The path to the ultimate maid café would soon open, he was sure of it. In the face of the overwhelming power of their combined determination nothing could withstand them. The power of their pure and true love would lead them to their promised land.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?


-()-


The current head of the Seishuuin family looked down at the document in her hands and just knew that she was going to have a headache by the time she finished reading it. This wasn't a suspicion or a guess; this was a rock solid certainty. All she had to do was read the title page to know this to be true.

'AN ANALYSIS OF THE CURRENT SITUATION REGARDING EMIYA SHIROU.'

(-)

Flashback to the meeting of the Four Families after the Battle of the Three Kings.

"He did what?"

The question was asked in a tone so flat that it might as well have been dead, but given what she'd just heard the matriarch felt that the tone was appropriate. She knew full well what the now infamous King of Steel had done; her question was merely an expression of incredulity at the seemingly impossible facts.

Not only had he bested two other Kings whilst under the control of Venus, he had also revealed a mortal magic that was on par with a Divine Authority, had overcome the control and gained a new Authority of his own and then apparently lent one of his Authorities to a Heretic God so he could defeat another goddess. Those she could understand, even if they boggled the mind. No, it was what he had done afterwards that she simply couldn't quite wrap her head around.

"It would seem . . . that the Queen of the Divine Ancestors, Guinevere, and the fallen goddess Tiamat are now residing as guests at the house of Emiya-sama."

Silence descended upon the small chamber as the occupants mulled over the implications of what they had just heard. For her part the head of the Seishuuin house was mentally banging her head against a wall. A few weeks ago she had decided that nothing the eighth Campione did could possibly top the infamous Feast of Kings. Now, it would seem that the universe had decided to prove her wrong out of sheer spite.

"Why . . . Why would a God Slayer offer hospitality to a fallen goddess?" the head of the Sayanomiya family asked, voicing the question that was plaguing them all.

"For that matter why would he do the same for a Divine Ancestor, one who is the queen of them no less?" said the representative of the Kuhoutsuka clan.

All eyes turned to Gendo, who was once more the agent that had been chosen to present the data that had been gathered on the latest incident. In response the operative could only offer a shrug of his shoulders.

"I'm sorry to say that given how short a time it's been since the incident we have only a few eye witness accounts to go by and some messages sent by Mariya Yuri and Seishuuin Ena. As far as we've been able to determine Emiya-sama felt some sort of obligation to the fallen goddess, though the details are still unclear to us. As for the Divine Ancestor; we know that she has had dealing with this majesty in the past, such as when she was a guest to the Feast of Kings. Apparently she took some sort of offence at Tiamat being his guest while she wasn't, so Emiya-sama invited her to stay with him as well."

"And he's just let them stay at his home? His natural enemies?" That question came from the assistant of the Sayanomiya family's head, his incredulity causing him to speak out of turn. Still, he'd said what everyone was thinking, so save for a couple of disapproving glares his speaking was allowed.

"There, at least, I have some more concrete information," Gendo replied as he tapped at some notes on the table before him. "Both Mariya Yuri and Seishuuin Ena have confirmed that Emiya-sama had both his new house guests swear oaths upon an altar of some type that they would abide by some rules so long as they remained his guests. I did some research and was able to find that the altar that his majesty used was an old European artefact known as the Stone of Oaths. Apparently it held some reputation until it was acquired by the Circle of the Chosen some decades ago. The last leader of the group must have brought it over when they attempted to kidnap Einzbern Von Illyasviel, and we all know how well that turned out."

A number of barely visible winces were made by the various members of the small group. That particular incident had ensured that absolutely nobody even considered using the girl as some sort of weak point against the eighth Campione. Pictures of what had been left of the cult leader who'd ordered that operation had been 'accidentally' leaked so that pretty much everyone was aware of what had happened. That the small white haired girl had then gone on to essentially enslave the rest of the order had merely served to hammer the point in further.

It had been that Stone of Oaths that had allowed her to do so, apparently the cult had planned to use it on Emiya Shirou, but never had the chance after Illyasviel had claimed it as spoils of war.

"But how tightly bound are they? Was the oath that Emiya-sama demanded of them constrictive?"

"In truth Emiya-sama has been quite light upon the restrictions placed upon them. They have sworn to act as honourable guests whilst staying in his household and have sworn to make no move against him or his people and will lend aid in the defence of his home and allies. Aside from that they are largely unrestrained, though I doubt that his majesty would sit idly if they were to go on a rampage, even if they took care not to harm any that could be called his allies."

"Well . . . we are his allies . . . aren't we?"

The somewhat hesitant question brought the main issue of this meeting out into the open. Though the King of Steel had cooperated with the History Compilation Committee in the past their relationship was as yet undefined. Certainly Kaida and Manaka served as liaisons of a sort and were permitted to pass along what they had learnt about him and his sister, but even so there was no defined link or agreement between them and the eighth Campione. There was also the lucrative deal that the young Emiya had made with them for both gold and knowledge, yet in the end that was just a transaction, nothing more.

The simple fact was that at this point they had a clearer understanding of where they stood in regards to the seventh Devil King, regardless of how murky that relationship was.

"Should we discuss this now, it is a matter that would require a complete council meeting."

"Perhaps, but there's no reason that we should not at the very least evaluate our options before calling that meeting, is there?"

The suggestion of the representative of the Kuhoutsuka family brought slow nods from the others sat about the small table.

"Well," the Seishuuin head said, taking the lead in the discussion, "I take it that none of us disagree that we will need to offer our allegiance to one of the God Slayers in the near future?"

None voiced any disagreement. The simple fact was that the instant that a Campione set foot upon Japan they became the dominant force in the country by virtue of their very existence. The Committee might well have access to vast resources and great manpower, but in the end that didn't change the fact that they were as helpless in the face of the Devil Kings as a leaf was before the hurricane. Their only real option was to offer their loyalty and service to such a being and hope that they could at least in part steer their course towards the path of least destruction.

However now they had not one King but two living in the same city. And that meant that the Committee had the quite possibly unique privilege of being able to choose which King they would swear their loyalty to.

And it was this fact that had led to a minor but important schism in the ranks of the organization.

"Emiya-sama is clearly the stronger of the two," the Sayanomiya representative offered hesitantly, "The recent crisis has clearly shown that he can face two other Kings and seize victory despite the odds."

"True, but don't forget that Kusanagi-sama and her Eminence were not fighting to kill him but rather to restrain or subdue."

"Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that even together the other two Kings were unable to bring him down."

"I still don't think that-"

"With all his resources surely Emiya-sama is the-"

"Kusanagi-sama defeated the Great Sage and has shown-"

The elderly matriarch watched with growing irritation as the debate descended into what could be described as little more than a squabble. Clearly trying to lay some groundwork for a united decision had backfired quite spectacularly. She'd thought that with only a small number of the highest ranked clan leaders here there might be a chance for a civilized discussion. Unfortunately the division in opinion regarding the two Kings was just the same in the higher ranks as the lower ones, split right down the middle with half supporting swearing to one King and half moving for swearing to the other.

Rapping her knuckles on the wooden table the head of the Seishuuin brought everyone's attention back to her. All truth be told she had no more authority here than any of the others present, however her long years of service as well as her reputation ensured that if not deference then at least she was afforded respect. Consequently it was an easy matter for her to bring the argument to an end despite no resolution having been found.

"Perhaps we should return to the original purpose of this meeting," she said, her voice that of an aged school teacher speaking to her class. "The simple fact of the matter is that Japan is now host to the single greatest concentration of supernatural power in the world. We have two Devil Kings, two fallen goddesses, the queen of the Divine Ancestors and a sorcerous prodigy whose power is comparable to a Divine Ancestor. Not to mention the various knights, mages and Hime-Miko that have chosen to serve the Campione. They are all here and they are all living in the same city."

She paused for a moment, letting the import of her words sink in.

"We are living next to a bomb . . . no, not a bomb, a nuclear reactor. There is both danger and opportunity here the like of which have not been seen in recorded history. Yes, there is a good chance that the situation will detonate in an explosion of chaos that could wipe us all out, but I think that outcome is unlikely.

"Both the Kings that live here have demonstrated their lack of any wish to rule as tyrants and have shown themselves to be more reasonable and moral than many of their elder counterparts. That allows us to, at the very least, have some time to evaluate and consider the facts."

Their focus regained, the meeting settled down to pursue its original purpose.

End Flashback.

(-)

It had been a couple of weeks since then and the question as to which King the Committee should swear to was still no closer to being decided.

In her own opinion the elderly matriarch felt that Kusanagi Godou was the marginally better choice. He seemed to be slightly more predictable than Emiya-sama and he was more interested in living a normal life than accumulating more power. He also had a fairly close relationship with her granddaughter and one of the principle Hime-Miko of their organization.

The King of Steel might be more powerful, but there was simply too much about him that was unknown. His past, his teachings, his motivations, all of these were frustratingly illusive despite the information he'd shared with Kaida and Manaka. He seemed like a good person, but his tendency towards the wild and unexpected as well as the unknowns surrounding him made him the less . . . understandable option, at least as far as she was concerned.

Sighing she turned the cover and began to read.

Almost immediately a frown creased her forehead. It would seem that King Emiya was increasing his demand for the bones and reagents of dead mages, so far his requests were neither forceful nor unreasonable, but the one that had written the report commented that there was a definite sense of urgency to the new requests.

The next page was also odd, just shy of worrying in fact. It would seem that Yamada Yusuke, the undead soul that managed all the King of Steel's financial assets, had begun to make larger and larger moves in regards to the assets that he managed for his King. Much larger. This was unusual because in the past the resurrected soul had always kept his activities below a certain threshold, according to information passed on from Kaida this was due to Emiya Shirou wanting to avoid too much notoriety.

Now the businesses owned by the former Circle of the Chosen were making big moves, buying up lesser businesses and swelling in size as they moved from small companies to the beginnings of being major corporations.

Also local properties, she noted as she turned to the next page. Though minor by comparison Yamada-san had also purchased several locations about Tokyo itself. Most were small, such as detached houses and small apartment buildings. The only exception was the acquisition of a small warehouse area near the docks that had been abandoned for several years.

There was no completely clear picture, but there was enough information for the head of the Seishuuin family to make a guess. Emiya-sama was building his power base.

Being able to raise mages to add to his forces would make for far more dangerous servants than the warriors he'd been using up to now alone. If both the mages and the warriors were equipped with the magic weapons that the King of Steel was able to create with almost casual ease then their potency would be increased by an enormous factor.

He was also building up his financial base, allowing Yamada-san free reign to use the resources at his disposal to build the wealth and power he already had in such circles. The matter of the seemingly random selection of purchased properties was somewhat baffling, but she was sure that tied into some sort of overall plan.

The question was; why would an already near almighty God Slayer seek to amass further power? Actually that was a rather foolish question. Though rare there had been many Devil Kings in the past and almost all of them had died due to facing off against a Heretic God or another Campione. When looked at from that perspective trying to gain any sort of useful edge made sense, but what worried her was that he was doing it now, so soon after his being controlled by a Heretic Goddess.

To her way of thinking this hinted at some sort of . . . rebound in response to that, an instinctive scramble for power in order to make himself feel more secure. It was easy to forget that though he was a Campione that wielded the power of gods and ruled over all he saw Emiya-sama was also a rather young man still in his mid teenage years. Such a reaction was only to be expected given what he had gone through. Indeed, she should be grateful that it was so restrained as opposed to irrational lashing out at the world.

On the other hand, she was talking about a God Slayer here, had he been average or normal then he would never have become such in the first place.

The rest of the report wasn't so much concrete information as it was supposition and guesswork. Many things were suggested as possibilities, but little was very solid, most of what was certain having been covered in the first part of the report.

Too many unknowns, she'd have to contact Kaida and Manaka to see if they could shed any light on these mysteries. They weren't spies and weren't asked to act as such, but if she contacted them they would answer her questions so long as it didn't violate their honour and the promise they'd made to the King they served.

As she closed the folder the elderly mage felt a slight twinge of pain just behind her forehead.

Ah yes, there was the headache she was expecting.


-()-


"This will be the final payment, correct? After this t will all be paid for and you will be ready to have it fully loaded and ready for use by this time next week?"

