Waver gathered his belongings after graciously accepting a cup of coffee from Rin. He mentioned off-handedly that he was in for a lot of busywork tonight once he arrived back at the Clock Tower, and she offered him a pick-me-up. If anyone understood the diligence required to live up to expectation, it was her.

It was cheap, very mediocre coffee. He kind of missed it.

"Make sure to tell the others I appreciate their honesty, and I hope you all have a pleasant evening. We'll be in touch with you soon," Waver told Rin as he put down the empty mug.

Rin playfully squinted at the man.

"What makes you so sure we were honest?" Rin inquired cheekily.

That caught his attention. What motivation would she possibly have to ask such a thing? Her genuine curiosity must've been strong, if that indeed was the source.

"Your stories all matched, for one," he said, "Small details were different enough between the four of you to know you clearly didn't rehearse them, and generally speaking I don't think you'd all have any motivation to lie. Nothing to be gained from it,"

He meant every word. It was less them getting their stories straight and more just for record-keeping anyway, but if something suspicious was going on? He would've been surprised. Though if trouble came from somewhere, it would certainly be from Rin. She was polite and nice, but Waver could tell she was fiery underneath it all. She had some of her father in her, but without the arrogance. There was no certainty with her, instead there was just desire. Desire to prove oneself. Potentially, at any expense.

"Fair enough. You seem to be a decent judge of character, from the looks of it," she said.

Waver had no misconceptions about this. He was.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, though I suppose you already know that, which is why I'll take that compliment," he remarked, standing up and stretching.

"More an observation," Rin said plainly, "So that's it? We're off the hook?"

He eyed her curiously.

"To be frank, Ms. Tohsaka, you were never on the hook for anything," he said, "Unless of course there's something you've omitted,"

Rin's expression became notably less bright. They stood in silence halfway to the door, and Rin sighed.

"I find it strange that you aren't investigating the disappearance of Zouken Matou," she said bluntly.

Waver looked at her curiously. The man had hardly been mentioned by any of them, despite his apparent involvement with both them as individuals and the war itself.

"Well, that's up for debate," Waver explained, "His disappearance is merely speculation at this point. If I had a dime for every time some old mage went into a self-imposed exile, I wouldn't be doing office gruntwork,"

He tried to say his piece without seeming interrogative. However, Rin's interest in the matter was the first thing all evening that rang as suspicious.

"I figured it would be a big deal. He's an important figure. Just disappearing like that when you're the final bearer of your family's blood? It's peculiar, isn't it?" she asked.

She was deflecting. Expertly, no doubt, but she was.

"Well, to put it simply," Waver said, fully turning to face the girl to get a better read, "No body, no crime. And with Zouken, I'd be willing to bet the man's corpse would turn into snakes or some variety of vermin upon dropping dead,"

Rin knew those words were spoken mostly because he was a transfigurist. Often, when they died, there was no evidence left. The body would evaporate. However, something about the way he said that last part was tinged with venom. Nobody liked Zouken, but Waver seemed to have a specific distaste for him. It made Rin feel slightly emboldened.

They stood there in silence, nearly identical thoughts passing through their heads.

"So, what you're saying is, if none of his loved ones come forward about his disappearance, nothing will come of it?" she asked dryly.

Waver nodded.

"Some of his values may be shared by many in our community, but Zouken is a relic even by their standards," Waver said, "I'd be willing to wager he doesn't exactly have any loved ones to come forward. Particularly now that Shinji is gone,"

Rin made eye contact with the other Magus. Another bout of silence. If there was any doubt before, now it had vanished.

Waver knew.

"Do you know the kinds of things he did to my sister?" she asked in a strained, harsh whisper, "The kinds of things he let Shinji do?"

She couldn't hold it in anymore. A part of her detected sympathy in Waver's boyish face. A distaste for everything Zouken was and everything he stood for. It allowed her to slip.

"No," he said, his own nerves feeling prodded by how their conversation had escalated, "But I can imagine,"

She looked away from him, casting her gaze downward as she shed a tear.

"Can you?" she asked bitterly.

Waver knew about the cruelty mages were capable of. He'd seen it first hand, but he knew what he didn't see, the more mundane evils and atrocities that lurked behind curtains and under the veil of normalcy… that was where true horror lurked. His mind harkened back to the atrocities he and Iskandar bore witness to in the Grail War alone. The dozens of bodies of children that Caster had murdered. He felt nauseous even thinking about it. The Grail War was an ugly affair for many reasons, but the worst of all is that it was an event that revealed the darkest parts of its participants. When the chips were down, when everything was on the line, it let people abandon any semblance of their humanity. Zouken Matou, a man notorious for his rumored cruelty, a man who had tried to win the war at least three times, had to be as rotten as any of them could've been. The world was a better place without him in it.

