Hello and welcome to chapter 6! This was originally supposed to be the last chapter of the story, but since there were people who liked it, I'm gonna keep it going a little longer. Thank you for following this story, and my requester is very grateful too!

Regarding the matter of Lancer not killing a woman in his life raised by commenter Emer, I admit I'm not that well-versed about Cu Chulainn, but I took that part from the Type-Moon Wiki. I'm not sure if it's a Nasuverse thing, but as far as I know that line is accurate, so I will be keeping that part. Thank you for pointing it out, though!

Some readers have also pointed out that the Class Cards only have power one rank below their original in all parameters when Installed, so I might be mistaken about that. I haven't seen the side material that mentioned this and it wasn't on the wiki, so please forgive me for not knowing.

Sorry for making you sit through that. On with the story!

Surrounded by countless soulless copies, Emiya Shirou fell into despair.

He was, as many had once pointed out, just an ordinary human. He was a commonplace existence, buried in the sea of people that flooded the streets. He was not someone who stood out, nor was he a person of significance. All he had was the unbreakable will to chase a certain dream. A dream too grand for fools, and too impossible for the common man.

That dream, was to be a Hero of Justice.

His whole life, he worked endlessly for that dream. Never tiring and never relenting, he poured his entire existence into his one and only goal. He believed wholeheartedly in the impossible wish of saving everyone he came across. There were undoubtedly people who advised him against it, who told him that his wish would never come true, but their efforts were in vain.

After all, how do you save someone who desired to drown?

He was insignificant, and as such was weak. He was commonplace, and thus was incapable of attaining his goal. He was powerless, and so he was unable to defend those he wished to defend. He was powerless, and was ultimately unable to save anyone in his pathetic state. Cursing his own uselessness, the man called Emiya Shirou gave up the peace he would have found in death.

And with that, his dream came true. He was made a Heroic Spirit after his death, one capable of producing miracles to save humanity. He believed earnestly that he could save countless more lives with that power and, in a way, he did.

Desperately clinging to his dream, he had sought to end the war. He could still remember vividly the rivers of pulsating crimson, entangled in the rancid stench of death and metal. He walked through the bowels of Hell on Earth, pleading inside his heart for it to just end as he fought.

And when it did, so did his life.

He had sought the salvation of others, but not his own. He had sought the happiness of others, but not Emiya Shirou's. For a man so selfless it was painful to watch, it was only natural that his hands came to hold nothing.

He had not expected recognition. He had not expected recompense. He had not even expected gratitude for the things he had done, the sacrifices he had made. And indeed, none of those came his way; the only thing that he faced for his actions, was betrayal.

They named him the culprit. They called him the mastermind. Towards their savior who had braved the horrors of War to end it, they cursed his name. Towards the unsung Hero that was Emiya Shirou, they bore fangs of hatred.

And so the Hero of Justice hung, wronged by the very people he sought to save.

Even so, he held no resentment towards humanity. Even as he met his end painted unjustly as 'evil', he did not entertain hate. All he harbored in his heart was a firm determination – one that came to be shattered by the brutal hammer of reality.

He walked past the vermillion-stained wasteland, sprawled beneath an equally endless sky of burning rust. Even the warm glow was blocked out by a dense haze, which rose endlessly and enveloped the surroundings in its toxic shroud. Wisps of black smoke rose from the ground, obscuring any beauty in the scenery, if such a thing even existed in that space. This world – and everything it held and ultimately lacked – was all he had. Countless blades, all nameless and lifeless, littered the landscape, filling the dry earth beneath his feet. The all-too-familiar smell of rusted metal still lingered, haunting him, tormenting him. The thundering silence followed his every step, pounding in his ears and mocking him for the farce he had become.

He was, and always would be, a Hero. A Counter Guardian. A killer doomed to save humanity on the brink of annihilation by taking the lives of others. Bound by fate and cursed by destiny, he would forever have to stain his hands with blood – blood of the people he had wanted to save.

He killed over and over again, his spirit breaking with every merciless arrow fired. He took life after life, saving countless innocent people with every death he brought upon. He carved tragedy after tragedy onto his soul, all for the sake of 'saving' humanity. That was the life of a Hero – the life he had sought with all his being.

He had attained his all but impossible dream, and yet the one thought he had was:

I should never have become a Hero.

He had walked across uncountable battlefields, stricken with remorse and wrought with despair. He was undefeated, yet he had never once known 'victory'. Looking back on the Hell he had created with his own two hands, he saw neither triumph nor hope. Staring at the bodies he had rendered lifeless and limp, he understood. All he had ever created with those hands were soulless copies of weapons, etched across a landscape too sorrowful to behold. It was only natural that he would craft the same thing from living beings as well, leaving nothing but lifeless bodies in his wake.