As he heard the confident assurances being given by the man on the other end of the line Yusuke allowed himself a slight nod of satisfaction. This was one of the largest purchases that he'd made in Shirou-sama's name, even more so than the warehouses that he'd purchased, but hopefully it would be worth it.

The last few days had been . . . interesting, to say the least. Just a few days before he'd made plans for his own passing so that the small business empire he'd created would continue without him, then this turned 180 degrees and that empire was now exploding outwards in a seething rush of expansion.

Glancing down at his desk he stared at the truly impressive pile of documents waiting for his attention in his in-tray. That was something he could have done without, but it was one of the prices for operating at this level. Paper, paper and more paper. Granted, he could have reduced the amount considerably if he didn't insist on print outs for all sorts of things rather than just leaving them as electronic mail, but he was an old fashioned guy and he found an email account far too easy to mess up.

Still, this was the kind of stuff he lived for, the kind of thing he was good at, and, despite all the paper, he was having fun.

His thoughts were interrupted by knock on the door followed by it opening and letting in the politely smiling form of Ersilia Delfavero carrying another sheaf of papers and a cup of coffee. The one he could have done without since it was just another print-out that would have to be filed, but the hot caffeinated liquid called to him as beguilingly as any siren from Greek myth.

Idly he smiled at the advertising potential there, a coffee so strong it could even lend energy to the dead.

As she put the papers down on his desk and passed him the steaming cup Yusuke noticed that a frown was marring the brow of the young former Circle member. Following her line of sight he saw that the focus of her attention was an old tablet that had been sitting on one of his worktops, propped up so it was leaning against the wall. Recently the resurrected soul had been using it as a decoration and had been meaning to mention it to his King as soon as was convenient. However with the dower mood that the King of Steel had been in lately there really hadn't been any opportune moments to mention it.

As such the tablet had remained in place, acting as a decoration and gathering dust, though lately it had been half buried amidst discarded files, a pile of invoices too trivial to warrant attention yet not so trivial as to be disposed of, and a tottering stack of books. With all the mess that the tablet had to share its worktop with it was a wonder that any of it was still visible. Yet despite it being mostly buried in the accounting debris the top left quarter of it poked out to show the head and shoulder of the unknown god that featured in it.

And it was that visage that the pretty young mage was staring at as her frown grew even deeper. The expression grew so marked upon her that Yusuke found himself unable to keep his curiosity in check.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No . . . it's just . . . have you changed the tablet that you kept here before?"

"No, that's the same one that's been back there since before the Battle of the Three Kings."

Upon hearing his answer her eyes narrowed slightly as she almost glared at the simple carved stone.

"What is it? You look as though that fellow on the tablet has personally offended you."

The comment was intended as a joke, a simple jest to lighten the mood of the room. But rather than being amused by the suggestion Ersilia simply shook her head as her eyes remained fixed on the carved figure.

"No . . . it's not that. It's just . . . I could have sworn that the last time I looked at that tablet the carving wasn't leaning to the side like that."

Her words were hesitant, almost shy about what she was saying, as though afraid that she'd be laughed at for such a ridiculous suggestion.

In his defence Yusuke did give her words some thought. In the past there had been such things as carvings, statues, paintings and even photos that had moved on their own due to influences ranging from spiritual possession to stray magic. To grant life, or a semblance of life, to the inanimate was one of the basic functions of magic.

But according to those that had evaluated the tablet there was no hint of magic within it. The mages that had looked at it had assured him that there was no power in it. On the other hand there was its uncanny state of unagedness. The Tablet was more than two and a half millennia old, yet despite that the lines of its carving were still clear and sharp and the characters carved into it were vivid and unfaded. If it had no magic to it then how had it stayed unchanged for so many centuries?

Perhaps he should . . .

. . .

What had he been thinking about?

"I . . ."

Ersilia was looking at him with a vaguely puzzled look on her face, as though she had forgotten something important right before she was going to talk about it.

"I . . . thank you . . . uh, for the coffee I mean?"

The last words of the sentence were so uncertain that they became a question rather than an actual declaration of thanks.

"Um . . . that's fine. I'm happy to help."

By the sounds of it the former Circle member was every bit as unsure as he was.

"Well . . . thank you. Can you see if the new deeds of property have been delivered yet? I was told that they'd be arriving by messenger before lunch."

"Um, yes . . . yes. Yes, yes I can. I'll see to it right now."

With a shake of her head as though to clear it Ersilia's features lost her earlier confusion and regained the looks of someone that knew what they were doing. As she made her way out of the door Yusuke sat back at his desk, took a deep drink from the mug of coffee and set back down to his work.

Unseen the eyes of the figure on the tablet ceased to glow with a soft blue light as the power within returned to its resting state.

The power within it was incomplete. It possessed a certain awareness and intelligence but lacked true sentience of any sort. It was able to take the steps it needed to protect and conceal itself, to ensure that it wasn't interfered with and was left alone, but that was the limit of its ability to act.

So it waited, waited until it could be reunited with its greater part. That time was coming soon; it had sensed its true owner's power in the last few weeks. Merely hints and touches, but enough to rouse the power held within the tablet to a state of activity. Incomplete as it was the power within the tablet was, to put not to fine a point on it, not very bright. It 'knew' that its purpose was to reunite with its larger part, but it lacked the mental aspects needed to conceive a means of doing so. For the last few weeks it had been emitting a low broadcast of its power on a spiritual 'wavelength' that only its larger part could perceive. Unfortunately that had been all that it could come up with, and so far that hadn't worked.

But it persisted, with the mindless relentlessness of something incapable of becoming bored it continued to send the signal and ensure that none were aware of it.

Returning to its original place upon the slab the figure returned to its sleep.


-()-


The gathering was not a large one.

Given the somewhat clandestine nature of the meeting and the reasons behind it they could not afford for it to be too large. They met in a warehouse, one that was currently empty as the stock that had once been in it had been shipped off only a few days before. It would soon be filled once more, but for now it was almost cavernous in its emptiness and would serve for the purposes of this small meeting.

"Thank you all for coming, I know this isn't the normal way of doing thing, but we all needed to talk without the risk of being overheard."

The one to speak was Hayate Homura. He was currently standing on an abandoned delivery pallet and so was a few inches above the rest of the group. At his words the other nine members of the gathering turned to look at him.

"So what was it that you wanted to talk about Homura? And why'd you have to drag us out here at this hour to say it?"

The irritated questions were from a tall but blocky man in his middle years. With his wild black hair shot through with steaks of white and his dark brown eyes Kubo Makoto was a fairly intimidating sight. He also carried himself with confidence, a confidence drawn from the many years he'd spent in charge of one of the better squads of the History Compilation Committee's field operatives.

That authority now could be felt in his words and movements as he approached the one that had called the meeting. Homura had once been a subordinate of his, so he should remember the rigid discipline that the larger man had kept in his subordinates. Certainly the Hayate heir had gone on to become a solo agent, a scout that worked on his own, but even so he should remember the time he had spent as Makoto's subordinate.

However much to everyone's surprise the younger man showed no signs of deference to his former superior, instead he simply stared back with a kind of absolute self assurance that actually drew the squad commander up short.

"This is a matter of the utmost urgency Kubo-san. I know that the circumstances aren't the best, but this is something that needs to be said and I didn't want to risk the wrong people hearing it."

There it was again. Homura had never been the most confident of people; though he had been talented at his calling and had served as one of the best field agents that the Committee had he'd never been the best at dealing with others. Now though it was as though that new certainty he'd gained was propping him up from within, granting him . . . not confidence, but something very similar.

"As you all know the heads of the Four Families are trying to decide which of the two Kings of Japan they should swear their loyalty to. There have been arguments made in the favour of both of them, but as of yet there has been no indication as to which is more likely."

Taking a deep breath he stared about him, taking the time to look at each of those he had asked to be here in the eyes.

"I think that you all know just how important a decision this is. If the Committee chooses to side with the right King then we may well prosper as never before, but should we choose the wrong one we may well find ourselves doomed further down the line."

Nobody contradicted his words; indeed several of the quieter ones nodded their heads in agreement.

"I called you all here because I say that it is too important to leave this choice to mere chance. The heads of the Houses and the other members of the ruling council must be informed of the correct choice; they must choose the correct King!"

"And I suppose that you know which the correct King is?" Makoto's voice wasn't condescending or mocking, rather it was honestly curious.

"Emiya Shirou." The field agent answered simply.

"The King of Steel?" the exclamation came from Ikeda Yukari, another field agent that Homura had worked with in the past, "I have no doubt that he has the strength of a great King, but his falling under the sway of Venus does concern me somewhat."

"Venus tried to tame Emiya-sama. She tried and failed and paid for it with her life, now her power belongs to him and her attempt has only left him more powerful."

There was no mistaking the anger in his voice. He had known that this was a point that others would bring up, but he honestly couldn't see why they felt it important. Yes the Heretic Goddess had managed to place the King of Steel under her influence, but that was of only minor importance compared to the fact that he had broken free and slain her. That should prove that he was beyond the control of others.

"Why should we choose Emiya-sama over Kusanagi-sama?" Another asked, giving the field agent the opening he needed to present his case.

"Though Kusanagi-sama has proven himself to be a mighty King he has also made it clear that he is less than interested in taking up the role that the station demands of him. He wishes to continue his life as a student without the world of magic and gods interfering. He will remain our ally, Mariya Yuri has confirmed this, but he has not the ambition or drive to be a ruling King.

"Emiya-sama is different; he has already brokered a number of deals with us, deals that have been to our advantage. Not only that, he has also proven that he is more interested in taking an active role in the world than his fellow Devil King. His Authorities afford him great wealth, limitless even, as well as the service and council of those that have passed into the arms of death. He has also gained a vast network of resources due to the efforts of his servants and even boasts the allegiance of a fallen goddess and the queen of the Divine Ancestors. No matter how you look at it what he possesses can vastly more benefit the Committee than the powers of Kusanagi-sama since all his powers can only be applied upon the battlefield."

He was getting through to them, he could feel it. Most of them had only peripheral knowledge of the two Kings that lived in this city, but Homura had taken pains to dig up as much information as he could on both of them.

"But King Kusanagi defeated the Great Sage Equal to Heaven."

"Yes, and King Shirou slew Mordred, the knight of Treachery. He also faced both King Kusanagi and her Eminence Luo Hao in battle and was the one to emerge victorious!"

Silence descended upon the group, the vehemence of the field agent's last words having acted as a sort of road block to any further discussion. In the end it was Yukari who broke the silence.

"Homura, you seem to be . . . solidly behind the idea of the Committee pledging itself to Emiya-sama. Why is that?"

He paused for a moment, lining the up the message that he wanted in his head and trying to find the words to convey it.

"When he broke his way out of the mountain that the Monkey King trapped him in, I was there. It was after the Great Sage had released his power, all of my squad had been transformed into apes to serve him and I'd been all alone. Do you know the kind of despair that you feel when you try to pit yourself against the power of a god? I was able to defend myself, to remain human, but it wasn't because I was powerful or skilled. It was simply that I was utterly beneath his notice. I was lucky enough to be able to raise a defence to the winds of transformation, but had he so much as noticed me that defence would have cracked like the shell of an egg."

His words carried weight upon them, weight that demanded acknowledgement. Japan had been fortunate in that it had not been overly troubled by Heretic Gods in recent history. With the sealed Sun Wukong serving as a means to drive off Dragons and lesser deities of similar nature greater gods had not been drawn to the isles of the Rising Sun. Most of those that came to the Far East were dealt with while in China by the Ruler of the Martial Realm. Though Japan was regarded as the last land of this part of the continent, and in a way the furthest of the Far East, it had avoided any major conflicts and so the agents of the History Compilation Committee were unfamiliar with the helplessness that came with facing a god or a Campione.

Though simple in sound there was none the less a gravity to the scene he wove that conveyed the helplessness and despair that he'd felt to them.

"I ran, there was nothing else I could do, not in the face of something like that. I ran and I hid. I knew that there would be others that had escaped transformation, those like Touma-san and Kaoru-sama who were powerful or skilled enough to have warded the wind off, after all if I could manage it then surely they could. But at the same time I just knew that even if they had then there was nothing they could do, even they were just insects before the hurricane.

"In the end I decided that there was only one thing I could do; run, hide and wait for one of the Campione to deal with the situation. There was nothing else, do you understand? Years of training and study and in the end it was utterly meaningless before the power of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. I could have studied and trained for a thousand years and it wouldn't have made a difference, and all of this I could feel just from having been touched by the least of the Monkey King's power."