If only he knew that Rin had very nearly been one of Caster's victims.

He stepped closer to Rin, casting down a gaze of pity at the girl.

"Rin," he asked, voice tempered to be more gentle, "Tell me one thing,"

She wiped away the tears in her eyes, and nervously looked back at the man.

"Did you kill Shinji Matou?" he asked.

Rin hesitated, merely because that wasn't the name she expected to hear come out of his mouth. She shook her head.

"I didn't," she answered.

Waver faintly nodded. He had no affinity for the boy, especially because of the implications that he was no better than Zouken, but this one detail was vital.

"Then that's all I need to know," he said, faintly smiling.

Rin only looked confused.

"Why would-"

Waver turned around, grabbing his coat as he made his way to the door.

"As I said earlier, you aren't on the hook for anything," he said, "However, the higher ups wouldn't be thrilled if there were oversights. Especially if it had to do with one of your peers. A peer who was a shoe-in for admission at the Clock Tower. But since Shinji died in the conflict, and because Zouken was hardly involved, that's all there is to it,"

Rin could hardly believe it. Waver knew what she did and just… didn't care. She had let out far more information than she intended to, but made no intention of confessing if it came to that. But it didn't matter.

Waver opened the door, perhaps a bit too pleased with himself that he had done not the 'moral' thing, but the 'right' thing.

"You know, Rin," he said, "I'd learn to hold my tongue- or rather, at least develop a degree of subtlety when discussing secrets. Not everyone in our world is as forgiving as I am,"

"And… why is that, exactly?" she asked, fumbling in her confusion.

It took him a minute to parse what she was asking, exactly. However, he was fairly certain she was inquiring as to why he seemed to be keeping quiet about this little affair.

"Because like you, I've got a modicum of ambition. But I shouldn't," he said plainly.

"Shouldn't?" she asked, genuinely confused.

He turned around one last time.

"In a perfect world… or at least, a better one, people like you and I wouldn't have expectations burdening us at every turn. Working hard is all well and good, but you and I are ambitious for the same reason: because we know the world can be better. And because we both know we can help make it that way. We shouldn't have to possess this hunger for change, but someone has got to do something. The more people who see eye-to-eye with me on that, the better,"

He gave her a sly wink while she stood there, still processing his word.

"It helps to have friends in high places, and your trajectory, Ms. Tohsaka, is aimed squarely at the stars," he said, "When the time comes to demolish these useless, archaic, regressive tenants and beliefs our world is governed by, it will be quite advantageous to have as much of a united front as possible. After all, your name carries a lot of weight. Would be quite silly of me to punish someone who would prove to be a valuable ally,"

Rin hesitantly smirked. They had a lot more in common than she thought.

"Goodbye Rin. I'll keep in touch," he said as he exited.

Rin let out a shaky breath when the door finally closed. She hadn't expected to reveal her hand so quickly with that, let alone with someone as sharp as Waver. What was she thinking? She wanted to beat herself up for letting her guard down. She was far too nervous and simply had to know if the Clock Tower was going to investigate that. She had an internal desire to discipline herself for being so reckless. An instinct no doubt rendered into her from her childhood.

Instead, she only felt relief. She was safe. Sakura was safe.

It was the first time since the war's conclusion that she felt any modicum of peace. And with it, a burning desire rekindled in her thanks in part to Waver.

She didn't even know where to begin when it came to how she'd try and change the world, but that was something that was too far off to worry about now. Once she'd studied, grown, and attended school, perhaps then she could know enough to try and quash the system that had let corruption, arrogance, and injustice thrive for so long. A system that wholly captured her late father, blinding him so thoroughly that it led to his downfall. She had nothing but resentment for the Mage's Association. They had deprived her of a proper father, her sister, and had claimed the lives of her mother and uncle in some way or another with all this bloodline nonsense. Sooner or later, the old ways would implode spectacularly as all 'great' things did, and she wanted nothing more than to help with the demolition.

But for now, she still had a life to live, and for the first time, she actually had people to live it with.


