The chapter of August!

P a treon: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444

Beta-ed by Draconic


Shirou found himself in a familiar world. Ever since his Grail War, he'd gone there every night, pulling new swords from the dusty terrain of the barren hill.

But it was not his Unlimited Blade Works he found himself in. Instead of an amber horizon, the sky was blotted out with huge, billowing clouds of steam and soot. Giant gears towered above him in the distance, the massive mechanisms slowly churning about like the bellows of a mighty forge.

Shirou couldn't help but smile just a bit. The last time he was here, the gears had been rusted and stalled. He was glad to know that even if this world was still that of a machine, its owner had at least regained the will to move forward. He didn't know how long it would be for, and Rin didn't tell him what she spoke of with this world's owner, but she had assured Shirou that this man had been sorted out.

Speaking of…

"I certainly didn't expect to see you here again."

Shirou looked up at a massive barren hill, the only natural protrusion in the otherwise flat and desolate expanse. At its blade covered peak was the speaker, a tall, dark-skinned man with silver hair and a crimson mantle.

Though it had been years since they'd last seen each other, Shirou could never forget him. After all, the man was him.

He strode over to the bottom of the hill.

"No offense intended, but I just want to confirm," Shirou began with a wary expression, "that you aren't going to try and kill me the moment I come up there. Are you?"

"If you mean to ask whether I'd take issue with it, I certainly wouldn't have any problem maiming you, but I get the impression even that would upset a certain pair of women."

Shirou realized, with some mild irritation, that he actually found that slightly amusing.

He climbed the mild slope of the hill to join the Heroic Spirit at the top. For a while, they just stood there, side by side, gazing at the sparse rays of light that just barely managed to pierce through the soot-plagued firmament.

"How is Rin?" Archer inquired.

Shirou smirked. Of course he'd ask that. There weren't all that many people he gave a damn about. "She's Rin," he said, "She's brilliant. That scheming sort of clever that makes you worry about what she might be plotting and whether you're already her accomplice. Strong. Always trying put up a front in the hopes that no one will realize she cares."

"Does she still stand around with a dumbstruck look on her face when certain people make novice mistakes?"

"Thinking of anyone in particular?"

"Whatever would give you that idea?" the man smirked, not caring whether he was caught in such a blatant lie. "And does she still get flustered by the most benign things?"

"She's been getting better," Shirou insisted.

"She's more or less unshakable," Archer chuckled. "But if what you're suggesting is that she doesn't break out in a cold sweat at the mere thought of using a cellphone, I'll believe that when I see it."

"That's an entirely different subject. But yes, she still has a gift for technology."

They stood together in silence. Most would consider such a situation awkward, but with the two of them it was certainly an improvement to their usual relationship.

Neither of them could tolerate the other. Archer was living proof that Shirou's dream would never bring him peace, while Shirou was an indisputable reminder to Archer that despite the pain it brought him, his path had not been wrong. They were perversions of each other in a way, the boy determined to save everyone, and the man who cursed the fact that he'd tried. Yet, despite their distortions, they were natural extensions of each other, the beautiful beginning and the tragic conclusion of the path of heroism.

Perhaps that was why they were managing to tolerate each other. Though they could never wholly accept each other, they could acknowledge the other's strengths, and through them, both grow stronger. And more importantly, there was their mutual bonds with both Rin and Saber. Even if they might never truly be friends, they were not the mortal adversaries they once were.

Truly, there was tranquility to be had in making peace with yourself.

Still, Shirou doubted he was here by coincidence. He didn't know how long this dream—if that's what it was—would last. So he couldn't afford to waste any more time. He needed to learn everything he could, especially with Ruler's revelation hanging over him.

"Do you know what we're doing right now?" he asked. "About the Great Holy Grail War?"

Archer shrugged. "Bits and pieces. Someone has established a connection of sorts between us. I'm not quite sure of its full capabilities, but I've caught a few glimpses of events through your eyes."

Shirou sighed. "Quite the mess I've gotten us into."

"Probably not as much as you think."

Shirou raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember you as the cocky type. Saber's strong and Rin's smart but we're still massively outnumbered—"

"Not that, you idiot," Archer snapped. "Your situation is as stupidly dire as you think it is. I just mean that much less of this is likely to be your fault than you think."

"What do you mean?" Shirou inquired. "I was the one who agreed to interfere in this war when Zelretch offered. I dragged Tohsaka and Saber into this mess."

Archer rolled his eyes. "Saber could not have been summoned unless she chose to pursue another war, and Rin would have dragged you back by your earlobes if she thought this was too much for you all. Besides, the Kaleidoscope has killed beings you couldn't even comprehend. He's traversed worlds that would atomize you the moment you appeared in them. And despite his childish façade, he would not send the two of you here on a mere whim."

"Really?"

"Okay, he would," Archer conceded. "But despite his apparent irreverence, it's more than likely that he had a greater purpose in mind for sending you to this war. Rin knows that whatever purpose that is, it is likely too important to risk disrupting."

Shirou frowned. "He just said he was bored."

"He probably was. He killed two birds with one stone. Though I'm not sure if it counts if one of the birds intentionally flies headlong into the stone."

Shirou rolled his eyes. "And this?" he raised his right hand, his black Command Seals in full view.

Archer pulled away slightly in distaste as he saw them. "Those…would seem to be the source of our link."

"Do you know what they are?"

"I have seen them across a smattering of timelines. Not very often. Suffice to say, take care not to use all of them. Our unique relationship should make the transformation a bit easier than usual, but I don't know if it will prevent you from being affected by the usual negative side effects."

Shirou glared at his alternate future counterpart. "Are you actually going to tell me what they are?"

Archer smirked, a devilish glint he must have learned from Rin gleaming in his eyes. "Dead Count Shapeshifter Command Spells. Think of them as a power up of sorts. Use them to order your body to become stronger."

"Stronger how?"

The gears of Unlimited Blade Works clanged with the rhythm of a mechanical heart. Like two battleships scraping against each other. The soot filled sky flashed an ethereal white.

Archer grinned. "It seems our time is ending. Just do me a favor. If you have to use a catchphrase, and knowing Zelretch, he'll make you use a catchphrase, at least try to make better than his last pawn's."

Shirou abruptly felt as though he were being tugged away by some invisible hand. He flew through the air, dragged farther and farther away until Archer was just a pinprick on the horizon.

"What are you talking about?" he yelled with all his might. "What do they do exactly? Why do they make a link between us? And why the hell would you care about a catchphrase?"

Even with the titanic distance between them, he somehow heard Archer's snarl. "For Great Justice."

Shirou only had a moment to wonder what the Counter Guardian was talking about before his vision went blank.


FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE

Saber glanced to the sidecar as Shirou awoke, his perplexed gaze seemingly puzzled by the slumbering Rin in his lap.

"For great justice?" he muttered sleepily.

"Shirou, I hadn't realized you were awake."

"I just woke up, I think," he said blearily.

"What was that you were saying a moment ago?"

"I… honestly have no idea, but it sounds compelling and at the same time, terrible."

The party of four was close to Trifas, perhaps only an hour away. Since they couldn't afford to delay any longer and Saber didn't require sleep, she had offered to continue driving the group while the others rested. Thus, she found herself chauffer as Shirou and Rin slept in the sidecar and Ruler draped over her back. The Saint was tied to both Saber and the motorcycle with a collection of rope provided by the last motel's staff, grateful for Shirou's cooking, and reinforced by Rin. So far, it had done well at keeping its passenger from falling off in the face of the brisk breeze of the road.

Saber had expected Ruler to be the first to wake, given her more convoluted position, though Shirou was always one for punctuality even in sleep. But that combined with the unusually grim expression on his face worried the King of Knights.

"Are you alright, Shirou?" Saber inquired.

Shirou took a few deep breaths and nodded. "Yeah. I'm… I'm fine. I just had a weird dream. A vision, I think."

"A vision? Of what?"

"Archer."

Saber's eyes widened. "Did he—"

"No, he didn't attack me again. I think he's over that phase," Shirou assured her. He lifted up his right hand, the one with his strange black Command Seals. "He said these things formed some sort of link between us."

"A link? Does that mean you can summon him to aid us?"

"I'm not sure. But he didn't seem to think so. He called them Dead Count Shapeshifter Command Spells. Apparently, they're supposed to give some sort of power boost."

Saber's eyes narrowed in concern. "You should be careful. The Kaleidoscope's letter said there was a high probability of those seals killing you if you use them all. Not to mention whatever danger Ruler's vision implied."