The countless soulless copies littered the landscape, much like the swords in the world of his imaging. He had stood alone atop a hill of forgeries in that inner world, engulfed by loneliness and surrounded by tools of murder. Now in reality, he knelt upon a hill of death, wrapped in anguish and drowned in regret.

He wanted to cry. He wished to weep, to mourn, to grieve, but he could not; he had long since thrown away his weakness for his selfish ideals, and there was no going back.

Atop the mountain of corpses and ocean of blood, the Hero of Justice cursed his own existence.

"Archer!"

Snapping out of his daze, Archer turned to look at the girl he was carrying. Beautiful blue eyes bore into his own, searching his face for some sort of answer, their owner refusing to wait for a verbal reply. She had always been sharp, and he knew that if he did not play it carefully his Master would see right through him.

"What is it, Rin?" he asked defensively.

"You don't seem to be focusing on the task at hand," Rin said, almost in a reprimanding manner. "What's on your mind?"

"It's nothing," Archer replied. "I was just getting tired from carrying such a heavy load."

"Oh, is that right?" Rin asked, smiling sweetly. Even her tone was cheerful, which made her even more endearing to normal men, but that dazzling display somehow caused a chill to run down Archer's spine. "And what might that 'load' be, I wonder?"

"Don't worry about it," Archer said hastily. "I'll manage."

"Then stop daydreaming and focus!" Rin snapped. She was bossy as ever, though he knew it was to hide the faint blush surely creeping onto her cheeks. Despite her valiant efforts, Rin was still a tsun-

Hastily stopping himself before that thought went any further, Archer prevented himself from thinking that which must never be thought. One simply did not relate Tohsaka Rin to that forbidden word, she may not look it, but she could read minds, and the consequences if she found out were dire.

Before he knew it, he was smiling. Despite the situation, despite the hazy fragments of his dreaded past returning to him, simply being with the woman known as Tohsaka Rin made him feel at ease. Even after all he had gone through, she was still someone in whom he found solace.

Guess some things don't change, he thought to himself.

A familiar presence closed in, swift and deadly as it advanced towards them. Reaching out with both hands, Archer balled them into fists around thin air – until a pair of curved short swords materialized out of nowhere and into his grip.

The sound of clashing metal echoed through the night, followed by the high-pitched yelp of Rin as she fell on her rear, having been thrown off by Archer's sudden movements.

"Archer, what gives?!" she snapped, then went silent as she saw the reason with her own eyes.

"Sorry about that," Archer replied loftily. "But I just didn't have the luxury of time to set you down."

His tone was lighthearted, but his gaze was firm. Observing his assailant intently, he tightened his grip on his weapons. Unlike his opponent, whose weapon was hidden behind a wall of wind, his were on full display.

In one hand, a blade of hazy white. In the other, one of smooth black laced with red hexagons. They bore such simple designs, yet in his hands they felt more than just weapons. They lacked an awe-inspiring aura one would expect from Noble Phantasms, but as he wielded them they seemed to become part of his existence; despite clearly not being something holy or demonic, they truly felt like they represented him with their simplicity.

"Shall I engage, Master?" he asked, looking into the eyes of the blonde warrior before him.

Before Rin could reply, someone else entered their field of vision. For a moment, Archer believed that intruder to be someone else – someone he had clashed against not too long ago at the school. That blue outfit, along with that unmistakable crimson spear, surely belonged to-

"R-Rin-san?!"

Archer felt his eyes go wide. He had been expecting a man's voice, possibly expressing displeasure at having his prey stolen, but certainly not a small, silver-haired girl in revealing clothing. Not to mention he knew that face very well. Oh, how he knew that face.

Blinking blankly a few times as she absorbed the scene, Illya was silent as she tried to make sense of it. Rin was there, as she had expected, but the tall, dark man in the red cloak…

He's wearing the same clothes as Kuro, she thought.

"Stay back, Illyasviel," Saber told her. "It's dangerous. I will take care of-"

Before she could finish, she was interrupted by Shirou charging out of the house behind Illya, a frantic look on his face. Much like the young girl, he just stared at Archer for a few moments, before his mind returned to reality.

"Hold on, Saber!" he said, but it was already too late.

Kicking off the ground with enough force to induce a powerful gust of wind, Saber closed in on Archer, bringing down her invisible blade onto his shoulder. Stepping to the side, Archer brought up his white sword and deflected the blow, throwing off Saber's sense of balance. Without pause, he leaned forward, swinging the black blade towards her mid-section-

In a shower of sparks, his weapon was parried by the solid wall of wind in Saber's hands. Breaking her fall by bringing forward one foot and stomping onto the ground, Saber countered Archer's blow, drew her sword back, and thrust it at his chest. The recoil from her counter had created the tiniest of openings, which no human could exploit, but Saber managed it.

