The Web of Strife

Part 1

There were many stereotypes in the universe, some true, some not.

Humans were weak yet clever.

All Demons were backstabbers and power-hungry.

All Angels had a stick up their ass.

The Council didn't discriminate in their pursuit of those who threatened the balance.

All inns were seedy.

At least, this one was.

Many years ago, the Nephilim had embarked on a killing crusade against all of creation. They laid waste to many worlds, and extinguished many species.

This was one such world.

The species who had once called this realm home has long since been forgotten. Many worlds who suffer this fate are left alone, for they are seen as cursed.

Not this world, however.

This world was taken over by Merchant Guilds, who used it as a headquarters in their dealings, trading goods to Angel and Demon alike. As a result, many races now dwelled here, attempting to etch out a living in the shoddy towns, which were constructed under the ivory towers of the Guilds.

It is here, in one of many seedy inns, where our story begins.

The Watcher appeared in a cloud of black smoke, taking shape in a back ally, among the waste and trash. With a sneer directed his surroundings, he glided towards the street, rising above the unwashed masses of creatures that were going about their business. Placing a hand over his eyes, he scanned the surrounding buildings, before finally settling on a four story building.

It had a sign, painted with a green snake, with the words "Serpent of Eden", obviously the establishment's name, written in Demonic, Angelic, Maker, and a dialectic of Lamian.

Wordlessly, he glided over to the Inn's front entrance, and, to the Watcher's great shame, knocked, like a common mortal.

He waited a few seconds before he heard something shuffling behind the door. A big creäture had opened it. The Watcher recognized it.

It was a huge, male, lamia. A lamia had a humanoid torso, and a snake's tail, with scales all over their hairless bodies. They were known throughout creation for being sly yet vicious.

By the standards of mortal races, he was quite ugly, and his left eye covered in a white eye patch, which looked as if it had been burned into his black scales. He wore a blue vest, and wielded a spear, of seemingly angelic origin, in his right hand.

The lamia used his one good eye to give the Watcher a look over, scowling as he did so.

"What do you want sprite? My inn only accepts paying customers." the lamia asked in a very hostile tone, his right hand clenching the spear harder, "As you are a slave, I can tell that you have no money."

"Don't get snippy with me cold blood!" the Watcher retorted, "I'm here on behalf of the Charred Council, so unless you want to face oblivion, you will show me respect!"

The lamia grumbled, "Fine then darkling. Why are you here?"

"I think you know cold blood. The Horseman, Strife. Take me to him."

"As the Council wishes."

They made their way to the top floor, where the best (and the Watcher used that term loosely) and largest rooms were.

They came to a stop in front of a door marked with a horse skull, the emblem of the Four Horsemen.

"Horseman!" the lamia innkeeper shouted as he pounded his fist against the door, "Make yourself decent, you have a visitor!"

"Enter." came the reply.

The innkeeper opened the door and allowed the Watcher through, closing it behind him. The room was poorly lit, and almost barren, with a bed, a single table with a chair, and a poorly lit oil lamp. On the bed sat another lamia, a pale skinned female, probably attractive by the standards of her race, dressed in a pale green garment and plucking at a stringed instrument.

Sitting at the table was the Horseman Strife himself, using a rag to clean his gun, "Mercy", with his other gun "Redemption", on the table. Surprisingly, his mask was also on the table, but Strife was positioned in a way that obscured his face, leaving it in shadow.

"You have traveled far to find me Watcher." Strife said from his chair, still cleaning his gun, "I can only assume that the task you bring me is of the utmost importance to the Council."

"It is." the Watcher replied, casting his gaze onto the lamia, "Something that should not be heard by the ears of a random whore."

The lamia bared her fangs at the Watcher and hissed, before being silenced with a raised hand from Strife.

"Calm yourself Stheno. Leave for now. I'll make it up to you later."

