Ah, sixteen, the number four squared. In eastern cultures its long been associated with death and disaster, and it shows if you read the right video game, show, and so forth. Well, multiple that omen by four and sixteen is what you get. But that's enough trivia, onto the story!

I do not own anything.


Fox Tails and Whirlpools

Chapter 16 - Bad Moon Rising


It was the tickling of the wind against her cheeks that woke her up. Ryūzetsu felt inclined to continue sleeping, darkness seemed so much more preferable to reality. So far, reality had been nothing but cruel to her.

"You are NOT going to take this child!" The black-skinned man had roared standing defensively before her against the group of armed jonin and chunin. Damon's hand were stained with blood as was his face from the countless surgeries he'd had to perform. Sweat dripped down his forehead while his eyes glared daggers at the men before him.

He hadn't been alone, Karin was standing in front of her, defensively holding her wakizashi. Nobody dared mock the idea of her drawing it as the redhead had already proven her willingness to use force to protect her friend.

Sadly, it wasn't enough to deter the Grass ninja staring them all down. "Our orders are absolute, Damon Wyss. All members of the Enoshima Clan are to be rounded up and confined until further notice. No exceptions."

"So you can what? Finish off the rest of them?" Shouted Karin, her face turning almost the same shade as her hair. "Shouldn't you guys be guarding the village right about now?"

"That's exactly what we're doing." Sneered one of the jonin. He looked less than amused at Karin's act of defiance. Physical violence wasn't off the table, a fact that Ryūzetsu's protectors knew very well, and yet they were still standing in defense of her. Actually, she knew that's exactly what things were about to escalate in that direction. "As of this moment, all Enoshima clan members have been deemed a potential threat to the village thus we've been ordered to act accordingly. Now, both you, step aside or we WILL go through you."

"Besides my mom, he's the only real doctor here, genius!" Barked Karin, following the man's logic to its conclusion. "If you kill him then you'll be killing all the others! That's not protecting the village, that's putting it into the ground!"

The truth of Karin's words were plain as day on the faces of onlookers, onlookers who'd spent the last several hours having Damon heal their injuries or watching him do so for others. All that said, them speaking up in their defense was an incredibly slim possibility. Ryūzetsu took a quick glance around the makeshift wooden hut. It wasn't the place for a fight, no, it was the perfect place for a slaughter. A slaughter that she would be at the heart of, rather she liked it or not.

"I-I-If I-I g-g-go w-with you, t-then p-promise y-you won't hurt anyone?"

Momentary as it might have been, the glare softened. A nod came next and the decision was made. Naturally, Karin and Damon tried to stop her, but Ryūzetsu knew better. It was her clan that had chosen to strike out in anger, at the very least she could take a few small steps in trying to smooth things over.

But nothing was getting smoothed over, not for a long time. Thrown in a cell with her clansmen, her parents not amongst the sea of faces. Ryūzetsu wasn't sure which was worse: her parents dying in the earlier attack or them being alive and them believing she was dead and crying their eyes out. She was crying herself, though thankfully she wasn't alone. Children like her and the elderly, all were whimpering at how dark a turn their lives had taken, and yet it still wasn't over. Someone had managed to sneak in a weapon or two, from there Ryūzetsu's memories became fuzzy. It was hard to recall how she'd ended up running through the chaotic streets, a reenactment of the day's earlier events. This time though, Ryūzetsu was sure luck wasn't going to be with her.

In a way, she'd been both right and wrong. An unyielding sense of dread at her back kept pushing her forward until her feet finally gave out, and right on the steps of a stairway descending downward. She'd heard stories about people breaking their bones and even necks falling down flights of stairs. Ryūzetsu tried to tell herself that would be a better fate than either being captured and experimented on, imprisoned, or executed for treason. Shutting her eyes, she braced for whatever the afterlife had in store for her.

When she next opened them, Ryūzetsu was surprised to find the afterlife resembled the world of the living. A lot.

"Ah, seems you're finally awake. Philoctetes, let's take a break." Male, scratchy, elderly, but tinged with a bit of kindness.

"Master, are you sure? Do please remember, we're being hunted." Also male, but younger and a tad lighter. Though caution lined the voice, Ryūzetsu could already feel her body beginning to come to a stop. She was being carried by someone, likely the owner of the second voice. "Child, take it easy and be at peace, you're safe. For the moment anyway."

She took the words to heart. Slowly, the Enoshima girl's eyes began to flicker open. High above her head stretched the arm-like branches of the myriad of trees that dotted the forests outside of the village. Age and her own shyness had kept her from attempting to climb the trees and getting a look at the world from up high. Through the artificial ceiling, she spotted the twinkling of stars in the night sky. Gradually, she found another shape looming over her. Almost immediately Ryūzetsu panicked at the masculine shape, but a comforting hand on hers kept the fear repressed. Her light purple eyes stared back into a pair of moss green orbs; said orbs struck directly into her soul like a soft hand descending downward.

Coppery brown hair swayed in the night wind. If she had to place a guess, the man was arguably in his mid to late twenties, that's the nearest she could guess from examining his face. Looking downward, she saw a dark-gray cloak covered a majority of his body. Upon closer examination, Ryūzetsu was somewhat amazed to see towards the ground, gray became a mixture of green and brown, the colors of the trees that now surrounded them. Glancing to her right, she found the man's companion was dressed in similar garb.

He was older by quite a margin, perhaps in his late forties to early sixties with graying hair that had been brushed back with a small ponytail. Wrinkles dotted his face giving his skin the appearance of sandpaper. Briefly, he smiled at her with kind blue eyes before his face contorted in pain. His right hand shot to his mouth as a coughing fit seized him. "S-S-Sorry, I-I know, r-right about now you must be pretty scared. When we came across you…things were a bit hectic so we just acted on instinct." The elderly man said through the pain. "My name is Fulvio de Rege, this is my…partner."

"Call me Archer." Spoke the younger male, giving the girl a soft smile.

Immediately, Ryūzetsu's head tilted. "Arch…er? Um, by any chance…do you know someone named Saber?"

The two males looked at each other…and then broke out in hearty snickers. Sitting completely upright, Ryūzetsu felt she'd said something wrong and started to apologize.

"S-S-Sorry, little one. I-It's just, well, we've met many Sabers on our journey so I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific." Clarified the brown-haired man, holding up a bandaged hand. "If you can, can you give some finer details to describe him?"

