The chapter of October... on November 2nd...

Deepest apologies for the lateness of this chapter. Real life has been irritatingly rough recently and I was barely able to keep up with my weekly series. Good news is, that story is on hiatus for the next month, so I will be able to get back on track with this. Thank you for your patience.

Beta-ed by Draconic


"Owww!" Astolfo cried. "Would you please ease up a little?!"

Siegfried sighed. After the others had returned from dealing the homunculus and the Blue Faction, Lord Vlad had sentenced both him and Rider to the dungeon for a few days as punishment for their actions. Considering said actions nearly deprived Yggdmillienia's arsenal of a crucial resource—and succeeded in the case of the escaped homunculus boy—it was a fair judgment on the Lord Impaler's part. He and Rider stood in opposite cells, facing each other through a set of iron bars.

Though Rider's Master, Lady Celenike, had apparently decided to add her own punishment to the mix. Though her curses could not bypass Astolfo's ludicrously powerful Magic Resistance, she had beseeched Lancer enough that the king had provided her with some of his stakes to use. Thus, Rider was now impaled into the dungeon wall by his hands and Siegfried was left very thankful that Kazikli Bey could not penetrate his armor.

"We all nearly died!" Celenike screeched. She twisted the spike going through Rider's palms as she got in his face. "If that Periwinkle girl hadn't needed us alive to fight the Red Faction, her little pets would have slaughtered us all right there! And all because of you!"

Siegfried wanted to intercede, to protest that the incident Archer had informed him of inside the Blue Faction's Reality Marble was not solely Rider's responsibility. Indeed, he himself should have gotten Lord Gordes back to the castle faster so he could have returned to help. If he had been around to counter the King of Knights, perhaps one of the others could have defeated the young man and forced him to drop the Reality Marble. He couldn't say a word though: Now that the emergency situation regarding the homunculus boy had ended, the command that his Master gave him to remain silent—an order that he had shamefully violated multiple times—was back in effect.

Though, to his eternal dishonor, he was secretly quite glad the Blue Faction had been able to escape unharmed. They did not have to assist him in any way. Indeed, the more strategic choice would have been to let him die, but instead, they used one of the most powerful Noble Phantasms in existence to save him from his own sacrifice. They were still enemies due to their factions, but the Dragon Slayer held all three of them in the highest respect. Even if he knew how to release the scabbard from inside of him as Lord Darnic and Lady Fiore requested of him, which he didn't, he would do his best to retain the sheath and see it safely returned to the King of Knights before their promised rematch.

"Sorry! But how was I supposed to know that guy had a freaking Reality Marble?" Astolfo grunted. "I mean who even has one of those things these days?! No one! I mean obviously that Shirou guy does, but… You know what I mean. I really don't see how this is my—gah!"

Lady Celenike twisted the spike, drawing blood from her Heroic Spirit. "We never would have been in that mess in the first place if you hadn't tried to release that damned homunculus!"

"Hey! I succeeded in releasing that homunculus!" he corrected in a brief show of defiance. "That's really the only thing I can take credit for here."

The proud tone he used was apparently a mistake. An enraged howl escaped Celenike's throat as she smashed Rider back against the wall she'd (literally) pinned him to. She left the cell, slammed the iron cage door shut and stormed off.

It was honestly a little unsettling. Maybe Siegfried could ask Archer about meditation techniques the lady could utilize to calm her nerves. On the other hand, would she really take such things to heart? She actually seemed to enjoy being angry.

Also, that wasn't even the real problem: The issue was that in order to help Lady Celenike, someone would have to communicate with her, and experience had shown clearly that any interaction with Celenike Icecolle resulted in a laundry list of undesirable consequences, including but not limited to molestation, threats, broken fingers, and multiple stab wounds.

She probably had everything under control. She was the very picture of sanity and mental wellbeing. There was no conceivable reason to bother her.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Astolfo whined. "Why is she so mean?!"

As though on cue, Archer materialized before the Paladin.

"Should I have intervened on your behalf?"

Rider shrugged. "You had nothing to do with this. I did something stupid and now I'm being punished for it. That's all this is." He tilted his head to look past Chiron and gave Siegfried a stink eye. "Though I think it's a little unfair that I'm the only one getting tortured when I wasn't the one who ripped out his own heart!"

Siegfried bowed his head in shame.

Rider's face lit up with a cheery smile. "Hey, no need to get all down about it. What you did was really noble. It just wasn't very smart. And let's face it, if I can say that unironically, you're probably doing something seriously wrong."

Archer sighed. "I may have worded it a bit differently, but I can agree with that assessment. Though, Saber cannot receive similar punishment as you since his Armor of Fafnir protects him from harm everywhere save the one vulnerable spot on his back, and that area is so sensitive that allowing Lady Celenike to practice her… hobby around that area would be quite unwise."

The sage shook his head at the both of them. "Everyone was saying that you both lost all rationality. I cannot say for certain if that's true just yet, but Lord Vlad is quite a wise leader; I doubt you'll be in here for long."

"More importantly, I hope that boy is going to be okay," Rider mused, still smiling.

"He should be," Archer assured him. He nodded to Siegfried. "Assuming Saber's heart is functioning properly, his body will have been strengthened a great deal. He will be able to live his life freely as a human being."

"Jeanne d'Arc swore she'd protect him too," Rider grinned. "Though to be honest, if the Blue guys hadn't saved Saber too, I'd have found it a little annoying that the four of them just showed up out of nowhere to save the day. Has she finished checking the Grail? We don't have that Angry Maniac, or… whatever it was called… in there, do we?"

Archer chuckled. "No. Ruler has communed with the Grail and confirmed that Shirou's fears were unnecessary. The wish the chalice grants should proceed as the user desires."

Siegfried sighed in relief. He had not been present when the young boy had detailed the consequences of using a corrupted Holy Grail, but even Rider's less than specific description had invoked a silent dread in the knight. If the wish made on the Grail could bring only destruction, then he'd have felt obligated to do all in his power to ensure it never granted one, even if that meant the ultimate betrayal of the Black Faction: Destroying the Grail itself. It was a weight off his shoulders to know such measures would not need to be taken.

