In his dream, Charles was an observer. He had no body to speak of. Was this what omnipresence felt like? He could taste rain, smell thunder, and above all, the crackling of electricity permuted the entirety of his being. In his dream, Charles could see two figures. One, the father, and the other, the daughter-to-be.

'It was naked save for the bandages that covered its extremities and the still-fresh wounds from the process of appendage grafting. However, it was not alive, not yet.

The mad scientist stroked its cheek, the cheek he had obtained from the corpse of the daughter of the town blacksmith. He caressed its arm, the arm he had separated from the corpse of a woman who had died of a brain tumor. He knew every single one of their names, every single one of their faces. To bring about mankind's ultimate good, he had to commit the unspeakable evil of disturbing the remains of the dead, but he had no regrets. To forget their faces and names would just be just as unforgivable as the act of robbing their graves itself.

It was justified. He was justified. It was a victimless crime, really. And one that would be all-too-worth the ethical debate.

"My magnum opus.. Da Vinci himself would be jealous of my work.. Only a few more parts left and you will be ready.."

"My beautiful Eve. My..."

"MASTER!"

Charle's eyes shot open from the dream of the dark laboratory to meet the sight of the sun rising over the hills. His head was resting on the frills of.. He turned his head slightly and found himself staring into the eyes of the girl he recognized to be his Servant, one blue, one yellow.

"Sa..ber..?"

Saber's worried expression broke into a relieved smile. "You're finally awake, Master. I was- Eh?"

Charles had already closed his eyes again and turned over. "This firmness.. It's definitely reminiscent of a human, not an automaton. How much is organic matter, Saber? At the least, it's enough to create an authentic-seeming 'lap pillow' experience."

Almost instantly, his face fell to the ground with the sudden lack of support. "I wasn't aware I'd drawn a deviant as a Master," Saber said. "I wouldn't be surprised if your qualifier was less about power than it was about who'd be the most attractive to you. Are all magus like you? And to think I was worried for your health. Tch." Saber had an expression of mild disgust.

Getting up, Charles made a placating gesture with his hands. "Just a little joke. My mother said jokes work well to quickly build rapport. More seriously.."

"Last night."

"Indeed. I feel a bit better now, but.. What was that? An enemy Servant?"

"I.. don't know," Saber admitted. "I think because I'm a Servant, I was able to stomach it more easily, but it shocked you out of your skin. I didn't want to risk it though, so I stood guard over you for three hours, until I was sure you weren't in danger."

"Is that so..?" Charles asked. He extended a hand out to Saber, who flinched, covering her face with her hands. What disturbed her more was when his hand landed on her hair, and started to rub.

"Mas..ter..? Why are you..?"

"You did good, Saber. Keep up that level of initiative and there'll be plenty more praise where that came from, y'hear?" He kept up the head rub for a few more moments, before flicking her horn and retracting his hand.

"I feel so well rested, too. That lap pillow was truly top class."

Saber cocked her head. "Thank you, then? I suppose?"

"Indeed, indeed. Looking back, I have a nasty feeling that attack wasn't meant for just me. I told Flat I wouldn't see him until the War was over, but we should check back in at the Clock Tower to confirm our suspicions. Ah, Saber, would you like to walk with me or return to spiritual form?"

Saber had a hand on her chin as she thought. "I would.. like to walk around during the day, if that's okay with you, Master."

"In that case!" Charles set his sights towards the most easily identifiable landmark- Big Ben, standing proudly against the last traces of night sky.

"We'll have to get you some civilian clothes, Saber."

"Master, are you sure about this?"

Charles hold the door of the tailor's open. 'Of course. You're my Servant, your appearance reflects on me above all else."

The tailor, a large German man named Klaus, was a trusted tailor of the Yarenes family. Klaus was barrel-chested and towered above even Saber, though his intimidating looks were in stark contrast to his frankly childlike nature. After a brief moment of discussion that was incoherent to Saber,

An hour and many sounds of struggle later, Saber and Klaus exited the backroom, the former looking thoroughly beaten.

"Impossible.. To think that I could be overpowered.. By a mere human.. Is he even human at all..?"

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Well? show us what you've got, Saber."

Saber nodded. "Of course!" Saber concentrated for a moment, then the wedding dress that she had been summoned in suddenly shifted in shifted in shade and make. It was an odd twist on the gothic lolilta style, black all the way down with green lacing at the hems. Wrapped around one of her thighs was an almost overly frilly green bow. Her metallic platforms were replaced with slightly more normal shoes, and her metallic horn and finns had seemingly vanished. She looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal, albeit slightly taller than average, young woman.