"He's a samurai. Elderly, almost like…um," she looked to Fulvio. "I don't think he's quite as old as you are, …de…Rege?" After seeing his nod, Ryūzetsu continued. "His name is Shinmen Munisai and he's got a…partner too. Do you know a man named Damon? Damon Wyss?"

In seconds, the two males seemingly relaxed. They'd been listening to every word of her description, no doubt thinking of the possibility she were describing an enemy or such. Upon more details, the edge seemed to come off of each of them.

"We do." Fulvio answered. "They're…let's just say we're on friendly terms with him and his people. Was there anyone else with them? Arguably a young man and a woman with pink-hair and fox ears and a tail?"

Archer sighed seeing the girl's swift shaking of the head. "Typical, it seems even after months of traveling, only our enemies have managed to link up. Apparently not even in this new world can we catch a break." Twisting his head back, Ryūzetsu knew he was staring back in the direction of the village. Thanks to the massive trees, it was impossible to see the likely still rising columns of smoke. On that note, she didn't even know how far from the village they were. "Though I would like to go back and help him and Munisai…we'd only attract trouble, more trouble than that village can handle."

A bell rung inside the mind of the little girl. "The Basilone Family doesn't take being double-crossed," Somehow, her mind was clear enough to recall that one phrase. Perhaps it was because of the level of dread Damon had spoken with, he was speaking from experience. "U-Um, e-excuse me, b-but," The other pieces of the conversation came back. For the first time, Ryūzetsu feared her saviors. This was starting to feel like a pattern. "Y-You two…a-are you…members o-o-of t-t-the Basilone Family?" No sooner had she said the words did she brace for something, anything-likely a blade to the throat.

Fulvio coughed several times, drawing her attention. Ryūzetsu's worry was replaced by open worry as she looked at the old man. For the first time, she realized how…frail he looked. Something told her he might have been better off in a hospital or retirement home than out here in the forest. "Well, we are former members." He finally said once the coughing fit had passed. Fulvio could see the lingering fear in her eyes and moved to calm it. "We left the organization and became…allies somewhat with Damon and his people."

"Fox Catchers." Archer noted with a faint smile. "Yes, they were a much nicer band to work with than those bastards. Little more than thieves and murders, just like my last set of employers."

"D-Do either of you know a pair named Pedru and Reginn?"

There was finally a reaction she'd been expected - dread, with a tinge of annoyance.

"Renegades, like us." Fulvio noted.

"But worse." Snorted Archer, crossing his arms and turning his face. "Arms dealers, opportunists. I take it that mess in the village was their doing?"

"S-S-Sorta," admitted Ryūzetsu. "T-Things were…it's been a bad day."

The older man picked up on her sadness and immediately placed a hand atop her shoulder. It was a small consolation, but one she couldn't help but appreciate. What little dam had been built temporarily broke, allowing her tears to flow. Fulvio opened his arms to her, something else she was grateful for. "It just occurred to me we never got your name, little one."

"R-R-Ryūzetsu, m-my name is Ryūzetsu Enoshima. I…I…I used to live in the Village Hidden in Grass." Speaking in past tenses truly had hurt, perhaps because it solidified the fact that she couldn't go back to the village. Really, what was waiting for her? Karin! "W-W-Wait! W-When y-y-you found me, w-w-was there another little girl w-w-with me? A-A-A redhead with glasses?"

Both men opened their mouths to speak, but Archer's immediately clamped shut. Springing to his feet with a serious look on his somewhat youthful face, he turned his gaze back toward the forest. While Ryūzetsu couldn't peer into the darkest, something told her that Archer could, and with great clarity. What he saw wasn't good. Though lacking the same ability, Fulvio picked up on his partner's sudden mood shift. Perhaps he felt the approaching danger as well. It was solidified with the resounding wolf howls that rolled across the forest. Ryūzetsu was no animal expert, but from the sounds of howls the beasts in question must have been quite…big.

Archer looked to his partner, then to Ryūzetsu. "Time is short so you must decide. Will you come with us or would you prefer we leave you for your villagers to find?"

It wasn't a decision because the second option wasn't an option.

"P-Please! Take me with you! I-I promise, I won't slow you-"

Frail he may have appeared, Fulvio still had some strength in him. Enough to grab her by the scuff of her shirt and hold her against his chest. And then there was his running, more like sprinting. Once more, she felt cool air whipping at her face as she was carried off into the unknown. Daring to look back, she saw Archer standing before the darkness of the forest. He held out one hand, and in his palms materialized what had to be one of the largest and most beautifully crafted bows she'd ever seen. Masterfully crafted wood padded with gold which reflected the moonlight into a shimmering aura. No, slack-jawed, Ryūzetsu realized that the aura wasn't just her imagination, it was real.

And powerful.

Ryūzetsu literally felt her heart stop in accordance with the snap, the sound of an arrow being fired. Five seconds, that's how long she hung in the quiet limbo before it was shattered by the sound of multiple howls of pain. Her blood literally chilled as the screams filled up her ears.

"I'm sure Damon probably gave you something of a loose run down, but my partner is an Archer, Heroic Spirit of the Bow." Declared the senior, now carrying her through the moonlight forest. "Heh, that said, not all Archers use bows."

In spite of the situation, and the continued chaos unfolding behind them, Ryūzetsu found it in her to look up and question her savior. "Then why are they called Archers? What sort of archer doesn't use a bow?"

Boom! Boom!

The forest shook as if it had been struck by a hammer. Her questions forgotten, Ryūzetsu quickly tucked her head back against Fulvio's chest. Though another coughing fit was near, he pressed onward. The old mafia knew that his worn and dying body didn't have much life left in him, but he now had an idea of what he had to use it for. He had to pray luck was with them and they didn't run into some truly bad characters. Not only did he not have the strength for a long-drawn-out fight, but he couldn't risk it with a little girl like Ryūzetsu in the area. Not to mention whatever had caused trouble in her home village he didn't want to attract.

It truly seems the price for turning "good". Laughed the veteran gangster. Of course, with it came a shot of blood that thankfully landed on the ground and not on his young charge. I can't…this may just be the end of the road for me. If so, I can't leave Philoctetes in the wind like this. He deserves better. Though he didn't want to, his eyes drifted down to the former Grass villager in his arms. Dark thoughts began to streak across his mind as they passed trees and plants of unnatural size. When they came to this land, he's silently marveled at the greenery. Truly, the Land of Mushrooms lived up to its name.

Fulvio had secretly decided perhaps it might not have been a bad place to die.