"She and the homunculus set out with the Blue Faction a little while ago," Archer continued. "She will make sure they go the requisite distance from here that the ceasefire demands."

A frown crossed Rider's face, far more serious than his usual expressions. "So, the Blue Faction is with that boy?"

Archer cocked an eyebrow. "Yes. Is that a problem? They spoke up in his defense when Lord Darnic and Caster wanted to take him, though that may have been motivated by a desire to deprive us of a resource."

"Nah, they wanted to protect him," Rider refuted immediately. "They're good people. It's just… well… a Reality Marble is someone's inner world, right? A reflection of their soul?"

"It is," Archer confirmed. "What are you getting at, Rider?"

"Well, you'd think a soul would be filled with, you know, life. People, grass, sunshine. You know, lively stuff," Astolfo explained. "But that boy, Shirou… his world was just swords. I could barely see the sky through the smoke. He's a good guy, but what he said about the grail's corruption, what it could do… I don't think he was giving us an expectation. That was the warning of a person who'd already lived it. If he's been in another Grail War somewhere, what he described actually happened. And obviously, it did something to him. Or he did something to himself in response to it… trying to do something to him? But whatever he is now… I'm just worried about what it could mean for the homunculus."

"You think that he might have a negative influence on the boy?"

"He did just help save his life. I would admire anyone who did that for anyone, let alone me. And for most people, that's fine, just because you admire someone doesn't mean you're going to copy them. But that boy, the homunculus… he has the will to live, but up until a few days ago, he was a blank slate. He's still developing his identity. I want him to live, to go out into the world, learn what it's like to love or even hate someone, not break himself trying to follow in someone else's footsteps."

Siegfried didn't really comprehend what Astolfo was worried about. The Blue Faction had a war to fight. Perhaps they would travel with Ruler while they escorted the homunculus to his new life, but they wouldn't stick around and involve him. Besides, there were many people who assisted in the boy's liberation, even he himself had played a minor role. Naturally, the homunculus would hold admiration for the magus, but he would hold that same esteem for the King of Knights, Ruler, and especially Rider himself. He would take the foundation of his new ideals from all of them.

Though honestly, Siegfried didn't understand why it would be so terrible for the boy to hold Shirou as his idol. The red-haired magus seemed to have earned the respect of the King of Knights, and his past interactions with Lord Gordes had shown him to be merciful and kind, just as a hero should be. If this age was capable of sending souls to the Throne, he had no doubt Shirou would make a more than worthwhile addition to its ranks.

Archer tilted his head to the side, a perplexed stare fixed on the Paladin. "I am surprised at the detail of your reasoning, Rider. I did not think you one for such thoughts."

"Eh, there was no moon in that Reality Marble," Astolfo chirped. "You know me, the moon stole my sanity, so being in a universe where it's not just new but doesn't even exist. Man, I would have turned into a genius if we'd stayed much longer."

"You took the sight of your fellow Paladin's sword as a sign that he was present in a modern mage's inner world," Archer deadpanned.

"Hey, I said genius, not focused."

Archer sighed. "Clearly. Nevertheless, you need not worry. The homunculus is not alone with Shirou, he shouldn't develop any obsession."

"But guy time!" Rider protested.

"…Guy time?"

"Yeah. They're the only boys in the group." Astolfo insisted as if Archer had somehow missed that. "Surrounded by women, they'll eventually have to take some time for themselves to escape the all-encompassing feminine mystique! You know, to talk about manly things!"

Chiron stared at the paladin. "And exactly what sort of 'manly' topics would they be discussing?"

Astolfo furrowed his brow in thought. After an agonizingly slow minute, he finally answered.

"I dunno. Steak?"

"Rider… you're speaking complete nonsense," Archer said.

"What? You wound me, Archer."

"I should hope not. Causing you injury could trigger your Master's apparent territorial instincts. And I would consider encroaching upon her domain to be a decidedly reckless act."

"Aw, please. She won't mind in the slightest."

An eerie creak echoed through the dungeon, the entrance to the complex opening wide, letting artificial light slink into the dark halls from the castle proper.

"Oh no! She heard us!" Rider squealed. "Hide, Chiron! Wait, no! You hide me!"

The Sage of Heroes merely shook his head in exasperation and dissipated into the aether with a scattering of blue particles.

While Rider shivered in his restraints, Siegfried turned towards the hall. It seemed out of character for Lady Celenike to return so soon after she had stormed out. She usually called a few of the homunculi to her room after losing her temper, and in the very short period since he'd been summoned, that had already happened on more than one occasion. When she did this, she generally wouldn't come out for a few hours. The knight tried not to think about what she had done to those unfortunate souls. The woman stank of blood. Perhaps not something a normal human being would be able to notice, but for a practiced warrior, there was no mistaking it. How many homunculi had she already killed?

Whatever the case, this wasn't going to end well.

However, he and Rider both noticed something at the same time. The sound of the footfalls was the sound of dress shoes. And while this didn't necessarily mean anything, all of Celenike's shoes were heels, which did produce a distinctively different echo against the floor. So, who was coming down?

That question was answered for Siegfried as he saw his own Master trudge over to his cell, open the door, and step inside, a slight limp in his step and a half-full bottle of whiskey swaying from his grip. He made his way across from his Servant and leaned back against the bars.

For a moment, all the poor man did was stare at Siegfried, his furious gaze washing all over the knight, heedless of the bags under his eyes.

"You look the same," Gordes muttered.

Siegfried raised an eyebrow but held his tongue as per his orders.

"I said you look the same!" the portly mage repeated louder, his bottle smacking into the iron bars behind him, a resounding clang echoing through the air. "They informed me that you tore out your own heart. You tore out your own heart for that homunculus. I assumed there'd at least be a scar. But no… You're a Servant. Of course, you wouldn't scar."

Siegfried remained silent. He wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical, or if not, whether holding himself to his Master's command for silence would better help his mental state. Breaking it during the earlier incident had certainly not helped their relationship.

"Oh, for the love of— Speak, you useless Servant!" Gordes shouted. "Forget that order. Why would you choose now to start obeying my commands, anyway?"

Siegfried bowed his head. "Forgive me, Master. I am an unworthy Servant."

