Fate/Dark Side of Heaven: Bullet for a Sin
Pairing: Shirou/Rider
(Original concept by: Cloud Link Zero)
Deception, betrayal and backstabbing. Every underhanded tactic was accepted, even welcomed in the bloody battle for the right of possession over the artifact said to be able of granting any single wish.
There was only one immutable truth, a basic principle that was the core of the entire conflict: seven Master would have to summon seven Servants and pit them against each other until only one remained standing.
Not one more, not one less.
That was the only thing that Emiya Kiritsugu was sure he could believe without doubt. The unmoving wall he could entrust his back to. The foundation upon which he could safely build his strategies.
And that base had just crumbled in front of his eyes, taking down with it over nine years of careful preparations, information gathering, physical conditioning and Thaumaturgy training.
There were…. Eight.
-oOo-
Location: Fuyuki city docks – Time: - 149:50:16
Under the command of his Master, Archer disappeared from the battlefield in a shower of golden motes, taking away with him his seemingly never-ending stock of Noble Phantasms.
Saber, Lacer and Rider remained there to contemplate the appearance and power of the arrogant golden Servant and his exchange of blows against the crazed Berserker. For a moment the battle had stopped, the swirling power leaving only a sense of void that wouldn't remain still for long, just like the eye of a storm.
It was none other than the Black Knight to disrupt the stagnancy with his enraged scream.
"Raaaaahhhh," he shouted throwing his head backward before dashing toward the King of Knights with a previously unseen level of rage. The pole he wielded as a weapon, twisted by his power into being a makeshift Noble Phantasms, clashed against the invisible blade of the female Servant.
With only one usable arm, the only thing she could accomplish in spite of her otherworldly skills was to deflect each blow, but she was being pushed back nonetheless.
It was only thanks to the intervention of Lancer who sided with Saber that managed to turn the odds in her favor until….
"Lancer," the voice of Archibald El-Melloi echoed from his hiding place. "I command you to help Berserker… and take down Saber."
She only had a moment to jump back before Gáe Dearg and Gáe Buidhe lashed out at her.
"I'm sorry… Saber," the magic-bound Lancer grunted out apologetically while his body calmly strode toward her, now with the Black Knight by his side as his forced ally.
In a moment they charged at her with blinding speed but as they were about to reach her something happened.
-oOo-
Kiritsugu was aiming at the head of Lancer's Master through the thermal scope of his sniper rifle. A little pressure and his head would explode in a shower of blood, cutting the contract with the Servant that would probably be shaken out of his Command Seal coercion.
He was about to pull the trigger when something whizzed through the air fast enough for him to miss the shape entirely. Further down at his side, where the confrontation between Servants was about to reach a most unfavorable climax, the invisible projectile slammed on the floor, exploding with enough power to send both Lancer and Berserker flying, thought the air.
Immediately Kiritsugu sought out the origin of the attack, but all he managed to see through his thermal scope was a blur of red, streaking through the night toward the heated battlefield.
-oOo-
Iskandar, King of Conquerors froze with his arms half raised. He had every intention of running his Gordius Wheel over Lancer and Berserker, who much to his distaste were about to take against Saber two on one. Then he would give Lancer's Master a piece of his mind for trampling over the pride of his Servant and soiling a sacred battle between knights.
That was when something ripped the air and exploded on the ground, sending the offending Servants flying in opposite directions. Berserker slammed against the containers that lined the docks while Lancer flipped in midair and landed gracefully on the ground a few meters away.
"What the…?" Lancer half asked, befuddled by the sudden events. Whatever the projectile was it left no traces behind but there was no denying that it had been a long range attack.
In spite of that notion all of the presents immediately excluded Servant Archer, as he had already left the scene a while back, and in any case didn't seem to care about other people's problems.
Assassin was supposed to be death, but even then it wasn't the type of Servant to have such powerful and long reaching skills or Noble Phantasms.
The most probable culprit was then Caster but the attack possessed an obvious physical aspect which made it unlikely to be a pure exercise of Magecraft. Could it have been the joint work of a Master its Servant?
Further speculations were halted when the roar of the Black Knight echoed from the twisted pile of metal he had been flung into. Part of the container torn by his body rose in the air, engulfed by the same black fog that denoted his claim over every item he turned into his Noble Phantasms. Much to everyone surprise the metal panel was flung in the direction of the Servant of the Sword, travelling at a speed that only the Berserker Class had the strength to bestow on an object of that shape and size.
Saber fighting instinct took over and her sword effortlessly split the offending box of metal in two parts that continued their flight past her without losing speed. However, the King of Knights had failed to consider her position in regards to her surrogate Master's, who was still frozen on the spot a few meters behind her, unmoving like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Irisviel!" She shouted as her body twisted around and her legs bent to leap in rescue of her friend.