They had no way of knowing whether the Saint's premonition was literal or metaphorical, but either way, it was not a warning to take lightly. And if Archer would not be making an appearance himself in the Great Holy Grail War, that meant that Shirou was the most likely target of the impending turmoil. The defeat at the hands of this silver-haired man.

Could the vision have been referring to Saber of Black? No. Though his hair was certainly the right color, there wasn't a trace of red in his color scheme as Jeanne's vision described.

It was fortunate. She would hate to have to snuff him out prematurely if he really was the one destined to kill Shirou. Saber had found Siegfried to be a chivalrous and honorable warrior, one who she felt she could duel again with great pleasure and respect. Indeed, even with the conspiracy against Ruler and the titanic danger afoot—not to mention Mordred making Wallachia her stomping grounds—the King of Knights found that her opponents so far had been nothing but the highest caliber, both in skill and character.

It was an exquisite boon. In her past Grail Wars, she had met few whom she looked forward to facing. Merely fiends to be defeated like the Casters and Gilgamesh. The opportunity to have a true battle with Ireland's Child of Light had never arisen and both of her duels with Assassin had been marred by her need to get past him and assist the others.

And in the war before that, there had been Diarmuid and—

No.

She couldn't think about that… that travesty. That horror.

Even now, she did not know what to think of her first Master, Kiritsugu Emiya. Irisviel had believed in him, and even she could see there was truth in his desire to save mankind. When they'd argued over the worth of chivalry, she'd seen that he'd not always been the broken, merciless soul she'd known. He'd been a good man once. A man made to do desperate, monstrous things in pursuit of the beautiful dream he longed for.

She sometimes wondered who had won out in the end: the man or the monster. Had he ordered her to destroy the Grail just to spite her, or had he learned of its corruption and refused the wish of damnation it offered? Gilgamesh's gloating had implied the latter, but when she remembered how far he'd been willing to go, what he did to Diarmuid… she still wondered if it hadn't been too high a price.

There were many reasons she didn't sleep at night.

She glanced over at Shirou, who gazed softly at Rin as she slept.

Saber smiled. How foolish of her. Kiritsugu could not have desired the corruption's birth. No one who capable of raising someone as wonderful as Shirou could have possibly have been so heartless. Kiritsugu destroyed the Holy Grail to save the world. He had destroyed her for a time, but that was a small price to pay and she had healed through her time with Rin and his son.

She often wondered if she should tell Shirou about her experiences with his father, but in the end, she always decided against it. From what she had heard, they had practically known two different men. She did not wish to sully the memory of the savior he knew with the mercilessly pragmatic assassin he once was.

Unless he asked. Then she would be honor bound to tell him all the embarrassing stories. His cigarettes, his romantic talks with Irisviel when they thought she wasn't listening, his adorable playtime with that daughter of his. She wondered whatever had happened to that girl. Suffice to say, Shirou would get a very interesting picture of his father by the time she was done. And she would have her just revenge on her former Master.

The thought brought a wide grin to her face.

"Are you okay? You seem distracted."

"You have nothing to worry about," she smiled.

"Don't worry, Saber. Whatever's coming, I'm sure we can face it together," Shirou declared.

Saber blinked. "What? Oh, yes. Of course, Shirou. I have no doubt."

They continued their drive in silence, thoughts of Kiritsugu swirling around in her head. Perhaps she should have known better than to dwell on the subject…

Kiritsugu seemed intent on using the Holy Grail to save the world. Even if it had offered him some toxic solution to bring about world peace, what could it possibly have shown him, short of omnicide, that would make him abandon it altogether? And yet, did she really have to wonder? She'd seen for herself; that thing coming out of the lake. That… cancerous abomination. And a worse thought occurred to her: As the Grail herself, did that mean that upon becoming it, Irisviel had been twisted into that in some form? Was there more to it at the time than the golden chalice that Gilgamesh had so infuriatingly prevented her from reaching?

Assuming Kiritsugu had somehow witnessed such a thing, it would be entirely possible that he would reject it. But then… how could he have done that? There was no creature during the Fourth War. More importantly though… was that what became of her friend? The price she paid for her precious daughter's life?

What kind of nightmare must Iri have been subjected to in that eternal instant after her death? Had she seen the Grail for what it was before she became it, or was she simply transfigured without any realization that something irreplaceable had been stolen from her? She felt her gorge rise and covered her mouth with one hand, keeping the handlebars steady with the other. This was a bad train of thought. She had to stop this. She would go around in circles, and she knew where that would lead. She took deep breaths. But she was already sweating and wouldn't have been surprised if she looked feverish. And she had only moments ago told Shirou that he had nothing to—

"Saber, what's wrong?!"

Shirou's voice jerked her out of her poisonous reverie. She abruptly realized, looking at the speedometer, that she'd been accelerating dangerously. And keeping steady with only one hand no less! Fine if she were on her own, but with passengers? The sidecar looked just about ready to detach. She quickly took some pressure off the gas pedal and gently applied the brakes.

More deep breaths. But it was futile for her to try and simply stop thinking about it. She had to think of something else. Anything else.

"I…" she stammered, "I'm sorry to have worried you. You could say that I accidentally indulged in a very bad habit without realizing it."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. She already felt guilty.

"It's okay if you can't talk about it right now. Whenever you're ready, Tohsaka and I'll be around to listen."

Saber felt some of her muscles relax. Not entirely, but it was a start. The ill expression she wore slowly gave way to a more neutral one.

"Thank you, Shirou. I assure you, I'll be fine… although, perhaps it might be best if I kept my mind occupied."

"Sure, I guess. Anything you want to talk about?"

They were cruising along at a much safer speed now, and she carefully began to push on the gas again. It was surprising that neither Rin, nor Ruler had woken up. Or if they had, they were doing their best to get back to sleep. To be perfectly honest, Saber had hoped that Shirou might have brought up a topic himself. His response had been a little disappointing. However, feeling Ruler's weight against her back, she remembered something.

"Actually, yes. There was something that I have been wondering since dinner last night," Saber noted. "How did you know so much about that book Ruler had to read? Les Misérables, was it?"

"That? Oh, I've read it before. You could say it used to be one of my favorites when I was younger. After Kiritsugu died and I decided to be a Hero of Justice, I figured I should look into ideas about what justice was," Shirou explained. A happy chuckle escaped his lips. "Fuji-nee was trying to read it back then, but she kept getting frustrated. She wondered why she had to read something in English that was originally written in French."

Saber raised an eyebrow. "I was unaware Taiga could read French."

"Oh, she can't. And she wasn't. The book was in English. But she found it so boring that she had me read it and tell her what happened."

"You read it back then?" Saber recalled the enormous size of the volume Jeanne had been holding. It was nearly as thick as some of Merlin's magic tomes. Or his black book… "How did you read something that size when you were so young? In a language you were unfamiliar with no less?"

"A lot of persistence and an inability to know when to quit? Call me stubborn, I guess. I had to keep one of Fuji-nee's English textbooks on hand to get through it, but after a while, I just got into the story and its ideas." A frown suddenly marred Shirou's face. "I reread it after our war. After Archer."

"Why?"

Shirou shrugged. "I guess… I was a little confused. I knew that being a Hero of Justice, that trying to save everyone, was impossible, but I also knew that it was still an ideal worth striving for. That's enough for me, but sometimes… sometimes I wonder what I would have to sacrifice in order to pursue that dream."

"What do you mean?" Saber inquired. She had never known Shirou to hesitate when it came to his goals. When the chance came to try to save someone, he jumped in without a second thought. He never even considered the cost to himself, at least not during the war. Maybe Rin had been more successful at getting through to him than she thought.

"After the fire, after I sacrificed everything I had to survive, and left everything… everyone… else behind, I didn't think I deserved anything good. A normal life, friends, loved ones, simple things that made life worth living, I didn't feel like I could have that if the people who died that day couldn't."

"Shirou, that's preposterous," Saber declared immediately. "You did not kill those people, the corruption of the Grail did. Surviving that horror is not a crime."

'As the one who destroyed it,' she thought, 'it might even be more appropriate to blame me for that disaster.'

"Yeah. I know that now. What I went through with you and Rin taught me that," Shirou pointed out. His frown didn't go anywhere though. "But that doesn't change the fact that I have so many things as I am right now. I have Rin, my job with Luvia, our life at the Clock Tower. And I'm happy. But I'm not… satisfied. I'm doing what I need to be doing. But I'm not chasing my dream."