Feeling a chill grip his spine, he threw his free arm out. Though there was a flicker, the translucent green-colored shield manifested, doing just enough to deflect the oncoming crescent-shaped blasts of air that flew through the forest. Fulvio cursed as his right arm felt the strain of the attack. Even a low-class attack such as this was enough to cause him some pain. Still, he was going to press on. His fingers curled causing the octagon-shaped barrier to break into multiple shards of green-colored energy, then launched them in the direction the attack had come from. He at least counted three death cries while the rest more than likely deflected or tanked the attacks.

"Not bad, old man Fulvio! On your last legs, but you've still got some fight left in you!" Barked yet another male voice, this one sounds just as young as Archer's. It resounded through the forest like a bell, a bell of ill omens.

Fulvio fell to his knees, blood beginning to slide down the corner of his lips. Ignoring it, he grinned. "Hey now, I served four dons through thirty years of service. I've seen just as many battlefields and just as much death as you, Piccolo Demone. You'd do well not to underestimate me, even if I'm within the reaper's reach. I may just decide to take you with me."

There was a brief bought of chuckling. "I believe you…but one about the little girl in your arms? Tell me something, are you prepared to die, little one? Do you ponder what fate awaits you in life after this one?"

Naturally, she flinched. Fulvio's grip on her grew tighter as he took a cautionary step back. Only one as he knew he was surrounded. His mind's eye told him they were about twelve or so, all armed with rifles and machine guns, the likes of which this world had probably never seen, and wouldn't see for another half-century or so. Ordinarily, such weapons wouldn't pose too much of a threat against him, but these weren't normal circumstances.

Footsteps permeated the forest along with the clanking of metal. Ryūzetsu clenched harder at the senior's chest, even as her eyes looked forward to seeing the approaching danger. After Caligula, a part of her doubted she could come upon any greater horror. A moment later and their attacker stepped into the moonlight, he and his apparent "Master" as well.

Like Munisai, the first was a samurai, but unlike the cold-eyed man who'd rescued her, this one was younger and appeared more…jovial-looking. Spiky hair black as the night above them, tied up in a high knot. Much like Archer, his face had something of a youthful glow to it, which stood out in sharp contrast to the situation. Ryūzetsu hated to admit it, but the samurai actually looked kind of…handsome. His hazel-colored eyes cackled with amusement, though something told her what he found funny more than likely involved fighting and killing. Her eyes eventually found his mon, a…she believed the proper term was a quince flower. The black emblem stood out upon the silver and gray-colored armor that the samurai wore. His left hand lay atop his katana, fastened to his left side hip. If Ryūzetsu had to guess, he could draw the weapon with the same lightning-fast speed as Munisai.

As the previous pair contrasted, so too did this new duo. There was an obvious difference between the samurai and the man beside him. He was older looking, with a well-cut blond mustache and deep blue eyes. The man wore no armor, only a suit and tie that looked completely and utterly out of the place in the massive forest. What drew her attention though, was the object he held in his right arm. It looked to be some sort of cannon, but with its slick black and silver design, it was unlike anything she'd ever seen.

"You know, old man, you've led us on quite a wild goose chase. We had to take a boat in order to get here." Declared the suit-wearing man as if the whole thing was a minor inconvenience. Ryūzetsu remembered Damon's earlier words about how the Basilone Family didn't treat traitors kindly.

She'd wandered out of the frying pan and straight into the fire. "Leron, it amazes me that Maurizio sent someone like you to chase after little 'ole me, honestly, I'm flattered." Fulvio answered as his eyes moved between the Master and Servant.

"What did you expect? You've been with the family through high and low, you're practically a walking treasure trove! Not a lot of men can say that about the Basilone Family!" It was meant as a compliment, and explanation as for why they were about to kill him.

"This world…it knows nothing of ours. If you're worried about me talking, then you're a tad more paranoid than I remember." Countered the older gangster.

Leron didn't blink, nor did he try to sprinkle any humor into his next words. "It doesn't matter. You know the code. Rather this world or another, the code is ironclad, and you broke it. Don't tell me you thought just because we traveled across dimensions and you seriously thought that would wipe the slate clean! Earth! The Moon Cell! It doesn't matter, you turned your back on an organization that you helped build, you have to pay the price for that! Nobumasa! Cut this traitor-"

The samurai's sword was drawn and moving, though not in the direction of the ex-gangster and little girl, but in his own Master's.

CLANG!

Leron was lucky the arrow aimed at him had been deflected, the rest of his men weren't so lucky. Fulvio said nothing while Ryūzetsu squeaked in horrified alarm. All around her were the sounds of flesh being penetrated, some men having only a second to gasp in shock before death claimed them. At the very least death had been fast. Nobumasa responded quickly, moving in front of his Master and using his katana to deflect the next three arrows shot at him.

"Phil!" He shouted with a mocking grin. "Your ankle is starting to stink again; it gave you away!"

Archer's cape had fallen away to reveal his true self to Ryūzetsu. She'd never seen a man wearing a skirt before. It was a massive departure from the samurai and rarely-used ninja armor that she'd seen in textbooks and such. A bronze-colored chest plate covered almost the whole of the upper body. Flowing in the nightly breeze was a scar of some sort pinned to his left side. Ryūzetsu had to focus her eyes to make out the design - that of a lion in ornate golden scrollwork. Without the cloak, she could now see the lean yet muscular build of the bow-user, evident in his strong forearms, which were covered by bronze-colored greaves. Seemingly magnifying the otherworldly appearance was the bow he wielded in his hands. Ryūzetsu had been somewhat off mark earlier, it wasn't just a weapon, it was a work of art.

In the dark of night, the gold-lined bow burned like a candle. At the very least, she'd heard in foreign lands their weaponry differed from those she knew. That held true for the bow, which looked to be different from those wielded within the Five Great Nations. The bow grip was in the center, and the writing on it matched none she'd ever seen.

"Nobumasa, we both know how this is going to end!" Archer barked, giving the samurai a cold glare. "Withdraw and you'll be free to enjoy this world for a while longer!"

Rather than getting angry, the black-haired man laughed in good humor. "Hey, hey, I'll admit, the last couple of times you've had the edge over me. But this time, I feel like things might be different. Your Master's on his last legs…then again," he placed his blade atop his shoulders while leering at the Archer. "Even on his death bed, your Master may still have mine beat!"

Of course, Leron reacted immediately, and violently. "How dare you!? Don't you dare think just because we're in a Culture Sphere of yours, you can start acting out! Remember who you serve!"