She wouldn't make it in time. She had far less than half a second to cover the distance and take Irisviel out of the way. Even the burst granted from the release of the Wind King would take too long to build up to be of any use and she saw the same realization in the eyes of the white haired woman.
She could help the sudden pang of sorrow in her chest at the prospect of once again failing someone who trusted her with her life.
With a loud, echoing crash the metal plate slammed on the ground where Irisviel used to be.
-oOo-
Kiritsugu observed everything from his elevated position. He watched with adrenaline induced perceptions the impending doom of his wife getting closer. To his relief and confusion he also managed to notice the blur coming at her from the side, snatching her frame away from the impact point a fraction of second before her death turned into reality.
He stopped his course a few meters to the side, with a trembling Irisviel safely held in his arm like a child.
His appearance was... unusual. He wore a pair of tattered jeans and a white shirt with a single blue sleeve. Oddly enough the arm poking out of the sleeveless side was of a darker skin tone compared to the rest of his visible body, which amounted to only the upper half of his face seeing how the lower half was hidden behind a red cloth, wrapped around his neck and mouth like a rough looking scarf. His hair was of strange shade of graying red and his eyes were of two different colors: one gold and other a dull gray.
"Who… are you?" Irisviel asked looking up at her savior, finding her voice again and voicing everyone's question at the same time.
"I am… Servant… Faker…."
-oOo-
Location: ? – Time: + 87.954:32:12
Dark as the black night.
The strongest sword he had ever seen was in his hands. The effort of pulling it out was almost enough to entirely shatter his already unstable mind. Countless memories were gone. People he cared about were forgotten. The girl who had sworn to be his sword and shield had been erased. Names and faces were an indistinguishable blur.
Only one still shined clear through the statics that fogged his brain.
'Sakura,' he thought, clinging to the memory of her shy smile. 'My promise to you…'
He couldn't keep it. He couldn't go back. He wouldn't be able to. Right there and then he would die, destroyed from within by a power that was his and at the same time it was not. He would be completely invaded, consumed by the Inner World of another self that could no longer be him.
But it was fine. His crime had judged him like it was right. He had betrayed everything that made him himself, so it was just fitting that he would crumble down and die. He didn't care about his life after all, that was the one thing that didn't change. The focus of his distortion had narrowed from everyone to a single person, but in the end didn't chance in form.
He had but one wish left and he expressed it fully in his mind as he swung his blade down.
'I want to save her. I want to save Sakura,' he thought.
"VORTIGERN!" his voice shouted instead. And the blade fell. The burst of dark light streamed from it and engulfed the soon to be born God. In its uterus it screamed, wailed and cursed like it was meant to be.
And like it was meant to do he also heeded the desire of the one who last stood to claim the prize.
YOUR WISH SHALL BE GRANTED!
-oOo-
Location: Fuyuki city docks – Time: - 146:45:26
"Ridiculous," Lancer hissed eyeing the self declared Servant. "There is no such a thing like a Faker Class."
"Are you okay?" said Faker asked the woman in his arms, completely ignoring the Servant of the Lance's protests.
"Ah…. I'm fine," Irisviel answered with a light blush on her cheeks as she realized the embarrassing position she was being held into.
"That's a relief," he answered helping her to get back on her feet. She immediately took a few steps away from her mysterious savior. His intervention definitely saved her from a painful if not deadly situation, but that didn't mean she was willing to trust him just because of that.
Who was he, what were his motives? So long as those answered escaped her exercising caution was the best course of action.
"Irisviel are you hurt?" Saber asked running at her and putting herself between him and her charge
"I'm fine Saber. I don't have a scratch," Irisviel answered without removing her gaze from the strange man.
Saber eyed the newcomer with an inquiring glance, her invisible sword clearly ready to react to any and every threatening move on his part.
Faker really didn't seem to be bothered by that but regarded her with an examining look himself.
"Instead of pointing your sword at me you should…"
"GRRAAAAAH!" Berserker howled charging once more toward the target of his apparent obsession.
"… take care of that persistent admirer of yours," he concluded pointing at said individual.
It took Saber less than a tenth of a second to decide that between a potential foe and a declared one it was better to turn her attention to the latter.
"Irisviel, retreat to a safe position," she ordered moving to intercept her enemy. As she approached she noticed the still Command-bound Lancer moved to support the Black Knight once more…
… only to be forced to step back again Faker jumped in front of him.
"Sorry… ganging up on a woman is not something I can overlook. I'll be your opponent for the time being."
Lancer swung his weapons at him but the Faker simply took a few steps back.