The lamia merely nodded, but did not disguise her utter contempt for the Watcher, before getting off the bed and leaving, slamming the door behind her.

"So it seems even the Horsemen have needs." the Watcher said slyly, "And such exotic tastes you have Horsemen."

"Quiet sprite, least I take your head from your shoulders." Strife said, aiming Mercy at the Watcher.

"Ah, ah, ah Horsemen. You can't kill me, I posses a message from the Council."

"So? They'll send another. Your kind is easily replaceable."

"You will raise the Council's ire!"

"I've raised it before, and here I am still. That being said, I would rather not have to deal with Death's lectures."

Strife put down his gun and grasped his mask with both hands, placing it back on his face. He stood up and walked over to the Watcher, looking down at him between the slits in his mask.

"Speak then sprite. What is the Council's bidding?"

The Watcher floated up until he was at eye level with Strife, "What do you know of Yselik?"

"It's home to many spiders, who spin far to many webs. The Council wants me to kill someone there?"

The Watcher shook his head, "Not on Yselik itself, but an exile from there, Casses, the former Duchess of the Depths."

"Duchess of the Depths? What a charming title. Where is the bitch?"

"The Third Kingdom, Earth."

Strife sighed, "Why do they always go there? Every renegade demon, fallen angel, and Creator knows what else seems drawn to humanity. Has the Council managed to track down specifically where Casses is?"

"One moment." The Watcher asked, raising a finger before reaching behind his back. He pulled out a black book, and flipped through the pages before stopping.

"Aha! Here it is. She's set up shop on the island nation of Japan, specifically on the outskirts of a city called Fuyuki. We believe she hides herself in the forests near that place, accompanied by those few followers who survived the bloodshed on Yselik."

"What do we know of Fuyuki?"

"It rests on one of Earth's leylines. For over a century, the Magi of Earth have summoned Heroic Spirits there to fight one another for a wish granting device called the "Holy Grail". So far, none have succeeded. We believe that Casses' choice of Fuyuki has nothing to do with the Grail however; it's a complete coincidence."

"But I'm betting the leyline isn't. The humans must have a magus caretaker there. Who is it?"

A girl named Tohsaka, not even two decades old. I doubt she'll be of much use."

"Very well then." Strife said as he picked up both of his guns and holstered them.

"Tell the Council I ride for Fuyuki, and for Casses' damned head."

Tonight, starting at 9:00 pm and ending at midnight, at Fuyuki City Harbor, the men working the night shift would be unloading cargo from a fairly large boat. None of them knew what exactly was in the wooden crates, but gut feelings told them that it probably was't legal, if the yakuza looking thugs in nice suits keeping watch were anything to go by.

The time it would take to unload the cargo would probably last longer than their entire shift, and with a good chunk of cargo that would still need to be unloaded the next day, but thankfully, that was someone else's shift. Despite the ungodly hour, and the less reputable company, for the workers, it was a fairly normal night shift.

It was about ten thirty when the night went from "normal" to "weird".

A loud roar pierced the air, and a green glow lit up the sky. All eyes turned towards the ocean, catching a glimpse of a "green meteorite" hitting the water about a kilometer away from the dock.

A great burst of water erupted from the impact. All work stopped immediately as the men turned their attention towards the commotion. Cell phones were taken out, some to take pictures and videos while others attempted to call 1-1-0 and 1-1-8, though the men in suits flashed their guns once or twice to dissuade anyone from bringing the authorities into this.

A few minutes after the calls had been made, the speculation set in. One of the workers was convinced that it was the start of a PRC invasion, while another was going on about aliens and how they had to hide their families, and another suggested it was rival yakuza, though that earned a dirty look from one of the gunmen.

Then the second surprise of the night jumped out of the water onto the dock, landing in a kneeling position.

It was dressed in strange garb, with a purple cloak so dark that it almost appeared black even in the sun. It's face was covered by a full mask, with two eye slits that glowed yellow.