"You know, you can always cut him down and find a new Master, surely there's no end to warlords looking for a skilled warrior such as yourself." Offered Archer. "Not to mention I imagine you'll be able to flirt with some relatively pretty girls."

Everyone knew a laugh was coming next, but Leron wasn't having any of it. Violent anger flashing in his eyes, the Italian raised his left hand. Atop his palm rested a set of interlocking squares which glowed blood-red. Nobumasa's jovial demeanor dropped, as did his body thanks to the twisting arcs of red lightning that snaked around his body. His left knee hit the ground as did the point of his katana. The blade didn't rest in the tip of the ground for long as Nobumasa's eyes suddenly gained razor-sharp focus. In a flash, the sword was traveling through the air, its tip just narrowly managing to catch that of the approaching arrow. The projectile spun in the air for a few seconds before exploding.

Leron cursed as he was thrown backwards. His back screamed in pain when he passed through several trees and bushes; luckily, the armor plating of his suit protected him from the worst. But it was the principle of the ordeal that had him snarling fury. Such fury that he held up the handheld rail gun in his arms. "Bastardo!"

"It's your fault for attempting to discipline your Servant while in the middle of a life-or-death battle!" Snorted the Greek Archer, taking aim with his bow. A single arrow flew, effortlessly tearing through the projectiles fired by the railgun. Again, the shot would have hit if Nobumasa hadn't interfered. Rather than an explosion, the arrow landed atop a nearby mushroom, penetrating it all the way through.

Having shaken off the effects of his "disciplining", Nobumasa grinned at his former comrade. "You're on a timer, Phil."

Sliding into a stance with another bow notched, Archer snorted. "I've fought against tougher odds. Besides, of all those they could have sent after us, they chose you, the bastard. What's the game here?"

The samurai mirrored his actions. "And I see your intelligence hasn't dulled, cripple. Well, since you're on the right track-"

"Nobumasa!" Barked Leron, looking reading to lash out again. Things were bad enough with their target having used the earlier commotion to escape, but he wasn't about to let them become worse. His gaze swerved to the Archer. "Move aside or get cut down. I won't repeat myself."

"No."

"…I'm quite disappointed in you, Philoctetes." Leron finally admitted, shaking his head. "You talk of your regret for the things you did at Troy and your wish to make amends, and yet here you are. Pointing your bow at the descendants of the people you helped slaughter."

Disappointment colored the Greek Servant's face. It melted away into annoyance, then into dismissive coldness as he notched what were now two arrows. "Don't try to hide behind their names to ward off my arrows. It'll just make me want to shoot out every organ in your bodies."

"Weren't you already going to do that?" Nobumasa quipped.

A retort came in the form of two arrows, each traveling at speeds great enough they could pierce six men without losing speed. But against the power of a fellow Servant, even a low-ranked one such as Nobumasa, it was easy to deflect. That was already though, the night was young as far as they were concerned.

Before long, the forests outside of the Hidden Grass Village would be running red with blood.


"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you, you stupid canine?! We've got places to be, so get a move on!"

Chandler resisted the urge to facepalm, though his Servant was doing his best to make him give in with every passing second. If he was calm then he might have noticed the same thing they're unlikely mounts had. Something was very wrong, more fuel to an already sizzling fire that they were all heading into. Now wasn't the time to be acting recklessly; unfortunately, acting reckless was what his Assassin did best. Thankfully, the add-on the Third Hokage assigned to them not only had the patience of a saint, but a sharp mind.

The gray-haired Anbu had ridden the entire way in near pure silence. It was clear he was the silent type, which sat perfectly well with Chandler. All he asked was what they were going to be going up against, Chandler held little back in answering him. He took it all in silence, his thoughts and feelings hidden behind the dog-like mask he wore. When their foxy-steeds came to a sudden stop, he didn't complain or panic like his Servant was doing. No, it seemed the Anbu was attempting to decipher what it was his fox was saying. The three familiars have pointed the men's attention in a single direction.

"I'm probably not going to like the answer, but what's in that direction?" The Frenchman said, looking to the gray-haired ninja.

"Hōzuki Castle, also known as the Blood Prison." Try as he might, it was hard to keep the ring of dread out of his voice. His next words only showed why such a thing was impossible. "It's a supermax prison used by all the shinobi villages. Inmates either die inside its walls or wait until their homelands send for them to face punishment there. If the foxes are beckoning in that direction, then…"

"Trouble." Chandler finished. He was now seriously regretting volunteering for this mission, and the fact that the curse hadn't killed him already. Something told him he was going to run into something tonight that would do the job for him. "We can't ignore this."

"But we already have a target to go after. The western witch and her mad-dog of a Servant." Spoke Okada. He'd seemingly stopped fighting his fox for control, and actually bothered to open his ears and listen. As a Servant, he must have felt the disturbance greater than either of the humans. "But you two are right, we can't exactly leave a supermax prison under siege. For all we know, we'll have criminals running all over the country and spilling into the Land of Fire, or worse."

"What will be worse?" Questioned the Anbu, not letting a hint of unease show.

Chandler could see it now by enhancing his eyes with his magecraft. Smoke, lots of smoke which could have only come from fire. He could have enhanced his ears, but doing so would have only made the picture look bleaker. "I can think of a few people who'd benefit from instigating a prison break, specifically since one group that came through with us was a crime syndicate, the Basilone Family. They're what my world calls a mafia, a crime family. It's been over a month so I imagine they've regrouped and are making a play for power."

While the Master had used his eyes, the ninja was using his ears. Even with what he was wearing, odds were his expression hadn't changed beneath his mask. If he lived up to his reputation, then he'd already seen were the road was leading. "A little over a week after you all came to our world, a crime syndicate of our own lost its leaders. Either by luck or chance, the heads of the organization were all killed, leaving the rank and file and lieutenants scrambling for power. I suppose one evil was merely traded for another."

"Oi! While you two are chit-chatting, the night grows shorter!" Barked the Meiji-Era Servant with an angry knot on his forehead. "What are we going to do!? Alecto and her Servant are still out there and I don't plan on letting them roam free!"

"You two go after them then." Immediately declared the Anbu. His fox mount got the hint and turned itself in the corresponding direction. "I'll go do recon and report back, in the meantime, you suppress this Alecto and her Berserker."

"Hey," Chandler began. "Are you sure about that? For all you know, that could be hell you're walking into."

The following chuckle was stiff and humorless. "It wouldn't be the first time, and if I live through this then it won't be the last. Watch yourselves." Not another moment was wasted as the mystical fox took off in the direction of the prison, the leaves and grass rustling in the creature's wake.