They were Servants, with abilities far beyond human limits. No magus or fighter could keep up with their movements by sight, much less step in to intercept.

No magus, except for maybe one girl.

"Wait!"

A loud clang resounded, and the crimson tip of Gae Bolg pushed aside Saber's unseen blade, causing it to merely graze Archer's shoulder as it passed. Withdrawing her weapon and stepping back, Saber readjusted her stance as she glanced at the girl who had intervened. She may not have known it, but Illya stopping her attack had been mostly luck; she had been unable to perfectly keep up with their speed, and had stepped in late merely hoping to put her weapon in between them. While the outcome was somewhat different from what she had expected, Illya still sighed in relief.

"What is the meaning of this, Illyasviel?" she demanded. Illya stood between her and Archer, and she was facing Saber and not the enemy. "They are our enemies! Why would you defend them?"

"Y-you've got it wrong!" Illya replied. "Rin-san's not an enemy! And besides, none of this is making any sense! Let's just… talk this through!"

"Now is hardly the time for-" Saber began.

"Hmm, I see."

Speaking in a calm and collected manner, Rin dusted off her clothes as she looked at Shirou – or, more specifically, at the three marks that had appeared on the back of his hand.

"So you're the seventh," she mused. She then cast a questioning glance at Illya, who was still in her Lancer Install form.

"T-Tohsaka?" Shirou blurted out.

"Good evening, Emiya-kun," she said courteously. "And you… I don't know who you are, but I suppose I owe you a 'thank you' for saving my Servant."

"W-what're you talking about, Rin-san?" Illya asked. "It's me, Illya! I-"

She stopped abruptly, as a possible explanation surfaced in her mind. It was a thought she had entertained not too long ago, and one she more or less knew to be the truth now.

She's the Rin-san from this parallel world, she concluded.

"It seems like some explanations are in order," Rin sighed. "For now, could you please tell your Servant to put her weapon down?"

"A knight would never lower their weapon in front of an enemy," Saber said immediately.

"H-hold on, Saber," Shirou said. "I don't think they're our enemies either. Let's just listen to what she has to say."

Saber did not change her stance by even an inch. She kept her gaze locked with Archer for a few minutes, before the red Servant broke eye contact and lowered his swords, which faded back into nothing.

"As you can see, I'm now unarmed," Archer pointed out. "Would it be acceptable for an honorable knight like yourself to cut down a defenseless man?"

Saber hesitated for a little longer, but relented in the end and lowered her weapon. Heaving a sigh of relief, Illya relaxed as well, unaware that Archer was staring at her from behind.

Explanations are in order indeed, he thought.

Emiya Shirou was, in every sense of the word, confused. Seated at a table with a twin-tailed supposed magus, a blonde knight who was apparently some magical being, an invisible red-cloaked warrior who made him feel uneasy for some reason, a talking stick and a silver-haired fighter girl, he could not help but feel that he was the odd one out. Not because of his lack of knowledge or ability (though truthfully he could not say he was well-versed in any of this either), but because he was probably the only normal person here.

"Um…" he began nervously. "So I'm supposedly a 'Master', and I have to win this thing called the 'Holy Grail War'?"

"That's the gist of it, yes," Rin replied calmly. "As for a more detailed explanation, there's someone else who can fill you in. For now," she added, turning to Illya. "I'd like to know who you are and why you have my Mystic Code."

As far as she knew, that floating wand was supposed to be sleeping in her basement collecting dust, not going around dressing little girls in suggestive clothing. She may be wearing normal clothes now, but after seeing her in that… 'outfit', Rin had her doubts about the girl's sense of shame. Or sanity as a whole.

"I-I'm Illya," Illya introduced. "I-Illyasviel von-"

"I'm not some personal belonging of Rin-san!" Ruby burst out suddenly. "I've long since formed a contract with Illya-san and have sworn allegiance to her cuteness! I won't fall back into your evil clutches!"

Rin raised an eyebrow.

"R-Ruby, why're you getting so worked up?" Illya whispered worriedly.

"Of course I'd get worked up!" Ruby replied, her tone oozing with mirth and excitement. "Do you know where this is, Illya-san? There could be another me to fight here! Isn't that exciting?!"

"Er, no, not really…"

"And are you sure you should be taking it so lightly?!" Ruby said, pointing one of her wings at Illya, curling two of the feathers and pointing the last one like an index finger. "Do you understand the predicament you're in?!"

"H-huh?" Illya backed away a little. Ruby was quite scary when she was like this, not to mention uncontrollable. "What do you mean?"