"You… you wish to leave the Clock Tower?" Saber asked. She looked down at her Master with concern. "To leave Rin?"

"No!" Shirou responded fervently. "No. I don't ever want to leave Rin. It's just… on the one hand, how can I be a Hero of Justice if I stay safe with her? But on the other, how can I be a good man if I walked out on the woman I love to go save strangers?"

Saber considered these for a moment. "Neither of those are without merit. Though they are also not without fault."

Shirou let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah. That's what I got from the book too. The hero was good and kind to everyone he met, but he was also a criminal on the run from the law. When the policeman pursuing him kept to the law to the letter and devoted himself to justice but found that he was not doing good anymore."

The two friends stewed in silence, the rush of the wind and the snores of their companions serving as their only company.

At last, Saber noted their route to Trifas, and the massive citadel that towered above it, was nearing its end. "We should rouse the others. We'll be at Trifas soon and I don't think they would like to be rudely awakened."

"Right." Shirou made to wake Rin, then paused. "Saber, what you mean by 'rudely awakened?'"

"I will be approaching the castle through the forest," Saber explained. "Even if the Black Faction may be discouraged from firing on us with Ruler present, I'd rather not give them the opportunity to catch us on the road."

Shirou appeared to give this some thought. He looked up at her with an uneasy expression.

"I mean, I get where you're coming from, but… yeah… I can see why you'd want everyone to be awake for this."

She nodded, feeling Ruler shift slightly behind her as Shirou gently shook Rin by the shoulder.

"Rin, time to wake up," he called softly.

"Nnngh… are we there already?" she mumbled.

A nervous chuckle. "Not quite, but you definitely want to wake up."

"Why?" she asked, suddenly alert and looking around. "We look like we're still in the middle of nowhere."

Saber unfastened the rope tying Ruler securely into place behind her. The other Servant blinked, rubbing her eyes and arching her back.

"Can I trust that you can keep pace with me on foot now that you've gotten some rest?" Saber asked.

Ruler nodded. "Is there a reason for us all being woken up at this time?" she inquired.

"Indeed. We will be making our final approach using these trees as cover. As I told Shirou moments ago, I intend to give them a less viable opportunity to spot us before we engage them."

Rin gave her the same worried look that Shirou had given her a minute earlier.

"Okay, I guess… I mean… you've got a stellar rank on your Riding ability, so I guess this shouldn't be a problem?"

Saber smiled reassuringly at her master. She had failed Diarmuid and Lancelot in the Fourth War, and she'd barely succeeded in the Fifth. Even with Shirou's dilemma, she couldn't allow such disreputable fates to befall any of her allies in this Great War, especially not her Masters.

Her friends.

And of course, she wanted to see what her bike could do off-road. It was sure to be great fun for all!

"Please take care to hold on tightly," said Saber, grinning as she maneuvered the machine so that the front wheel and those of the sidecar were off the pavement. An absurd task for a regular human, but for one with her strength, not nearly as much.

Rin gripped the front of the sidecar. Off at their side, Ruler took a stance as she prepared to break into a dash beside them.

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and…

The engine rumbled as she accelerated, a spray of dirt flying out from the front wheel as it found traction on the softer ground. Yes, she expected she could go a bit faster until they reached the tree line.

For a moment, she thought Rin might have said something.

It was probably her imagination.


FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE

"Hey, Missy?"

"What, Rider?"

"I'm bored."

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you invited yourself on this mission. My mission, I might add."

Achilles sighed. You know, on paper, this whole Great Holy Grail War had seemed like a fantastic idea. He'd get to come back to life, see the modern world, fight a menagerie of worthy opponents, and maybe even achieve his dream of being a hero that he'd failed to be in life when he'd fallen into wrathful vengeance after Patroclus' death. What he'd done to the Prince of Troy afterward, desecrating his body as he had, was unforgivable. His only hope was that fate gave him a chance to earn redemption in this new life.

And at first, it seemed like everything was going smoothly. Sure, Caster was a tad grating, and he wasn't sure if Berserker knew how to get through ten minutes without raving about defeating 'the oppressor,' whoever or whatever he meant by that… but that was a complete nonfactor compared to his Archer teammate.

He got to work with Atalanta. The Atalanta! The Chaste Huntress herself! His father had raised him on stories of his adventures with the Argonauts, and there were none save maybe Hercules that Peleus spoke of in more glowing terms. And the follow-up tale about their reunion during the hunt for the Calydonian Boar was even more incredible, with Atalanta being the first among dozens of mighty heroes to wound the nearly invincible beast, crucially wounding it before it was slain.

When he was a boy, before he'd been sent off to his teacher—and a few more times after that, if he was being honest—he'd played pretend that he was teaming up with his heroes, going on grand quests against monsters and saving innocents. Now, his dream was coming true in the best way possible. He felt like a kid again.

All the more reason to rein himself in. He didn't want to agitate present company.

Plus, Atalanta was ten times more beautiful than even his father's glorious descriptions. Maybe if he was lucky and persisted with his flirting, he could get a kiss from his hero before the war was over.

That being said, she was pretty high strung. And from what he knew about her relationship with men, as a collective, she was going to make that a positively herculean challenge.

Challenge accepted!

But there was also that problem. As soon as he was summoned, something was already not as it should have been. His Master, whoever he was, hadn't even been present when he'd appeared. Instead, all he got was a mental command that told him to take orders from Assassin of Red's Master, the priest, Shirou Kotomine. And that guy was just… off. He had no idea why he didn't trust the white-haired man—not yet—but the way he was holding him back from engaging the Black Faction wasn't winning him any points.

Hell, he was so bored that he'd nearly thanked the gods when Caster goaded Berserker into going on a rampage. Though Archer had been the one ordered to go after the maddened gladiator before he messed everything up, there was no way Achilles was going to miss an opportunity to both hang out with the lauded Huntress of Arcadia and maybe get to see some action while he was at it.

Unfortunately, Berserker of Red had quickly been overwhelmed by Rider, Caster, and Lancer of Black. That last one especially. Vlad the Impaler certainly lived up to his name. Spartacus had barely had time to move, much less attack once the King of Romania arrived and skewered him, with Caster sealing him in some sort of golem. Rider had retreated back to Millennia Citadel, but Lancer had remained to guard Caster and three of the Black masters while they did something to Berserker. Mages… always making everything so complicated…

Personally, he wanted to charge in and rescue their comrade, but Archer had convinced him otherwise. Outnumbered as they were, engaging a foe as powerful as Lancer of Black was unjustifiably reckless. Sure, he would be fine unless the King of Romania figured out to aim for his heel, but Archer didn't share his protection. She was incredible in her own ways but engaging a group that strong on their home turf, especially when their most dangerous opponent got an intense boost in strength just for being there was a fool's errand. As a huntress, Atalanta knew how to gauge the strength of her mark, so if she called for a retreat, he'd trust her judgment.

Besides, it wasn't as if he wouldn't still get to deal with their pursuers.

He had branched off from Atalanta and waited for the Servants of Black to come after him, letting his partner get as much distance from them as possible. She was a perfectly capable combatant, but if they had to choose between their foes attacking her, with her rather negligible endurance, or him, with his slight advantage of being literally invincible, the choice was obvious.

Finding a small, but suitable clearing, he'd stopped running and leaned up against a tree, whistling absently. Now if only those enemy Servants weren't taking so damn long to reach him.

A scattering of blue sparks caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He smirked. What was that modern saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?

He turned towards his opponents, a tall knight in hulking gray armor and… some girl in a wedding dress with hubcaps sticking out of the sides of her head? Huh, that was a new one. But he was trained by a horse-man, so who was he to judge, really?

He twirled his spear at his side. "Hey there, you two! Let's see, a Saber and a Berserker, huh?" His fingers flexed against his weapon, a familiar sensation of bloodlust welling up inside him in anticipation of the imminent clash.

Still… "Well now, seems like I'm being underestimated. Did they really think two Servants would be enough?" a savage grin spread across his face. "I can't help but be a bit insulted!"

His opponents raised their weapons, a gigantic greatsword in the Saber's case and a strangely designed mace for the Berserker.

Achilles aimed his spear at them. "My class is Rider. But don't worry, I won't use a chariot. I hardly need it with only two of you here," he boasted. "Are you both prepared? I'll show you what it means to be a true warrior."