When the figure stood up, the two massive guns holstered at it's waist, larger than the yakuza's, became visible. It was easily taller than any normal man, making for an intimidating sight...

Then it started wringing the water out of it's cloak.

That lost it a few intimidation points.

Still wringing it's garment, It walked at a brisk pace towards the mob of workers and gunmen, unconcerned with that several of the yakuza were aiming their guns at him.

It stopped right in front of one of the shocked workers, and began addressing him in Japanese, albeit in a gruff, almost sardonic tone, and with an accent none could place.

"Which way to Miyama's Traditional District?"

Moving as one, in an almost comical manner, the entire crowd of dock workers pointed west.

The figure merely grunted before walking through the mob, which parted like the Red Sea.

A white flame manifested underneath the figure, before an unearthly white horse emerged from it. The figure jumped effortlessly into the air, landing on the horse's back before taking off towards Miyama's general direction, leaving the confused mob of dock workers and gangsters in the dust.

Rider felt the intruder's presence long before she saw him.

Dressed in modern casual wear, the ex-monster was heading home, returning after taking care of some errands in Shinto. She was crossing though Riverside Park when she felt the presence, with a power at least equal to that of a servant, descend from the sky and land somewhere off the coast.

The arrival of a magical being in Fuyuki, in such a blatant manner, was cause for concern, and that it was heading for the bridge, with the possible intention to cross it, even more so. No doubt that Fuyuki's Magus community, which coincidentally, spent most of their time living under the same roof, felt it's arrival as well.

Entering spirit mode, Rider began making her way to the west end of the bridge. There she would lie in wait for the intruder, cut him off from Fukuki's west side and her master.

Upon reaching the bridge she waited in spirit mode, drawing her nameless dagger and chain, fully prepared to do battle with this powerful newcomer, whomever it may be.

She didn't have to wait long, and after a few minutes, the intruder finally arrived.

His face masked, clad in armor not of this world, and riding a horse alight with otherworldly white flame, this being was truly an intimidating sight, and from the power radiating from him, more than a match for her young master and the rest of the Fuyuki magi combined.

If the intruder was hostile, then the only hope that Rider's impromptu little family had rested with her and the knight. He didn't seem like he was on edge, so he hadn't sensed her yet. Also, he seemed to be in no great hurry, so his mount was only trotting across the bridge, instead of a full gallop.

She could use this to her advantage. She didn't have to defeat him, only stall him.

With that in mind, she re-materialized and threw her dagger.

When the woman appeared out of thin air, her dagger flying towards him, Strife had to reign in Chaos, his Phantom Horse, lest the weapon strike him or his steed.

It pierced the ground in front of him before it's master yanked it back to her. Strife dismissed Chaos, landing feet first on the bridge.

"State what business you have in Fuyuki newcomer." the woman said.

Strife narrowed his eyes, though none could tell due to his mask, and took in the sight of this interloper.

She resembled a tall human woman, who, oddly enough, wore her hair down to her feet, though all of Strife's senses told him that she was far above the average human in both terms of power and existence.

That, and she smelled of blood, overwhelmingly so.

She was dressed in... interesting outfit. A low cut, strapless, black dress that that didn't even come down to her knees, thigh high boots, and long, detached sleeves.

But what really caught his eye was the purple mask that covered her eyes, not even leaving eye slits like his own. She was either blind, or didn't need to see...

All in all, she wore an outfit that no normal being would expect to protect themselves in battle, had hair long enough to be considered a liability, covered her eyes. and used, what would be for most, an impractical weapon.

There were only two types of people who did that; the truly stupid, or the truly dangerous.

This one was obviously the latter.

"I ask again newcomer, what is your business in Fuyuki?" she asked, this time with a more accusatory tone.

Strife could probably count on two hands the number of people in all of Creation who dared speak to him in such a tone and get away with it. None of them lived on Earth.