"I cannot deny they feel comfortable, but.. Is this truly necessary, Master?" Saber asked, inspecting herself.

Charles was about to explain the merits of concealing her identity before Klaus cut him off. "Beauty is vhat beauty does, mien frau! Even zhe most dangerous varrior is dressed to represent his King, and so too must a Heroic Spirit dress vell to represent zhe Master zhey represent!"

Saber thought over this for a moment. "Your logic is.. Sound enough. Your thoughts, Master?"

Charles grinned. "You're dressed to kill, Saber." He looked towards Klaus, calling across the shop. "Hey. How much do I owe you?" he asked, though, the tailor waved him off. "Mein work is like un work of art, Master Chah-lee," the German said, seeming offended at the question. "To put a price on it would make it cheap in comparison to the value it would otherwise hold. Perish zhe thought."

"Oh," Charles blinked, surprised. "Okay, then. Saber, we're going."

"Of course, Master!"

The two departed the shop and immediately set off down the sidewalk to the bus stop.

"We've had some fun, Saber, but now's the time for business," Charles said. "The people around here.. They're all walking around like they're in a daze."

"There's something seriously wrong." Saber agreed. "You'll be fine as long as you stay close to me, but without the Magic Resistance of a Servant.. Eh? What's this?" she asked as a bus pulled up.

"Oh, right. It's been a couple of years since you were last around, huh?" Charles mused. "Here, hop on. Just like that, take my shoulder if you need to."

Getting on the bus, Saber took a moment to steady herself as they started moving. "An automobile for the purpose of carrying tens of people at once.. Humans are so efficient!" Saber exclaimed, drawing some odd looks from other people on the bus.

Looking around nervously, Charles nodded, putting a hand on Saber's shoulder placatingly. "You're right, you're right. Maybe stay a little quiet for now, eh?"

The bus stopped right on front of the British Museum, the entrance of the Mage's Association's headquarters, but Charles still had one last thing to do before he went in.

"Wait, Saber."

The British Museum towered high above them, but Charles held his hand to block Saber's entry.

"No Servants beyond this point, that's an absolute rule. Wait for me out here, Saber."

Saber didn't seem to like the idea of leaving him vulnerable.

"But, Master-"

"That's an order, Saber." Charles faltered for a moment, before giving her a smile. "Cheer up. I still have an important job for you. Hold out your hand."

"...?" Saber held an outstretched palm out to her Master, who put a familiar vial full of mercury in it.

"I'll be back before you know it. In two minutes, open the vial. It'll take care of the rest."

"Understood, Master."

She sat on the steps that led up to the entrance, and after he was satisfied that she wouldn't move from that spot, Charles went inside.

The entrance hall of the Clock Tower was in complete disarray. Protective sigils barred his access until an administrator was satisfied that he wasn't a threat.

'Tch. I don't know anyone here. What the hell is going on?'

Fortunately, through the sea of people, Charles spotted a familiar head of gold straw hair.

"Flat!

The boy- it was Flat, Charles was relieved to see, turned and grinned, waving at him before he jogged over.

"Charlie, you're back! You remembered your promise- Wait." Flat suddenly turned pensive. "Is the Holy Grail War already over? That was quick."

Charles shook his head. "Afraid not. Your professor still around?"

Flat nodded. "Yeah, but he's super busy. Something happened while I was asleep and everyone's going nuts over it. Here, carry these and walk and talk," he said, dumping a large box full of magical instrumentals into Charles' hands.

"U-Uwot?! Fine, quickly, though."

"So, Charlie, did'ja summon your Servant? Is he cool? A genuine Heroic Spirit?" Flat asked eagerly. Charles hesitated for a moment, but came to a horrifying realization. If he could trust anyone here, in this hive of magi, it'd be the student walking beside him.

"Yeah. I did. She's a real beaut," Charles sighed. "Just a bit more work into her and I can make her shine."

"A girl? Charles, you sly dog!" Flat smirked. "Is she pretty? A queen? A warrior-queen? Complete with a rocking bod and a bad-ass sword? Eh? Eh?" Flat kept nudging Charles' rib until the latter stopped to stare him down.

"It's not like that, really!" Charles protested. "But.."

Flat only kept an eyebrow raised.

"Yes. She's very pretty. Why, you-!" Flat had nudged him one last time and taken off down the hallway, cackling maniacally.