"It's not like it was my choice," he growled offended by the jibe at his honor.
"I'm aware of that and I'm not holding it against you," the Faker answered as he kept himself outside of Lancer's reach but still in a position that forced the Servant to realize that he couldn't get to Saber without going through him.
Command seals were a double edged sword after all. They could bend reality and allow Servant to perform things that went beyond their normal skill set and power, but when used improperly they also bound them to a certain behavior until the order was fulfilled or the power worn off.
Helping Berserker and defeat Saber was the order Lancer had been imposed. In order to comply he would have to get there first, if necessary by killing and destroy everything in his path. Therefore, if Faker made himself an obstacle Lancer was forced to engage him, but if the newcomer moved even slightly out of the shortest route Lancer needed to follow his orders the latter was forced to switch to that course.
However, the Command Seal wasn't such an inflexible system to let the Servant be caught in it. When Lancer realized that there was no reaching Saber without removing the Faker the priority of the Seal switched to that new target instead.
"If you don't get out of the way now I'll be forced to kill you," Lancer warned. But his body was already in motion, both spears already moving to strike the enemy to death.
Gáe Dearg hissed ominously toward Faker's face…
CLANG!
… and was halted in its course but nothing less than another Gáe Daerg.
"What the…?" he asked a moment before leaping back, out of the reach of the Gáe Buidhe wielded by the other Servant.
Save for Berserker, who was still madly slamming a pole against Saber's sword, everyone focus had completely shifted to the second pair of spears wielded by the strange man.
"That can't be," Lancer hissed, eyeing the spears warily. It was pretty much what every onlooker was thinking at that point.
Faker didn't bother commenting the remark; instead he shifted lightly backward, assuming the same initial stance Lancer had taken during his initial bout against Saber. Then he spun both spears around wildly showing a prowess worthy of Diarmuid himself and not just someone who held a mere replica of his chosen weapons.
It was so flawless that it was almost a slap in Lancer's face. The stance was so perfectly identical; the movement so much like his own that he couldn't notice any substantial difference that wasn't caused by the difference between their respective heights.
"How is that even possible?"
"It looks like you haven't been taking me seriously up until now, have you? I am Servant Faker. With a Class like that, what did you think my specialization could be?"
He didn't wait for an answer as he needed none. Capitalizing on his opponent's shock, Faker darted forward with a speed that was on par with Lancer's and struck at him with just as much precision and strength. The only thing the Diarmuid could do was to fight a surreal battle against himself.
-oOo-
Tohsaka Tokiomi gripped his chair with enough strength to make the wood groan in protest.
An Eight Servant? Faker Class? What in the Root's name was this treachery?
He thought the man to be an imposter, but according to Kirei's reports coming directly from one of his Assassin's eyes, this so called Faker was pushing Lacer back using the same Noble Phantasms and skills of said Servant. There was no way something like that could be human. Even the Organization's Enforcers and the Church's Executioner couldn't keep up with entities such as incarnated Heroic Spirits. Probably only an exponent of the Shinso or a high ranked Dead Apostle Ancestor could hope to compare but the odds were still not in their favors.
Furthermore this ability to replicate Noble Phantasms and skills sounded too much like a Noble Phantasm itself. Could it be that he, the current head of one of the founding families, didn't know something about the Grail?
The perspective was… grim. If there was one thing he ignored about the system it could mean that there were more. The situation was entirely too screwed up to consider continuing with his initial strategies. He'd have to play his hand even more carefully, especially now and he had used a Command Seal.
Things had just become entirely too messed up.
-oOo-
In the dark basement of the church Kotomine Kirei watched the battle unfold through the eyes of one of his Servants. The so called Faker had immediately capitalized his attention beyond the mere mystery of his existence.
His appearance, clothing, behavior, body language seemed to hint at a burden he was carrying. He was without a doubt a haunted man.
What was his plight? What fueled his cause? What caused the birth of an individual without a strength or technique that he could call his own but able to replicate others'?
There were so many questions and very little answers. Kirei found himself utterly captivated by that tormented soul but the reason for this complete escaped his conscious mind. Perhaps he had just discovered a more interesting subject than Emiya Kiritsugu.
If that was the case he would better keep a close eye on him. A very close eye.
-oOo-
"Idiot," she muttered as she watched from afar. "That wasn't part of the plan."
It was too soon for them to act out in the open. They didn't have enough elements to control the events properly but in hindsight she should have seen it coming. Even though he had thrown away his ideals he still wasn't the kind of person who could stand aside and watch people die and suffer. If he did he would no longer be the person Sakura fell in love with.