"Same to you…Sharingan Kakashi." Mused the green-eyed Frenchman before motioning his own creature in the opposite direction with Okada following after him. And quickly overtaking him. He didn't have to read his Servant's thoughts to know he was giddy with anticipation for the incoming fight. Though he lobbed plenty of jabs at him, Chandler knew if it came down to a straight fight Okada could defeat Caligula and then perhaps, he could apprehend or even kill Alecto himself. He was hoping they could do this quick and fast as not to draw too much attention, and put himself at risk. A subconscious hand went to his chest where he felt his heartbeat beginning to tick up. He really was testing the limits here. While he was grateful to Hakuno for extending his life, a lot of good it did him if it meant he would be confined to a hospital bed or cane for the rest of it. Besides, Chandler held no delusions about what kind of man he was.

"Can you hear it? It's already begun, Chandler! The battle! The fight!" Jeered the orange-eyed Assassin with an ever-widening smile. Of course, he heard the sounds of battle before he did. "I can hear it, a sword slicing through flesh, a katana!"

"Try not to orgasm before we get there." The human drily quipped.

"Gah! Infernal beast, can't you go any faster! My glory awaits! A perfect stage has been set for I, Manslayer Izou! You don't want that no-name loser ahead of us stealing it, do you!?"

It was apparent that Okada had forgotten the giant foxes they were riding shared a great many things with their creator - including her dislike of him. Okada's last statement, and his demand, made the fox familiar decide to remind him of said dislike.

"W-Woah! H-Hey! S-Slow down a little! Not so fa-aaahhh!" The Servant and fox spirit vanished in the blink of an eye, a sonic boom resounding through Chandler's ears and the sea of greenery. He'd brought it on himself. Okada said he wanted to get to the sight of the battle fast, well, that's exactly what was about to happen.

Chandler shut his eyes and listened to his Servant's infuriated cries of annoyance and distress. It was actually amusing and made for a good stress reliever given what they were heading into. Even if only faintly, he could hear it - the sounds of battle. Wild beasts attacking and being sliced apart. Though Okada had identified the weapon as being a katana, he wasn't about to accept that the third party was a Saber. As he'd learned, even when summoned as Archers and Lancers, samurai Servants still carried a sword or two as a sidearm. After all, in Japanese warfare, the sword had originally been a sidearm before time pushed the melee weapon to the forefront of combat and ingrained it into people's minds. His brow crossed as he tried to identify who it was they were going to be facing.

"GAAAH!"

"There goes stealth." The human chuckled. To his surprise, the fox he was riding gave a feral snicker.

SNAP!

Senses opening up, Chandler threw his right arm out. Converging in his palm was a mass of light that immediately shot outward into the darkness of the forest. It hit home as evident by a pain-filled yelp that filled his ears. More snarls and barks followed, all canine. His face hardening, he called out with his mind and felt a familiar handle slid into the palm of his hand. Focusing his energies, Chandler swung the newly-summoned axe in a wide arc, releasing a spanning wave of white-light that cleaved through the forest. More painful wails greeted his ears filling him with a small but smug sense of pride.

The fox familiar felt the coming danger and responded accordingly, with a mighty leap that took them high above the treetops to the point where Chandler felt he could reach up and touch the stars. One of their pursuers attempted to follow them. Out of the darkness of the forest and now illuminated by the forest, Chandler could see what the cause of the commotion might have a been - a wolf. One fairly larger than average with savage eyes that held nothing but bloodlust.

A wolf? Wait a minute! A wolf that big, an assault on a jail, that can only mean-!

Snarling, the wind-attributed fox dashed forward, like a scythe blade descending upon its unfortunate target. The blood-eyed canine never saw the end coming, nor was it able to do anything other than yelp in dying agony as its severed halves fell back into the forest.

Lycaon! Of all the Servants for us to run into, Lycaon! What's worse is if we're going up against Caligula, then…! "Quickly, take me to where Okada is! The idiot doesn't know what he's walking into!"

There was a momentary snort. Clearly, the fox familiars had Tamamo's dislikes and her snark. Rather than descend downward, the beast pressed forward, its paws pounding against the invisible air of the night. Chandler looked in the direction they were heading and shuddered. A large enough mountain from which a massive tree sprung outward, overlooking the surrounding area. It made for a good outpost…or temporary lair. Battle had already broken out in the surrounding area. Heavy fighting based on what he was hearing. Before he could seriously begin to regret his words, the fox familiar was sprinting in that direction.

Fast as the journey may have been, it wasn't going to be easy. Right before the Frenchman's eyes, massive swirling torrents of water exploded from the ground. They quickly rose above the treetops like a pair of aquatic arms belonging to some elemental awakening from its slumber. It awoke with a vengeance. Each of the swirling torrents shaped themselves into a needle-like point, all of which lunged outward in all directions like a multi-headed hydra. Cursing, Chandler ordered his ride to evade, but the fox had already decided on a clear course of action. A cocoon of near solidified air gathered around it as the creature surged forward, its eyes narrowed and its ears down.

Chandler had little idea if the beast had synchronized with him or not. Hell, he didn't even know how much thought and energy Tamamo had put into creating these things. Whatever the answer was, it was enough to keep him alive. Water scattered in all directions as they barreled through the oncoming attacks. Gripping his axe tightly, he loaded all the strength he could into the blade, knowing that when the barrier dropped it'd be tome to attack. The space around the blade contorted as a result of the pressurized air that was begging to be released. Hundreds of trees and plant life flew past him before his mount had him in the middle of a clearing, a war-torn clearing.

Okada was already engaged in battle, with just about everyone present. Anything resembling restraint had been thrown to the wind as the infamous swordsman was wildly slashing away at everything in sight-beast and man alike. As expected, the bodies of wolves had begun to slowly pile up. They hadn't died peacefully. Sword, impalement, drowning, and being torn apart by other beasts, those were the options presented to them. Mindless beasts they were, they charged headlong into danger, hellbent on ripping apart anything they could get their jaws on. It was all they'd been created for.

Much like the stitch-laden beasts that they were currently battling. The Noah's Revival Project had started out well enough, reviving not just extinct animals but even member of the Phantasmal Species using bio-data harvested from said species physical remains, what few that were left. Such reproductions had been true marvels of science and nature. And then the Fox Tail Wars burnt it all, leaving the results seared beyond measure. Alecto had lost her life's work and her husband to the flames. Hell, she'd lost a good chunk of her sanity. What remained of it all was currently clawing and tearing at two samurai, both men whose time had long since come yet had been given a second chance.