Saber of Black charged him then. He met the knight in the middle of the clearing. His spear darted towards the larger man, but he skillfully parried every stab. His strength was even sufficient to push Achilles back for a moment. Both of them were focused on attacking, to the point that their attacks weren't so much being blocked so much as they as they were crashing into each other. He found himself laughing with exhilaration; this Servant was truly worthy of being a member of the strongest class.

The Hero of Troy was thrilled. That just meant he had to hold back even less to make it an entertaining fight.

He dashed back in with more of his famous speed, mixing in some of teacher's Pankration with his bladework. Berserker of Black charged in to catch him flatfooted and swung her mace at Achilles' head. Very slowly. He had more than enough time to dish out a flurry of swift strikes as she approached, quickly overwhelming Saber of Black's defenses and pushing him back, though Achilles noted that his hits didn't seem to be doing any damage.

Truth be told, Berserker's attack wasn't actually particularly slow. She was still a Servant, meaning her strike was coming at him with enough speed to shatter a boulder. It was just that he was used to spotting attacks a whole lot faster. He dodged. Too quickly. From her perspective, it would have been almost as though he had dodged her attack before she even swung. If that was the best that bride could do, it wasn't even worth his time to drag out the fight. Was she even a Berserker? If this was her speed after having her stats boosted by Madness Enhancement, how in the world did she even qualify as a Heroic Spirit in the first place? It was as though this Berserker was only a Berserker because her stats wouldn't even qualify as a Servant's without the boost.

Still, toying with her would be an insult to them both. This was going to be difficult. Like, Teacher's twenty-four-hour arrow dodging course difficult. Now, how to make it look like he wasn't making fun of the poor girl?

She came in with another swing. He ducked under her attack, slowly, and kicked her aside, jetting in as though to finish off the mad Servant.

Saber of Black took issue with that. He rushed behind Rider, taking advantage of the Greek's blind spot to get close, and swung his sword in a heavy arc.

Unfortunately for him, his teacher's training had covered using all the senses, not just the eyes. Achilles felt the rush of the wind from Saber's charge brush across the back of his neck and he whirled around, catching the knight's wrist as he was winding up for another slash with his sword.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunted. "You're nowhere near qualified to fight against me!"

With a victorious smirk, Achilles stabbed his spear into Saber's shoulder with all his strength.

And it did absolutely nothing.

The Rider took half a moment to be surprised, which had the unfortunate side effect of allowing Saber to break free, immediately taking a swipe at him once he did, forcing him to retreat a bit to reevaluate his opponent.

His attack hadn't been weakened, it just hadn't even scratched Saber's armor. Now that was impressive. A similar technique to his own invincibility no doubt, though likely not as powerful. Still, if he and the knight before him were anything alike, and their brief clash had made it quite clear that they were, then he would be praying to meet someone who could hurt him regardless.

After all, that's what he did every night. Shame they couldn't give each other the kind of thrill they were both seeking; the rush that came from knowing that your life could end at any moment—that the only things between you and the end were your skill, a thin layer of armor, and a bit of luck.

"I see you take pride in endurance as well," Achilles remarked. "Looks like we're in for a long fight."

'Rider, prevent Saber of Black from moving,' Atalanta ordered. 'He's immune to your strength. But there's nothing my arrows can't pierce.'

Achilles chuckled. Missy wanted to test the limits of Saber of Black's invincibility. Smart move. While his brute strength couldn't break through, her fully drawn arrows actually had more bite to them than he could manage to dish out on his own. It would be good to know if they would be sufficient or if they would need Lancer to break out that god killer of his for this guy.

He heard Berserker of Black before he saw her as she staggered back to her feet. She snarled at the Hero of Troy, though whether for her fall or for being disregarded afterward, he couldn't say.

Saber however, remained completely stone faced, not a hint of joy, anger, or any emotion playing across his body. He was an experienced warrior alright. Perhaps too experienced.

Achilles shrugged. If he was keeping the guy distracted, no reason why he couldn't offer some advice. "Those who don't laugh on the battlefield may forget how to when they reach Elysium," he warned. "So, try to laugh a little before you die."

Saber lowered his head for a moment, seeming to contemplate his suggestion. "Laughing on the battlefield could be seen as an insult to the opponent."

For the love of the gods, it was like Odysseus all over again. All grim and serious. You know, for the craftiest trickster Achilles ever met, that guy really should have had more fun. Maybe pranked someone now and again. It wasn't like anything really bad ever happened to the guy. Though now that he thought about it, he really did have to get around to looking up what happened to his old war buddies after he died.

But that was business for later. Right now, he needed to help Saber of Black. And then kill him, naturally.

"That's true," he conceded. "But it can also lead to salvation."

Something whistled past his ear in an explosion of turquoise light.

Saber's steely eyes widened as the arrow drove clear through his shoulder, and he skidded backward as its momentum carried him along with it. He grunted as he smashed into a wide tree trunk, into which the arrow had lodged itself.

The important thing though was that Saber was bleeding and had both an entry and an exit wound.

Achilles smirked. Not so invulnerable after all. While he hadn't been torn in half like most would when struck by that kind of attack, he had still been wounded. That meant Achilles could take him easily, he'd just need to bust out his shield. Though it was too early in the war to use his strongest Noble Phantasm. While Saber of Black was certainly a worthy opponent to face the divine construct, if he used it so soon and revealed his true identity, every idiot in the entire war would know his weakness, to say nothing of how he'd be laughably easy prey for Vlad the Impaler.

"A focused attack from Missy worked perfectly, as expected."

Berserker of Black hefted her mace and snarled at him.

Achilles leveled his spear. "Since our side just lost its Berserker, seems only fair that you lose yours as well. Isn't that right?"

His comment was not taken lightly. Berserker of Black roared, the head of her mace opening up to reveal some form of mechanical chamber. A tempest of emerald electricity coalesced around the bride, sparking off her weapon in random bolts of lightning, each one powerful enough to horde of mortal men.

Achilles feigned interest.

Suddenly Saber stepped forward, forcing himself to move. He pulled himself away from the tree, the arrow tearing at his flesh with each step until it came free of the bark. His actions seemed strangely involuntary, but that was none of Rider's concern. Having freed himself, he raised his sword to the sky. A gem on the hilt glowed, and a tower of blazing pale blue energy erupted from the blade.

Achilles grinned. "Heh! Just try it. Show me your Noble Phantasm!"

This was a fortuitous turn of events. While Saber's strike would no doubt be powerful, his sword's inability to harm the Hero of Troy made it moot. All his attack would do would force him to reveal the name of his weapon, and by extension, his own True Name. Maybe the priest wouldn't get on their case too much for losing Berserker if they brought back such valuable intel on the enemy's second strongest Servant.

Saber's face contorted with effort, furious sweat dripping down his brow. He resisted every inch his sword rose. He must have already deduced that his weapon couldn't harm Rider of Red. His master was likely less observant and was forcing him to use his Noble Phantasm with a Command Seal, a theory which could be supported by his jerky, forced movement.

What a shame. Still, half of war was taking advantage of the enemy general's stupidity. In the end, every Servant was a foot soldier, for good or ill. A shadow of the dead to be commanded by the living.

Saber's lips opened involuntarily. "Bal—"

The turquoise glow of the greatsword suddenly extinguished. Saber of Black sagged in relief, staggering to his knees. A few moments later, he disappeared in a shower of sapphire sparks.

Achilles sighed. "How disappointing," he remarked to Berserker of Black. "He may have been able to put a scratch on me with a godslaying Noble Phantasm like that."

Not realistically speaking, of course. But it was better they think he was just cocky instead of giving them a possible hint to his identity.

"Now, where were we?"

Berserker of Black snarled at him, her weapon at the ready. It was valiant. Even through her madness, she must have known she didn't have a chance, yet she was ready to continue fighting until she drew her last breath. Whatever she was, maybe it was that dauntless spirit rather than her skill as a warrior that marked her as worthy of the title of hero.

Pity. That wasn't nearly enough to actually give him a good fight. Granted, with his invincibility, what could?

An arrow streaked through the sky and smashed into his armor, penetrating all the way to his flesh.

And… into his flesh?

"What?"

Berserker of Black took advantage of his momentary distraction and charged past him, howling at the trees.

Achilles paid her no heed. The Berserker might have been wearing a wedding dress, but she was still a beast. Or put another way, whatever else she might have been, to Atalanta, she was little more than prey. She could handle a few lightning bolts and poorly aimed swipes from a ball on a stick. For now, he needed to focus all his attention on his new assailant.