You're surrounded by competition!" Ruby exclaimed impatiently. "Your beloved onii-chan is in grave danger of being stolen from you by thieving cats! Does that not worry you?!"

"W-what're you talking about?!"

"Look at him!" Ruby said, pointing at a dumbfounded Shirou. "He doesn't just resemble him physically; that socially awkward aura, that dense-looking expression… He's the very mirror image of the brother who fills your life with roses and rainbows!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about and it feels like you just said something very rude!"

"Are you really not afraid of the competition?!" Ruby went on, clearly enjoying Illya's reaction. "While it's true that a twin-tailed tsundere hag and a foreign washboard ahoge aren't particularly dangerous competitors, they can still potentially win the heart of your onii-chan if you let your guard down!"

Illya would have replied, but the dangerous vibe emanating from Rin completely shut her up. Her eyebrow raised so high it was in danger of disappearing into her hair, the Tohsaka magus had a slight smile tugging at her lips, but the corners of her mouth were twitching. Even Shirou edged away from her a little.

Archer was torn between laughing and finding a nuclear shelter to hide in. Under the argument that with three fighters gathered together, there was no need to keep watch, he had joined in on the discussion intent on getting some answers, but this was getting out of hand.

"Emiya-kun, Emiya-san," Rin said in a sweet, gentle tone. "Do you mind if I smash that stick to smithereens?"

"Master, I too would like to partake in the destruction of that accursed object," Saber added. She was calm, but her eyes were blazing with fury. "I feel that I have just been ridiculed, and that it has defiled my honor as a knight. I cannot let this stand."

"Wait, Saber!" Shirou said hastily as Saber rose to her feet. "L-let's not fight amongst ourselves!"

"T-that's right!" Illya added, grabbing Ruby. "Ruby, I need you to keep quiet before we all die! Read the mood a little!"

"Tch," Ruby hissed. "You really don't know how to play along, Illya-san…"

"I tend not to when my life's at risk!" Illya retorted.

"Well, that aside," Rin said, maintaining her air of dignity (though she was still shooting occasional dirty looks at Ruby) and composure befitting of a Tohsaka magus. "It doesn't look like this is the same Mystic Code I have; you don't seem like someone who could break into my home and escaping undetected anyway."

"Um… Thank you?" Illya asked uncertainly.

"I wasn't praising you," Rin said flatly, making the small girl whimper. "But from the looks of it, you and your brother seem to share the same bad luck when it comes to magecraft…"

"Oh, she's not my-" Shirou began.

"Master," Saber said loudly, cutting across him. "I believe that is enough idle chatter. Rin mentioned that there is someone else who can fill you in on the details of the Holy Grail War. We should go see this person at once. Further explanations about you and Illyasviel can wait until after that."

Shirou stared at her for a moment, then he understood. Regardless of how things were now, Rin was still an enemy in Saber's eyes. There was no need to correct any misunderstandings she had, and Illya's identity – which Saber seemed to know – should be kept a secret from potential foes.

"I-I understand," Shirou nodded. "But before that, could you stop with the 'Master' stuff? You can just call me 'Shirou'."

"Shirou," Saber repeated. "… Yes, that would be preferred. I shall call you that from now on."

"Great," Shirou replied, blushing a little. He just could not help it; she was a beautiful woman after all.

Illya, watching their exchange from the table, felt a pang of jealousy towards the blonde. Even if she was their ally now, and Shirou was not actually her Shirou, it did not give her the right to seduce him.

"All right then, let's go already," Rin said irritably. Saber's response was only to be expected, but with Shirou's inexperience, she had expected to get some useful information out of them before going to see the bogus priest. Guess that hope was out the window now. "It's almost two in the morning; he may be a shady person but even he sleeps from time to time. Probably."

Out of sight in his astral form, Archer wanted to sigh. He still lacked answers and, while he too thought that further talk was pointless with this group of buffoons, he could not help but feel disappointed.

And at the same time, he could not stave off the incoming wave of unease.

"Um… Saber… san?"

Turning around at the mention of her name, Saber looked at the tiny girl that was Illya as she fidgeted nervously with the hem of her skirt. She was behaving shyly, which was the complete opposite of just a while before when she was attempting to kill her. She actually looked even smaller now, though the white shirt and normal-looking skirt (from her school uniform) were improvements compared to her 'combat attire'.

"What is the matter?" she asked. "If you are looking for Shirou, he is in his room changing."

"N-no, I wanted to talk to you, actually," Illya replied meekly, refusing to meet Saber's eyes. "I… I have something I've got to say to you."

Saber, unable to tell where this conversation was going, kept silent and waited for her to continue.

"That is… Um… I-I'm sorry!" Illya apologized, bowing her head to the Servant.

Saber blinked once. Twice. She just could not think of what to say.