"Uh, no! You're really not," said Rider. "Stop being so down on yourself, Saber. You just ripped out your heart to save someone you didn't even know. If that's not the essence of true heroism, then I don't know what is!"

"Yes, ripping out your own heart for a mere homunculus. A creature with no personality or identity," Lord Gordes hissed. "For that, you attacked your own Master."

"Aaaand he's turned it around on you," Rider added in what seemed to be turning into a running commentary.

Siegfried cringed. His intentions had been good, but his actions had still been a serious breach of his oath. His Master had been too stressed at the time to be safely reasoned with, so he had done what he'd thought had been best for everyone. Obviously, he should have thought harder on the matter.

"Fiore told me about Rider's report. About how you saved him because that was your wish," Gordes muttered. "Is that true?"

"It is, Master," he nodded. "My sole wish, for the Grail and for my summoning, was to save someone. Not because they asked me to, but because I wanted to. I apologize that I could not remember sooner. If I had answered your concerns earlier, perhaps this situation would not have arisen."

Gordes' grip on his whiskey tightened. "Saving… someone…"

"Yeah, saving people!" Rider called out. "You know, that thing that heroes do."

The Paladin's words had barely left his mouth when Lord Gordes whirled around and chucked his bottle through the bars of Astolfo's cell, the glass shattering around course stone.

"What foolishness is this!?" Gordes roared. He glared at Siegfried, his eye bloodshot and tear stained. "Saving someone? That's what this nonsense has been about? Preposterous! I could almost understand if you only lived for the thrill of battle, but… you want to live just so you can help other people? People you've never even met? That is positively asinine!"

Siegfried understood his Master's fury. Lord Gordes was a mage, through and through. And in the world of magecraft, one's personal power was everything. There was no room for such things as compassion for others. Outsiders were kept out of mage affairs because new families of magic users would stretch the world's already thin supply of prana even further. Helping people they didn't know was simply not an effective use of time, energy, or resources.

"A goal for yourself, I could understand. A quest for some loved one, I could admire. But this!" the man continued to rage. "You caused all this upheaval because you wanted to play savior to a disposable tool! You made Darnic so… so…"

Siegfried raised his head at the pause in his master's speech. His eyes widened.

"Master… are you… crying?"

Gordes immediately shoved his arm across his face and wiped away the errant tears. "No, you fool! Don't talk such nonsense! Darnic was simply… displeased that I did not inform him of the girl's name previously. How was I supposed to know she was really a Tohsaka? They were wiped out! And the boy, he only used Gradation Air! What part of that could I possibly have extrapolated to reach the conclusion that he had a Reality Marble?!"

For once, Siegfried's silence was not from an order. He simply did not know what to say. He knew his master had been struggling under Lord Darnic's expectations, but he had failed to understand just how heavy the burden had been weighing upon him. He, as his Servant, should have done something to ease his suffering but he… he hadn't.

As usual, only one phrase came to mind.

"I'm sorry."

Gordes heaved a sigh and sank back against the iron bars, falling to his knee. Black dirt coated his pristine white jacket. "You keep saying that, but you don't seem to act on it. You are my Servant. You are supposed to be my weapon to wield."

"Ugh!" Rider groaned. "This again. Why are all you mages so dead set on seeing us as nothing more than weapons? If that's all you wanted, you should have just summoned our Noble Phantasms and fought it out yourselves."

"We brought you into this world," Gordes snarled. "Our magical energy sustains you here. You swore your loyalty in exchange for that privilege. You are literally called Servants!"

"A Servant isn't a weapon. Or an attack dog. Well, I guess Berserker kind of is, but that's beside the point," Astolfo countered. "Back in my time, if my king did something stupid or unjust, I would have called him out on it, but that didn't mean I wasn't still loyal to him. Granted, he was him and I was me, so that never happened and most of the time he was keeping me from running around naked with a donkey strapped to my back… uhhh…" he shrank back against the all under Gordes' withering glare, "I swear there was a point to all of this, but I don't think I have one anymore."

"I disagree, Rider," Siegfried confirmed to his genuine surprise.

"He does?!"

"I do?"

Siegfried nodded, the spark of inspiration Rider's speech had lit fanning into a bonfire of realization. He gazed down on his defeated lord.

"Master, let me try to explain this in a manner suitable to your current outlook. You have been trying to wield me like a weapon, a warhammer to batter your foes into submission," he began gently. "But I am not a blunt instrument. I am a sword. You are trying to use a sword as you would a warhammer and it has, in turn, failed to provide optimal results. I should have realized this sooner and alerted you to the issue."

"What in blazes are you on about, Saber?" Gordes demanded.

"Master, have you ever fought in a war?" Saber asked. "I have. I fought many during my lifetime, and though my invulnerability granted me much of my success, I could not have achieved all I did had I not learned other aspects of a soldier's duties. Tactics, strategies, methods to ensure victory even in defeat. I am not a simplistic attack dog, my lord. I am your Servant, a hero, a knight, and a battle-tested warrior. But I cannot help you win this war if you refuse to allow me to provide you with advice when appropriate. Please, let me help you. And the next time we meet Saber of Blue, I shall emerge victorious in your name, with our honor intact."

For a long moment, there was silence, even from Astolfo. Perhaps they were merely surprised he could speak so intensely after his tenure of silence?

Finally, Lord Gordes rose to his feet, his eyes thin and considering, their gaze on the cracked floor as his fingers twitched. He raised his fist, the back of his hand, and the single Command Seal upon it, invading his vision.

"Fine," he huffed. "I suppose it couldn't be any worse than how things have been. I'll accept your counsel for now, Saber. But if you start suggesting we go out and pull cats out of trees, I swear you'll wish you had lost your heart to that homunculus."

Siegfried smiled. "Thank you, Master. I swear on my honor as a knight, I will not fail you."

"That remains to be seen," Lord Gordes growled. The mage stumbled towards the cell door but paused before he could exit. He turned back to Siegfried. "One thing is non-negotiable. I don't know how far this foolish wish of yours extends, but you will not refuse the magical energy supplied by the other homunculi. I don't care what sentimentality you might have."