This meant they would have to rethink the entire scenario. They could no longer afford to move in the shadows now that he exposed himself. And what was that Servant Faker idiocy? Where did he come out with that stuff?
Then again he was handling the impromptu situation quite well. Lancer was positively stunned by having to fend off his own style and weapons, and the rest of the onlooker certainly didn't know what to make of the current turn of events.
It worked well, she had to admit. Planting the seed of doubt in the minds of the participants was the first important step they had set for himself. It wouldn't stop the war, that was certain but they didn't need to do that. Their primary objective was another anyway.
She could understand now why Sakura loved him as much as she did. Even if he had thrown away his ideals, he didn't regret a single thing. So, she too didn't regret her choice.
'In order to save Sakura, please lend me your strength.'
Those were the words they spoke to each other. The common objective they declared to forge a contract like no other before. He didn't stagger on his chosen path so she would trust him as much as Sakura did. Yes, right there and then she had no problem with calling him Master.
-oOo-
Location: Emiya Household– Time: + 87.944:15:32
"Are you sure about this?" the red haired boy asked, eyeing her as she stood in the middle of the summoning circle.
"Sakura asked me to protect you, therefore I shall do so. Do you find the terms of our cooperation to be unsatisfactory?"
"Not at all. Thank you for trusting me enough to do this."
"My Master seems to believe in you a lot. The least I can do is to trust that faith myself."
"Very well. Let us begin then, Rider," he lifted his hand and she felt the spark of energy that denoted the activation of his Circuits. Beneath her, the Circle hummed and lighted to life.
"I hereby propose…"
-oOo-
Location: Fuyuki city docks – Time: - 144:50:16
Lancer skidded was forced back under the onslaught. Things were far worse that he had initially thought. Facing his own technique and weapons was a tremendous thing but not one he couldn't overcome. Those were his skills and no one knew them better than he did.
And yet, every time he intended to exploit one of the holes in his technique to turn the table against his opponent he found himself blocked and under attack.
"How…," he practically growled. "How am I losing to a mere imitation?"
Instead of attacking, Faker leaped back, still keeping himself between Lancer and Saber.
"Your skills are indeed amazing, Servant of the Lance, however…"
He stepped forward, Gáe Buidhe and Gáe Daerg spinning at his side like twin whirlwinds.
"… there is no rule that says that an imitation cannot surpass the original."
"This is absurd," he muttered in disbelief.
"Here I come, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. Are you ready to die in service of your lord? "
"That is enough Lancer," a voice echoed from every direction at once. "We are done for this night."
Without a sound of acknowledgement, Lancer faded into spirit form, leaving the battlefield in utter humiliation.
"Feh," Faker scoffed at Lancer's Master. "A spoilsport till the end."
He then turned to Berserker, who was still engaged in his battle with Saber. Perhaps detecting the shift in the battle-flow, Berserker leapt away from Saber and stopping several meters away from both of them. He then disappeared as well, undoubtedly forced into spirit from by his Master.
Without a word, Faker leaped away onto a row of containers.
"Wait," Saber called out. "Who are you? Why did you involve yourself in this battle?"
"My reasons are my own," he replied dismissing the spears in his hands. "But I shall part with a warning."
A strange looking bow formed in his hand, followed by an equally strange looking arrow. He cocked the projectile on the bow and with utmost fluidity he shoots toward the highest crane on the docks.
Servant Assassin didn't have time to consider withdrawal. The 'arrow' passed through his chest like it was made of paper, ripping his chest apart.
His body fell on the ground, blood spewing from the mouth behind the mask.
"The Holy Grail War is a scam," Faker announced. "The Church is aligned with Tohsaka, as is Assassin's Master, Kotomine Kirei. From the very beginning this War was a deception, and the Grail is not what you believe it to be."
"What do you mean by that?" a timid Waver Velvet asked from his place in Rider's chariot.
"I will tell you no more," Faker declared. "I have no proof of what I say so I'll spare the words. I shall give you a hint though. During the Third War there was another unorthodox Servant, summoned by the Einzbern. Find out who it was and you'll be a step closer to the truth."
"Wait," Saber called out once more but she was cut off by Faker before she could voice her question.
"King of Knights," Faker said aloud. "No matter what your wish is, the Grail cannot make it become true. Only despair and hopelessness lie at the bottom of that wretched cup. If you don't believe me, seek out the truth for yourself."
And with that he leaped beyond the line of container, disappearing from view. The people who remained were too dumbfounded by his words to pay notice to the fact that he hadn't gone in spirit from before leaving.
The only certain thing at that point was that the War had just gotten a hell more interesting, and perhaps scary.
Fate: Dark Side of Heaven: Bullet for a Sin - Chapter 1 (END)
Coming next: No Fate