Reines El-Melloi Archisorte read her adopted brother's report with a distinct lack of patience once she realized it yielded little of interest. She figured she would've learned something beyond broad strokes, or uncovered some kind of detail that would be advantageous to her. Alas, it did nothing. Well, that wasn't true, it did indeed confirm to her that Waver was useless.

Using him as a puppet of sorts when she bestowed upon him the title of Lord El-Melloi II proved to be a lackluster plan, seeing as he actually possessed a brain. She was his advisor, but nothing more, which greatly disappointed her. He was on his way to becoming head of the department of modern magecraft theory at this rate, which she hadn't planned on. There was no way that she could've worked her way up the ladder at only 19 years old, so trying to get a hapless-yet-talented stand-in for her family to carry out her whims was smart in theory, but her younger self had underestimated the degree to which the young man developed a spine. He still knew he owed her, seeing as he betrayed Kayneth the way he did, but her influence over him was limited. As a result, her family's sway in the Clock Tower was no greater than it was upon Kayneth's death. In the wake of the most recent Grail War, it seemed like she was not alone. The three noble families were all reduced down to the wire, all of them standing on par with one another.

She was looking to change that.

She sat in her dorm for hours, trying to think of a game plan. They were back at square one, but she knew her rivals were as well. Tohsaka would be coming to London in a little over a year, and with her the exemplary reputation her father once held. Being a Grail War survivor would additionally add brownie points to the girl. The other sister technically carried two titles, and would no doubt retain some of the power Zouken gave her once she recovered. The Einzbern hommunculus's daughter proved especially worrisome, as she was basically genetically engineered to be as powerful as possible. She couldn't help but think the elder Einzbern mage had intended for the mage-killer and her to fall in love so they'd produce an offspring full of potential. The Emiya boy seemed strong, which was a whole ordeal in and of itself. They all posed a threat to her, as she could easily shoot for becoming the dominant power in the magical community with the scales all being evened out, so to speak.

She had one thing the others did not, though. She had connections.

She stood up, grabbing her phone, and dialing a number she didn't expect to break out for a good while. It was a sudden, very peculiar idea that hinged on a lot of 'what ifs'- but Reines would not let an avenue go unexplored if it could possibly lead her down to victory. She had to restore her family name. She had to strike while the iron was hot.

The phone rang, and she tapped her foot impatiently. It was nearly 9 PM, and she didn't want her neighbor next door to come home and potentially overhear this. She needed as tight of a lid on this as possible.

She stared out her window at the London skyline. It was dark, dimly illuminated and dusted with snow. She thoroughly hated the cold, but it followed her everywhere. Nearly every place she'd ever lived had frigid winters and lukewarm summers, like the planet itself was trying to spite her. She couldn't deny the serenity of the aesthetic though. It had its charm. Though it was probably paltry compared to a warmer, South American island. Maybe once this was all over and done, when she finally had money again, she would move to some remote forgotten place and only come back here for business. How ideal!

The phone finally clicked. A gruff voice answered.

"Father Donovan speaking," a thick Irish accent present in his voice.

Reines put on her 'sweet' affectation, as she usually did with most business deals. She wasn't old enough to be taken seriously or considered a threat, even though she was certainly formidable. So she opted for outright manipulation instead.

"Hello Father," she greeted, "Reines El-Melloi speaking. I haven't caught you at a bad time, have I? Time Zones are simply not my strong suit,"

He chuckled.

"Reines, you caught me at as good a time as any. Old geezer like me isn't up to a whole lot these days," he said warmly, "How are you dear?"

Reines mother had been a devout Catholic later in her life, and as a result, had her daughter baptized. Father Donovan had been a man who worked closely with the Mage Association many times as a member of a spec ops unit that was meant to handle 'damage control' of unruly magical activity or hunt criminals. You would have never known it by looking at the red headed priest with an unkempt goatee and a delightful smile that he had one hell of a bodycount behind him. He'd retired at the age of fifty, and five years later, now lived about as ordinarily as one could. Reines couldn't understand why, seeing as he undoubtedly had both deep pockets and vast magical talent.

"I'm holding up well… for the most part," she said, intentionally leading the conversation in the exact direction she desired.

She was never one to waste time.

"Oh? Well that's no good," he said, "But, for some reason, I gather you didn't ring me for the sacrament of confession, did ya?"

She chuckled. She was fond of people who could get on her wavelength. She didn't have to put up a front with them nearly as much as she did with everyone else.