Siegfried frowned. "Master… they are innocents."

"They are tools. I created them for that specific purpose," Gordes sighed. "Besides, Darnic certainly won't let any more of them escape. They're not going away, so you might as well use them to fight to your fullest. If you're going to call yourself a sword, then you need to be properly sharpened. Is that understood?"

Siegfried considered trying to convince his master otherwise, but in the end, he nodded. He had made some progress repairing his relationship with his summoner. He shouldn't push his luck. He bid the kin of the boy he'd saved a silent apology as his master left the cell, hoping that he could gain enough influence to help them later.

"I'll see what I can do about having Lancer release you from here a bit sooner," Gordes promised, passing through the cell door.

"Aw. Really?" Astolfo brightened up.

"Not you, you rambling imbecile! You can rot for all I care! It's your fault that all this happened to begin with!"

"Oh yeah? …well… um… no, you shut up!"

Lord Gordes growled and stormed out of the dungeon in a huff.

Rider stuck his tongue out at the mage. Only when the chamber's door swung closed with a heavy thud did the Paladin fall back with a sigh.

"What a bag of hot air, I don't know how you deal with him."

Siegfried shrugged. "Until recently, I had failed to do so for the most part. But despite his temper, Master Gordes is a good man. I am proud to be his Servant."

Rider cocked an eyebrow. "You really sure about that? He just seems like an angry windbag to me. Though, given what my Master's like, I probably don't have much of a right to judge."

The Paladin of Charlemagne flashed Siegfried a sincere smile. "By the way, I don't think I've said it yet, but thank you for what you did in the forest. You saved that boy."

"You saved him," Siegfried protested. "You protected him, shielded him. I merely came to my senses in time to help."

"Ugh! You really are stubborn," Rider mused. "Fine. We can say we both saved him. But I'm still saying you did seventy-five percent of it."

Siegfried chuckled and shook his head merrily at Astolfo's words. He didn't know if he agreed with his comrade's words, but he decided he didn't care. No matter who got how much credit, no matter who had helped, they had still saved that homunculus. They had saved an innocent boy. That was what mattered.

And wherever he went now, whatever he did with the life he had claimed, Siegfried could only hope he found something he could enjoy for all his days.


FATEFATEFATEFATE

"So, you slice the carrots like this?"

"Yeah, you're doing it almost perfectly actually. Just make sure the blade is moving away from you, and keep your fingers curled inward. That way you won't accidentally cut yourself."

The boy gulped and shifted the knife's edge away from himself, slicing the vegetable in his hands into evenly sized pieces. His expression was serious as he took to his task with unbending focus. Shirou was surprised by how quickly the boy learned. Though he sometimes needed to have things explained more than once, he caught on very easily from a process of observation and imitation.

Shirou smiled at the young homunculus. After Ruler had returned from inspecting the Grail and confirmed that it was safe, the party had set out across the Romanian countryside. Along the way, Ruler had discussed the basic aspects of the homunculus' new human existence, including the necessity of a name. When asked to choose one, he had chosen Sieg. In his own words, if the Hero of the Nibelungenlied was willing to give his life to save him, he should do his best to honor him somehow, even if it was just with a name.

Shirou couldn't help but smile when he'd overheard that. Even if he was a blank slate as Rin said, the newly christened Sieg had a good heart, inherited or not. Granted, he himself had inherited a great deal from his own father, and he'd seen where that unwavering observance would lead him. Though in his defense, how could he have predicted his dream's natural conclusion was for him to go back in time in an attempt to kill his past self on the infinitesimally slim chance that it would cause a time paradox catastrophic enough to erase him from history?

On the other hand, when people started getting annoyed at you, or just feeling uncomfortable whenever you offered to help with something, he could have at least gotten a clue.

Perhaps that was why he'd taken to their new friend so quickly, wishing to help a fellow blank slate develop an identity that, if nothing else, wouldn't lead to him becoming a self-sacrificing fool.

It could also be that he was falling back into his old habits, or was feeling nostalgic from cooking with a junior?

Or maybe it was just the memory of a little girl with pale hair and crimson eyes, the last homunculus he'd had any real interaction with, even if she'd introduced herself as an enemy. The last homunculus he had been powerless to save.

He shook his head to dislodge such thoughts. He couldn't change the past and save Illya, but they had succeeded in saving Sieg. In the morning, they would leave him in the care of Serge, the kind old man who'd agreed to shelter them for the night (he'd been especially accommodating after Shirou had made dinner), and the freed homunculus for longer, even donating his old war sash to house the sword that Rider of Black had gifted him.

Astolfo… The Blue Faction had paid a heavy price to escape, but they did not come out empty handed. With the exception of Caster, who had not possessed a weapon, they now knew the identities of nearly every Black Servant, which meant they knew who they needed to plan around. The Paladin of Charlemagne and their Berserker, Frankenstein's Monster, were surprisingly weak as Servants went. One would think that if Yggdmillenia had spent decades planning the Great Holy Grail War, they'd have taken preparation to make sure all of their Heroic Spirits were the best they could be. As it was, he could probably hold off each of them without his Reality Marble, and within it, he would be able to hold them back long enough to summon an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm and obliterate them.

Of course, that didn't mean that the rest of their opposition were pushovers. Aside from the obvious points of Vlad and Siegfried, there was also Chiron, the Sage of Heroes. Shirou had no idea why he wasn't a centaur, but he knew better than to underestimate the person who'd trained Heracles. Berserker hadn't only nearly killed Saber, he'd almost killed Gilgamesh, even without a way to counter the Gate of Babylon. And that was Heracles deprived of his senses. The man who could forge a hero such as that was a force to be reckoned with. Chiron's stats, revealed from tracing his bow, didn't put him too far below his student, with the sole obvious exception being that he lacked the same brute strength, and with his Clairvoyance Skill, even landing a blow would be difficult. If Saber hadn't been there to guard him, the Grecian trainer could have eschewed his bow and just put a fist through his chest before he'd gotten the chance to fire a single sword.

Still, one on one, he was confident Saber could beat him. She'd held her own against Heracles with him as her master. With Rin as her power source, she wouldn't have too much trouble with the teacher. His greater concern was Assassin of Black, or rather, its conspicuous absence. Unlimited Blade Works had been the perfect environment for an invisible, undetectable assailant to bypass his notice and take him out before Saber could act.