A hail of arrows came plummeting down on him. He twirled his spear and deflected most of them, though a few still managed to scratch him. That proved that the last shot hadn't been a fluke. His opponent could bypass his invincibility. That meant that his bow or his arrows were divine constructs, much like Lancer of Red's armor and spear. Either that or the Archer himself had the blood of a god in his veins. And to fire his shots with such accuracy into a dense forest from so far away…

Achilles' heart soared. This was the kind of opponent he was looking for! He had no doubt that Archer of Black would make for a magnificent rival in this Great Holy Grail War.

Now if only he knew his name…


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Chiron wasted no time loading another volley of arrows into his bow. His old student had grown a great deal since he last saw him, birthed a vast legend of his own, and he had not been weak in training. If he let up for even a moment, he had no doubt Achilles would rush back to his ally's defense and eliminate Berserker. He'd saved Frankenstein from one of the other Archer's assaults already, but for now, she would have to deal with the second Servant of Red on her own.

It had been quite fortunate he'd recognized the Hero of Troy when he did. Had he been even a moment slower, Saber would have revealed his identity to the enemy. He'd alerted Lord Darnic to the futility of Siegfried's Noble Phantasm just before it had activated, and the leader of the Masters of Black had been able to cow Lord Gordes into canceling the order. It had cost two strokes of his Command Seal, an undoubtedly heavy price, but it was better than the enemy learning Saber's identity and knowing exactly where to aim to bypass his Armor of Fafnir.

The dragonslayer had been recalled immediately and Chiron had stepped forward to provide cover for Berserker from the castle battlements. Being the son of the Titan King Kronos, he was, for all intents and purposes, a brother to the Olympians. He might not qualify as a divine spirit, but his inherent Divinity trait was more than enough to break through Achilles' invincibility. He pinned down his old student easily enough, he had taught him his evasive maneuvers after all. He had a few new dodges and rolls, but nothing the teacher couldn't figure out quickly enough.

Eventually, he learned from Caster's familiars that Archer of Red had retreated. Soon enough, he saw Achilles whistle and a shower of emerald lightning erupted next to the Hero of Troy. The boy's mighty chariot emerged from the glow, pulled by a trio of mighty stallions, two of which Chiron sensed were as divine as their master.

"Isn't this wonderful, Archer of Black?" Achilles cheered. "Fighting against one who could best me was destined! Oh, Gods of Olympus, may you grant the both of us glory and sacred honor in this battle!"

He hopped onto the chariot and jetted away into the sky. "Let us settle this challenge next time! Perhaps then I'll get to see your face!"

Chiron kept his aim up until he was sure the Servants of Red had truly fled He noted a silver streak heading into the forest but it disappeared into the trees before he could track it. He'd have to alert Caster later and have him send out some familiars to look for it.

At last, he sighed, his shoulders sagging in relief.

'Isn't it ironic, Achilles? Destiny will even bare its fangs at those like us, who are already dead.'

They were beings whose threads Atropos had already cut. The Fates had no interest in them any longer. Yet it was already predetermined that he would have to be the one to face his former pupil. After all, no one else in the Black Faction would capable of taking on Achilles in a straight fight as long as he retained his invincibility. If Vlad knew where to aim, it was possible that he could hit his heel and deactivate the protection, but that would be easier said than done even for the King of Romania. And assuming that was somehow accomplished, Achilles was still perhaps the finest warrior he'd ever trained, surpassed only by Heracles himself.

No, this was his responsibility. He loved Achilles like a son, but there was no place for sentimentality in a Holy Grail War. They were Servants, and that title was a literal one. Their first loyalty, above all, was to their Masters, and by extension, their Faction. He was willing to stretch that duty for Astolfo and the homunculus boy, but he could not in good conscience refuse to fight his old student for Lady Fiore.

"Are you feeling okay, Chiron?"

A kind voice cut through Chiron's inner turmoil. He turned to face his Master and gifted Fiore a gentle smile. "Yes. It seems that the opponent I will be facing in this Great Holy Grail War has been determined."

His Master was a kind soul. Though her wish might have sounded selfish from an outside perspective, to walk on her own two feet without having to give up her magic circuits, he found that simple desire endearing. She had shown him nothing but respect and kindness since he was summoned, and he was grateful to fight the War at the side of a mage with a conscience. He'd even trusted her enough to disclose his own, similarly selfish wish: The reclamation of his immortality. While it might have appeared as though he were grasping at a life he'd given up of his own free will, in truth he did not regret that he had died. Rather that he had forsaken the only gift his parents had ever given him. For that, and for his master's happiness, he would endure any trial.

He would deal with his old student when the time came. Until then, he would rest and indulge himself in some warm tea. That would soothe his mind and allow him to focus on the long-term strategy of the war, a matter that required his utmost attention and skill.

"To all Masters of Yggdmillenia!" Darnic's voice rang through the Servant's mind. "Rider is aiding in the escape of a homunculus. One that is very valuable to us. Make sure to bring him back alive."

Chiron could only sigh as the voice subsided.

'Astolfo…'


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Step One! Heal the homunculus!

Step One-and-a-half! Realize that he, Astolfo, had the healing aptitude of a blender!

Step One-and-three-quarters! Bring the homunculus to Chiron so that he could heal the homunculus!

Step Two! Get the homunculus out of range of Caster's bounded field and release him into the great, wide, wonderful world where he could frolic across grassy hills to his heart's content!

Hmm… it suddenly occurred to him that his brilliant plan might have been missing a step…

Of course! How could he have forgotten?

He needed the homunculus to choose a name! 'Cause it'd totally feel weird to keep calling him 'the homunculus'. Gosh, that'd be demeaning.

The two of them dashed through the forest as fast as they could. Well, he did. The homunculus (real name TBD) mostly just stumbled forward with every step. Whenever he tripped, which was often, he would allow himself to be dragged along by the arm until he regained his footing without even voicing a complaint. Kind of creepy. Maybe homunculi didn't get friction burns?

The boy was desperately trying to keep a hold of the sword Astolfo had given him to protect himself. Before long, he noticed the poor kid was panting heavily. He came to a stop, letting the homunculus catch his breath.

"What's wrong?" he inquired worriedly. "Are you tired?"

"Is it… really alright for me to escape?" the boy asked between hungry breaths. His eyes held nothing but confusion. It had always been there, but Rider hadn't missed how it had really kicked into overdrive after they ran past a group of injured homunculi on their way out of the castle. Poor thing was probably questioning why he got to leave when all the others who were like him, even the ones who got hurt fighting that whacko Berserker of Red, had to stay.

Still, that didn't make it wrong for him to want his own freedom, so he answered immediately. "Of course, it's alright!"

The homunculus turned his head to the side, unconvinced. "Yeah, but… even if I do, I'm just going to die in three years. I can't make any difference in the world or even leave a footprint behind. If I were to continue to live, would there be any point?"

Rider cocked an eyebrow. "Are you saying you think you're not allowed to continue living in this world?"

"I just don't know," the homunculus muttered. "I don't know… anything."

Astolfo gave the poor boy his most kind and gentle smile. "You're not obligated to do any of that. Making a difference, dedicating yourself to someone, you do those 'cause you wanna!" He raised his arms, and continued pontificating, "You don't need a purpose; wanting to live is human nature! As long as your heart keeps beating, you should continue wanting to live from here on out!"

"I should continue… wanting to live?"

Oh, it was adorable how he repeated everything that was just said to him! It was less adorable that by his logic from a few moments ago, half the people on earth should just lay down and stop moving until they die, but hey, nobody's perfect.

Rider nodded his confirmation to the query. He had never sought out to be a hero when he began as an adventurer. He just went around having fun, helping people along the way, doing whatever he felt was best. And when he met Charlemagne, well, his path was set. Everything else just fell into place. He would have followed that man anywhere, even to the moon! Speaking of which, he should really look into making another visit there when he got the chance, that place was totally awesome!

"Um…Rider…"

Astolfo turned his head and followed his homunculus friend's gaze and saw a dozen of Caster's massive golems lumbering towards them.

The Paladin of Charlemagne conjured Trap of Argalia. "You sure are a popular guy."


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Siegfried hadn't had the best day.