They were all listening now; there was no inattention anywhere among them. They hung on his every description and recollection, like children caught up in the plot of a story. Even old Makoto was focused upon him, his head was tilted and his eyes were measuring, but he was listening, he was taking it in.

"That was when I saw it, when I was hiding on the mountainside and hoping that none of the transformed apes would find me. That was when I felt the earth tremble and shake and eventually split open and spew forth fire and lava. I watched King Emiya emerge from the flames, I watched him burst forth from molten rock upon his divine steed and I saw his power."

Had he convinced them? He wasn't sure, certainly they were listening to him now, but as to whether or not he'd managed to bring them round to his point of view . . . that was another matter.

"King Kusanagi is a fine young King, I would never deny this. He has defended Mariya Yuri from the predations of the first Campione, driven off Athena when she sought to plunge this land into darkness, tamed the Ame no Murakumo no Tsurugi and defeated the Monkey King in combat. His achievements speak for themselves, yet for all that it does not change the simple facts; King Kusanagi does not wield Authorities suitable for anything other than battle and most importantly of all he doesn't wish to rule."

"And you're saying that Emiya-sama does? From what I've heard he'd more interested in securing his own position and keeping his sister safe."

The question was irritating but pertinent.

"King Emiya is not power hungry, but he does understand the value of power. Just look at what he has done, if you do there can be no other reason for the actions he has taken. Whatever his goals may be an organization as old and large as the Committee would surely be a valuable aid. In the past his Highness has always treated his subordinates well, the souls he has brought back have been well rewarded for their services despite the fact that he could compel their obedience without needing to thank them. Both Kaida and Manaka have been generously paid for the work they have done and have enjoyed his protection when needed. Even the fallen goddess and the Divine Ancestor who have submitted to him have gained shelter and protection.

"On the other hand, what can Kusanagi-sama offer by comparison? There is his strength to lend us protection, but we would gain the same from King Emiya and quite honestly Kusanagi-sama would probably protect us anyway even if we weren't sworn to him. However if we pledge ourselves to Emiya-sama . . ."

The sentence was left unfinished, the unspoken words hanging in the air like an invitation for one's imagination to fill in the emptiness.

"But there's more, isn't there?" Makoto spoke up as he stepped forwards once more. "There's something else that's driving you, not just what you think is best for the Committee, there's something more personal."

For a moment all Homura could do was blink in surprise. Damn, he really had underestimated his old squad leader. The only reason that the older agent had never risen higher in the ranks of the History Compilation Committee had been his lack of any real ambition rather than any lack of skill. The squad leader was perfectly suited and happy with where he was, so even though he could have attained a higher rank he stayed where he had been. When looked at from that perspective it was hardly a surprise that he'd seen through his former subordinate.

"I said that I had witnessed King Emiya's power," Homura said slowly, choosing his words with care, "It was more than that though. It . . . it's hard to put it into words. I'd felt the power of a god before, when I had fended off the divine wind that tried to transform me. But that was a far off thing, like being brushed by the wind of the passage of a giant. Being right there when Emiya-sama burst out of the mountain, to have felt his steed extinguish a forest fire with all the effort it would take for you or me to snuff out a candle . . . there are no words, there just aren't."

The look on the field agent's face could only be described as 'rapt' now. He was no longer seeing the warehouse before him and the group that stood there, his sight was focused upon his memories, upon the recollection that had been burnt into his mind.

"I could feel the power then, power that enveloped me and what seemed like the whole world, and that was just the power of the Pegasus he was riding. That was the power of his servant, his mount. I could feel his power behind it, not in use, not pressing down, but just waiting to be used.

"THAT was a God Slayer, a King of all kings. You want to know why I'm so insistent that the Committee should commit itself to Emiya-sama's service? It is because I truly believe that there is no King in this world that shall ever surpass him!"

His gaze focused back upon the people before him, and there was something in his eyes that was at once compelling and disturbing. Ancient prophets that returned from the mountains with faith and knowledge and proceeded to form the religion of nations might well have had a similar fire burning in them. This was the gaze of a man that didn't simply believe, he knew that he was right.

"How would just us few manage to change the opinion of the Committee in general? We'll need at least a majority of the other lower members to be backing us if we want the higher ups to pay attention to what we say."

He'd . . . agreed? Makoto hadn't flat out stated his agreement, but that kind of question carried a silent message, a hint that he would follow through on this. About him the others were nodding and asking their own questions, but those questions were about what they would do and how they would do it. They weren't questions about 'if' or 'might', they were about 'how' and 'when'.

He'd done it!

Making sure not to let his sudden surge of elation show on his face Homura moved to answer the questions being asked of him. But even as he did so one thought kept repeating itself at the back of his mind.

What if despite his best efforts the Committee still made a mistake and chose to swear to Kusanagi-sama?

No, that must not be allowed to happen. The Seventh Campione was a great hero who had valiantly battled Heretic Gods and stood against his fellow King when he was enthralled by Venus, however that didn't change the fact that he was . . . unsuitable for the role.

King Emiya MUST be the one they chose. He MUST!

And if they made a mistake then he'd just have to see about changing their minds.

By any means necessary.


-()-


The blow came out of nowhere and arced straight towards Godou's throat. Without even thinking about it Ame no Murakumo no Tsurugi was in his hands and blocking the blow in a brief shower of sparks.

"Ah, good morning Athena-chan."

Even as he said the words the Seventh Campione felt like crying, just a bit. The fact that he could say that sentence, no even the fact that he used those particular words, was a sign that he had failed utterly in keeping his normal life.

How had it come to this? He'd thought he had a handle on things. Alright there were some aspects of his life that were still complicated, like him having to wake Erica up in the morning despite the fact that she still insisted on sleeping in the nude. And there was Erica dropping round every now and then to try and get him to go on a date with her and Yuri. And of course there was Liliana who would sometimes follow him around under a spell of invisibility to act as his bodyguard/knight . . .

The urge to burst into tears was growing as he thought over the way his life had changed in the last few months. Truly little by little any 'normality' in his life was being eroded away.

"Your fangs continue to sharpen Kusanagi Godou."

What was even worse was that he was getting used to this. There in front of him was the petite form of Athena wielding her large black and silver scythe that had just come close to taking his head off and it was a sadly familiar sight.

The fallen Goddess had followed through on her declaration that she would guard the elder of the Kusanagi siblings until his full strength was recovered. For two days she had followed him everywhere and even kept watch on him while he was sleeping. In all truth he'd probably have recovered after the first day, but the unrelenting vigilance of the child like immortal had left him unable to sleep or even relax properly. In the end it would seem even the superhuman vitality of a Devil King had its limits.

However once he'd recovered he'd thought that would be the end of it, his strength was restored and Athena would cease her endless vigil, which would hopefully mean he could have a shower without worrying about her barging in to guard him. Unfortunately Athena had taken his recovery as a free licence to begin 'training' him. Or, to put it more accurately, to begin randomly attacking him at virtually any time of the day so as to hone his reflexes and fighting instincts.

At first the girls had moved to defend him, but after Athena told them that this was to 'sharpen Kusanagi's fangs' Erica had decided that it was an excellent idea and had left them to it. The others had been somewhat more reluctant, but Ena had agreed that it was a good idea for their husband, her choice of words, to get some special training in. At that point Liliana had congratulated him on his courage to undertake such a dangerous improvement regime. There had actually been tears in her eyes as she stated how truly great a King he was to risk his life in order to better himself after the Battle of the Three Kings. For her part Yuri had been a bit less enthusiastic about it than the others, but had solemnly said that she understood his wish to be stronger.

Out of all of them he was pretty sure that Erica was the only one that knew how . . . reluctant to go through with this he was. On the other hand she was the one that had pretty much orchestrated Athena's first arrival in Japan simply so that Godou could gain another Authority. If she thought it was for his own good then she'd have no compunctions with putting him through the ringer.

And that was what led to the current situation. Still despite the danger of the state of affairs though the first few times that Athena attacked him had been pretty scary Godou had quickly adapted.

Though never having had any sort formal training in battle the Seventh Campione possessed natural instincts for battle. Even without the use of his Authorities when confronted with a supernatural foe he knew instinctively how to move and how to react. It was almost funny, put him up against a forty metre tall minotaur and he'd know intuitively what to do, put him up against a six foot common delinquent and then he'd have some trouble.

Now Athena's surprise attack training had honed those instincts to an almost razors edge. Though reluctant to admit it the young Kusanagi was forced to concede that it was proving effective. The fact that he could produce the Ame no Murakumo no Tsurugi at a moment's notice and use it to protect himself was proof of how far he'd come.

The problem was that he didn't want to admit it.

Godou was well aware that he was by nature something of a hypocrite. On the one hand he claimed to be against the largely needless violence that he'd found himself embroiled in since becoming a Campione. He didn't like the barbaric reasoning that the Heretic Gods and other God Slayers seemed to follow, he felt that it had no place in the civilized world. But on the other hand he couldn't deny the exhilaration he felt while in battle or the drive to defeat his foes that often kept him going. It was self-contradictory and oxymoronic, but there it was.

And by the look of things he had managed to get used to a cute young girl trying to take his head off with a scythe at random intervals.

Sometimes he really did feel like crying at the way his life had turned out.

Well, at the very least he'd managed to convince her not to perform any of her 'training' while he was at school or while his sister was about. Though most people weren't able to perceive beings of a supernatural nature unless they had some sort of magic talent of their own they'd still be able to see him, and he really didn't want to have to explain to people why he was apparently dodging something that wasn't there. It had taken a bit of fast talking, but in the end he'd at least been able to get that concession out of the fallen goddess, though she had acted as though she were granting some great boon.

So here he was walking to school and so used to these surprise attacks that he hadn't even broken stride while defending against it.

Granted Athena wasn't coming at him with her full force. The blow had been fast and deadly, but the killing intent behind it had been minimal, enough to make it dangerous but nowhere near as severe as it could have been.

GGhhhaaahhhh! Why was it that his life had turned out this way? No, wait, he knew the answer to that one, it was because he'd defied the fate of a mortal and killed a god. When you took that into account then maybe it wasn't so strange that his life wasn't the easiest in the world.

"Kusanagi Godou."

The quiet words of Athena brought him out of his depressed thoughts and back to the present. That was a bit unusual, normally after her surprise attacks the petite goddess would disappear immediately afterwards, why had she stuck around this time.

"I wished to let you know that I shall be departing this land soon. You will need to continue to sharpen you fangs on your own"

Huh? For a moment the full meaning of the words that had just been spoken didn't properly register in his head. She was going somewhere else? Was he free? Would he be rid of her? As that last thought ran through his head he felt a slight surge of guilt at having had it. He was well aware that it was largely irrational since getting rid of the girl that constantly made half hearted efforts to kill him was something any sane person would have wanted. On the other hand he was aware that in her own weird way Athena was only trying to help him, though admittedly it was so she could fight him to the death in a more satisfactory manner. The thing was that he never got any sense of ill intent from her, despite all her claims of intending to be the one to kill him.

As lunatic as the thought was he honestly felt this was her attempt to be friendly. In a human it would have been insane, but Athena was not a human and had no human sensibilities, she could only act in accordance with her nature. Perhaps . . . this was all she could really think of, he was a Campione and she was a Heretic God, god and god slayer, their relationship could only be adversarial. Yet despite that she was making that enmity as . . . friendly as she could.

He was getting a headache just trying to work this out.

"Uh, where are you going?" Godou asked without really thinking.

"If I wish for our final battle to be as enjoyable as I intend it to be then I must regain my full strength even as you polish your fangs. Though the power once held by the Gorgoneion is now lost to me there remain many such repositories of lost power left by other deities that I may harvest. Be sure to train yourself well and gain more power for when Athena returns she shall be a complete goddess once more."

The seventh Campione blinked at her calm explanation. There were many things he could have said to that, but oddly enough the first to be voiced was a simple concern.

"Be careful where you go, okay? Nee-san might hunt you if you go into her territory," actually if Luo Hao were to encounter the fallen goddess she'd probably let her go since the Chinese Campione would regard fighting a weakened foe to be beneath her dignity, best not mention that or Athena's pride might drive her to challenge the Chinese King, "Voban too, be careful of him."