Yet, there was no sign of them. Why? Had their Assassin been sent to scout the Red Faction? No, Yggdmillenia had the Greater Grail, they had no reason to go on the offensive. Had they lost control of them perhaps? It wasn't as if Servants going rogue was uncommon in Holy Grail Wars. Archer had done so in his war, and Tohsaka had told him about how Lancer had saved her by shredding Kotomine's innards.

Shirou heaved out a sigh. He needed to forget about the war, at least for the night. Their host had already turned in, and Rin and Saber would likely do the same after they finished their talk with Ruler. They were safe from the Black Faction, at least for the next few days. He had a very unhealthy habit of over-focusing on whatever conflict he was involved in, often neglecting himself in the few moments of rest he did get. He may have been a sword, but even he needed sleep to fight at the best of his ability.

No, for now, he just needed to relax, clear his mind, and teach Sieg the joys of cooking.

"Shirou?"

The redhead turned around. Ruler was just reaching the bottom of the stairs, her shoulders sagged within her civilian garb. Sieg pulled out some Tupperware from a drawer and started loading what food he'd made into it.

Shirou smiled sadly at the Maid of Orleans. "I take it this means you're heading out?"

"It does," Ruler nodded. "While I am immensely grateful for the assistance you all have lent me, it is my duty above all to remain impartial in this Holy Grail War. Traveling with one faction is preferential by nature, whether that is my intention or not."

"No need to explain. We understand," said Shirou. He was certain that Rin and Saber had said the same thing. "Do you have any idea where you'll be heading now?"

"I have communed with the Holy Grail and confirmed that whatever irregularity is afoot in this war, it likely does not originate with the Black Faction," Jeanne informed him. "Thus, the next logical course of action would be to meet with the Red Faction at their base in Sighisoara."

"With Shirou Kotomine," the redhead finished with a frown. "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night? He seems nice, but dealing with a Kotomine isn't something to be done without a good night's sleep. Besides, if Lancer's Master is around, he might have Karna take you out before you can talk to him."

Ruler blessed him with a gentle smile. "Thank you for your concern, Shirou. But I should be fine. Karna caught me off guard in our last encounter, but if I can see him coming, I should be able to use a Command Seal to force him to stand down. And I'm fairly certain that this priest can't possibly be as bad as you and Rin suggest him to be."

"Probably," Shirou confessed. "We are mostly making assumptions off our dealings with his brother. I guess we have a bit of a bias."

"Don't worry," Jeanne comforted him. "While making a prejudiced judgment is certainly not something to be applauded, if you recognize your error, you can make efforts to atone."

"True. But that's easier said than done."

His mind flashed to his field of blades, the sky clouded but with sunlight still shining through. Then he saw it darken, the firmament turned to black smog and titanic gears rise into the air. He saw his world of swords become a factory, a machine desperate to reach its end goal, yet knowing it never would.

His dream was not a mistake and he knew he had to be satisfied with never reaching it. But that didn't mean he had forgotten just how ruthless Archer could be. Nor that there was still a significant link between the two of them, the Black Command Seals on his hands proof of that.

Making efforts to correct your errors sounded so simple. Yet, how was a sword to keep from becoming a tool?

"Ruler," Sieg came forward with arms full of food containers. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for me. Please take this as a token of my appreciation. I apologize that it's not as good as Mr. Emiya's, but hopefully I'll get better."

"Oh," Jeanne gasped, taking the gift in her arms. "Thank you, Sieg. But this is unnecessary. I did not do what I did for a reward."

"Mr. Emiya?" Shirou turned the words over in his mouth. This only made them sound weirder to him.

"You will need food for your travels," Sieg pointed out. "Your body is unable to enter spirit form, so this way you won't need to stop for sustenance. Besides, is it not customary for people to return favors?"

"Well… I suppose," Jeanne reluctantly conceded. Her eyes worriedly flickered over the boy. "Though, carrying all this seems a bit unwieldy. I don't think it will fit in my new briefcase."

"I'll find a bag."

As Sieg bustled off into another room, Ruler turned back to Shirou, her amethyst eyes hard and focused.

"That boy," she murmured. "He isn't out of danger."

"What do you mean?" Shirou asked. "If you're worried about us attracting danger, we'll be gone in the morning."

"No, that isn't it," said Ruler. "I had a revelation. I saw him, on his knees and bleeding in the middle of a…" she trailed off, staring at Shirou with a melancholic, yet wary look in her eye.

Shirou waited, but when she seemed unwilling to continue, he decided he couldn't just leave it. This actually reminded him of the way Issei had avoided getting to the point when Shinji's Rider Servant attacked Ayako.

"Ruler, tell me. Where was he?"

Her answer was quiet, almost as though she were somehow ashamed.

"It was… a field full of swords."

"What?" Shirou gasped, the scenery not lost on him. "Are you saying—?"

"I do not know. It could be your world, or it could another battlefield. The imagery was not distinct," Jeanne shook her head. "I will do my best to keep him off this path as much as possible, but with this, along with those black Command Seals… I do not think this Grail War is entirely done with him."

"It is," Shirou declared, iron in his eyes. "Dead Count Shapeshifter—"

He almost felt sympathy pain when he saw the look in Jeanne's eyes upon his use of the term.

"I hate that they're called that…" she murmured.

"Calling them anything else won't change what they mean for him if he uses them."

"I know that, but—" she stopped herself before raising her voice. She sighed. "No, you're right. I apologize for my outburst. I just cannot understand why an innocent boy has to die. He didn't choose this for himself."

"Well, regardless of those Command Seals, he will get the chance to live his own life. I'll make sure of it."

Jeanne grimaced. "I pray that you are right. Though while the Lord may be loving, the paths that lead to him are rarely easy."

Shirou couldn't find it in himself to argue. He may not have believed in a higher power in the same way the Saint did, but he was more than acquainted with how cruel fate could be.

"Speaking of, however," Ruler began again. "I don't suppose you have received another message from Heroic Spirit EMIYA? Perhaps something more about this so-called 'power-up' he mentioned?"