"I thought it was implied that I wasn't going to be seeing you until the conclusion of the War," Lord El-Melloi II sighed. "And here you are… for what purpose exactly? Classes are cancelled today, but I'm still busy filing paperwork. Two students died last night, within ten seconds of each other."

That was it, no thanks for carrying the potentially explosive and definitely extremely heavy equipment into his office. No simple pleasantries, either. Charles had a gut feeling that the typical magus wasn't a very happy person.

"That's what I wanted to talk about, Lord. All of London was hit by a high-grade mental attack last night at once. If that's going to happen again, I need to know. If it was the Clock Tower's fault, I need to know even more."

El-Melloi II chucked, and Charles frowned in response. "What's so funny?"

"You don't watch the mortal news a lot, do you, Charles?" El-Melloi II asked, to which Charles blanched.

"You don't mean to say.."

El-Melloi II nodded. "Indeed," he said, flipping a flatscreen on. Charles figured the mortal invention wouldn't be found anywhere else in the Clock Tower, but he was grateful that El-Melloi II was so progressive. Immediately, he recognized three major nationalities- Chinese, American, and African, among the tens of other news stations. If his extralingual skills were still up to par, they were all saying the same thing.

"A worldwide phenomenon. Only fatalities seem to have occured in London and the surrounding areas, but that in itself isn't a good sign. The Britainian major leyline was majorly abused in three different points last night at around the same time, so the prevailing theory is-"

"-That a Servant is responsible." Charles finished.

"Indeed. We were going to track down the known Masters and.. question them individually, but since you're here..""

The door slammed behind Charles by itself and before he could blink, he soon found a scythe at his throat. "Now, now, Lord. Let's not jump to conclusions," he said as loud as he could without moving. He immediately felt a cold sweat trickle down his forehead.

"Now, now, Teach. We know him. Charlie's a stand up guy. Gray, how about you put the scythe down, and-" Flat started, only for a zipper to fly across the room and forcibly close his mouth. At that, he only crossed his arms, an unamused expression on his face.

"Jumping to conclusions is half of all magework. Is or is your Servant not responsible for last night's catastrophe?"

Charles shook his head. "No. I was successful in summoning Saber, and I'll be damned if I ever heard of a swordsman capable of that large-scale mental attack."

Silence.

"I swear on my name! On my mother's name!"

El-Melloi sighed. "Down, Gray. He's not the Master we're looking for."

The scythe retracted, and soon after did Gray.

"I guess now I know that at least on the Servants I'll be fighting won't be all that Heroic, huh?" Charles said dryly.

"Indeed. From today on, the Bounded Field around London will be tripled to prevent another attack like that leaking through to the rest of the world, but.. We don't know if it'll hold up against what is probably a Caster Class Servant. As they say, a quick War's a good War. Make sure you use Saber to get it over and done with without any more public incidents, Charles."

Charles nodded. "Of course, Lord."

When Charles left the Clock Tower, Saber bounded up the steps to meet him. "You were in there for a while, Master. Are you unharmed?"

Charles smiled. "Of course. We're all friends here. For a few days, at.. least…"

Saber raised an eyebrow, as her Master seemed to be looking straight past her. She turned around to see a slightly younger boy staring up at the two of them. She didn't know why, but she had a bad feeling about him.

Charles responded first. "Hey, little brother. What brings you here?" he said nonchalantly, as if he were asking him to pass the jam at the breakfast table.

James Yarenes laughed. "Charlie! What brings you here? Mother send you to support me in the War? Well, I'm sorry to say, but I don't think I'll be needing it-" His eyes went wide as he fully processed the existence of Saber, who had so far been standing between the two meekly.. "You couldn't be.. No.. No! You can't have!" he screeched, running up the steps.

"She's a- You were one of the three Masters!"

"Ah, so El-Melloi brought you up to speed," Charles said sheepishly, scratching his cheek.

"You- Saber was mine! You! Servant!"

Saber jumped. "Y-Yes?"

James displayed the Command Seals on his right hand, three hands branching outwards from the center of his palm.

"You are property of the Yarenes Clan, yes? Contract with me!"

Charles held back a giggle, but Saber looked genuinely offended. "I am my Master's contracted Servant, brother-of-my-Master. To ask me to break my vow- Have you no shame?"

James looked slightly perturbed, but he quickly regained his composure. "I'm sure you haven't been to the world of the living in a while, but I'll have you know looks can be deceiving. I have the results of generations of my family's teachings engraved in my heart, whereas your Master.. Well, quite frankly, he shouldn't be here at all. It'd be a tactical advantage and- well, you want to make a wish on the Grail, do you not?"