"Illyasviel?" she said. Or questioned. She was not quite sure.

"I attacked you thinking you were the enemy," Illya said. "You didn't mean any harm but I didn't believe you and… I called you a liar. I…"

Finally understanding her intentions, the surprise instantly vanished from Saber's face, replaced by a gentle smile. Illya's words trailed off, eventually becoming inaudible mutters as she kept her head down.

"Please raise your head, Illyasviel," Saber said. "I understand that you were merely acting to protect Shirou and had no vile intentions. As such, I bear no ill will towards you. There is no need for you to apologize."

"B-but-"

"There is no need for you to feel any guilt," Saber assured her. "Your actions and bravery should be something you can be proud of. So please raise your head; that expression does not suit you."

Slowly, Illya raised her head, only to find that Saber was smiling at her. That smile was ever so slight, but it was unbelievably warm and reassuring. It reminded her of her mother.

"I promise you that I will protect you and Shirou with this life of mine," Saber said. "As I have sworn to Irisviel before and Shirou in this War, I will defend the two of you from any enemy. Let us work together and emerge victorious."

"Y-yeah!" Illya replied. She was starting to see why Shirou was so captivated by her; she was just so… charismatic. "I look forward to working with you, Saber-san!"

She extended her hand for a handshake, which took Saber by surprise for a moment. Although somewhat taken aback by the gesture, she reciprocated, taking the small girl's hand in her own.

"The pleasure is mine, Illyasviel," she said. "And please, just 'Saber' will suffice; honorifics are unnecessary."

"Um, about that…" Illya muttered. "Could you call me 'Illya' instead? My name's kinda long, so my friends just call me that for short."

"… I understand," Saber replied. "If that is what you wish, I shall call you by that name from now on. Illya."

The smile on Illya's face was so radiant Saber herself smiled a little wider. The child was innocent, cheerful, albeit with a little stubbornness – exactly like how she remembered the Illyasviel von Einzbern from ten years ago.

She truly is your daughter, Irisviel, she thought.

Kirei resisted the urge to sigh. He already knew that Servants – or rather, Heroic Spirits in general – had a peculiar obsession with fighting strong opponents. When they found someone they deemed 'worthy', they would willingly give up their victory in the long run just to have a bout. Lancer was no exception to that irrationality- or it might be more accurate to say that he was even more irrational than that.

If the average Servant was stubborn, then Lancer was the epitome of that 'quality'. He was the kind to not back down even when he was losing – a trait he showed off ever so briefly when Kirei had taken care of his previous Master. If not for a Command Spell, Lancer would have gone wild at the school and against Saber. While he cared not for the Servant's well-being, Kirei simply did not want to be inconvenienced by the loss of his scout.

"You seem to be in a bad mood," he said, almost cheerfully.

"You bet I am," an irritated voice echoed throughout the empty church. Materializing out of the darkness, Lancer glared at his Master as the latter kept his back turned to him. "I've had to walk away from two battles now because of your 'tactics', so yeah, I'm pissed."

"Worry not, Lancer," Kirei replied. "It's all for our victory in the end. You do wish to win, do you not?"

"Yeah, I want to win it," Lancer spat. "But if that means acquiring it after everyone else has killed each other off, then I don't want it; that's not winning – that's just a worthless handout."

"There is no need to make a fuss," Kirei said. "You will get your chance soon. Charging blindly into battle without a plan is the height of foolishness, don't you agree?"

"Yeah, yeah," Lancer said dismissively. He knew talking to Kotomine Kirei was a waste of his breath, and was starting to doubt his own sagacity in trying to reason with him. "Just make sure you show me you're motivated to do this before my patience runs out, Kotomine."

His physical form disappeared, but his seething anger most certainly did not. Filling the small space and coiling around Kirei, it threatened to crush him with its pressure. While it was easily enough to make any normal man shake in his boots, Kirei merely scoffed and paid it no heed.

"Now, then…" he muttered. "I guess I should prepare to welcome some guests."

"Is Saber not coming in with us?"

Stopping just outside the entrance to the church Rin had brought them, Shirou turned to look at his Servant. Saber stood outside the gates like a guard, and it looked like she had no intention of budging from that spot.

"Well, maybe it's because this is the mediator's place," Rin shrugged. "The church is a neutral place, so Masters aren't supposed to get hostile here. Sending familiars to observe this place is also forbidden, so needless to say Servants aren't allowed either."

"I never knew there was a church here," Illya wondered aloud. "I wonder what sort of person the priest is?"

"He's a hedonistic prick," Rin said immediately, a look of disgust on her face. "And don't think he's religious either; he's a true blue false priest."