"Unfortunately, no," Shirou sighed. "Aside from needing some sort of catchphrase to activate it and him not wanting it to be 'For Great Justice,' he's been himself about the subject. Which is to say, annoyingly tight-lipped. Although I at least figured out why it was so weird.

"The old man has an old computer in his study, so I just figured I'd looked up the phrase online and see if anything happened. And, well, what I found out reminded me of something. In my last year of high school, Taiga—you remember Tohsaka mentioned her—left an emulator on an old friend's computer—without permission, mind you—along with an English version of an old video game. The translation was appalling, and she assigned the both of us to figure out what it was supposed to say. You've never heard it, but there's this obscure joke called 'all your base is belong to us.' It's a line in the game. Shortly after that, the phrase 'for great justice' is used. Put simply, there's no significance to the phrase whatsoever. The only remotely useful thing I managed to get out of it was what Taiga wanted me to extrapolate from the bad translation. And that's several years too late."

"Hmm… unhelpful," Jeanne grimaced. "It also begs the question, why is a creature who's thousands of years old and has the wisdom of ages at his fingertips repeating old jokes about bad grammar?"

"The old man has too much time on his hands," Rin said as she walked back into the kitchen, fetching a glass and pouring a cup of water for herself before heading back to the room they were sharing with Saber. "Just leave it at that."

Shirou shrugged to the Saint. "He's also really touchy about anything having to do with 'justice'."

Jeanne sighed and shook her head.

"Still, at least we know some sort of aria is required," she said. "Perhaps if you can figure that out, you can at least determine the specifics on what they actually do. And hopefully, whether 'shapeshifter' is meant as something literal or figurative."

Shirou shrugged. "Maybe. Any clues you could give me?"

"Well… the Holy Grail System is essentially a version of the Third Magic, is it not?" said Ruler. "So, if the regular Command Seals are produced as a byproduct of the Heaven's Feel, perhaps these modified versions will perform a similar variation?"

"What, like an evolution?"

"What? No. That's preposterous," Jeanne shook her head. "There is no evolution of True Magic. But perhaps, a different application."

Shirou felt his head start to hurt. There was a reason he preferred to leave the more complex magical concepts to Rin. He could do it, he had a Reality Marble after all, but he had his limits.

Sieg returned a few moments later carrying a plastic grocery bag for Ruler. The Saint gratefully accepted the gift and the ones that went with it, her appetite likely outweighing her own selflessness. She soon after bid them both farewell and headed out.

"What were you and Ruler talking about?" the homunculus inquired.

"Nothing in particular," Shirou deflected. "More importantly, what's with this 'Mr. Emiya,' all of a sudden?"

"I just… thought it made sense. You're more knowledgeable about the world, and also my instructor. I feel that you are entitled to more respect than if I were to refer to you casually."

"Please, you really don't need to do that. Besides, I'm really not someone you should aspire to be. Unless you decide you want to open a restaurant," he added as an afterthought, chuckling at the idea. "Maybe."

Sieg cocked an eyebrow. "I don't understand. You seem to be an exemplary role model. You've survived a fire caused by the wish of something that was equatable with the devil, but you didn't let trauma define you. You have relationships with other people; earned the respect of a powerful mage, of King Arthur himse—"

"I must confess that due to some incredibly unfortunate experiences I had in life," Saber poked her head into the room, "my friendship can be bought with a two-course meal of adequate quality."

"That is merely another point in your favor," Sieg continued. "You proved that you were a proficient chef tonight at dinner. But you also have Ruler's respect in an even shorter period of time. You even possess a Reality Marble, the most powerful form of magecraft. I admit I am… new to judging another's character, but you seem to be a perfectly good person to emulate, extraordinary even. And, I… I don't even know how to be ordinary.

Shirou sheepishly scratched the back of his head. When it was all said out loud like that, he sounded like some sort of invincible protagonist from a Shonen manga, or maybe a visual novel, (he really wished Taiga hadn't left hers on his computer), with a beautiful girlfriend, unstoppable powers, and the respect of the mightiest of figures.

But he didn't feel like that. True, he had survived both the fires of hell and the Holy Grail War, but that was mostly through luck and the actions of others. Kiritsugu had saved him from the fire. Saber had protected him in the early stages of the war. Even his Reality Marble, a crowning achievement that would make the Clock Tower target him with a Sealing Designation, the inner world that allowed him to defeat The King of Heroes in single combat, he couldn't even activate without an outside prana boost. In the end, the only battle that Shirou had won purely on his own was his duel with Archer, his unyielding conviction forcing his future self to concede.

And he knew that same conviction was far from healthy. The fire broke him, forged him into a sword. He was hardly the best person to look up if one was trying to become a human. He didn't even try to cope with the tragedy and instead pushed his memories of his old life to the furthest corner of his mind. Sieg would be better suited looking up to Saber of Black…

Who'd torn out his own heart to save someone he didn't even know.

Alright, maybe Astolfo? He'd saved the young boy after all…

And was also loopier than a bendy straw and had somehow scribbled out his gender on the information Shirou had obtained from his weapon.

Rin…

No. Just no.

Why didn't he ever meet any sane people?

Oh, right, Saber was a good role model. Unless anything involving food came up, but that was better than everyone else he knew.

"Ordinary isn't really something you can learn by copying someone else," he said. He patted the young homunculus on the shoulder. "Don't worry so much about trying to get everything right away. You've got your whole life ahead of you to figure out who you want to be."

Sieg frowned. "I'm sorry. It's just that you all sacrificed so much to give me a chance at life. And I know that there were others of my kind who didn't get that chance who are still at Millenia Citadel. If I am the one to live, I don't want to waste it and dishonor any of you."

Shirou smiled at the boy. "You're not wasting anything by finding out who you are. That's what life is, learning what you like and don't like, what you want to do."

"What I want to do?" Sieg furrowed his brow. He stayed completely silent for several minutes before responding. "What do you want to do?"

Create a world where no one has to cry.

"What I want is more of a thing to be reached for than a thing to achieve," Shirou answered. It wasn't even a lie. "Let's focus on what you like for now. Do you like cooking?"