"I have travelled the world before, Kusanagi Godou. Do not think me so foolish as to allow poor judgement to be my end."

"Well, yeah, I do know that, but I can't really help but worry you know.

"Your worry is unneeded."

As always the words were spoken in a calm and almost monotone manner.

The blush staining her cheeks did detract from it though.


-()-


It was taking all of the one time matriarch goddess's considerable will not to allow her inner turmoil to show on her face.

Granted she hadn't been entirely successful, but given the veritable riot of emotions seething within her the fact that the only outward sign was her cheeks heating up spoke volumes of her willpower.

Why did he have to ask that simple question with such guileless concern? Had he no shame in addressing a goddess that sought to take his head that way?

No, no he didn't. The knowledge came to her with the absolute certainty of its accuracy even as she asked herself the question. Kusanagi Godou was capable of trickery and deception in the heat of battle, but right here, right now, his ability to mislead her was the same as a fish's ability to cross a desert.

That meant that he really was concerned for her safety. He really did worry that she might end up falling prey to one of the older God Slayers. Truly this Devil King was a strange one, she was his self declared enemy, so he should welcome the thought of her being finished off by one of his fellow Kings. Of course it was even truer that he should have killed her when he had the chance in order to gain a new Authority. However in the past the first Campione of the land of Japan had always managed to confuse her with his irrational actions, so why should this occasion be any different?

Resisting the urge to shake her head the child-like goddess forced her unruly emotions under some sort of control and resolved to spend some further time examining them later. Right now she had more important things to deal with.

"Beware of the two fallen goddesses that have taken up residence with Emiya Shirou," she said, trying to divert attention from the blush that still lightly coloured her features. "Tiamat spent centuries carefully hiding and gathering the power she needed to regain her lost power. She shall not break her oath to him, but she is still one to be wary of. Guinevere is another to be cautious of. She is the handmaiden to the Strongest Steel and her first loyalty is to him. Do not dismiss her for her King Kusanagi, that could well spell your end, and I do not wish that end to be at the hands of any other than myself."

Yes, it would hardly do for him to underestimate the immortals that remained in the area. The thought that she would place him in her debt as well as leave a good impression before she left was ruthlessly suppressed.

"Oh-okay. Um . . . goodbye then."

Choosing not to draw things out any longer the white haired goddess gathered her power and transformed into a flock of owls. True, it was somewhat uncomfortable to assume this form during the hours of daylight, but she felt it to be a more dignified means of leaving than simply walking away. As her wings fluttered through the air her mind went over her plans and options. The black continent of Africa had no Campione of its own, nor did the lands of South America. Both had long histories and many secrets though, secrets that one such as her could track down and harvest.

Yes, now that she thought of it more she realized that spending so many years trying to track down her own lost power may well have been a blunder. Though the power of others might be an uncomfortable 'fit' with her own, in time it would change and become hers. It was a more round about way to regain her full divinity, but with what she had learned from Tiamat and Jord it was possible.

She would return to face Kusanagi Godou once more, and then . . .

In all truth she wasn't sure what she'd do then, but whatever it might be she felt an odd anticipation of the event.


-()-


On an island in the south Sea and near to the area now known as Malaysia the sand upon its beach moved as an unseen foot came down upon it.

The travelling god could feel her here even as he faded into visibility, his own legend and hers were tied intrinsically together after all. Granted, they hadn't parted on the best of terms, but she had never been one to hold too much of a grudge, not after she'd managed to take her pound of flesh anyway. He could also feel her power just about everywhere upon this small land, the lush greenery and forest-like jungle that ran across it could not be of natural origin but rather had been brought about by the power of a deity.

The majority of the island was made up of an enormous maze, a divine construction without any doubt. Even though it felt old the power of the construct lingered in the air waiting to draw the unwary into its depths so that they might be lost forever. The god's eyes narrowed as he looked upon the land, he was not so unaware as to be taken in by the Authority. He was a hero that had been revered for his cunning as well as his strength, but even so he was wary of advancing any further lest he be trapped in the twists and turns of the labyrinth before him.

His pondering was forgotten as he felt her become aware of his presence as well. She was a goddess of consummate skill in the areas that were within her domain and the same power that had given birth to the lush greenery also granted her awareness over her territory. Well, that was alright, after all he had only come to this island so that he could meet with her.

"Fufufufu, it has been a long time since this maidenly goddess has been visited by such as yourself. May I ask what brings such as you to my humble island?

There was no warning, no indication of her arrival. Unlike her usually showy entrances one moment there had been only empty space and the next instant she had been there.

No, that wasn't quite right. The figure before him was woven of shadows and light, a creation of the dawn and dusk that was nothing more than a projection. No doubt the goddess herself was somewhere nearby, but she was being wary, powerful though she was she was a witch rather than a warrior and as such her methods were not those of one that charged straight in. It was at once her weakness as well as the quality that made her so dangerous. Still, even as he looked at the silhouette before him the travelling god could not help but feel a smile tug at his lips. This brought back memories, recollections of a time long ago when the age of myths and legends was still upon the world.

"Am I to take it that I shall find my presence to be welcome here?" His question was spoken lightly, but underneath his careless tone was hidden wariness.

"Hostility to my one-time love? Fufufufu, I hardly think you have to worry about that, please feel welcome upon my island. It has been some time since I've had some company here, not since my last love departed and left me all alone."

It was nice to see that some things had not changed despite the passage of time. For all her power she had always hungered for love and companionship, he was one that knew this for sure having been her one time paramour himself.

"That is good to know, given how things went when we last saw each other I had thought you would be more . . . vexed with me."

Well, that was the diplomatic way of putting it. As he recalled he had sailed away from her isle with her raging and screaming imprecations after him and missing a portion of his power which she had torn from him as he had left. In the centuries since then he had regrown that lost power, but he knew that she still held the original as a trophy.

"Time heals many wounds, and I have had many heroes as my loves since then. Indeed, in recent times one of the Devil Kings has been my paramour. We created this island together and enjoyed a brief romance. Sadly he was less than true in his supposed affections and some years ago he left because he tired of life on this island. He even went so far as to use his labyrinth authority as a lock to imprison me here!"

It would seem that her luck with men seemed to be holding true, but then she always seemed to find the most difficult of heroes from which to seek affection. Her beauty and grace were such that men from all over the world would have gone on epic quests in order to gain her favour, but instead she had the tendency to fixate upon men that either were already in happy relationships or who simply weren't of firm moral fibre.

Simply put she always seemed to go after the wrong targets despite being a goddess.

"It took me a full four days to see through the labyrinth's magical effects and bypass them. During this time that fleet-footed hero had already fled and gone into hiding. For a time I pondered whether I should destroy this island that had become a labyrinth, but it is the legacy of the man I once loved after all. Fufufu, so that was why I built my residence here, alongside his final 'gift' to me.

"But enough about myself, what brings you here? If you once more seek to become my love I fear I must turn you aside, though our time together was glorious I do not think I could ever let you into my heart in such a way once more."

Ah, this was the crux of the matter, though the problem would be how to persuade her to aid him as he wished.

He hadn't expected her passion for him to have lasted, her taking him, a fellow immortal, as a husband had been an unusual thing since she normally chose mortal heroes to be her lovers. She would indeed love them devotedly for their entire lives, but as soon as they had passed she would mourn them for a few years and then go in search of her next love. To her it was the transitory nature of that love that lent it brightness and vigour, one like himself would forever be marked as 'one that she had once already loved', never to be taken into her heart as a lover again.

No, he could not rely upon past affections to sway her to his side, what was needed was something else, something more personal.

"It is somewhat unusual for you to remain here alone, have you not sought to find a new love suitable to you?"

"Sadly during his leaving his Highness Alexandre and I had a small . . . altercation. Since then I have had to devote my strength to healing the wounds inflicted upon me lest I find myself slipping away into the netherworld."

The silhouette waved one arm and the sound of metal rasping against metal echoed across the beach.

"However my recovery is almost complete and I was soon planning to begin my search for a new love. But that is of little moment, why have you come here now?"

"I . . . seek something, a power, a wisp, a sliver of something greater that rests within the form of one of the current generation of God Slayers. If I can gain this then I shall have the freedom to leave not only this world but the netherworld as well as my own legend. I shall be able to leave and seek out new worlds altogether, new horizons without end."

His voice grew richer and more fervent as he spoke, the strength of his dream and what he sought shining through his calm exterior brightly enough for even the blind to see. At the sight of his enthusiasm the sending of the goddess chuckled.

"I can see why such a thing would charm you, but why would such be of interest to me?"

"The power I seek lies within a most troublesome Devil King. His strength is such that he recently slew the knight god Mordred and defeated two of his fellow Kings at once in open combat. Moreover he wields strange magic that does not follow the hierarchy of power and runs against the world."

"Oh? It is strange to see you shy away from a foe. For him to concern you so he must be a hero on par with mighty Achilles. Perhaps I should seek out this young God Slayer for myself; if he is such an exceptional young man then it may be that he would make for a suitable new love."

The god allowed an amused smile to touch his lips. Really he should have known that his description of King Emiya Shirou would serve to intrigue the goddess rather than intimidate her.

"That may prove to be a thorny task to complete. His heart is already claimed, and when Venus sought to usurp that heart she was rewarded with death by a sword through her breast. It has become quite the talk in the lands of the East, how such a young King holds such a love in his heart that even the goddess of love herself could not usurp it and paid for trying with her life."

There was a brief hesitation, then the goddess's voice came back, with a warmth creeping into it that had not been there before.

"If you seek to dissuade my interest in this young King then you are doing a poor job."

A scowl of irritation threatened to form on his features, but he kept it from showing through iron will. Her becoming interested in the King he hunted would be nothing but more problems given that harvesting the shards of power within him might prove fatal. If the goddess learnt of that while intent upon pursuing him then she might well move against the travelling god to protect her new 'love'.

No, he could not afford for that, he had to somehow divert her interest. But what could he offer her? What could he . . .

Ah . . .

"Perhaps it would not be so wise to decide upon your new love so soon, not when whole new vistas of options may well open up to you soon."

"And what do you mean by that?"

He had her; he could hear the catch of curiosity in her voice. Now all he had to do was choose the right words to build upon that interest.

"I said that I sought new worlds to see, new horizons to sail. Such a journey can be undertaken alone, but it is always best done with comrades. Tell me, would it not be interesting to see the heroes of another world entirely? New legends, new deeds, new cultures, so many possibilities to be had. Would that not be something to see? Wouldn't it be something worth chasing?

"And beyond even that, would not some change not be welcome? This world seems to be growing so small, and in this age the only heroes to be had are the latest generation of the same Devil Kings that are our fated enemies. Isn't it better to gamble on a roll of the dice than to simply repeat a path that you've already walked?"

He was getting through to her; he could read it in the body language of her sending. A goddess she might be, but one thing both deities and mortals shared was that their stance and unconscious actions spoke volumes of what they did not say. Continuing his stream of words he gestured at the island about them.

"You say that you made this isle with the aid of one of the child of Pandora with whom you enjoyed a romance, but you must have known that such a love could not last. And now you consider seeking another King to take as a love, but do you think that shall be any happier a meeting?"

There was a slight flinch at that, it was tiny and had he not been looking for it he would easily have missed it, but it was a sign that what he'd said had struck home. Not letting the momentum of his speech fade he ploughed on.

"That is what I can offer. Aid me in gaining the freedom I seek and I shall happily bring you with me when I begin my travels. Who knows what wonders we might see, what heroes we may encounter. Hercules, Heracles, Achilles, Beowulf, Gilgamesh, they may all be out there somewhere, them and a hundred times a hundred that we know nothing of. Surely among the hosts of another world entire you shall be able to find a worthy love."

There it was, he'd been as eloquent and convincing as he could, now all he could do was wait to see if she would be ally or foe.

"Do you swear that you will take me with you when you travel to these new worlds that you seek? Do you promise to find me a new love with whom to share the joys of a passionate romance?"

It took all his will not to burst out into an exultant cheer.

"Yes, I promise to take you along as a companion upon my journey for as long as you wish to remain with me and I swear that I will help you search for a hero worthy to become your new love."

Both oaths were a small price to pay for gaining her aid. The one about finding her so heroic fellow to become her new husband might be tricky, but he was willing to put up with it. Once she had her new paramour she'd probably settle down with him somewhere for a few decades and leave him free to continue his explorations of the new horizons open to him.