Wild cats the size of an adult human, snapping insects whose black carapaces glistened in the night, snakes whose massive bodies could put anacondas to shame, and even monkeys with disgusting saliva escaping from their jaws. All of them bore horrid stitch-like patterns across their bodies, which were rapidly becoming stained red with blood. Each and every last creature was either battling the two samurai or savagely tearing at the enemy wolf pack that had journeyed through the woods to find Alecto. It was absolute chaos, a scene of pure carnage before a twisting wall of water upon which sat one of Roman's many less than admirable emperors. Chandler's entrance did not go unnoticed by the madman.

"Oh, what's this? A new warrior has entered the fray! Good! Good! Dance for me, dance for your emperor!" Cackled Caligula, raising one finger and pointing it directly as Chandler. A single beam of water shot out from the towering mass; its target was his chest.

It missed and penetrated nothing but the ground. Chandler came out of his roll holding his two-handed axe behind his back, ready to be swung at a moment's notice. "Tais-toi! Come down here so we can get this over with, you disgusting excuse for a Servant!"

Homicidal rage colored the red-eyed Berserker's face, then morphed into maddening glee as he crossed his legs. He didn't seem the least bit concerned at the fact that below his feet, so close to his Master, a war was unfolding. Quite the opposite, he seemed happy. "I am an emperor of Rome, why on earth should I stand on the same ground as ants such as yourselves? Die, lie down there in the mud like the worms you are!" The extended finger turned into a clenched fist.

Chandler had been waiting for this moment. Swirling water shaped itself into a spinning drill that would have punched through him had he not been ready. Uttering a silent thanks to his former target, he threw his axe forward, the compressed air and magical energy exploding outward along the edge. The explosive force was more than a match for the incoming attack, droplets of water splashed about the forest floor courtesy of the attack. But it wasn't over yet, two more water drills were coming straight for Chandler.

The first was intercept by his fox familiar, one final gift before it dispersed into pink-colored particles. He knew it wasn't gone forever, merely retreated. Tamamo had created them to serve as transportation, not for battle.

Deflecting the second was the other samurai, one whose figure Chandler recognized all too well.

"You?! The hell are you-"

Munisai's second blade came unsheathed in the blink of an eye. A small crescent-shaped wave shot through the air and split the body of an approaching snake clean in half. "That familiar you were riding, it belonged to Tamamo, didn't it?"

Spinning on his heel, the human crushed a nearby monkey about to seize him by the shoulders. "It's a long story, but we've called a-"

"Get away from my Master, you second-rate swordsman!"

Chandler would have slapped his forehead in annoyance or torn his hair out or screamed if they weren't in the middle of a life-or-death situation. Regardless, Munisai heard the insult loud and clear, and responded in the way only a samurai would.

To his credit, Okada steeled himself and looked excited to cross blades with the father of the legendary Musashi Miyamoto. From his mouth streamed a list of challenges and boasts, none of which seemed to faze Munisai. The older man vanished in a flash, something that caused Okada to go bug-eyed.

SLISH!

Reappearing behind the stunned manslayer, the veteran snapped, "Shut your mouth and fight! This is a fight for survival, not a contest, dimwit!" Black and red exploded from the creatures he'd just sliced to pieces in the blink of an eye. Munisai didn't wait for Okada's response, he sprinted toward a crowd of stitched-up beasts, his gaze focused on the mad emperor watching the battle. "If you will not come down here, then I will bring you down!" Rearing his katana back, violet and blue-colored energy gathered around the blade while his free hand moved to his left-side waist.

"You got lucky last time, vermin, but that won't happen again!" Veins appeared along Caligula's outstretched arm in accordance with the left-handed water tower shaping into a massive fist. Said fist was launched directly at the approaching Saber, like a cruise missile.

Munisai's right arm swung outward in a wide arc, with an arc-shaped slash of equal size being released. Concentrated Aether met cursed water in a clash that sent gale-force winds blasting through the forest, and knocked those unprepared off their feet. Madden they may have been, the beasts knew to cease their struggles and brace themselves. Chandler and Okada were no different, holding their arms to their faces to shield their eyes from the shrapnel borne from the collision. Even the Servants felt their ears ring from the intensity of the explosion, but only one had the clarity to press onward. Munisai's left hand moved swiftly, his wakizashi leaving a light blue trail in its wake.

Caligula had little more than a second to raise his remaining water arm to block the attack. It didn't leave quite a big impact, but it served to draw his attention away from the pair dispatched from the Hidden Leaf Village.

Though the Earth's mana had practically dried up by 2028, humans continued to be born with magic circuits and so forth. Magus still possessed Origins, which more often than not carried over into their digital avatars on the Moon Cell. Chandler's Origin was Compression, drawing in something and holding it in place until the proper time for release. As many had discovered, it could be a dangerous and useful tool, even against Servants. Stabbing his axe into the ground and crossing his hands, Chandler summoned as much of his magical strength as he could.

He wasn't disappointed with the results. Before his hands appeared a peach-sized mass of translucent air that acted as a vacuum, sucking in everything within its pull, including Caligula's water. For a split second, the mad emperor had lost control of one half of his Noble Phantasm. Chandler didn't dare shout out the command to his Servant for he needed all of his concentration for the task at hand. Luckily, Okada got the hint without words.

Blade gleaming the moonlight, one of the four infamous manslayers rushed forward. "Finally! I've been dying to take someone's head for weeks! You'll be my big kill, a ruler of barbarians!" Shadows consumed the human; when they dissipated all that was left was the wraith, the inhuman killing machine who'd become the stuff of nightmares of late Edo. A lone red eye burned into the seemingly helpless Berserker, who stared wide-eyed at the approaching Assassin.

RRAAAGGGHHH!

Munisai shouted for Okada to move, he registered the warning almost a second too late. Bounding from the mountains, a blacken shadow with eyes similar in color to his own demonic form. The manslayer had just enough time to raise his sword into defense before the shadow slammed into him like a bullet. Okada's screams made Chandler's eyes widen, yet he maintained just enough concentration to keep Caligula's watery arm at bay. The Assassin hit the ground, a thin trail of blood trailing from his body as he rolled along the grass before coming to a stop. A choice had to be made, he was easy prey for the roaming beasts around them, a fact that Chandler knew rather well.