"E-er…" Illya mumbled uncertainly. The look in Rin's eyes and her tone reminded her of the Rin she knew whenever she spoke of Luvia, except it felt more… serious.

Following Rin in as she pushed open the doors, Illya found herself no longer able to think about things like that. The moment she stepped into the church, the air changed, making it feel like she was walking in water even though nothing appeared out of the ordinary. It almost felt like the inside of the church was a space separated from the rest of reality entirely.

"After turning down my many invitations, you decide to turn up with some interesting guests."

Standing at the far end of the room was a tall man draped in black, whose figure almost melted into the darkness around him. Had he not spoken, Illya might not have noticed him standing there at all.

"So, I take it that he's the seventh, Rin?" the priest asked, glancing at Shirou and the marks on his hand. Then he turned to look at Illya. "And who might she be?"

Illya instinctively backed away from him. She was not sure why, but the moment he stepped into the moonlight and exposed his face, she felt a strong sense of danger assaulting her. The man had done nothing – he did not show expression or even move; all he did was look at her briefly and ask a common question – and yet she still found herself wanting to run away.

"Well, I guess I should introduce myself first," the priest said. "I am Kotomine Kirei, the mediator of this Holy Grail War. What is your name, seventh Master?"

"Emiya Shirou," Shirou replied hesitantly. "And she is-"

"I'm his sister," Illya cut in. "I-I'm Illya."

"Emiya…" the man called Kirei ruminated. "I see. And you, young man – I presume you are the Master of Saber?"

"Yeah, I made a pact with her," Shirou replied. "But I don't know anything about this Holy Grail war business. If a Master's supposed to be magus of some sort, then you've got the wrong guy. You should probably pick someone else."

"I see," Kirei muttered. "This is serious indeed."

"He's a complete outsider as far as this is concerned," Rin added. "As for the girl, I don't know what to make of her yet, so fill them in on this from the very beginning."

"Very well," Kirei replied easily. "This is the first time you've sought my assistance, after all."

Rin turned away at that comment, looking rather disgruntled. Illya would have thought about how she resembled the proud Rin-san she knew, but she was distracted by Kirei walking towards them.

"Emiya Shirou," he said. "I regret to inform you, but the status of being a Master cannot be yielded to another. Once conferred, it isn't something which you can walk away from. You can think of this as a trial you've been chosen to undergo, and until you see it through to the end, you will not be free of it. That is what it means to be in the Holy Grail War."

"So I've gotten myself into a seven-way battle where mages try to kill each other?" Shirou asked, a more serious look donning his eyes. It took Illya by surprise; she had never seen her own onii-chan make that face before.

"It is a ritual to select the one who is worthy to hold the Holy Grail," Kirei replied.

"U-um," Illya spoke up, causing everyone to turn towards her. She instantly regretted opening her mouth as Kirei shifted his attention towards her, but what was done was done. "B-by Holy Grail, do you mean that Holy Grail? The one that appears in anim- I-I mean, the one that appears in legends and myths? Is this thing… the real thing?"

She had been told that the Holy Grail was no more, and that no more war would occur over it. The reason Kuro had been created was for that absurd ritual, which in this parallel world was apparently not stopped. Who, then, was the 'Kuro' in this world?

"The Grail that appears in this town is indeed the genuine article," Kirei replied, unperturbed by her nervousness. "As proof, there is the exceptional miracle that is the existence of Servants. A Holy Grail capable of this can surely grant its holder limitless power."

"T-then why do the Masters have to fight each other?" she asked. She was no magus, and she was not even an adult, but even she could see that something that powerful could surely be shared amongst everyone. "Wouldn't it be better if everyone just used it together?"

"A fair opinion," Kirei said flatly. "However, only one may claim the Grail. It is not us who decided this, but rather the Grail itself. This is all the work of the Grail; it selects its true owner by having the Masters fight to win it. That is the Holy Grail War."

"I can't just accept that," Shirou said. "I don't see why the Masters have to kill each other just for something like this."

"Hold on, Emiya-kun," Rin interjected. "We don't necessarily have to kill each other."

"It's a fight to the death," Kirei said calmly. The way he attached no emotion of any sort to the topic of death unnerved Illya.

"You hush, Kirei!" Rin snapped. "Listen, Emiya-kun. The Holy Grail in this city is a spiritual object, and since it's intangible, we cannot touch it; only spiritual beings like Servants can. The point of the Holy Grail War is to get rid of all the other Servants, so it's not necessary for you to kill the other Masters as well."

So Servants are spiritual beings? Illya thought. Then if I used the Caster Card's Include, I could defeat them a lot faster! I could-

She paused. She had never tested the Caster Class Card's Include before, so how did she know what it could do? The card's abilities should have been a mystery to her, but she was somehow able to recall what it could do. Did it have something to do with those periods of time where she just blanked out?