"Very well then Odysseus, you have my support."

Ah, it had been far too long since he'd been called by that name, so many called him Ulysses after the Romans had given him that name. But even so there was still a certain pleasure to hearing himself addressed by his old Greek name.

"My thanks. Rest assured that this will serve us both, Circe."


-()-


Tiamat adjusted the shawl about her shoulders as she elegantly walked through the halls of King Shirou's home on the way to the kitchens. As she did so she noted that the embroidery on one of the edges was slightly singed, no doubt a victim of coming too close to one of her experiments. Still, the damage was hardly great, and it was but the work of a moment for her to use a tiny surge of her power to repair the small imperfection.

At least that was not beyond her, not like so much else.

The past two weeks since she had come to be a guest at the manor of the King of Steel had been both interesting and informative. At her request the eight Campione had been willing to allow her the use of one of the unoccupied outbuildings as a personal workshop and the fallen goddess had quickly set to work transferring the contents of her lair into it so that she could begin her work. A couple of days had to be taken to use spells to reinforce the walls and purify the ambient mana of the small building, but in the end she had been quite pleased with the results.

Once that had been done she had set to work carefully testing herself and trying the get a clear picture of just what kind of state she was in after Jord's betrayal.

The fact that she'd needed to perform such tests at all had been something of an indicator in itself. Gods normally possessed a completely intuitive knowledge of their Authorities and divinity, to not instinctively know such things was akin to not knowing one's own name. However the violent nature of the theft of her divine power, as well as the fact that it had as yet been unsettled when it was torn from her, had left their marks upon her on a physical, mental and spiritual level. Indeed, Tiamat supposed she should consider herself lucky that weakened though she was she was still perfectly rational, it would have been all too easy for a slight shift in how things had gone to have left her mentally crippled or even insane.

As things stood she was definitely weakened, but her mind was intact and with it all the knowledge and skills she had painstakingly built up over the course of the last few centuries. That would go a long way towards overcoming at least some of the weakness her reduced divinity forced upon her.

That had been the focus of the past few days of work, the consolidation of what power she had regained. Though she only had about a twelfth of the full power that she should have had even that small fraction was still several full magnitudes of power greater than anything she could have wielded as a Divine Ancestor. Her reserves of power, though low for a goddess, were now many times greater than they had been and that left her with a number of options that had been closed to her before.

Perhaps the greatest prize that she had regained was that she once more wielded a number of her Authorities. Rulership of Saltwater, Motherhood of Monsters, God-dragon's Fire, the three Authorities that she had used when confronting the three weakened Campione. They were the ones that she had used and as a result had been 'firmed' by that use and survived her attack, her others were not so reinforced and as such were lost, returned to an unformed state within her.

The ones that remained were available for her to use, but though their power was intact that didn't mean they were completely undamaged. Part of the effect of her reduced divinity had left them functioning inefficiently as far as power requirements went. Under normal circumstances she'd have been able to use her Authorities freely and with considerable ease, as things stood though tapping into any of her Authorities even once would consume about a full third of her reserves. That meant that she could, at the absolute most, use her Authorities three times before she was completely exhausted.

In the end she had managed to gain something from the entire debacle. She now existed on a tier of power well above any mortal mage or even divine ancestors; however she was easy prey for any true god or Campione.

Therefore she had to work out a way to slant the odds in her favour, should she find herself in need to battle any of the like.

So she had bent all her efforts and ingenuity to the task and begun the creation of a 'pseudo Authority'. In all truth the project was an absurdity when you thought of it. A goddess bending her mind, divinity and experience to creating a magic that mimicked the power of a god? Absurd, truly absurd.

Yet, at the same time she knew that such a thing was possible, she had seen the proof through her own spells.

Unlimited Blade Works, a magic of mortal origins that had none the less overwhelmed the power of several Authorities. There was the proof right there, and if it could be done once then surely it could be done once more.

Of course she didn't think it could be done easily or quickly, and she certainly didn't think that she'd be able to create anything on par with Emiya Shirou's impossible world any time soon. Instead she was focussing upon creating something that would help cover some of her weaknesses, something that would be able to ape an Authority enough to be useful. She had made some progress, but it was still some distance from being complete, it still required some work and effort.

And that was what brought her back to the present. Simply put she was hungry and lonely.

The mere notion that she, an immortal goddess, should be influenced by such pedestrian concerns was almost laughable, but none the less she had found herself growing increasingly dissatisfied with simply spending all her time in the workshop she'd set up tinkering with her collection of artefacts. Memories of the delicious food made by King Shirou's housekeeper had been plaguing her more and more in the last few days

And of course there was the King of Steel himself.

She'd kept on telling herself that it was perfectly natural for him to be on her mind, after all she was living in his home and she was vulnerable. He was the most powerful being in the immediate vicinity and she was trusting his protection to keep her safe from the vultures that would normally circle a weakened deity like her. Him being on her mind a lot was a perfectly rational reaction.

Though . . . that didn't explain why she sometimes found herself daydreaming about that moment, back when she'd thought she'd be devoured by her traitorous ally and had let despair consume her. The moment was seared indelibly into her memory, that terrible instant when she'd cursed everything, her luck, her ally, the whole world. And then, when she had been at her lowest, that was when he'd just been there. He'd been wounded almost to breaking and exhausted almost to death, and yet he had still stood before her and defended her helpless form. She still remembered the sight of his back, the white of his shirt dyed red with his blood and still he had protected her.

With a shake of her head she dismissed the memory from her mind. She should not allow herself to become so . . . fascinated by the young God Slayer, he might be an intriguing example of his kind, but in the end her focus had to be upon regaining her strength so she'd no longer be dependant upon him for her safety.

Of course, if she were to regain too much of her power wouldn't that mean that she and King Shirou might well find themselves as enemies? No, that didn't seem to fit what she'd seen of his character. Other Campione, such as Marquis Voban or her Eminence Luo Hao might have allowed a weakened deity to regain strength so as to have worthier opposition available, but Emiya Shirou didn't strike her as the type to do such a thing.

The scent of deliciously cooked food wafted down the short corridor towards her and suddenly Tiamat found that she had more pressing concerns than the long term future. Certainly as a deity, no matter how reduced, she was not prone to the mortal frailties that led to starvation, but that didn't change the fact that the feast ahead of her smelt delectable.

The main dining room of the manor had come something of an informal meeting place for the various individuals that lived under its roof. The resurrected soul that served to manage the finances of his king had a fair number of men and women working under him, then there was Emiya Shirou himself and his sister, the housekeeper and the Hime-Miko and her bodyguard acting as maids as well as any other souls that had been resurrected for the day and whom the eighth Campione invited for a meal. When taken all together it meant that there were normally about fifteen people that needed feeding, and due to the differing hours they kept meals were spread across the day in liberal strokes.

The arrangement had seemed somewhat disorganized to Tiamat when it had been explained, but she had to admit that the solution that Suzuki Asuka had come up with had been elegant in its simplicity. Since the main dining room was right next to the kitchen the housekeeper had set it up so that the buffet style of meals being served that had been available while the other Campiones had been about was continued. Anyone could come in at any time between breakfast and evening and find an excellent spread of food ready and waiting for them to dig into. Though the fallen goddess had only taken advantage of the food available a handful of times since she'd arrived she still found herself looking forward to it as she stepped into the dining room.

As she stepped in the first thing she noticed was that the room was unusually empty. Normally there were at least a handful of people in here since the dining room was where anyone went when they had a break from their work and wanted a snack. However rather than some of the resurrected money keeper's assistants chatting the only occupant of the room was the other immortal to be a guest at the eighth Campione's home.

Guinevere was sat at a table near the door and was eating some sort of small pastry that smelt of vegetables and meat. She was clad in a black dress with white lace edging that gave her an almost doll-like appearance. She looked up as Tiamat entered and delicately laid down the knife and fork that she'd been using, her every move that of a young lady brought up in the most noble of houses.

For her part the Mother of Dragons was irritated to have been caught off guard by her presence. Another limitation upon her it would seem. Had she been at her full divinity she would have been able to sense the proximity of the Divine Ancestor with ease. Instead she had been taken by surprise, not an experience that she was happy with, certainly not when it involved the Witch Queen.

"Ah, a good afternoon to you honoured Tiamat, have the past few days been treating you well?

The words were polite and the tone was mild, yet the fallen Mother of Dragons couldn't help but feel that the childish immortal was baiting her. For a moment she wondered just what kind of punishment she could have inflicted upon the witch queen of Britannia had they met under different circumstances, but then realized that such thoughts were pointless. Both of them were sworn to follow the laws of hospitality as honourable guests while under King Shirou's roof, and even if that weren't the case Lancelot was not a guardian that Tiamat could overcome in her current state.

Instead she allowed a cold smile to touch her lips as she elegantly seated herself at the table after selecting a dish of rice and meat.

"I have had no cause for any complaints, King Shirou has been most accommodating in allowing me to set up a workspace and my research is proceeding well. Already a number of avenues are open to me that I would not have considered before and have found them to hold considerable promise."

Let the golden haired child make what she wanted of that. She had no way of knowing exactly what it was that Tiamat was referring to and with any good fortune that uncertainty would gnaw at her. Granted it was a small and petty vengeance to be used by a goddess of her stature, but she'd take what victories she could.

Unfortunately her comments didn't yield the result she had hoped they would because rather than seeming intrigued or irritated Guinevere instead smiled radiantly at her.

"Guinevere is most glad to hear that your work has been fruitful for you. I have been unable to spend too much time upon my own work, not since I began aiding King Shirou with his own difficulties. Fortunately Guinevere is most familiar with spells to travel to and from the Netherworld, so much progress has been made."

Tiamat felt her face freeze at that, the polite smile on her face growing as wooden as a carved cabinet. The little . . . she'd been taking advantage of her absence to worm her way in closer with their host.

Internally she cursed; it was so obvious that it had completely slipped past her. She'd spent the time since her arrival trying to build a base of her weakened divinity that she could use to begin rebuilding herself, yet by doing so the fallen goddess had isolated herself away from the young King granting her sanctuary and given the Divine Ancestor time to . . . what? That was the question, she had obviously been trying to get closer to their host, but the end towards which she worked was still unknown to Tiamat.

On the other hand, did she really need to know? The simple fact was that she didn't want anyone to get closer to King Shirou than her, it was that simple.

Though . . . that was just because she didn't want others to have greater influence over her host than her, that was all. She certainly wasn't thinking about spending lots of time alone with him, or of establishing a closer accord between them, or of asking him to 'help' her find all the new pleasures that came with having this fully matured bod-

. . . What was she thinking?

The willpower of the Mother of Dragons was a formidable thing, a quality honed by centuries of dogged determination and iron discipline. Still, even so it was a formidable task to keep the blush from showing on her cheeks.

No! She would not allow herself to fall into such thoughts. King Shirou was a means to an end; he was merely discharging his obligations to her by protecting her after convincing her to stay in this world. That was it. That was all.

Really.

That was it.

. . .

Why did she get the feeling that she could even lie convincingly about this to herself even in the privacy of her own mind?


-()-


Guinevere smiled sweetly at the fallen goddess and mentally tallied up a victory on her part.

There was an art to baiting a deity, even one as reduced as the one standing before her. Push it too far and you'd find that even reduced a god was still perfectly capable of inflicting an assortment of unpleasant fates upon you. Of course the Queen of the Divine Ancestors had a certain advantage there, not only was she guarded by Sir Knight but she was also accorded safety by the oaths that both she and Tiamat had sworn. So long as she offered no threat or violence to the goddess she should be safe from any direct harm.

Still, even if that was the case to address a god in such a manner was not a sensible thing to do. So why was she doing it?

The fallen goddess shifted her weight slightly.

B-Bump

Ah, that was it. Despite herself Guinevere felt a sudden surge of jealousy as Tiamat's movement caused certain pronounced parts of her body to . . . bounce, for want of a better word, in a way that would heat the blood of any male not in the grave.