"My business," Strife said, "is none of your concern creature. Now out of my way." Strife placed his hands on Mercy and Redemption but didn't draw them.

"You ride in the direction of my master's home and it is not my concern?" she replied, betraying no sign of emotion this time.

"You're very observant... whatever your name is."

"You can call me Rider. That's all you need to know."

Strife raised an eyebrow, "Rider? That isn't even a name... oh." Though none could tell due to the mask, Strife was smiling, "You're a Servant of the Grail, aren't you?"

The corners of Rider's mouth turned down. "I'll take that as confirmation." Strife said, "My brother did say that a few ghosts survived the last Grail War. Frankly I'm surprised that the Charred Council never sends us after your kind. You have a tendency to overstay your welcome."

While Strife continued to speak, Rider gripped her knife harder, "Let's see now... judging from the long purple hair, the obvious Aegean accent, and I'm getting a feeling of low level divinity from you...

"You're one of the three Gorgons, aren't you? Medusa to be exact."

Rider said nothing, but Strife could sense the tension from her.

"How did you know that?" she asked.

"I met your sisters once. They weren't nearly as tall or buxom as you by the way, but I'm getting off topic. It was the Age of Gods, and minor divinity like you and your sisters were popping up all over the Third Kingdom. Someone had to establish ground rules, so the Council sent us to lay down the law. Though why you were summoned bewilders me. Isn't your claim to fame getting your head lopped off by Perseus, son of Zeus, while you slept? Personally, if I were your master, I would have summoned him. How you made it to the Throne is beyond me...

Rider ignored the taunts and raised an eyebrow, "The Age of Gods I know, but the term Third Kingdom and your Charred Council escape me."

Strife raised his right hand and rested his forehead in it's armored gauntlet, "Your sisters MUST have kept you in the dark."

He then pointed at her with his right index finger, "The Third Kingdom is Earth, realm of the human race, and the Charred Council is an ancient entity, charged by the Creator himself to maintain the balance between Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Angel and Demon, and all the rest of Creation.

"I am Strife, Rider of the White Horse, and one of the Four Horsemen, charged with enforcing the Council's will. I am here under their orders, and I will complete my mission.

"This can go only two ways Gorgon. Either you let me pass freely, or I put a bullet in that pretty head of yours, and pass anyway." As he said this Strife drew both Mercy and Redemption, aiming both guns at Rider, who had adopted a fighting pose.

"Either way, I pass. So what's it going to be Medusa?"

Two riders, one of the Apocalypse, the other of the Grail, stood about twenty yards apart on Fuyuki City's bridge.

The Horseman had both guns, Mercy and Redemption, drawn, fingers on the triggers, ready to put a hole into the upstart Servant's head if need be.

Rider had drawn her unnamed knife and chain, and was fully prepared to unleash her Noble Phantasm if the intruder forced her.

Strife was infamous among Creation as a disrespectful being, who constantly seemed to be testing the boundaries of what he could get away with without being punished too harshly.

However, one did not become a Horseman by being stupid. Even in the tense situation Strife now found himself in, his sharp mind was already going through possible scenarios leading to victory over his spiritual opponent.

If he was to come out of this unscathed, then he would need to keep Rider at a distance, denying her the chance to use her ungodly strength and speed, which would likely overcome his own poor melee skills. Even if he did manage to hit her, Strife wasn't completely convinced that a bullet, even Maker forged ones that Mercy and Redemption used would be enough to send Rider back to the Grail.

Thankfully, he had something that he was saving for situations just like this…

Before Strife finished that train of thought, he caught something out of the corner of his eye to his upper left, perched on one of the bridge's horizontal beams. Thanks to his mask, Strife saw its vaguely humanoid shape, and it's multiple eyes stared down at both Horseman and Servant.

In a split second, Strife leveled Mercy at the creature and fired once, twice, five times and each bullet, forged by Maker craft, hit their mark.