True, there was nothing he could really complain about, but everything he'd been doing had been rather draining. After his magnificent duel with Lancer of Red and Saber of Periwinkle, he'd had high hopes for the Great Holy Grail War. He had not felt the exhilaration of facing someone strong enough to hurt him since he'd bathed in Fafnir's blood all those years ago. To encounter not just one, but two foes of such astounding skill was a blessing handed down by the gods. The joy he gained from their titanic clash was nearly enough to relieve him of his concern over the truth of his wish, at least for a moment.

He simply didn't know what he wanted. He must have had a reason for joining the war, some desire that allowed the Grail to call him from the Throne of Heroes. But for the life of him, he just couldn't remember what his wish was. And he needed to remember as soon as possible. Not just for his own peace of mind, but because his master's inability to understand his motivation was putting a significant strain on their relationship. Though Gordes' order for him to remain silent (which he shamefully could not keep to during his battle with Karna and Saber of Periwinkle) did not help matters, but it was ultimately a symptom of the problem, not the cause. It was his responsibility to soothe that illness before another near-disaster like his duel with Rider of Red occurred.

Gordes was quite distressed about Lord Darnic's chastisement for that affair, so much so that he threw a glass at him when Siegfried arrived back in his master's private quarters. The man had collapsed into an armchair, nearly in tears. He would have done what he could to help his Master cope, he'd been unsettled ever since his loss to the warrior of Periwinkle, but he could not speak without violating the mage's prior command, something that he knew would only aggravate the poor man.

So he was trapped, unable to help his Master without disobeying him. A failure of a Servant. He was almost relived when the order came down to track down Rider and the homunculus he'd taken. That at least, he knew he could do.

The two of them ran through the woods, guided by a group of Caster's clay pigeon familiars. The rest of the faction was busy securing the captive Berserker of Red, but they would not be far behind. It was his and his master's responsibility to detain Rider until the others arrived.

When they arrived, Astolfo was surrounded by the scattered rubble of a group of Caster's golems, his lance lazily swung over his shoulder. Beside him, the young homunculus boy was bent over, keeping himself upright by pushing against his knees.

"Now then," Rider proclaimed, his back to the new arrivals. "Why don't we take a little break?"

Siegfried waited for Rider to notice his presence. It didn't take long for Astolfo to realize something was amiss and whirl around.

"Wait, Saber?!"

The homunculus's gaze followed Rider's, his eyes wide with astonishment and fright.

He found he didn't particularly like having that look directed at him.

"I've found you!" Gordes cursed, panting heavily as he arrived on the scene. "Dammit… How dare they make me do such a stupid errand?"

Rider grimaced, a line of sweat dropping down his brow. "Hey, uh… You should run."

The boy didn't move.

"Saber!" Gordes commanded. "Hold Rider down!"

"What are you waiting for?" Rider questioned his young charge, "Hurry!"

Again, the homunculus remained motionless, his crimson eyes locked onto Siegfried. So he had a front row seat when the Saber charged Astolfo, slamming Balmung into the paladin's lance with enough strength to keep him pinned, though not enough to overpower him.

"Rider!" the boy called out in concern.

"I said run!" Astolfo demanded, his voice strained as he struggled to hold his own against the heavier, but far more effective weapon. "You want to live, don't you? So go! Get out! Now!"

Those words shocked the homunculus out of his stupor. The boy hugged a sheathed sword to his chest like a child would hold their favorite blanket and dashed off into the forest.

"Seriously?" Gordes complained as he gave chase. "How annoying!"

That left only Siegfried and Rider in the clearing, their blades locked in combat. They did not remain so for long.

Valiant as he was, Astolfo simply could not stand up against Siegfried's raw power and expertise, especially when the paladin wielded a weapon meant for mounted combat on foot. Before long, Saber held Balmung at his disarmed ally's throat.

Even flat on his back however, Astolfo was far from quiet. "Get out of my way, you idiot! I'm going to save him, no matter what!"

"For what reason?" Siegfried inquired. "Because he came to you and begged for help?"

That was the reason he had saved many during his life. After it became known that he was invincible, everyone wanted his help. After all, if it wouldn't hurt him to do it, what had they to fear by asking? So, he'd done as he was bid, even when he was asked to perform deeds of questionable morality. If one gave their life to the whims of others, to the ideals of justice, that was the only path.

But even then, he still felt there was something in his life that was unfulfilled, the reason he accepted the Grail's call. Why was he dissatisfied with his path?

"NO!"

Siegfried's eyes widened as his attention was drawn back to Astolfo's defiant stare.

"It was something I decided of my own volition!" the paladin shouted. "Is it forbidden for a Servant to want to save someone? Are you telling me to just forget the benevolence, pride, and justice that I had in my lifetime? I'm one of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne! I'm Astolfo! I will not abandon him! I swore that I wouldn't!"

Siegfried… paused. He closed his eyes and retracted his sword. He felt more than heard Rider gasp at his actions.

The idea… saving someone because he wanted to. Not because someone else asked him to.

Yes. That was it.

"I remember my wish now…" he said. It didn't matter that no one was there to hear him say it.

The two of them raced off in the direction the others had went. What they found… was less than ideal.

Gordes was standing before a thick tree. His right arm and sleeve were badly blackened, and his entire body was shaking with shock.

And the homunculus was on the ground before the tree, eyes closed and unmoving, a thin trail of blood trickling down his face.

Rider rushed past the Master of Black and knelt by the boy's side. "It's you. Come on, it's time to wake up," he squeezed the boy's shoulder, "Hey, answer me! Come on, wake up!"

Siegfried went over to Gordes. "Master…"

The mage whirled around, his face panicked and his eyes wide with terror. "Had I not used my altered arm, he would have killed me for sure! It was self-defense! I'm not at fault here!"

Astolfo cried over the dying boy. "I'm sorry. I got here too late. This is my fault…" he continued apologizing over and over, the words 'I'm sorry,' becoming a mantra.

The wails of suffering innocents, the selfish yet blameless masses, begging him to solve their personal problems. Defeat the bandits in the mountains, bring this man's son home, avenge this woman's betrothed, slay a man to satisfy another's envy, find the herbs the apothecary needed to heal a boy's ailing father… they all melded together in an overwhelming cacophony of wishes. It was the final straw, not that it was needed.

"Master, are you able to do anything to heal that homunculus?" Siegfried inquired, receiving a grunt of incredulity from his Master. "I want to save that boy."

"What the hell are you on about, Saber?" Gordes raved, spittle flying from his mouth as his temper boiled over. "I didn't ask for your opinion, did I, you worthless Servant?! The only thing that you need to do is shut up and listen to my orders–uh…—"

Siegfried stepped into his master's personal space. The shorter man trembled, realizing for what may have been the first time just how much taller his Servant was than him.

"So, you won't save him?" Saber asked.

"I told you to shut upPFFFT—!"

With an almost casual nonchalance, Siegfried rammed his fist into his Master's gut, and the man passed out. He carefully caught his Master and laid him down on a patch of grass. His Master was far too stressed and plagued with guilt. Normally, he would try to console him or otherwise help him through it, but they simply didn't have the time. The homunculus was fading fast.

"What are you doing?" Rider muttered, his tear stained eyes wide with confusion.

"I have once again lost sight of my path," Siegfried explained. "He wished nothing of me, yet I nearly abandoned him. I stopped thinking for myself, and let others decide for me. I may be responsible for any misfortune he encounters, but… there is still something that I would like to present to him."

He needed to do this. It was going to be agonizing but needed to save him. Not because he was asked to. But because he didn't want this young boy to die before he had a chance to live. Against the endless possibilities of that, what did the sparse extra time of a person who'd already lived his life matter?

He took a moment to steady himself, to prepare for the pain. Then, he plunged his hand into his chest.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything he had ever been subjected to during his lifetime. His own legend of dragon slaying clawed through his dragon enhanced armor and muscles. His body screamed in agony at the paradox. But he did not stop. He needed to save him. He needed to give the boy a chance.

With a final gasp, he tore his own heart from his chest.

That's when the motorcycle crashed into the clearing.


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Rin was seriously starting to regret choosing a motorcycle for their group's transportation.

It wasn't that Saber was a bad driver, it was that she was way too good a driver. And she knew it. The idea of racing down the highway at six times the speed limit and going off-roading through the Trifas forests didn't frighten her one bit, since she could handle it with ease. They only widened the smile on her face.

Unfortunately, no matter how expertly it was done, navigating at a not-so-insignificant speed through the bumpy maze of roots and hills was still hell on Rin's stomach.