Aaaarrrgghhh, why did she have to have all the great curves? Guinevere was well aware that though she was supernaturally lovely her glamour was that of a child. She had, not to put too fine a point on it, all the curves of a washboard, though if anyone were to ever voice that piece of information to her directly she'd demonstrate to them one of the curses she had personally invented during one of her fits of pique several decades ago. It was quite a nice curse, one that boiled the blood even as it disintegrated the bones. Best of all it petrified the victim, meaning that there weren't any messy bloodstains to clear up afterwards.

That was part of the problem with her attempts to grow closer to her host, unlike the fallen goddess she was physically a child, meaning that unless the object of her interest had certain . . . unsavoury preferences, there was no chance of her using physical appeal as any sort of lever. She was well aware that Sir Shirou had no such inclinations

The fact was that despite her words Guinevere hadn't been able to get nearly as close to her host as she would have preferred.

After she had moved most of her personal effects from her current base and set up in the room she'd been provided with, the childish immortal had decided to take advantage of Tiamat's self imposed absence to try and get a bit closer to the young man she had named the King of Steel. Unfortunately it would seem that she had not yet gained enough of King Shirou's confidence to be told the full details as to what he was working on. In the end he had asked her to supply him with any knowledge that she might have in relation to the Netherworld and other such adjoining realities.

That had puzzled her. Why would he be interested in something like that? From what she knew he already had the means to enter the Netherworld if he so chose, and unlike the King of Los Angeles who reigned over a region of that otherworld. He had no Authorities that dealt with the different planes and to the best of her knowledge had no reason to concern himself with them. So why then was he investing such time and resources into researching such an area?

As Guinevere turned away with absolute dignity, despite having been ahead in their verbal sparring, a thought occurred to the Witch Queen. Could it be his lover, that Sakura girl?

Yes, that made sense and answered a number of questions that had been plaguing Guinevere since she'd learnt of her, such as just where was she?

Sir Shirou was a God Slayer, a Campione that ruled over all he surveyed. Though he didn't normally exercise the power he possessed virtually anything could be his on demand. Given that this was so why then was the girl so important to him that he had been able to overcome an Authority not with him? It was inconceivable that she was somehow being withheld by others. She knew enough of his character that if some organization was holding her captive it would have been annihilated. The same would be true if it was a deity that held her, after seeing him slay Mordred and defeat two of his fellow Kings Guinevere was quite certain that no ordinary deity, if such a thing existed, would be able to manage such a feat. But if a divinity of such exceptional power had appeared she was certain that she would have sensed it with the spells she'd crafted for just such a task.

That had led her to thinking that this Sakura might be dead, but on refection she'd decided that this couldn't be the case. Death was no barrier to the King of Steel, not with the power of Rule of the Underworld, so if his lover had been lost to the grave he could have easily called her back. She supposed there could be an emotional component, something like this Sakura having asked him not to resurrect her, but that didn't seem to fit.

Sir Shirou didn't seem to be sad or grieving though. When she'd tried to bring up the topic of his lover during their working together he'd changed the subject pretty quickly, but not before she managed to get a sense of things. He was frustrated but not sad. No, that wasn't quite right, there was some sadness there, but it was a dull type, not the keen edged pain of loss. There was also a warmth in his voice when he spoke about her, a subtle thing, but she'd had decades to hone her skills and knew how to pick up on small tells like that.

So, this Sakura was not dead but was somehow out of Sir Shirou's reach. At the same time the King of Steel was devoting all this time, money and effort into building up a veritable library on the subject of other worlds and planes. When you looked at it from that perspective the logical conclusion was glaringly obvious.

Sir Shirou's lover had somehow been banished to another world, apparently one beyond the Netherworld.

That was the only thing that made sense. She supposed that he might have been trying to come up with a way to access the Legends of the gods so that he could hunt them there, but such a plot seemed extremely unlikely coming from him. Had he been Marquis Voban or Salvatore Doni she could have seen him doing it. The latter would have thought it a marvellous idea to meet and challenge the gods in their home while the prior would have thought it a mouth watering way to hunt prey. But not Sir Shirou, the notion simply didn't fit.

And that left the question of what had happened to this Sakura and who could have cast her beyond the worlds? Could it be Angra Mainyu? That had been the first god that Shirou had slain, and it did make sense that the deity to first be slain by him would have had to do something truly unforgivable to have caused the young God Slayer to have killed him. There simply wasn't enough information available to her to be able to get a clear idea.

All of this went through Guinevere's mind in the space of a few seconds. In the time it took for Tiamat to place some perfectly cooked vegetables and spicy meat pastries on her plate and turn back round the Witch of Britannia had worked her chain of thoughts through to the end and schooled her features into a mask of childish smiles.

"So . . . you have been able to aid our gracious host in his endeavours?"

Tiamat's voice was mild as milk, yet there was an edge in there that hinted she was well aware that Guinevere had just realized something and wasn't in the least fooled by her innocent act.

"Indeed, Guinevere has been most happy to be of service to Sir Shirou."

"Well, it has been somewhat churlish of me to be so caught up in my own work that I have forgotten to show proper courtesy to our host. Perhaps I should also spend some time aiding him; I do have a copy of the original manuscript of 'Beyond the Veils' by Jude De La Benisceis."

It took all of the Divine Ancestor's considerable willpower not to let her eyes goggle at the fallen goddess's casual comment. A direct copy of the original manuscript? She knew dedicated researchers that would have been willing to carve off their own limbs, cook them in wine and feed them to pigs simply in order to read a few pages of such a document.

Jude De La Benisceis had been a mage during the Renaissance that had devoted himself to the study of other worlds. Not just other planes such as the Netherworld or the Legends that the gods dwelt within, other worlds where humans lived and made their own lives. He had made several interesting discoveries that had earned him considerable acclaim, however over time he became increasingly obsessed with not merely proving that these other worlds existed but actually travelling to them. Like a gyroscope slowly losing its centre he had spun increasingly out of control until one late autumn night he had attempted some kind of magical working that he was convinced would let him find and travel to the 'Beginning of all Possible Worlds'.

The attempt might have been partly successful given that they never found the top half of his body, but given how the large majority of his mansion had been reduced to little more than shards and splinters it was agreed that it was unlikely.

Still, despite his madness the magus had been a man of both brilliance and innovation, as a result the copies of the research he had undertaken were held to be almost as valuable as ancient grimoires and dragon bones. And Tiamat was just going to give him one of the original manuscripts?

"A most . . . princely gift." She commented, doing her best to keep the tension from her voice and only being partially successful.

"A princely gift is the bare least that should be expected by a King." The fallen goddess replied, an ever so slightly smug smile touching her lips.

"Indeed, I'm certain it will go a long way to allowing our host to be reunited with his love that much sooner."

Hah, that managed to wipe the smirk from her face, though the victory was somewhat bittersweet due to the accuracy of her statement. For almost a minute silence reigned through the room as both the immortals stared at each other. There was no malice or hostility in their eyes, only a careful measuring of the other as each tried to form a plan.

"Of course, Sir Shirou is still a long way from completing his objective," Guinevere said slowly, "Whatever it is that he seeks to do it is more than a mere theoretical exercise."

"So then, his majesty might still find himself unable to take any kind of definitive action for some time?" the Mother of Dragons asked her question in a light tone, but that only just masked the steel beneath it.

"But we would allow nothing to impair his research, the nature of the oaths that we swore permit nothing less."

"Perhaps it would be best if we were to offer our aid into other areas?" the question was offered in much the same way that a peace offering between warring armies might have been presented, though the fallen goddess's features didn't shift by even a millimetre as she spoke.

"Well . . . Guinevere has noticed that there seem to be some holes in the wards that sir Shirou uses to defend his home. Those rude fellows that interrupted his Feast were able to slip through one. He and his sister have shorn up their defences since then, but there are still flaws that those with enough power and experience can use."

A similar peace offering was proffered in return by the queen of the Divine Ancestors, her gaze clashing with that of the fallen goddess like a pair of swords in a highly formalized duel.

Unspoken was the fact that neither of them was too eager to see their host reunited with his lost lover. They would make no move to interfere, but if they were going to prove their worth to him they would do it in ways that wouldn't impact upon that particular goal

Guinevere was already going over options in her mind, irritated that she hadn't seen the obvious downside to aiding sir Shirou on his main project sooner. However there was the problem of what she could offer her host that would let her win her way into his good graces. Augmenting the defences of his home was in all truth a small thing, not the kind of gesture that would earn her much credit with him.

The problem was that she wasn't sure what she could do. Sir Shirou lacked the ambition that drove some of his kind, so offers of information upon possible Heretic Gods that he could hunt weren't an option. Nor did he care for arcane secrets or wealth, one he only sought if it advanced his goal and the other he already had in limitless amounts.

So what was there? What did he care about?

Well, there was his desire to be reunited with his lover, but that was already discarded as an option. There was his sister; one would have to be blind not to see how much he cared for her. However she was already protected by the weapon she wielded, her own magic and that huge grey and black giant that served her. Certainly the witch queen could come up with something to further protect her, but she didn't feel the gesture would have enough meaning, not when the girl probably wouldn't even use whatever she was given out of spite.

No, this was going to needed careful thought, preferably before Tiamat could come up with anything.


-()-


The bell that signified the end of the day rang through the halls of the school. As the other students in his classroom packed their books and pens away Shirou leaned his head into his hands and tried to sooth the headache that had been plaguing him for most of the day.

He was . . . coping. The irritation and unhappiness that had been dogging him since the days after the Battle of the Three Kings still simmered, but at least he was able to keep a lid on it.

Slowly he put his own books away, his movements taking their time as his mind wandered. The simple truth was that he was tired. No, not tired, that wasn't quite right. He still had plenty of energy, but he felt like a hamster trapped in a wheel, no matter how much effort he put in he didn't seem to be going anywhere.

He'd been trying to do something constructive with his irritated energy the last few days. Channelling it into his research had proven to be somewhat effective, rather like beating at a sand bag was a way to release stress he'd found that pouring his effort into going over the mounds of documents he'd acquired served a similar end. As a result he'd managed to plough his way through quite the backlog of research as he'd tried to exhaust the simmering irritation within him.

Yet just like the hamster in the wheel he'd felt as though he wasn't making any kind of progress. Oh, he had analysed and sorted through dozens of reports, grimoures and manuscripts. He'd been able to read through works that spanned centuries and continents. He'd seen knowledge written in languages that were no longer spoken aloud and that he only understood due to the gift for languages that being a Campione imparted upon him.

And yet it all seemed so meaningless.

For all the effort he put into his research it seemed as though he was doing nothing but finding various variations upon the same thing. There was the Netherworld, there was the plane upon which the legends of the Gods existed, there was the theoretical plane that souls went to after their deaths. That was it, that was all that the mages and scholars of this world had been able to confirm. There were theories and wild speculations, but unlike the mages of his home dimension the notion of parallel worlds and alternate dimensions was nothing more than a mildly educated guess here. There was no concrete research, at least not in recent decades and certainly not by anyone mentally sound. This world had no equivalent to Zelretch, nobody that had been able to create their own variant of the Kaleidoscope.

It was like running in quicksand, no matter how hard he tried all he managed to do was accelerate his own sinking.

He missed Sakura. It was a simple thing, but it seemed to be colouring a lot of his life. Come to think of it that might be what was responsible for his ill temper of late, could it simply be a case of frustration due to the slow pace of progression in his efforts to find a way back home?

Shirou felt a scowl trying to form on his features and with a mental effort kept his expression neutral. He was well aware that the History Compilation Committee had some agents here, aside from Mariya Yuri, to keep an eye on both the Campione. The last thing he wanted was for one of them to set off a false alarm because he saw Shirou's unhappiness and thought it was a sign that he'd soon be trying to sink Japan beneath the waves.

. . . had he really just thought that? Maybe going to bed early tonight might be a good idea. Granted he hadn't been getting many good nights of sleep lately, the blasted dreams that he-

-the scent of her filled his mind as the curtain of her hair seemed to slither across his shoulders and chest. Her soft and hot skin pressed against him as-

-could never quite remember kept waking him up in a strange combination of arousal and alarm. The only times he seemed to be able to sleep properly were when he worked himself to utter exhaustion beforehand, not an easy task given the enhanced vitality that being a Campione bestowed upon him. Maybe he should try for something like that tonight; he had been meaning to get some use out of those weight machines in the manor's small gym. He hadn't really taken advantage of it since they'd moved in, maybe-

"Ahem, Emiya-san we must speak to you of a matter of grave importance."