His choice was made in an instant. He ran forward, keeping the mass of air between his hands compressed, then he let the mass spread outward upon reaching his Servant. The blast was strong enough to knock the attacking beasts away, at least for a little while. "You okay?"

"No! I'm not okay! My big kill was just-argh!" Rather than grip his sword, he gripped his shoulder, the same area that had been hit. The Frenchman's eyes widened as he realized the flesh beneath his Servant's clothing was turning purple, a familiar and ugly shade of purple. "Vile beast, I never liked cats." Gurgled the Assassin as he got to his knees.

Caligula had descended, right onto the back of the hulking lion that had come to his rescue. Twisted affection cackled in his eyes as he stroked the ash-colored mane of the beast. "Ah, how rude of me. Such a grand feast and I failed to include you, Nero. You have my apologies. Now that you're here though, the true festivities can begin!" Roaring in approval, the stitches-laden lion glared at the three enemies. Steam rose from where its dark-colored saliva fell. "Now then, who wants to be the first sacrifice?"

Naturally, Munisai stepped forward. Rather than a sneer, a dark smile was forming on his lips. "Excellent, I can slay you and that pathetic excuse for a mount together."

Besides the lion, little had changed. The samurai and emperor charged at one another in a reenactment of their earlier engagement. Both Servants planned on ensuring the ending was different than before.

With the number of variables that had been added, there was a good chance it would be different.


"I'm going out."

The dwarf sighed, somewhat happy that his Master had finally decided to come right on out and say it. At the very least he'd given him a prior warning. "Fine, fine. Go, slaughter to your heart's content. But please, do be careful. Your mortals have the capacity to become so much stronger in this world, but don't forget what you're going up against. Oh, and remember, these people want us dead."

Pedru laughed in spite of the severity of the situation. It was such an attitude that had allowed him to survive countless situations such as this latest mess. "No, they want me dead. You, my short little friend, they'll keep alive for a while longer. Remember, you're the real backer of this partnership, not me. That said, I don't think a life of slavery is much of a step-up from being dead."

As expected, Reginn bristled at the thought, but not enough to break his concentration. Illuminated by the light of the larger than average black-box, all the imperfections on his face were made clear. Reginn as not a good-looking dwarf, not by any stretch of the mile. A squashed banana, that would have been an accurate description for his nose while his hair resembled greasy seaweed. Sandpaper was his skin, wrinkled to the brim and darkened from years of working before a red-hot forge. The dwarf grew uglier as his face contorted in effort, most of his energies being focused on the spells needed to break open the four-faced box before them. It was proving to be a harder task than either renegade had predicted.

In the far recesses of his mind, Reginn begrudgingly gave the Sage of Six Paths a nod of respect. The man had somewhat known what he was doing when he created the damn container.

But not even a sage such as him could have planned for what the last several weeks had brought for his world.

Resounding through the chamber as a storm of echoes were the sounds of battle and bloodshed. Thankfully, the inmates of the Blood Prison had proven to be far worthier wielders of the dwarf's creations. Though newly freed, they were giving the Basilone Family one hell of a fight, even when the latter had Servants and firearms backing them. They hadn't seen much, having gone directly underground to where the Box of Ultimate Bliss was held, but the nonstop tremors told them enough. The battle was no doubt ferocious, being criminals versus criminals, but it could not last.

Pedru couldn't help but smile at the little set-up they'd put together. The Basilone Family had plans to come recruiting to the prison, but now the same people they were hoping to win over were now fighting them to the death. What he wouldn't give to see the looks on his former employers' faces as they watched yet another of their plans go up in smoke and flames. If he was lucky then he'd get a chance to look at some of them. Seconds before he hopefully ended their lives anyway. A dark grin grew along his face as he gripped the two-handed broadsword and walked up to the flight of stairs. As he disappeared into the darkness, reptilian scales began to form along his right hand, the same hand that gripped the specifically crafted-sword.

Reginn trusted his Master enough not to get himself killed, for a while anyway. His sword would eventually rot his mind away, making him reckless and foolhardy. Before that happened, he had to crack open the seal on the box and free its prisoner. His lips curled into a smirk as he felt something inside the box kick.

Who…are you? It asked in a scratchy and inhuman voice.

Who am I? Your master, who you will obey once you are set free!

The voice laughed. Foolish little man, countless before you have uttered such a phrase, but few have proven worthy. Feed me more! More! Release me from this prison!

Grinning from ear to ear, Reginn reached into one of his pockets and withdrew a palm-shaped stone that glowed with emerald-green light. If one looked close enough, they would have seen beyond the ethereal shine were faces, hundreds of screaming human faces trapped in a swirling maelstrom. Chuckling, he tossed the stone toward the massive black box. Red-colored mist exploded from the face-like design, catching the stone and absorbing it. The air grew heavier while the box hummed like a living creature.

I know what you are, Reginn murmured. I can assure you, the feast I'm offering you will be unlike any you've-

CRA-ACCCK!

A portion of the ceiling gave away, and with it came a rainfall of rumble, and a person. The dwarf merely watched with a thin sneer as the figure landed on his feet, his sword brandished and gleaming in the low light of the underground chamber. He held no fear as the old man garbed in armor and stood and pointed his sword directly at Reginn's tiny figure.

"Step away from the box, dwarf! Least your head join the countless others I've taken this night!" Bellowed the Saber Servant. Much like the Caster, his tan skin appeared bronze in bright lighting of the chamber. His dark green eyes blazed with righteous fury as they bore into Reginn in an attempt to cow him into submission.

He was done acting. "If you want my head, then take it! Don't waste my time with talk, I've heard enough of that! Besides," the sneer turned into a smirk. "Are you in any position to look down on me like that? Once, you were a king, a righteous man of your faith who fought with honor and dignity against Charlemagne himself. But now…" Throwing his head back, the dwarf's laughter nearly drowned out the tremors overhead. "Now look at you! Nothing but a lackey to a band of criminals! A mere grunt like the thousands of soldiers you commanded and led to their deaths in Spain! King Baligant, oh how the mighty have fallen!"

His words hit straight home. Face twisted in anger, the Emir of Babylon sprinted forward, his longsword outstretched with golden-light swirling about the edge. Knowing the blow would be a one-hit-kill if he didn't prepare, Reginn threw his right arm out, his mouth moving in the ancient language of his homeland. A Norse rune appeared before him, shielding him from the attack. Baligant wasn't deterred in the least. At his back appeared six different colored spheres that morphed into swords, all pointed toward Reginn. All six blades jabbed in one direction, shattering the rune barrier like glass, yet they failed to hit their target. Reginn dashed to the side, his lips still twisted in a mocking smile.