"Emiya Shirou," Kirei spoke up once more, breaking Illya's train of thought. "I ask you, do you think you can defeat your Servant?"

"What?"

"Servants are difficult to defeat, even with a Servant of your own," Kirei went on. "So if that's the case, what will you do? It's simple, is it not? Regardless of how powerful the Servant is, it will vanish alongside its Master when the latter dies. In which case…"

"… Killing the Master is the faster way," Shirou finished, albeit reluctantly.

"Exactly," Kirei nodded. "And even if a Master loses their Servant but remains alive, they still possess their rights as a Master as long as their Command Seals exist. In other words, should there be another Servant without a Master, it can rejoin the battle by forming a pact with this Master who lost their Servant. It is for this very reason that Masters seek to kill other Masters."

"Then what if I use up all my Command Seals here?"

Both Rin and Illya turned to stare at Shirou for his declaration. They were half expecting it to be a joke, but there was not a modicum of humor in Shirou's eyes as he said those words.

"Indeed, your rights as a Master would be lost," Kirei said, nodding. "However, I cannot imagine a mage using magic as powerful as a Command Seal so wastefully. If they were to, they would be merely a coward, nothing more.

"If you wish to withdraw from the War, you are free to do so," Kirei added, chuckling a little at Shirou's agitation. "Simply use up your Command Seals and break your contract with Saber. If you do so, I shall guarantee your safety until the Holy Grail War's end."

"Why would I need you to guarantee my safety?" Shirou retorted.

"I was dispatched here to oversee this cycle of Holy Grail Wars," Kirei answered. "Safeguarding mages that are no longer Masters are my top priority."

Wait a minute, Illya thought, a strange chill running up her spine. Did he just say 'this cycle'…?

"H-hang on," Shirou said, as though he too had suddenly realized something important. "You said 'cycle'… Is the Holy Grail War not something that was started just now?"

"This is the fifth one," Kirei said loftily. "The previous one was ten years ago, so this is the shortest cycle yet."

"This thing has happened four times before now?" Shirou gasped.

"Yes," Kirei answered calmly. "Each time, the Holy Grail War has grown still more brutal. Driven by their own desires, Masters have engaged in indiscriminate slaughter."

"T-then what if the Grail went to one of the bad guys?" Illya asked timidly.

"It is beyond our abilities to stop someone from being chosen by the Grail," Kirei said. "It is, after all, an omnipotent wish-granting chalice. If that thought irks you, you merely have to win it yourself. Of course, since you don't appear to be a Master, it is up to that young man over there. That is, if he does not relinquish his rights as a Master right here."

"I…" Shirou muttered. "I have no reason to fight."

"Shirou…" Illya stared at her brother-not-brother, unsure of what to say. As much as she did not want to be in this crazy battle, she could not just sit by and watch it all from the sidelines either. Shirou was right; they had no reason to fight, but could they just abandon it like it had nothing to do with them, even if it really was just that?

"So you have no interest in what the Grail's holder does, even if disaster is the result?" Kirei asked. "Well, it is of no matter to me. If you have no reason to fight, then it is fine. Then I take it you also have no interest in the events of ten years ago?"

"Ten… years ago?"

"Yes," Kirei said. "At the end of the previous War, an unworthy Master touched the Grail. I know not what that Master wished for, but we can only see the aftermath of the resultant disaster."

"Wait a minute," Shirou gasped, his face going deathly pale. "Are you saying…"

He did not continue, but Kirei nodded regardless.

"That's right," he said. "The New Fuyuki fire, with the cause still unknown, was the aftermath of the Holy Grail War."

"S-Shirou!"

Stepping forward to catch her brother as he almost collapsed, Illya helped push him to his feet. He had a look in his eyes that she had never seen before – it was a haunted look that did not belong on the face of Emiya Shirou, and an expression that would never find its way into Illya's life. At least, not before her life had been turned upside down by magic.

This person… is not onii-chan, she could not help but think. He's… traumatized.

"Y-you said that this is the fifth one, right?" Shirou asked, standing a little firmly. The look of fear did not vanish from his face, and Illya could not help but edge away from him a little; the Shirou he knew would never wear an expression like that. It was just so wrong. "Has anyone ever won the Grail before?"

"One man did indeed hold the Grail, albeit briefly," Kirei replied. "However, nothing happened to him; that Grail did not achieve completion, and as a result of that foolish man letting sentiment get the better of him… In any case," he added, "Simply causing the Grail to appear is simple. Once the seven Masters are gathered, it will appear in time. As Rin says, it's not necessary to kill the other Masters. However, unless you do so, the Grail will not be complete. It chooses its rightful wielder, and that was why that man, who avoided fighting, did not win the Grail."