She stumbled out of the side car and panted in the forest clearing. "Yeah, like I said right from the get-go, I regret that I ever agreed to that!"

"My apologies, Master," Saber bowed. "I merely wished for us to reach the location specified by Ruler's vision as quickly and safely as possible. We can rest a moment before continuing."

Rin winced, but she had to agree that Saber was making the right decision here. Whatever chaos came from driving through the forest, it was better than the alternative of approaching Trifas from the road and being wide open for the Black Faction's long-range defenses.

"Um, guys?"

"What is it, Shirou?"

"Ruler. Saber of Periwinkle."

Rin recognized the voice immediately, mostly because she didn't despise the fact that he'd called them their former color. She whirled around to where Shirou had pointed before. Her eyes widened.

Saber of Black stood over his unconscious Master, and there, glowing in his hand, was that his Master's—?! Rin felt a chill go up her spine as she realized that he hadn't killed his Master. The only one among the players on this stage with a hole in their chest was Siegfried himself. Meaning…

"He… tore out his own heart?!" she shuddered.

Indeed, Siegfried held his own still beating heart, glowing crimson in his right hand. Across from him, an unconscious, wounded boy was leaned against a tree trunk, supported by a… girl? Boy? They had a long braid of pink hair, but Rin didn't see any curves. It was still an even chance for either gender, but she'd go with guy until she got confirmation one way or the other.

But this person's gender ambiguity, as fascinating as it had the potential to be, was not important right now. Back to the more pertinent and immediate issue of why Saber of Black had apparently gouged out his own heart.

"Saber of Black, what are you doing?" Saber demanded, horror on her lips.

Siegfried merely smiled, though it was obvious it was a feeble attempt at concealing immense pain. "That boy is a homunculus that wishes to live his own life. I wish to give him that chance."

The knight staunchly strode over to the injured boy, kneeled down, and plunged his heart into the boy's chest, shifting it into spirit form as it went so as to not destroy the child's body.

"He's… sacrificing his life for him…" Ruler murmured.

Shirou clenched one hand into a fist.

"He's saving him," Shirou muttered.

Saber gaped at Siegfried, shock, awe, and disbelief sharing her visage in equal measure.

"Master, he may be a Servant, but nevertheless, without his heart…"

"He'll die," Rin noted, keeping her tone even.

She should have been thrilled. Saber of Black was a dangerous opponent, possibly the greatest threat to Saber in the entire war. And here he was, killing himself for them. But he wasn't doing it for them. He was doing it to save a child, a homunculus no less, and one he didn't even know based off his vague description of him. He was dying because his life could purchase that of another.

He was dying to be a hero.

Rin recalled the events at Einzbern Manor from their war. Where Illya, another child, another homunculus, was butchered simply for her place in the Holy Grail War. How Shirou, brainless fool that he was, was still willing throw his life away to try and save her, or at least avenge her, even if he knew he didn't stand a chance in hell of succeeding.

And here she was, watching another brainless fool die to save someone. Only this time, she hadn't been there to hold this one down, not that she could have stopped a Servant anyway.

She could practically hear Archer shouting, 'That idiot!'

The homunculus boy's chest flashed a strange turquoise glow, similar in color to Siegfried's arcane 'scar,' his body just barely containing the light. Seeing this, Rin realized that the only reason the heart transplant hadn't had the exact opposite effect from the one Siegfried intended was because this boy was a homunculus. Having a heroic spirit's heart forced into one's body was more than enough to kill a normal human, their spirits unable to accommodate the original host's history with the vast legend of the invader.

Rin was all set to write it off as a stroke of brazen luck, except then she noticed what else had appeared on his body. There on the back of his right hand, in a shape reminiscent of a dragon, were…

"Black Command Seals…" Shirou muttered in trepidation.

The pink-haired boy gazed at the homunculus in disbelief before whipping his head around to face Siegfried. "But what'll happen to you?"

Saber of Black smiled. He staggered back and took a seat on a nearby pile of rocks.

"One life is sacrificed to save another. That is an equivalent exchange," Siegfried dourly noted. "Quite fair, is it not, Rider?"

"No, it's not," the pink haired boy, presumably Rider of Black, retorted.

"Why would you do such a thing?" Ruler whispered.

Siegfried grinned at her and Saber. "I wanted to be able to fulfill my own wish, instead of only allowing myself to grant the wishes of others. Perhaps it was extremely self-centered of me, but I could not rid myself of this desire: If only once, I wanted to save someone of my own will, to be able to experience that pride. Even if no one begged me to. Even if my efforts were unwanted. This is all I have been wishing to do for such a long time."

"You did it," Shirou assured the dragon slayer, not sure whether to look sympathetic or critical of the man's selfless yet thoroughly irrational actions. "You… definitely saved him." Rin could tell from the way he stared at the homunculus's hand that he had intentionally decided not to mention what else he may have done to the boy.

"Yes, you did," Saber concurred. She stepped forward, her face set in a mask of stern determination. "Which means—"

"Rider," Siegfried interrupted, "relay this to my Master, 'I'm sorry. I was not worthy of being your Servant in the end.'"

Rider nearly gaped but managed to answer even as Arturia seethed with sheer bafflement.

"What are you saying—that's not true at all! It's not!"

"Have you taken complete leave of your senses, Siegfried?!"

"My apologies, Saber of Periwinkle. It seems that I'll not be capable of continuing what we began earlier."

"That's—"

"Ruler…" again Siegfried interrupted, "I am sorry to ask this of you… but I want you to grant that boy his freedom."

"ENOUGH!"

Silence fell upon the clearing as Saber took a deep breath.

"Ruler will do no such thing! You will take responsibility for your own actions, as is only appropriate. You did indeed save this boy, which evidently means it falls to me to save you from your own folly! Are you so eager to throw your life away that you would deliver your last rights propped against a log as insects crawl across your armor?!"

Siegfried's eyes widened, even as motes of blue light began to float of his body.

"Saber of Blue, what are you talking about?" Ruler wondered.

"Wait, Blue?" Rider yapped seeming to be distracted, "I thought it was—"

"Rin, I know it is a poor strategic move, but I beg you to let me—"

"Do it," Rin ordered. "Whatever you're going to do, do it." She looked at Shirou. "No one should have to die to save someone. Especially not while there are other alternatives available."

Saber and Shirou nodded gratefully at Rin.

"Besides, I just… honestly, I can't even bear to watch any more of this idiocy. I mean look at this farce!" she continued. "The man's first instinct after deciding to save this kid was to rip out his own heart—"

"Well, actually, it was his second," Rider interrupted.

"Okay, fine, whatever," Rin grumbled, "The man's second instinct after deciding to save this kid was to rip out his own heart. And you heard that spiel he gave; you'd think the idiot's laboring under the delusion that he's the one being selfish here."

"Uh, actually, that's exactly what he's thinking," Rider said, his tone as disparaging as it could possibly be. Which really wasn't that much. He mostly sounded like he was having a panic attack, if anything. Rin just smacked her forehead.

"Am I surrounded by idiots?!" she snapped.

"Absolutely!" Rider affirmed with a brief smile.

"Why are you bragging about it?! Also, aren't you supposed to be freaking out over your dying teammate? Honestly, in what whacked out universe does a person tear out their heart, transplant it into someone else, and then think of themselves as self-centered?! Catastrophically stupid, sure, but selfish doesn't apply."

Meanwhile, the King of Knights held her hands out in front of her. A shining golden light began to emanate from the center of her body, quickly overwhelming the sapphire particles drifting up from Siegfried's slowly dissipating form. In a brilliant golden flash, she held Excalibur's sheath in her hands.

"That scabbard…" Ruler whispered. "But your legend says— how is this possible…?"

"I once knew an honorable knight who was forced to fall on his own blade due to the hideous machinations of another Holy Grail War," Saber shouted. "I refuse to allow yet another worthy soul to meet such a disgraceful end! So I admonish you, Sir Siegfried, live! There are still many more you can save, if you only give yourself that chance! Look onward to the Everdistant Utopia! Avalon!"

Saber pressed the scabbard point down against Siegfried's chest. The moment it came into contact with his body, the divine construct sank into his body as though it were unobstructed.

The results were nigh instantaneous. The bright blue particles that were evaporating off of the knight suddenly changed color, turning gold and racing to return to his body. The entirety of his being, as well as his armor, flashed gold for the briefest of moments.

