This is an original fiction, set in the Fate/Stay Night universe. Attempts have been made to explain mechanics where needed, but novices will likely be in over their head, if unfamiliar. Most parts were written by me. Saber and Lacie's parts were written by a friend in real-life, who goes by the handle RagDollPuppy. As usual with something like, this, all hail Nasu and Type-Moon, and this universe belongs to them, along with characters, names, concepts, etc., they came up with. Most characters are original. If you can look up their name and find them on Type Moon wiki, then they're not ours. Finally, please don't steal this. We'd be quite cross. If you wish to post this somewhere else, just fire me a message! I don't bite. :)

Fate/False Sacrifice

Chapter 4:

IIILacieIII

Perseus stood tall again, posing wondrously as Caster faded away in small red flecks of blood. He looked good, but Marius, watching with the little reservoir of prana he had left after managing Lancer, only noted how open Lancer had left himself. The damn fool was more interested in showing off, than getting a good position, and with Marius'…lack of prana…

"...You're Perseus." Lacie says, as one of her eye twitches. Perseus…seems to have an annoyed expression on his face. "Damn, I should have guessed. Of *course* I'll get recognized right away, with five noble phantasms!" Perhaps Marius' thinking went that this wasn't a comedy, and Perseus should just get to it. "So, where is your Master Perseus? Is he so much more pathetic than you that he won't show his face?" Roland remarks as he leisurely walks towards Perseus.

"Yeah, I kinda got stuck with a sucky master, you know? But, I am Perseus, so I've gotta win this thing for myself." He mostly is still, but the wings on his sandals propel him upwards slightly. He was ready to move. Perhaps if he had a better master, his speed would be almost unparalleled, but as was, he was relying on this advantage. Every Noble Phantasm of his required prana, after all. In response Saber gripped his Durandal more tightly, without readying it, as if to say Perseus isn't worth his best.

Perseus' first strike with Harpe is something Roland parries easily. The second, and third, are the same. While it might seem Perseus was keeping up his momentum, without a proper supply of prana, his full power isn't possible, and Saber is a juggernaut who requires full concentration. In the fourth strike, Harpe is pinned to the ground. Saber has the chance he needs. Roland pins the scythe down with one foot and slashes at the defenseless Perseus. A burst from Perseus' wings, and…

Blood flies through the air. Healing would be easy for a proper magus, one who has not decayed through these strange events, but the wound that was halfway through Perseus was something he only survived because he was a servant. Propelled by his sandals, he was kept up by them, barely keeping his stature.

"D-damn." Perseus was unused to defeat, and the order that came next…he didn't want to be a coward like he almost was against the Gorgon. "I can…keep going." The influence of a command spell called him back. He was entirely too gutsy for someone whose blood covered the ground in ample amounts. But, resisting a command spell is something he can't do in this state. Roland shouts out one last retort as Perseus retreats. "Tell your pitiful excuse for a master that she should show up next time and I'll show her what a real man fights like."

Perseus had a retort ready, but his sandals already were carrying him away. Damn, his master really was like a woman, submissively laying in his damn sanctum. He'd have to see about fixing this damned situation. He was better than this.

Meanwhile, Lacie is standing restless "GODDAMMIT! I didn't get to do anything." Only the night air answers her. That is, not at all. Some eyes might be considered to be watching her, but as their presence was not known, they did not count. A slithering sound came, as the shadow departed.

-Albert Leed-

"Albert, you have wasted a command spell, and come back here with only defeat." It was truly a ludicrous thing, that his family had stayed here. But, they were abundant in their arrogance. A merger between two magus families who, despite rising in ranks slowly, and having the excellent magical circuits through breeding, did not have anything wondrous to say for their research, which had failed to procure anything that could be called a spectacular magic crest.

This of course, resulted in the rather strange situation that he saw here. Even though the Holy Grail War had started, they still resided here, with servants in tow, brainwashed by magic to serve their masters whims while ignoring anything out of the ordinary. His mother, Lynn Leed, who was the one who had spoken, was not the one who received the Magic Crest, that was his father, Robert. Albert got his simple name from that side of the family.

"Yes, mother, but…the power of Berserker, if I hadn't retreated…!" A wave from Father, he seated himself again, realizing he had stood. Father was the one who had passed on the magic crest, and the one who was the head of this household. "Assassin, Berserker, Saber, these three have revealed themselves to you. You have their statistics, correct?" Albert nodded, they seemed to think they were strategists.

"Write them down, and we'll present a strategy to you. You obviously can't think of one under pressure. This is over." Albert just sneered. But, before his thoughts could continue, his father spoke again. "As well, there has been a murder. Have any of the magi in this war seemed to be the type who would…prey on the novice magi?" To declare an end to it, then inquire about this, it must be important.

Lacie and Saber: Too proud to stoop to such a thing.

Assassin's master: An unknown quality. Perhaps Trenton? It was a possibility.

Berserker: Another unknown.

"There are a few who could do such a thing. I'm not sure which." But he would try to find out. "Do so, Albert. If you can find the perpetrator, who is violating the rules that have been established, we might be able to negotiate a reward. For now, just reflect on your mistakes in your room." To be commanded like that…such a thing shouldn't be happening, he had Rider, he…

Had a servant who could destroy this entire household if he wished. He didn't have to deal with this. "This is my war." His parents gawked, surprised he still showed resistance. "I'll fight it my way. Rider, and me, we'll do this our own way." They looked back, incredulous, standing up from the dinner table.

"Albert, are you saying you *reject* our help?" These peoples faces, the people he should consider to be his parents, didn't seem anything of the sort to him. Rather, they seemed to be strangers. This made sense when he thought about it. After all, they were magi above parents.

"Yes." That one word was all that was needed to confirm it. "I wonder if it ever was help." This luxurious western house, it seemed like it was something foreign to him, despite living here for all these years. It was like his own rejection reversed time, making this place seem foreign before his feelings had caught up, to say that he had become different from before.

In contrast to that, his parents seemed in shock. He did his best not to let them have any time to rebuke. He passed them quickly, moving as fast as he could. Unfortunately, this was a large mansion, and he had too much space to cover to be able to escape without them rebuking him.

But he didn't listen to them. Instead, he was formulating plans in his own mind. His sanctum was still open to him, as it was in a separate building. It had its own boundary field, set up by him, and there would be no need to bother with his parents if he did not need to. Simply forcing them out of this game was entirely possible.

That wasn't the important bit, however. What was important…was overcoming Berserker. That servant was one that he would need to defeat. Rider's noble phantasm was that sort of showy, one-use Anti-Army type that would need to be used late-game, so he had to find some other way to finish this fight. He could leave it to the other servants, but there was entirely the possibility of getting attacked now that several masters knew his identity.

One of those, had a servant who would be entirely keen to an alliance. He sighed, shutting the large doors of the mansion in his parents' face. He owed this particular master an apology. They had butted heads a lot of times.