"Hmph," Rin scoffed. "In other words, if you don't finish off the other Masters, the Grail is meaningless. It just means the Master who got his hands on it in the last War was weak."

For reasons unknown, Illya could not bring herself to agree with Rin's assessment. While it seemed logical and was probably right, she just could not agree with it.

"That's all I have to say," Kirei concluded. "Whether or not you decide to participate in the Holy Grail War, let us decide it here, Emiya Shirou."

The room went silent, as every pair of eyes rested on the boy with auburn hair. For what felt like hours, the man called Emiya Shirou did not speak.

"Rejoice, young man."

Pausing in their tracks as they proceeded to leave the church, Shirou turned to look at Kirei, who had made that odd statement.

"Your wish will, at last, come true," he said. "Surely you've realized it, but your wish cannot come true without a clear and distinct evil. Even if you refuse to admit it, a hero of justice must have an evil to defeat."

"That's not… true…"

For the briefest of moments, Kirei looked surprised. It was not the denial of what he had said that surprised him, but rather the person who had uttered those words.

"That's just… wrong," Illya muttered. "A hero shouldn't be someone who wishes for evil; he's someone who protects others. Even if there's no evil, you can still become a hero of justice! To wish for evil just to become a hero is just… it's just wrong…"

Feeling a soft hand on her head, Illya looked up in surprise. Shirou patted her head gently, giving her a reassuring smile as he ushered her along. It was a wordless exchange, but there was much gratitude words could not express in there.

"Shirou, have you concluded your business here?" Saber asked as they stepped out of the gate.

"Yeah," Shirou replied. "And I… I've decided to fight as a Master. Will you consent to that, Saber?"

"My consent is irrelevant," Saber smiled. "From the start, you have been my Master. Did I not swear that I would be your blade?"

"Right," Shirou said, holding out his right hand. "Then I shall become your Master. I'm counting on you from here on out."

Saber looked at his outstretched hand in mild surprise, and then proceeded to take it in her own.

"You truly are siblings," she said.

"Huh?"

"No, it's nothing," Saber replied. "Allow me to renew my vow. So long as the Command Seals reside with you, I shall serve as your blade, Shirou."

"What's with this overly dramatic turn of events?" Ruby asked, floating between them. "Is this the manner in which knights court their targets? How sly~"

"Ruby! Read the mood!"

"Oh my, there's no need to be embarrassed, Illya-san," Ruby replied. "You won't lose in any form of appeal, not with my help in the costume department-"

"I thought I told you not to bring that up!"

Rin sighed. Being with this rowdy group of morons was going to shorten her lifespan. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, another person's voice cut sharply into her thoughts.

"Hey, are you done chatting?"

It was a very familiar voice. In fact, it was the voice of the silver-haired girl in front of her right now, arguing with her overly talkative Mystic Code. However, there were two things off about it: one, it sounded far more cold and humorless.

And two, it had come from behind her.

Whipping her head around, Rin only barely managed to capture the appearance of Illya in different clothes before her attention was robbed by the hulking giant beside her.

"Now then," Illyasviel said with a smile that resembled nothing of Illya's. "I guess I'll kill you now."

Rin was beyond worrying about the girl looking like Illya. At this point, she was rooted with fear, completely intimidated by the mass of muscle and bloodlust that was Berserker. It was a monstrosity beyond human understanding, and she was not sure if the Servant itself had ever been human at any point in its life. How was she supposed to kill something like that?

"Get them, Berserker."

Kirei sighed. He knew that Masters were generally people who did not bother with rules, but to fight right outside the church was certainly a first. Not that he cared, since he was breaking the rules himself.

"Lancer," he called out.

"What?" Lancer snapped irritably, manifesting himself in front of him. "You want me to 'observe' some more? It's happening right at your doorstep; do it yourself."

"I think not," Kirei replied. "I do not know what that young girl is, but it would not do if the vessel for the Grail is destroyed."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"I want you to secure the young girl," Kirei replied smoothly. "You can kill her if you have to, but keep the heart; I don't want her to be smashed to pieces by Berserker."

"Such a heart of gold," Lancer said, his every syllable dripping with sarcasm. "Well, whatever. I take it that means I can join in the fight this time?"

"Do as you deem fit," Kirei replied.

Lancer said nothing, and instead headed for the door. Even though he would never admit it outright, for that one moment, he was actually thankful for the opportunity to join in the War.

Looks like I might be getting in on the action after all.

To those who still remember it, I altered the frypan thing from Chapter 3. It finally irked me too, and now it's gone for good, so you can go give it a look if you want! It's not much of a change, but hey.

Oh, and if you think the story's following the original right now, brace yourself for the next chapter where things really start to… diverge.