Siegfried took a sharp, ragged breath, his eyes wide with shock. He clutched at his own chest, seemingly amazed to feel a heart beating beneath his skin. "Impossible…"

Rider stared wide-eyed at the scene, his jaw hanging open just a tad. For a few moments, he didn't move a muscle. And then…

"You're alive!" Rider cheered, jumping to his feet and throwing his arms into the air. Any and all signs that he'd been crying vanished instantaneously.

Saber stepped back to Rin and smiled, a little ruefully, but no less earnest for it, "Avalon's regenerative abilities are quite impressive. Restoring your heart, while time consuming, should be simple enough. Until then, it will at least keep you alive."

"Avalon… which would make you…" Siegfried raised his head and looked upon Saber with new, wondrous awe painted on his face. "King of Knights… thank you. I owe you an unfathomable debt."

"Think nothing of it," Saber deflected gracefully. "You have more than proven yourself a worthy hero. As such, your death should befit one. Moreover, never do something so obscenely foolish ever again! Sacrificing yourself should be a last resort among last resorts. That is my most powerful Noble Phantasm and I do expect you to return it at your earliest convenience, and suffice to say, I'll not save you again if you make this same mistake again."

Saber of Black gave her a simple nod. Not quite enough to reassure her, but for now, she'd leave it at that. Even with Saber's identity having been revealed, Rin couldn't find it in herself to regret her decision. Besides, after seeing what just transpired, she had come to the conclusion that she couldn't predict how Siegfried would behave in any type of situation. He was just as likely to reveal Saber's identity as he was to keep it a secret.

And at that moment…

"NGH!" the homunculus boy gasped as his magic circuits, still blazing, increased in their intensity yet again. His entire body began to glow, startling everyone in the clearing as he winced in discomfort. The light he was giving off grew to such an intensity that they had to shield their eyes. But when it faded…

"What the heck is all this?!" Astolfo stammered

The boy Siegfried had saved was not the same man that now lay beneath the tree. In the time since they last looked at him, it was as though he'd aged seven years in the span of a few minutes. He was taller, his features were more defined, and he was significantly more muscular—though that really only meant that there was an outline of his body beneath his clothes whereas before they'd been hanging off him as though he were a skeleton.

Rin watched as the transformed homunculus slowly opened his eyes.

"He's alive too! His heart is beating!" Rider screamed jubilantly to the heavens. "Thank goodness! You're alive! Saber's alive! Everyone's alive! I'm so happy! Gosh, this all worked out really nicely."

"What the…" the boy groaned, "What… happened?"

"How are you feeling?" Jeanne asked.

After a few moments of hesitation, he spoke, but more to himself than in response to Ruler's question.

"I'm alive… but how?" he murmured.

"You're here… because a kind Servant nearly gave his very life to save yours," she answered quietly. "You've no need to worry about repaying a debt. He would have died, but some… strange circumstances conspired to prevent that. Specifically, another Servant from a different faction saved his life in turn," she looked up at Arturia. "I appreciated your sentiment, Saber of Blue, as there are tasks that I must attend, but though it may require a detour, I am in a far more suitable position to aid this homunculus than your fellow Saber." She returned her gaze to the boy in front of her.

"Servant, Ruler," she introduced herself. "My true name is Jeanne d'Arc. As per that hero's request, I will protect your life—your soul."

The boy stared in awe, and Rin started to question if this homunculus had been worth saving. He didn't seem particularly bright.

"It's a miracle! You're alive!" cried Rider. Rin squinted at the scene, trying to figure out why it was that he only got more enthusiastic the more time passed rather than following the natural order of excitement wearing off. He looked eager to continue his streak of successes. To that end, he grabbed the poor homunculus, engulfed him in a tight bear hug, and proceeded to squeeze the life out of him, snuggling him like a teddy bear.

Ruler and Shirou walked over to the two and knelt down on beside the boy.

"Um, you may want to let him breathe," Shirou suggested.

"Indeed, something like this is unprecedented," Ruler stated. "I want to examine him, Rider, so please move aside."

Rider of Black didn't seem to notice, continuing to cuddle the homunculus with an obliviousness that was both strangely charming, and objectively ridiculous.

"Rider?" she asked.

No response.

"…Rider?"

Ruler narrowed her eyes at the pink haired Servant, likely focusing her True Name Discernment on the boy to find a weakness. She began to mutter. "Symptoms may include hyperactivity, impaired sense of awareness, emotional outbursts, cross-dressing, liking hippogryphs even when they don't like you…"

Eventually, even Ruler lost patience with this and she shoved Rider off the poor homunculus.

"Pardon me," she said, her courteous tone somewhat at odds with the strength she put into shoving the Servant aside.

She placed a hand on the homunculus' chest, a soft glow under her palm. "It seems that Siegfried's heart is functioning properly with its new surroundings. …nothing remotely like this has happened in previous Holy Grail Wars."

"How can that even be possible?" Rin inquired. "A Servant is a being of incredible mystery and mystical power. How could a human body adapt to even a piece of its existence? As a homunculus, I suppose it might not be impossible, but it still seems improbable."

"I don't know the answer to that," Jeanne admitted. "A homunculus is a blank slate, a perfect existence. Perhaps it could be compared to how a blank canvas can be covered by paint… so by that line of thinking, one could argue that this boy's hollowness allowed his body to safely adjust to the task of containing Siegfried's power."

"Did you say Siegfried?" the boy asked. "The hero from the Nibelungenlied? I have— I have his heart?!"

"One of them at any rate," Shirou informed him, rubbing his forehead. "But don't worry, you're both fine. He saved you and our Saber saved him."

The homunculus's gaze darted over to the dragonslayer himself. "You… saved me? Thank you. Thank you so much."

Siegfried smiled softly. "Think nothing of it, little one."

"Exactly!" Rider of Black exclaimed. "All that matters is that you're both alive and okay."

Jeanne frowned. "That's true, however… Rider…" she trailed off as though expecting something of him.

Saber's eyes went wide.

"Rin! Shirou! Behind me!" Saber shouted.

Too late. Two Servants abruptly materialized nearby. The first was a girl in a wedding dress with what looked like a horn jutting out of her head, and the other a tall man encased in golden armor and deep violet robes. The most unusual part of his attire was the faceless golden mask he wore, evidently part of his armor. Moments later, six more figures arrived. Four of them wore the same white and gold jackets as Gordes and had Command Seals on their hands. The Masters of Black.

"Aw man…" Rider whined as he stood up, "They found us."

The other two figures were clearly Servants. One's energy felt like the fresh pine of a forest, and he stood behind a wheelchair-bound girl, his master no doubt. Though the horselike tail sticking out behind him was a mystery.

Still, the final one was the most terrifying, beyond question. He sat upon a clay construct built in the likeness of a warhorse, his deep frown set like a knife. His long blond hair was pale and only added to the regal air about him which only magnified the sensation of menace he gave off. More than anything else, his mere presence commanded respect and fear. But unlike the others, she recognized this one. She'd seen his portrait in history books and encyclopedias her whole life. This was Vlad Tepes III, better known as Vlad the Impaler, son of Dracul. A legend who was not only world-famous but here, he'd also been summoned smack-dab in the middle of his homeland and was backed up by a squad of other Heroic Spirits.

Rin's face paled. They were surrounded. They were surrounded by the entire Black Faction, and Saber no longer had Avalon. She grit her teeth in a ferocious and hopefully misleading sneer, cold sweat beading on her forehead and the back of her neck.

"Rider, what is it that happened here?" asked the Master standing beside the King of Romania, a man with ageless features and long blue hair. His voice was baleful, yet also flat and toneless, the sound of a person who only lived for a singular purpose and could see no value in anything else. "Answer."

"Well, ah… y'see…"

"I've not finished speaking, you have a great deal to explain: Why do Saber and Gordes appear to have been incapacitated? Who are these interlopers standing over you, and what exactly is your excuse for allowing them so deep inside our domain?"

Rin scowled. She couldn't be certain who this man was, but she had a pretty good guess.

Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia.

So, this was the bastard that had killed off the three families. Maybe he'd get too close and she could hit him with a Finn Shot.

And that was it for her spontaneous bright ideas. Well, at least she had one consolation: She was in the presence of a Saint. So there was always at least one plan:

Pray for a miracle. Because only that was going to save them now.


Well... that's slightly problematic.

Looks like the Blue Faction have done some good and as a consequence put themselves in a mess of trouble. Ruler can't order the Black Faction not to attack them after all. And without Avalon, they are just a bit outgunned.

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Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!

Go Forth and Conquer!