With and inhuman scream, the creature lost its balance, slipped off its perch, and fell to the bridged below.

Behind his mask Strife smirked.

First blood was his.

He stopped smirking when the falling creature righted itself, landing on its feet… all eight of them.

Its torso, and head was humanoid… but its lower body was the abdomen and legs of a giant spider. Its arms were not arms at all, but looked vaguely like the scythes favored by Death himself. Its skin was a sickly greenish-grey in coloration, and it bled an almost neon green ooze from its bullet wounds.

Its eight eyes were focused on him, then, opening its mouth wider than should be possible, with four huge needle-like incisors dripping with a white fluid, let loose a monstrous screech.

Behind his mask, Strife raised an eyebrow, "Well now, aren't you the ugly one?"

The creature leapt at Strife, using its legs to propel itself into the air, scythe arms outstretched and mouth wide open, with the clear attempt to kill Strife.

In a split second Strife unloaded a dozen rounds from both pistols, at the same time he jumped backwards, keeping as much distance between himself and the spider.

All of his rounds struck true, hitting the creature in the abdomen, torso, one of its bladed arms, even severing one of its legs. If this was a normal creature, the taking this much damage should have at least slowed it down.

Not the case here.

It landed were Strife stood mere seconds ago, swinging out with its scythes. A skillful dodge on Strife's part ensured that his head stayed attached to his neck.

The spider was about to leap forward again when it was jerked backwards. Strife looked down at it's spider like lower body and saw that Rider's nail had impaled the creature. Strife took this chance to unload rounds into the creature's eyes, causing green pus to fly everywhere while simultaneously blinding it.

This many head shots would have killed anything else, but the creature's mysterious resilience once again came into play.

It raised its right arm and brought it down on Strife's head, who managed to block it at the last second using Redemption as an impromptu shield.

Then, with a mighty leap, Rider ascended into the air, landing on one of the bridge's horizontal beams, still holding her chain. She then dropped, and using her chain as a form of crude pulley, lifted the creature, which was still impaled on her nail, off the ground and into the air, while Strife continued to shoot it.

"Die! Die! Die!" Strife grunted every time he pulled the trigger. No matter how many wounds he inflicted on the beast, it didn't seem to notice, as if the green ichor spilling from its body meant nothing to the damned thing.

Then the creature raised both of it's arms and cleaved it's own humanoid torso from it's spider abdomen, and with an inhuman cry, launched itself down at Strife, both arms outstretched, shrugging off all of his rounds.

Then there was a flash of air. Something moving at super speed appeared first in front of strife, then propelled itself into the air, intercepting the creature, and in a burst of wind, the creature was bisected vertically.

The two pieces of the creature fell to the bridge with a loud thud, splashing Strife with green blood.

Strife looked down at the creature, then up at this newcomer.

She was dressed in some sort of bastard combination of a blue dress and a full suit of plate armor. She wore her blonde hair in a bun, and while it looked as if she was holding a weapon in her right hand, it was obscured by swirling wind, so Strife couldn't get a good look at it.

Strife scoffed, "Thanks for the assist, but I could have taken him." He then raised mercy up and discharged a single bullet into both halves of the creature.

The newcomer looked at him with… scorn, and maybe some disappointment, before turning to Rider.

"Rider, what's going on here? What was that thing, and who is this stranger?"

Rider let loose a sigh, "Long story." She replied.

Strife muttered a short stream of swear words in demonic, maker, and several other languages. If it boiled down to it, he could have taken Rider one on one. But dealing with two obvious Grail Servants would be trouble, and more importantly, may hinder his mission. As much as he needled them, he didn't really want to draw the Council's disfavor on himself.

That meant he had to do something he completely abhorred.

Play diplomat.

"I am Strife, rider of the White Horse and agent of the Charred Council." He said to the newcomer as he holstered his guns, "And I come in peace."

"Take me to your leader."

End of Part 1