"Odin's beard, how is it your aim also decreased!? Tell me, is your old age finally catching up to you, your highness?" Cackled the blacksmith.

"Like you're one to talk, dwarf!" Barked the bearded king, swinging all seven of his swords in a single direction, toward Reginn.

Who also happened to be directly in front of the giant black box.

The rainbow-colored blades slammed right into the onyx-colored surface, their luminous light spilling across the box like a tidal wave. Reginn cackled like a madman, which he was, as he rolled out of the way, propelled by the wind rune he'd summoned at the last second. Baligant paid little mind to the light spreading across the Box of Ultimate Bliss and pressed his attack. The dwarf responded by summoning a steel-rimmed shield larger than his four-foot body. He grunted in visible pain and effort as the seven blades slammed hard against his defensive wall. It was a matter of seconds until the shield gave out, but luckily, Reginn's plan had gone off without a hitch.

Précieuse, the sword of King Baligant, Emir of Babylon. It was a fine sword, but its power and legend were eclipsed by the sword wielded by its wielder's rival. That said, it still held considerable power, just enough to vitalize the inhabitant within the box.

And then some.

Both Servants felt the air grow foul and heavy. Their breaths jointly caught in their throats; their expressions afterwards were quite different. Baligant, realizing what he'd done, looked to the opening box in horror. Reginn grinned from ear to wicked ear, revealing his now sharpened teeth. So stunned by the scene, the old king almost failed to miss the growing light emitting from the dwarf's mouth. The shield vanished revealing the light to him; Baligant's eyes widened as he caught sight of the building energy and responded accordingly.

The lid on the box flew open just as a stream of near concentrated lightning exploded from Reginn's mouth, just narrowly hitting Baligant. Cursing, the ancient king winced as a stray bolt struck his cheek, leaving a red gash. Drowning out the lightning was the deeply inhuman and outright gleeful laughter of the beast that merged from the Box of Ultimate Bliss. Out of the corner of his eye, the Saber-class Servant saw it, a massive black shadow that barreled through the ceiling in the same way he did. He would have gone after it, but he had another monster to deal with, one that stood just little over four feet with scraggly hair and glowing golden eyes.


After centuries of imprisonment, Satori's chest-mounted mouth inhaled pockets of air. Not surprisingly, it wasn't clean; blood and smoke rode the wind and the sound of men dying echoed into the night. To the demonic entity, it could think of no better homecoming. Though it possessed no eyes it could see, though it possessed no ears it could hear.

Little had changed, humans were still greedy and violent, and still killing each other. However, something new had been added to the mix. Satori didn't recognize all of the weapons being used, firearms he believed, but with speed and power that eclipsed any bow and arrow it'd seen in its lifetime. Swords, spears, and flails, all of which carried an unusual aura that made its fur stand up on end. Regardless, it had a "mission" to carry out.

Kill them all! Hurl them inside of the Box so we may use it as we see fit! Chimed the voice from before, now deeper and more feral. Satori had no idea what had happened to the dwarf, but his force of will was surprisingly strong, strong enough that Satori decided it would obey the little man.

For now.

Mouth open, crimson energy gathered within its jaws, the target was the prison-turned battlefield below it.

SLISH!

White-hot pain tore through Satori's body as its left wing was clipped, as if by a pair of massive scissors. Worse, it didn't stop that, hundreds of wounds opened across the puppet's body causing blood to spill forth. Satori was confused, and angry. Normally, such attacks were easily avoidable thanks to its emotional sensing. The problem was, there was too much emotion in the area for it to accurately predict where the attack had come from.

The weapons, the demon realized. They were amplifying the negative emotions felt by their users making it hard to pinpoint where a possible attack could come from. Silently snarling in annoyance, Satori realized it was going to have to play things a bit more carefully.

"Ah, I see that hurt. At the very least, this proves an inhuman creature such as yourself can be wounded, even killed."

A single emotion rose above the cacophony of rage and hatred - despair. Though a bit unusual, Satori turned its attention toward the source. A dark blue cape billowed in the nightly wind. Silver armor glistened in the moon standing out like a beacon in the midst of the mayhem. Attention was given to the object in the man's arms, a cross between a bow…and a harp. Snarling, Satori felt an immediate dislike towards the weapon as it carried similar energies to the same man who'd sealed him and his "master" into darkness. Just like the Sage, there was something…unearthly about the redhead staring him down, even though his eyes were closed.

"Many have wounded me; none have succeeded in killing me." Spoke the headless entity. "Do you seek to have your wish granted, Archer? Come into the box, there you will find all that your heart desires."

The archer cocked his head to the side before raising his bow. "A tempting offer, but I refuse."

"What are you?" Demanded the eyeless creature, feeling something that could only be called worry spreading across its body. This wasn't right, humans weren't supposed to cause such a reaction in a creature like Satori.

It was when the archer opened his eyes did Satori realize what was perched atop the castle wasn't a human. At least not a normal one. Normal humans didn't possess eyes the color of gold. "Who am I? Once I was a Knight of King Arthur's Court…but that was another lifetime ago. Now, I am merely an Archer in service to rogues and criminals." The demon bristled as the golden eyes fully opened and fell squarely on it. "A sad fate, wouldn't you say?"

A lone string was pulled, and the air that Satori called its domain became a hell of invisible blades and howling lamentation.


Aaand there's where I'll stop for now. I feel like I've set up a few more interesting match ups and set the stage for the "Hidden Grass arc" to come to a close within the next chapter or two and get back to other things. To answer any lingering questions, yes, I'm pretty much negating the events of Blood Prison. Since currently this story is ten years or so before the main plot begins, it gives me time to either alter certain events or keep them from happening thanks to the intervention of third parties (and fourth parties). To clear up some possible confusion, all of this is taking place BEFORE Mui tried to open the box using his son's chakra. As you all just read, Reginn accomplished the deed using a...stronger power source.

The Italian mafia will be making something of an appearance this story. With the way the Extra universe was set-up, I liked the thought of less savory people getting a hold of Servants and using them for nefarious purposes, and said people being dropped into a feudal world they believe they can mold can lead to some interesting scenarios. That's not to say the Naruto-world isn't dangerous enough, but you all get the idea.

Next chapter will pretty much center on a certain Copy Ninja as he finds himself a Nasuverse warzone! Until then!

Also, R.I.P John Singleton, who passed away on April 29th.