-now would be a good time to give them a work out. Mind you, given that the muscle fibres of Campione were as strong as kevlar would that mean that normal weights would be enough to give him the exercise he needed? For that matter would his enhanced vitality let him heal up stronger? Damage to one's self was an intrinsic part of self improvement, but did his healing allow for that improvement or did it revert him to a healthy state rather than advancing him to a repaired one?

Well, Luo Hao was clearly in excellent shape and she'd been training for literal decades. On the other hand if-

"Hey, Emiya! Are you listening to me?!"

-their healing kept them static then how could they advance. He didn't know about the other God Slayers, but he was absolutely certain that the Ruler of the Martial Realm would not accept anything holding her back like that. Oh, wait, wasn't there something else, a skill that all Campione possessed but which only the most experienced could use at will? What was it called again? Manifesting something, a spirit? No, not that. An eidolon? No, that didn't sound right either.

Ah, that was it! Manifesting an-

"Stop ignoring me! This is important! We need you to-"

-Avatar! That was when an experienced enough King could transform their bodies in certain ways simply by willing it. They could eliminate physical flaws to enhance their appearance, merge their bodies with Authorities in order for them to function better or simply make small adjustments. Could it be that the only way to gain muscle mass was to learn to control that talent?

Without even thinking about it Shirou leant slightly to the side to avoid a hand that tried to grasp his shoulder. There was a sudden yelp as whomever it was overbalanced and nearly fell down the stairs the young Emiya had been walking past. Utterly unaware that he was doing it Shirou reached out with one hand, caught the back of the falling figure's jacket and hauled him back to safety.

No, that didn't make sense. As far as he had been able to determine the gifts that came with being a Campione were pretty much universally benevolent. It wouldn't make any sense for the recovery aspect of it to be flawed in such a way.

Perhaps he was thinking about this too much, it would probably be better for him to simply have the workout and see what happened. Nodding to himself he picked up his pace and made his way out of the school. Illya had already been picked up by Yusuke, but Shirou had told him this morning that he planned to walk home today, to give himself a chance to work out a bit of his frustrated energy.

"Errr . . . Emiya? You do know we're here, right?"

Maybe a swim as well once he was done. It was always nice to dive into the cool waters after working up a good sweat from a round of exercise.


-()-


Takagi, Nanami and Sorimachi all looked at each other as they tried to work out just what the hell had just happened.

"Did he . . . just refuse to acknowledge our existence?"

Nanami was the one to voice the worry that was plaguing them.

"I don't think he refused to, it's more like we didn't register at all."

Sorimachi sounded somewhat shell-shocked, clutching at his portable games console with an almost fearful strength as he stared at the back of the older student that was now disappearing through the door at the end of the hall. How? How could this be?

What he and his friends were unaware of was the simple fact that all the training he had undergone, as well as the skills he'd inherited from Archer's arm, had left the eighth Campione with a somewhat distorted subconscious way of measuring the danger threat of those about him. As lost in his thoughts as he had been he hadn't really registered the trio of students trying to get his attentions as much more significant that the furniture about them. there was nothing malicious about it, it was just that with his mind elsewhere his reflexes were simply grading everything about him on a scale of 'how much of a threat' and 'how much in need of saving', the latter being a holdover from his days before the Holy Grail War, not nearly as huge a part of him as they had been, but still there.

"Could it be that he's on such a higher tier of life than us that we don't even register with him?"

The ultimate irony was that Takagi's hushed whisper was actually not too far off from the truth.

"Of course! He has MAIDS, how could we have been so blind as to think we could approach him as though he were a normal person!"

And then the big student's speculations separated from reality as he decided that having maids in one's employment lent one a semi-divine nature.

"I see, how could I have been so blind?! Not only does he have the perfect imouto he also has nadeshiko maids. In order to defeat him and bring him round to our cause more drastic steps must be taken!"

The flames of determination burnt in Sorimachi's eyes as he raised his fist in support of his large friend's revelation. Off to the side Nanami was looking a bit less enthused but was none the less nodding his head in agreement.

He would not yet abandon his dream of the cat-eared maid café, not when the means to attain it were right before him.

All he needed was to come up with an improved plan, then nothing would stand in his way.


\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


Omake: A Better(?) Archer

"Thou seven heavens, clad in a trinity of words, come past they restraining rings, and be thou the hands that protect the balance!"

With this as the end of his prayers, Tohsaka Tokiomi felt that the acceleration of the prana that raced through his body had reached its uttermost limit.

Thunder and lightening roared, accompanied by rolling clouds borne on a mighty wind. In the pressure of such a gale that wouldn't even allow onlookers such as Kirei to open their eyes, the patterns of the summoning circle glimmered with brilliant light.

Finally, the Magic Circuits connected with the plane that was not of men . . . from the dazzling light that endlessly shone forth, the dark silhouette of an upright man emerged.

And it was unquestionably not the famed Gilgamesh. Oddly formal clothes, a high collared opera cape, a strange helmet/mask with antennae and eyes that were vaguely insectile. With all the dramatic flare of a Hollywood vampire the figure raised its arm and extended it outwards as though to ask a woman to dance with him.

"So . . . I take it that you are to be my partner for this adventure?"

Tohsaka Tokiomi was not a man that would remain stunned for long, things may have taken a turn that he hadn't seen coming, but he was still a magus to the marrow in his bones, and a magus knew how to adapt when needed.

"Indeed I am, these Command Seals I bear are the proof of my position."

He was careful not to be confrontational or disrespectful. No matter how . . . outlandish this Servant's appearance might be that didn't change the fact that this was a Heroic Spirit, a human so worshipped, an existence that had grown so large, that upon his death he had escaped the traditional wheels of Fate and taken up residence at the Throne of Heroes. Even if he did have the Command Spells this was not a being to be taken lightly.

As he waited for the Servant to reply he used his 'Master's vision' to take a look at the parameters of his Servant.

His strength was below average and his agility mediocre. His endurance was surprisingly high and his mana was of extremely high level. Was this a Caster? He'd been aiming to summon Gilgamesh in the Saber class, since the strongest hero in the most outstanding class would to all intents and purposes guarantee his victory. If he had somehow summoned one of the weaker classes it would make his goals more difficult to achieve.

No, he could see the Class of the Servant now. Archer, one of the three Knight Classes. Not what he had wanted, but definitely something he could work with.

Then he saw the Class skills and it took every ounce of his self control not to flinch. A+ in both Independent Action and Magic resistance? That was both heartening and worrying. With an ability to repel magic of that level his Servant would be a nightmare for any of the other Masters to deal with as well as the Caster of this war. On the other hand such a high level of Independent Action meant that there was far less of a leash upon the Archer than Tokiomi was comfortable with. One of the main reasons that the Servants worked with the Masters was that they needed them to anchor them in the world as well as supply them with prana.

This Archer had no such dependencies since he could exist without a Master to support him. Indeed if he could find an external source of prana, such as feeding on humans if he lacked any inhibitions to doing so, then he could exist completely independent of anyone.

To make things even worse his immensely high Magic resistance meant that even if a Command Spell was used upon him then he might be able to resist it. For any command to have a certainty of success it needed to be reinforced by a second, or maybe even third, Command Seal. That meant that if he wanted to complete the Greater Grail by sacrificing all seven Servants to it then he'd have to make it through the war without using a single one of his Seals.

This was not good, the war had not even begun and already his situation was growing dangerously fragile. Being sure not to let any of his worries show on his face the head of the Tohsaka family moved on to evaluate his Servant's other skills and Noble Phantasms.

What he saw there was . . . encouraging.

A single Noble Phantasm that was actually many, another that allowed for free movement without being detected, a personal skill that implied that this Archer had slain not only one god in the past but many. It would seem that despite his inconveniences this Servant was unquestionably a strong one.

All of this flashed through his mind in the time it took for the Servant to react to his words. In response to them Archer simply nodded his masked head and gestured grandly with one arm.

"Very well then, I am John Pluto Smith, summoned under the Archer class and I shall be the one to hold the Holy Grail in my hands at the end of this war. Truly you have been most fortunate to have gained a hero such as myself as your partner in this battle."

Then the strange multiple eyes of the mask suddenly came around and focused upon Kirei.


-()-


The former Executioner in the past had faced vampires and other such monsters that most humans would have believed only to exist in the darkest depths of the world of nightmares. None of them, no matter how powerful or vicious, had ever been able to shake him regardless of how great their power had been. Now though, as the weight of the Servant's gaze settled upon him, the apprentice mage found himself unable to move, like a bird caught in the eyes of a snake.

It only lasted for an instant though, then the same training that had saved him countless times before rose up and the spell like effect was broken. Even so Kirei mentally elevated his threat assessment of the Servant by several notches. No Servant could be taken lightly, but the presence, the sheer weight of this one's existence, was many times greater than Assassin's could ever hope to be.

"And what have we here? I can sense that this one is a Master as well, I take it that an alliance has already been arranged between you?"

The casually spoken words alleviated some of the concern that he was going to be attacked, but the younger Kotomine did not allow himself to completely relax.

"Correct," Tokiomi agreed as he stepped forwards to introduce his apprentice, "It has been agreed that Kirei and his Servant will support us in our own endeavours to gain the Holy Grail. To this end he has been my apprentice for the last three years and has summoned the Servant Assassin."

"I see," there was a definite hint of amusement to the voice of the masked Servant now, "So the Church that is meant to act as an impartial moderator is in fact closely allied with one of the founding families to ensure their victory. Hah, when King Shirou told me that his Holy Grail War was a battleground to be wary of I thought to doubt him. It is nice to see I have been proven wrong."

King Shirou? John Pluto Smith? He had been told about the Holy Grail War in the past? With so few words the oddly dressed Servant had managed to raise a myriad of further questions.

"Well, regardless of that there is a much more urgent matter to attend to!" The declaration, accompanied as it was by the dramatic gesture of the Servant's arm and cape, pull Kirei's thoughts out of his contemplations and back to the present.

"What would that be your highness?"

It would seem that Tokiomi was following the plan that he had originally intended to use to deal with Gilgamesh, bow his head and play the part of the servant as opposed to the Master. This John Pluto Smith seemed to have something of an ego of his own, so perhaps it would work, if not they could adapt.

"Needless to say we must find your apprentice a better suit," the masked Archer "It is hardly fitting for an ally of ours to be clad in such a drab and uninteresting garb. It is most fortunate that your own choice in clothing matches my beloved attire, but we must see about finding something for our ally to wear."

It was at that point that Kotomine Kirei began to have some doubts as to this alliance.


-()-


"This plan is a good one, but I can none-the-less see some flaws."

Doing his best not to allow any of his frustration to show on his face the head of the Tohsaka family inclined his head in acquiescence to his Servant.

"And what flaws do you see in it? Surely faking Assassin's death so that he can be free to act as a scout and an unseen knife in the shadows is the best way to employ him."

"The objective of your plan is a fine one, unfortunately the method by which you have chosen to exercise it. It is known to all that Kirei is your student, should he suddenly turn against you it will no doubt raise some eyebrows. Also the manner in which you plan to have me confront his Assassin seems to be somewhat too staged to be quite believable. No, your plan is a fine one, but it requires some modification to be of full utility.

"But more than that, if one of the Servants of this war is to die it is vital that we put on a spectacle worthy of the event, don't you think?"

"Spectacle?" Tohsaka was really starting to have some worries by this point.

"Oh, I believe I have a few ideas."

The father of Rin and Sakura suddenly had a distinct sinking feeling.


-()-


This . . . this went beyond anything that Tokiomi could have imagined. He stood in a daze, the sleeve of his suit smouldering slightly where he'd just patted out the flames that had caught on it, and stared at the scene before him as he tried to make up his mind as to whether or not he should be despairing or elated.

Archer sat upon a throne made from the broken remains of the Tohsaka family manor. On his left was the quietly growling form of Berserker and about him were the myriad forms of Assassin. Across from them, separated only by the length of his estate's gardens, Saber and Rider stood side by side. Both the powerful Servants looked worn and haggard, the price for the battles they'd fought their way through, but both were unbowed and more than ready to face the foes before them.

"So . . . didn't see this coming, did you Tohsaka?"

With an almost mechanical stutter to his movements the proud magus turned to face the slumped man standing next to him.