Sieg's lips rose in a tinge of a smile. "I think I did. It was… pleasant, to make something with my own hands. When I was doing it, it was like there was a song in my heart. Is that… normal?"

Shirou grinned, barely suppressing a laugh at the homunculus' apparently unintentional expressiveness. "In my experience, yes."

He guided the young homunculus back towards the kitchen, his mind frantically calculating how many recipes he could entrust to the boy before they had to turn in for the night. He, Rin and Saber would be heading out for Bucharest in the morning, Serge's newspaper drawing their attention to a series of strange murders going on in the city. Murders eerily similar to those once performed by Jack the Ripper. And who would be a better fit for a rogue Assassin than an infamous serial killer?

It infuriated him that he wasn't able to do anything about this right now. His first impulse was to take off for the city at his first opportunity, but he knew that by the time he got there, he'd be far too late to save any potential victims.

That was a problem for the morning. For now, he had a disciple to instruct in his most sacred art. After all, if Sieg was going to live in the world, he was going to need to know how to make his own food.

The war could wait for one night.


FATEFATEFATEFATE

Darnic stormed down into the bowels of Millennia Citadel, a crumpled newspaper rolled up in his hand. Another problem to add to the horde that seemed to be popping out of the woodwork recently. If Ruler discovered that they had lost control of their Assassin, she would not hesitate to impose sanctions on them for the innocent deaths that the Killer of Whitechapel had caused. And since Hyouma had failed to respond, the backwater fool was probably dead already, leaving the rest of them to clean up his mess. At least he could count on Fiore to retrieve their errant Servant of the Shadows. They could not risk eliminating their manpower, not with their other complication in play.

King Arthur, the strongest sword-wielding Servant.

This Shirou, a mage who had somehow managed to manifest a Reality Marble capable of replicating Noble Phantasms!

And somehow, they had both fallen under the command of a Tohsaka that shouldn't have existed. Fionn's information had been quite clear, and his Fintan Finegas didn't make mistakes: He had successfully eliminated every member of the founding families, even annihilating the Einzbern's stronghold in the North. He had burned Zouken Matou's manor to the ground and slain the Tohsaka Master with his own two hands. Darnic had made few mistakes in his lifetime, and he knew the Third Holy Grail War had not contained any. There was no way a member of the Founding Families could have survived in this world. All of these were irrevocable facts.

Which led him to recall their ancient teacher, the one who had guided them in the creation of the Holy Grail itself.

Part of him was flattered. If the Kaleidoscope himself had seen cause to stop him from reaching the Root, then his chances outside these new interlopers must have been better than he'd dared to imagine. The other part was absolutely livid that despite all his preparation, more obstacles kept appearing in his path. Not to mention that little girl was simply infuriating.

He had proposed having Lancer hunt them down as soon as they separated from Ruler, staking them all before they had the chance to act. But the King of Romania had been steadfast about honoring their agreement with the Blue Faction. He had suggested that, for now, they focus on checking each of the homunculi to see if any of them possessed the requisite magic circuits to act as the reactor core for Caster's Noble Phantasm.

Infuriating as Lancer's inaction was, it was not without logic. If Ruler ever discovered that they breached their accord, it would likely not end well. But if they waited a few days and allowed the Blue Faction to inevitably return, they stood to lose nothing, and indeed gained the advantage of the citadel's defenses.

But Darnic did not believe giving Rin Tohsaka time to plan would end well for anyone. Any student of the Second Magic would have to have a certain amount of craftiness. And if they made contact with Siegfried before they could figure out how to extract Avalon, the King of Knights would be far more difficult to deal with. But, to avoid Ruler's wrath, no Servant of Black could initiate battle with the Blue Faction.

Fortunately, that did leave them with one option.

The head of Yggdmilliennia charged into an enormous workshop, the ceilings higher than even the castle's ballroom. As far as the eye could see, ranks of massive golems stood at attention, smaller stone gremlins and Roche darting about among them, replacing limbs destroyed in the recent skirmish or simply testing potential upgrades. The man Darnic had come to see stood in front of them all, supervising.

"I received your message," said Caster. "What you're asking can be done, but there is an issue."

"What?" Darnic hissed. "Can you do it or not?"

"Not before the truce would end, at least not properly," Caster replied coolly, unfazed by Darnic's venom. "He is perhaps the most rebellious hero in the entire Throne. Recontracting him at all would be dangerous, but in such a short time frame, it would be a rushed job at best. We would break the Red Faction's hold, but at best, I would be able to aim him, like a wild bull released in a town. And given his Noble Phantasm and our energy reserves, said town would likely be annihilated along with whoever he was sent after."

Darnic hummed in thought. That would admittedly be somewhat problematic. The Holy Grail War was meant to be kept secret after all. And explaining why an entire town was suddenly gone would be… difficult. The Mage's Association would come down on anyone who dared flaunt magecraft so openly.

Then again, he had seceded from the Association. And if the entire town was wiped out, there would be no witnesses to potentially spread the word. Aside from which, the incident itself still wouldn't be large enough to warrant the attention of any higher intervention like the Counter Force.

Besides, eliminating the Blue Faction—and that wretched Tohsaka—would remove the greatest obstacle to his ascension to the Root. And as long as he succeeded, nothing else mattered. The rest of humanity could burn.


FATEFATEFATEFATE

Shirou Kotomine smiled as he surveyed the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. The majestic terraces were not yet complete, but the sprawling range of stone stadiums, columns, and statues were already a massive complex grand enough to match even the mightiest of metropolises. Dancing across the multiplying rooftops was a menagerie of greenery, vines, fruits, and delicacies from all over the world, even places where the garden could not possibly have acquired plants from in their own time. Even if it was said that Semiramis did not actually build this wonder of the world, her recreation of its glory was truly sublime in its own right.

"Well," the woman herself inquired, slinking over his shoulder. "What do you think, Master?"

"Exquisite," said Shirou, offering a peaceful smile to her. "I can't wait to see what it will be like once you've completed them."

"Eager to annihilate our enemies, aren't you?" Assassin teased. "You have no need to worry. The Mage's Association has just sent the last of the necessary materials. It should arrive tomorrow and after that, it won't be long."