"A wish on the Holy Grail, huh?" Saber murmured. "Well, I would like to have my wish granted, but.. Master is the one who brought me into the world, and like it or not, I owe him. I appreciate the offer, but.. No, thank you."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Saber!" Charles laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close, much to her surprise. "Besides, Charles, you should still be doing well for yourself. You have a piece of the Round Table as your catalyst did you not? Surely you can settle for Lancer, or maybe even Rider or.. No, no, Berserker is beneath even you! We're pretty close already, can't you see? It'd be a bit mean of you to split us up all of the sudden when we just started bonding!"

James looked like he was ready to throw a punch. "Move out of my way, Charlie. And savor the time you have playing dress-up with your Servant while you can. Her days are numbered."

With that, he stormed off into the Clock Tower. Charles stayed silent until he was sure that his brother had left.

"I don't think he's happy with me."

Once again in London's West End, Charles had convinced Klaus to lend them the top floor of his shop for the duration of the War, on the condition that he could use Saber as a model for a few new pieces of his clothing line.

"I accept the conditions for your sake, Master, but.. Are your intentions as pure as you say?"

At that, Charles and Klaus only nodded in unison, a shared look of satisfaction between them. They'd both gotten what they wanted out of this 'transaction.'

"In today's terminology, this is called a 'win-win', Saber," he had said, though his expression betrayed the attitude of a young man who'd never gotten the opportunity to dress a beautiful woman up as he pleased before in his life.

"I'm aware of the phrase, but I'm not sure if it applies to- Eh? Master?"

Charles, his eyes closed, was spasming his fingers in a sort of mad game of piano. With a jerk of his wrist, a large puddle of liquid mercury leaped in through the nearby open window. It then floated upwards, revealing the metal instruments it was carrying, and then settled among them as a small silver cube.

"Sorry, Saber. I haven't been a hundred percent forthcoming with you," Charles said sheepishly, now back to normal. "As much as I love those guys at the Clock Tower, I didn't go just to have a chat."

"Master?" Saber asked, tilting her head quizzically.

"No, I came to get some tools we'll need to build your Noble Phantasm. A few tools I.. let's say, didn't have the needed capital to convince the Association to part with them. Oh, punch this as hard as you can for me, would you?" Charles asked, holding up a large sheet of metal.

"Are you sure, Master? I'm not even aware of my own strength." For what it was worth, Saber seemed genuinely concerned that she might accidentally skewer him.

"Don't worry about me, Saber. Let loose. Punch as hard as you can."

"If you say so, Master.." Saber took up a stance that didn't belong to any martial art that Charles had studied, and suddenly, her face turned wild. In the moment that she punched the metal, green sparks flew from under her clothes and sank into the metal.

"TORYAA!"

Her fist made impact with the metal, and it instead started displaying lines and lines of information. Information, Saber soon realized, about herself. "This is.. all me. What do you intend to use this for, Master?"

"Why Saber, improve upon my previous design, of course," Charles replied, using his free foot to nudge her blueprints onto the table.
"I was a fool for thinking the Grail could magick up a brand new sword for you, so I'll just have to make one myself. With some spit and elbow grease, we just might make this work."

Charles had forgone his usual dress clothes for a work smock, which made him look like a scientist that Saber knew. A little too much like a certain scientist she knew, Saber thought, the mental image bringing her a slight pang of sadness.

"Now Saber," he said, giving her what she now recognized as the usual insane grin that he got when he was feeling particularly confident.

"Let's see if we really can't create a Miracle."

SERVANT STATISTICS

CLASS: SABER

TRUE NAME: FRANKENSTEIN'S MONSTER

STATISTICS

STR: B+

END: C

AGI: C

MAN: C

LUK: A

NP: -

CLASS SKILLS

RIDING: E

MAGIC RESIST.: C

MAD ENHANCE.: E (C)

PERSONAL SKILLS

GALVANISM: B

OVERLOAD: C+

LAMENT OF FALSE. LIVING: C

(A/N: Chapter 4 over and done with. I'm going to try and keep chapters more focused in the future. Lots of small little scenes that I wanted to piece together during the leadup to the Grail War. I should really stop pre-emptively naming chapters before I write them, huh?
And to Amatsumi's question, subcategory Grail Wars are generally regarded as smaller Grail Wars that are started for no reason other than that magus want to dickmeasure or achieve a selfish wish. As this is a Grail War where a bunch of important magus families are coming together for the sake of a common goal, it's a little more formal, like the Heaven's Feel ritual.)