Kariya definitely looked like he'd seen better days, but compared to how he'd been just last week it was an improvement. He still moved with the same limp and his arm still gave him trouble, but the expanded blood vessels had gone down and at least some of the disfigurements had faded. He still looked terrible, but it was far better than the 'one foot in the grave' air he'd had not too long ago.

Still, the Matou's somewhat derisive comment was completely accurate, he hadn't seen this coming, but then what sane man possible could have done?

The first hint that something had gone wrong was when the Matou household had suddenly exploded. At first Tohsaka and his allies had thought that Emiya had somehow engineered it, but that notion was dispelled when Archer had shown up with Kariya and Sakura in tow. Apparently the eccentric Servant had met the Matou Master during one of his scouting missions. Exactly what had passed between them wasn't revealed, but in the end the Servant of the Bow and the dying Master had struck a deal.

Archer had promised to heal Kariya, using his unusual sorcery, and see to the absolute annihilation of Matou Zouken down to the most microscopic level. In exchange the Matou Master would give up on competing for the Grail and would instead pledge his Servant to Archer's support. Apparently two shots of the Artemis Arrows had been more than enough to raze the well protected magus family home to the ground, and the faerie familiars that served him had been more than enough to find and destroy the few worms that had escaped or been secreted elsewhere.

In the final analysis, the seemingly immortal Matou Zouken was dead, Sakura was not going to be learning any magecraft, and Kariya was now apparently almost fanatically loyal to Archer. Tohsaka had, quite understandably in his opinion, been somewhat put out by his Servant's stratagem meaning that his second daughter would never be able to live up to her potential in magecraft. Not now that she was in the care of the one that had abandoned the path of the magi.

However in the end he had agreed with his Servant that it had been the wisest course. With this move they had secured the service of a powerful Berserker, and if Tokiomi had his wish granted then the security of both his daughters would be assured. With that in mind the Tohsaka Master had thought that perhaps things would once more begin to go smoothly.

No such luck.

The second hint that things were going astray was when Kotomine suddenly declared that he hadn't been spending enough time with his daughter, had passed his Command Spells to Archer, something that shouldn't have been possible, and departed for parts unknown. It had all happened so fast and come out of the blue so suddenly that neither Tokiomi nor Risei had been able to pull their scattered wits together in time. In the end they had found themselves short by one ally and Archer had been up by one.

By that point the situation was verging upon the absurd. How could Archer and Assassin work together? One of them would have to die in order for the final phase of the Holy Grail War to come to fruition. Alliances between the Servants always broke down because of this.

But as it turned out the Archer called John Pluto Smith had already come up with a solution. Due to the participants of the War having taken extra care in their preparations there were an unusual number of above average Servants in this iteration of the Heaven's Feel ritual. Both Saber and Rider were extremely powerful, and the Berserker of this was also of the highest quality. By Archer's estimation that meant that the other five Servants held at least the power of six, meaning that the Grail would manifest while both he and Assassin remained.

Of course that still left the issue of who would get their wish, but once again the eccentric Servant had an answer. As it turned out he had no interest in making a wish on the Grail, he simply wanted to win it. Once he had done so he was perfectly happy to let Assassin have his wish. Feeling somewhat goggle eyed Tokiomi had asked him just why he wanted to simply win the Grail. In answer Archer simply said on sentence.

"The way Shirou-kun described it; I thought it would be interesting."

In the end things had gone largely in the masked Servant's favour. Caster had been the first to die, he and the abomination he summoned up being consumed by the fires of the Flames of Annihilation. Then, while Archer had been recovering, Assassin had tracked down the two Masters that had been allied to Lancer and cut the hands with the Command Seals from both of them. They had still been alive afterwards, but with the link to them cut Lancer had quickly faded from existence.

Archer had been somewhat displeased with this and had chastised the multi-bodied Servant for acting in such a manner during his period of recovery and preventing Saber and Lancer from completing their duel. Saber took it far worse though, because the next time the powerful female Servant had been seen she had entered into an alliance with Rider.

Their joint attack had managed to pin down Assassin within Rider's reality Marble and resulted in the death of more than half of his 'selves'. It would have been a total slaughter had not Archer attained the form of the Archmage, by sacrificing the Tohsaka manor, and somehow broken into the Reality Marble to save his ally.

Tokiomi wasn't entirely sure of what had taken place within the powerful Noble Phantasm of the King of Conquerors, but a somewhat battered Archer had emerged with just under half of Assassins bodies while an equally singed and battered Saber and Rider had departed in the opposite direction. Both sides had taken stock of the others abilities and had elected to forgo a battle to the end at that point.

Now things were different. Berserker might be there to aid the Servant of the Bow, but Assassin was much reduced and both the enemy Servants had been able to observe the power of the Tohsaka head's eccentric Servant, and two such famed military Kings would have certainly come up with some strategies to use against him.

This . . . this was anarchy. Tokiomi was no longer a player in this game. By the Root, given Archer's absurd levels of Prana and his skill of Independent Action he wasn't even really a piece on the board. The Tohsaka Master had been reduced to barely more than a mobile piece of scenery by the wild flood of events that his Servant had set in motion.

To be sure it looked as though he was well on the way towards winning the Grail, but as things stood it seemed unlikely that Tokiomi would be able to claim the Greater Grail.

To complete the Grail would require the power of not six Heroic Spirits but seven, so unless he could somehow engineer the death of either Archer or Assassin then he'd only be able to attain the Lesser Grail. To be sure that was a prize in and of itself, but what he sought was the Root, the Akashic Record itself. And that required the Greater Grail.

The problem was that his Servant still remained largely uncontrollable given his independence of his Master and his high level of Magic Resistance.

As the two alliances of Servants prepared for battle Tokiomi decided to for once forgo the fabled elegance and dignity of the Tohsaka family and simply sat down on a still smoking length of timber. Why? Why couldn't he have received the Servant he'd planned for? Surely Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, couldn't have been as much of a headache as John Pluto Smith.

Right?


John Pluto Smith

Alignment: Chaotic Good.

Class: Archer (Also eligible for the Caster and Assassin Class)

Strength: D

Endurance: B+

Agility: C

Mana: A+

Luck: A+

Noble Phantasm: A+

Class Skills:

Independent Action: A+

This Servant can remain in this world indefinitely even without a Master. However, in order to activate his Noble Phantasms, it is necessary to possess an external supply of prana or he will consume his own stores and eventually disincarnate.

Magic Resistance: A+

Cancel spells of A+ rank or below. In practice, the Servant is untouchable to modern magi and devilishly troublesome to even legendary spell users. As such it would not be an exaggeration to title the Servant a "Magus Killer". However this resistance only extends to external spells. Should a spell be applied internally, through the use of a potion or a gas, then the Servants Magic Resistance is only D rank.

Personal Skills:

God Slayer: A+

A title only granted to those that have slain a deity in personal combat. As a Campione John Pluto Smith has personally battled numerous divine figures from various cultures and always emerged victorious. At this level this skill allows him to receive an increase in power to his Noble Phantasms and physical skills equivalent to the level of Divinity possessed by any enemy that he may fight.

Magecraft: B

Despite being a Campione John Pluto Smith is also well versed in the modern magic of his world and is capable of casting a wide variety of different spells with relative ease. However, due to the nature of his world these spells can never surpass a Noble Phantasm or do serious damage to a Servant. Against purely human targets or summoned servitors they are quite effective though.

Charisma: C (Reduced from B due to his over theatrical tendencies)

As one that holds the title of 'King' John Pluto Smith has the necessary will and charisma to lead a country if he so chose. However, since such an activity would clash with his personality and style, the effectiveness of this ability loses a rank of efficiency.

Noble Phantasms:

Authorities of the King: The Plunder of the God Slayer

Type- Variable Rank- C – A++ Range- 1-99 Targets- 1-1000

This Noble Phantasm represents all the Authorities that John Pluto Smith gained as a Campione. Much like the Gates of Babylon this is a single Noble Phantasm that contains many 'sub-phantasms' each of which is highly potent in their own right, but can also be subject to certain limitations or conditions upon their use.

Metamorphosis: Multiple forms of Divinity

Type- Support/Anti-Unit/Anti-Army Rank- B-A++ Range- 1-199 Targets- 1-1000

The Archmage: The form of a fifteen metre tall giant that can only be attained through the sacrifice of a large manmade object. In order to 'claim' a building John Pluto Smith must spend a full days worth of time there and also mark it with an Aztec rune. Once the sacrifice is made he can assume the form of the giant which possesses A+ ranked strength and endurance and can manipulate the weather to cause widespread damage, call down lightning bolts and cyclones down upon foes.

The Jaguar: By offering a sacrifice of light (normally in the form of causing a blackout or extinguishing all other light sources in an area) John Pluto Smith can assume the form of a jaguar that possesses supernatural speed capable of covering hundreds of miles in just a few seconds. While not suited for direct combat this form is ideal for hunting and closing on targets.

The Demon Bird: This form is that of a giant demonic bird with black feathered wings and can only be assumed by offering a sacrifice of destruction. The sacrifice takes the form of an earthquake of 3 to 4 on the Richter scale in the area. This form possesses excellent speed and manoeuvrability in the air. It can also release a black smoke from its body that has a paralysing effect upon magic. Any Noble Phantasm of C rank or lower will be rendered temporarily unusable by this smoke, while higher level ones will suffer a rank down penalty as long as they are in contact with the smoke.

The Flames of Annihilation: Arguably the most potent of the forms John Pluto Smith can assume. The flames of this form can only be assumed by a sacrifice of oneself, after taking this form the Servant will be rendered extremely weak and immobile for a period of no less than a full 48 hours. Once the form of these black flames is taken they are able to inflict A++ level damage to any caught in them. This form can also be taken so as to avoid receiving a fatal wound, though doing so can be a risky business.

Artemis Arrows: Divine Bullets of the Moon

Type- Anti-Unit/Anti-Fortress Rank- A+ Range- 1- 99 Targets- 1 – 1000

A powerful long range attack that can be fired from the strange silver gun that can only be operated with this Servant's consent or projected from the mouths of some of John Pluto Smith's other forms. Each individual shot possesses immense destructive power, but that power can be enhanced with further shots being added to it. Though the theoretical output of this Noble Phantasm, should all six bullets be fired together, could be that of an Anti-Nation attack the fact that there are limits upon the number of 'bullets' available makes the chances of this taking place extremely remote. Should the Holy Grail War take place at a time close to a New Moon then it is possible that Archer will be able to replenish his supply of shots since they regenerate under that phase of the lunar cycle. It is possible to fire these bullets from the mouths of the forms of the Jaguar or the Demon Bird, but doing so causes a reduction in their level of power.

Mastery of Faerie: The Stolen Crown of Oberon

Type- Support Rank- B Range- 1- 99 Targets- 1 – 19

This Noble Phantasm allows for two effects. Firstly John Pluto Smith can use it to enter the dimension known as 'Faerie'. This realm is one that can only be accessed via this Noble Phantasm or another that possesses similar qualities; as such it makes for an excellent bolthole into which he can retreat without fear of being followed. Being inside the faerie realm also accelerates his recovery from any injuries he may have received by a factor of three. Secondly this Noble Phantasm grants John Pluto Smith total sovereignty over the beings that inhabit that realm. These fairies can serve him in much the same capacity that familiars would to mages. Though they lack any sort of combat ability the fairies he controls are vastly superior to virtually any kind of familiar mages can create in terms of speed, intelligence and utility. This aspect of the Noble Phantasm is used predominantly for spying and repositioning of resources.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Annie Charlton: The Secret behind the Mask

Type- Support Rank- B Range- 1 Targets- 1

Though his true secret identity was never revealed it was widely known that there was someone behind the mask. When this Noble Phantasm is activated John Pluto Smith will be replaced by the young woman Annie Charlton. While in this state the Servant will be unable to use his/her other Noble Phantasms and will have all his/her physical parameters dropped to human levels. At any point in time this Noble Phantasm can be dropped and his/her full power regained, though if anyone witnesses the change from one form to the other they will gain a permanent immunity to the effects of this Noble Phantasm.

While the Servant is in the form of Annie it is impossible for her to be perceived as anything other than a normal mage. Indeed if one is not perceptive it would be quite easy for her to be mistaken for a normal mundane human. Even high level sorceries or information gathering Noble Phantasms will be unable to pierce the deception unless they are of A+ rank or higher.