"I know. I checked in with them this morning," said Shirou. "They will also have an additional item for me; one of great importance."

"Oh, I was unaware the Mage's Association possessed anything you required."

"Under normal circumstances, they don't, at least, nothing that they would ever be willing to grant me. Even now, in the midst of Yggdmillennia's succession and every favor I've earned over these last sixty years, I've only been able to acquire a small piece of what I was after."

Semiramis cocked an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"A peace offering."

"I see. For the Periwinkle Faction, I presume."

Shirou nodded. "Unlike the other masters, we have no need to actually defeat the opposing teams. Caster and I should be able to manipulate the Greater Grail to invoke Heaven's Feel without such a bloodbath. We will have to go through the Black Faction to acquire it, but our unexpected additions are another matter entirely. They may have been somewhat distressed by our assault on Ruler but if there is any chance we can still ally with them, then that would be for the best."

Semiramis frowned. The Empress of Assyria circled around and glared at him warily. "So you've acquired some means by which to pacify them."

"Not exactly. Though you needn't worry; even if they refuse the offer, it will still be useful to us, though I will need your assistance in preparing it."

"Right. I take it this means your brother confirmed the girl's story?"

Shirou frowned, a wave of profound grief surging through him. "No. I was unable to speak with him."

"What? Why would that be?"

"He attempted to commit suicide."

Semiramis' eyes widened for a moment. "Sui— Are you alright, master?"

"As alright as I have to be," Shirou declared, stone-faced. "We are in the middle of a war, after all."

"True." The empress glanced over her gardens, no longer even remotely surprised; death was hardly a stranger to her. Her narrowed eyes and almost imperceptible frown, however, betrayed her bemusement. "Still, I thought such actions were deeply frowned upon by those of your faith."

"It is. But Kirei has always been burdened with an anomaly that has… isolated him… from the rest of humanity. It was why I've kept my distance all this time," Shirou sighed. "I suppose it finally became too much for him."

"Apparently not enough to finish the job."

"He would have, but his daughter, my niece Caren, found him before the worst could occur. She was the one I spoke to."

Assassin smirked. "Good for the girl. And you, Master. Though, I don't suppose she was able to provide us with any useful information."

Shirou smiled. "Actually, she was. More than I'd expected even."

"Oh? So did your brother teach this so-called 'Tohsaka' girl or not?"

"Definitely not," Shirou confirmed. "While Kirei does possess magic circuits, Caren was able to confirm that he has never studied magecraft at all, let alone to the degree necessary to train a mage capable of supporting a Servant that could go toe to toe with Lancer."

"So, she is an imposter." Semiramis grinned, a serpent that had sighted its prey. "I was correct after all."

"Not necessarily," Shirou replied. He quickly found himself at the wrong end of an indignant glare. "I apologize for contradicting you so hastily. However, while the girl certainly did not learn from my brother, I did not feel any deception in the words of Shirou Emiya. And while I admit I am not immune to deception, Lancer is. If the Emiya boy had not been truthful when speaking the girl's name—"

"Then he's beyond delusional and merely believes her to be a Tohsaka." Semiramis snarked. "Master, dead is dead. I should know. And as you've made perfectly clear, the last Tohsaka in this world died a long time ago."

"I concur. There is little chance that this girl is a Tohsaka of this world."

The look on Semiramis' face was one of complete stupefaction. It was almost endearing if he was to be perfectly honest with himself. However, she rectified this quickly, staring at him with an expression that displayed exactly how thoroughly unamused she was. "You can't be serious."

"Why not? This is a Holy Grail War. We're all already fighting over one True Magic."

"Yes, but even with that, this conflict is hardly severe enough to draw the Kaleidoscope's attention. Why would he intervene?"

Shirou shrugged. "Who can say why Zelretch does anything? He has always been close with the Tohsaka bloodline. Perhaps he wanted to give the girl a chance to avenge her kin in this timeline."

"That seems even less likely."

"True," Shirou admitted. "Nevertheless, the more important aspect of this possibility is that we gain a greater understanding of our new foes. Something that our allies have been able to help with."

"Shishigou?" Semiramis asked. "I thought he and his pet knight were heading to Bucharest. That is where you sent Archer to reinforce them, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Shirou nodded. With all the unexpected upheaval that had occurred recently, he'd thought it unwise to allow their allies to seek out a killer of the Mage's Association forces alone. "But when I called them in order to inform them of my theory, our necromancer had quite a bit to spill about our mysterious Master's emissary."

Shirou Emiya. He was kicking himself for not recognizing the boy's last name. Even if he was trained by the Mage Killer of a different world, the scion of Kiritsugu Emiya was sure to be a dangerous foe.

Which made it all the more perplexing that Shirou had not sensed any malicious intent from him during their discussion. Yes, the boy had prepared to defend himself when the priest had readied his black keys, but that was a natural response. Other than that, the boy had been the perfect guest, courteous, reasonable, and even concerned for the wellbeing of the innocents of the war, a trait proven to be genuine when he had helped defend Ruler during Lancer's attack.

But looking back on that meeting, and having had his thoughts drawn to Kirei so recently, he noticed something he had missed before:

Shirou Emiya felt like his brother.

It wasn't the same. Not exactly. Their anomalies weren't even remotely of the same nature, but they both had them. They were both warped so drastically that they could never change on their own, even if they tried.

And while normally quite tragic, it could prove beneficial to the priest in this scenario. If Shirou Emiya was not warped in the same way as Kirei, perhaps he would be more aware of his affliction and be more amenable to potentially curing himself as a component of humanity's salvation. Perhaps Shirou could succeed here where he'd failed to assist his brother.

As soon as he had the opportunity, he would offer to form an alliance with the third faction. If they were hesitant, he'd reveal his gift. With any luck, they could join together to see their wishes granted. And if they couldn't see eye to eye, then he would simply have to achieve his goals without them. Preferably without killing them, so that when humanity was saved, they would share in the glorious deliverance.

But, if worst came to worst, he would allow nothing to stand in his way. Not the past, nor an alternate present.


A huge thank you to my patrons: Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction and Cool guy.

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

Go Forth and Conquer!