It had been a number of years since she'd seen the priest, but he was a family friend. She had her first sip of whisky from the man at a dinner party once, which everyone got a kick out of. He'd always been kind to her, as he did everyone, but he was no stranger to getting his hands dirty. Reines knew that much.

"You're correct, father," she said, "I actually have some questions that only a seasoned veteran such as yourself could answer in any real detail. Could you perhaps humor me?"

She heard the sound of liquid being poured into a glass. That man's liver had to be in awful shape.

"For you? Of course," he said, awkwardly clearing his throat afterwards, "I've heard about the fracturing your family has undergone in recent years. My deepest sympathies, truly. Having that weight on your shoulders at such a young age… tragic,"

In theory, it certainly was. Reines, however, saw it as an opportunity. She was unbound by the restrictions of guardians. She was leading the charge of her family, just using Waver as nothing more than a scapegoat. She didn't have to debate or disagree with anyone about what was best. It was free reign. She felt very little in terms of loss when it came to her few surviving family members dying. They were all in her way, and if they were more fit to lead the family, then they would've lived.

However, while she was unbothered, she was also a remarkable actress.

"Yes," she said employing a deliberate shakiness in her cadence, "It's been quite difficult, but I'm looking for some advice. Get us back on our feet, you know?"

"Naturally," he responded, "I'll do my best, though I can't believe I would know anything you wouldn't, little missy. I remember you having great academic prospects. Are you finally at the Clock Tower?"

Ugh, pleasantries. She knew he, and many other people, meant well when they engaged in them. However, she could never see the appeal.

"I am," she said, "About to begin my third semester, as a matter of fact. But this subject is a bit more in your area of expertise,"

He curiously hummed.

"Hm," he let out modestly, "Well, anything to help out someone in need,"

She was happy he was so compliant, and she knew she was putting on an act, but she also hated being referred to as 'someone in need'- it felt so utterly beneath her.

"What do you know of the Holy Grail?" she asked as a sort of umbrella question.

He awkwardly coughed after taking a sip of whatever he was drinking.

"Ah," he said with a slight nervousness, "I take it you're referring to the grail as a magical device and not as the cup that Christ drank from?"

"Is there a difference?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, yes and no," he said, "The Grail as you know it is more an abstract concept. It isn't the physical manifestation of that cup, but rather an emblem of significance. It's like an echo of the original artifact. Any tangible, physical item could never hold the divine power within it, so instead it willed itself into existence to contain itself. It's like a mobius strip, in a way, it's existence is justified by itself.

Interesting. That was actually something she wasn't aware of. It had always been a means to an end, its origins didn't concern her.

"I see," she said skeptically, "So, tell me, are you aware of the recent conflicts surrounding the item? The fourth and fifth Holy Grail War, specifically?"

There was a pause. There was definite apprehension in the air. She nearly cursed under her breath. Maybe being indirect and waiting for him to get a little more drunk would've been the better approach.

"But I know that the circles we run in are very tight-lipped about this sort of thing. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for my sake, regardless of how much I need it," she said.

That last bit would land her what she wanted.

"I don't mean to pry, but Reines, why would you want to know about such a thing?" he asked.

Bingo.

"Well, you see, I'm currently assisting the investigation regarding the events of the most recent Holy Grail war. My assistant sent me his report on what happened after interviewing the survivors. We're spearheading an effort to keep the grail from causing the destruction it has in the last two wars. So, hypothetically, we'd need to seal it away somehow. We don't know how you access it, so we also don't really know how to protect it," she explained.

It was as good a lie as any, and she knew the priest would sympathize with it.

"How noble of you, lass," he said, his voice returning to normal, "Well, I think I can divulge a little of what I know to aid you, even if it's admittedly not much,"

"Anything helps at this point," she said, underscoring her tone with a desperation that really sold her need, "It's been so unwieldy in the last few decades and there's just so little concrete information about it, or why it ends up leading to disasters,"

"Well, my dear, I do have a bit of a theory about that. I don't know too much more than your average high-ranking mage, but as a member of the church, I've been thinking about it a lot since the fourth grail war," he said with genuine investment, "Tell me, are you at all aware of the source of the grail's power? The reason it's able to manifest?"

"It being a holy relic isn't enough?" she asked.

He took another drink.

"It's about half of the reason. The other half is… well it's strangely scientific. You're familiar with alchemy, aren't you?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, trying not to sound like she was irritated that he'd even ask her that.

"Well, one of the core tenants of that science is that for something to be created or born, something of equal or greater value must be lost. Basic Newtonian stuff. So, in theory, a wish-granting device would need a lot of power, would it not?"

"Sure," she said, wanting him to get to the point.

"Well, it has to sacrifice something to retain its power. It is, by nature, parasitic. The mages and servants of the holy grail war are bound to it once the command seals manifest. See… my theory is that when they die, they become part of the grail. It uses them to retain it's monstrous power. It feeds off the most potent and elusive sustenance in the known universe: suffering,"

"Strange that a holy object would be so malicious," she wondered out loud, "What makes you think it would be so deliberate?"

He laughed.

"Well, again, it is mostly speculation," he explained, "But I think the Grail is more complex. Like the servants it summons, it is affected by history. Many people have sacrificed a lot to manifest the grail. Entire ancient cultures and religions were founded in the pursuit of that power. I think, somewhere along the way, the wanton suffering and despair caused by those trying to obtain it… infected it, in a way. Who knows how, but a pure, holy object would be tainted very easily,"

That was it.

"So… you're saying it's possible the grail is defective? And that's why the Grail Wars have been happening in closer proximity? It's unstable now?" she asked.

"Again, in theory," he said, "But my guess is that you're correct. It's a snowball effect, too. The more conflict and death the grail creates, the more maligned it becomes. It's like an infection, or a tumor. Destroying it would be… complicated. Maybe even impossible,"

There was a faint sense of panic in his voice at the end there. Understandably so. This kind of power was not something that could be easily suppressed.

"Well, that's why I'm here working with the Clock Tower," she said confidently, "Destroying it could be a foolish endeavor. However, if we knew how to access the grail, we could devise a method to lock it's power away. It would still exist and retain it's form, but we could seal it away so that it never harms anyone again,"

She was so convincing she nearly believed it.

"How noble," he said with a calmer tone, "Well, it's simple, really. Before, the Grail itself chose when it would appear. Every 100 years. Now that it's become unstable, it seems to happen whenever it feels like it. Which is troublesome, but I think there are ways around it,"

She couldn't help but grin.

"Ways around it?" she innocently inquired.

"I think that the alchemic principle applies to summoning the Grail as well. If you're able to provide a plentiful enough sacrifice, you could manifest it. However, it would still need a toll. If it were to be manually summoned, another Grail War would certainly ensue,"

Disappointing for sure, but not without hope. She could definitely win a Grail War.

In fact… she was certain she could. So certain that this became quite the opportunity.

"So, say the person conjuring the Grail was able to do so," she posed, "I was wondering, servants are often summoned because of an artifact in the master's possession that is specific to their history. Could the same principle apply to Masters?"

There was a brief silence, and she hoped it was just the slightly drunk priest trying to parse through what she was asking.

"You mean, could the summoner chose the masters?" he asked.

"Yes, exactly," she said with hope.

"I would think so, yes," he said, "The Grail is inclined to choose those who most desire or need it, so it can give way to more impassioned conflict, but in it's defective state, I would guess this is possible,"

That was all she needed. It wasn't impossible.

"Father, you've been most helpful," she said with a satisfactory smile, "I'm going to take this to my superiors and it will be invaluable,"

He chuckled again.

"Anything for you, Reines," he said before taking a final sip, "Do take care of yourself, okay? If you ever need me for any reason, don't hesitate to call. This Grail stuff is nasty business, I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, least of all you,"

The man's words were kind, but their intent on her was mostly lost.

"I appreciate that," she said, "I'll leave you to your evening. Thank you so much, I have a feeling this information will prove vital to our research. Even if it's false, it's another possibility to rule out,"

The two exchanged their final goodbyes, and Reines couldn't help but feel giddy upon hanging up. Finding out the Grail was most certainly defective was the best outcome. It meant she could exploit that weakness. But then there was the matter of sacrifices.

To summon the Grail… what exactly would it take?

She knew things were about to get worse before they got better. She was going to have to get her hands dirty, in some very unpleasant ways. She wouldn't dive headfirst into this, but she knew she had to act quickly. Some research on summoning arts, conjuration, and alchemy were where she'd start. After that, it was just a matter of what ingredients to gather.

Unlike many in her family, she wasn't afraid of that. In fact, so many of them had proved to be so comically useless that she had adopted a bit of a mantra to remind herself not to slip up, and to be self-reliant in every way she could:

If you want something done, you've got to do it yourself.