Archer glares unconditionally at me when I return to the main camp with Lancer.

"You shouldn't just get up and leave."

"Thanks for the clothes."

He huffs, folding his arms across his chest and kicking up his chin at me. His white hair dances in the almost morning light.

Speaking of which…

"So, where's the sun?"

Berserker smiles form his place beside Archer – in comparison, he's nearly two full head's shorter than Archer. He looks way younger, too. I bet Archer was giving him hell the whole time. "The sky isn't deprived of the sun, forsay, as much as it is simply unwilling to grant it to us." He turns a little and points up beyond the tree tops. I make my way over to his side to follow his finger. "See? Up there? The colors… are… disoriented?" He looks at me, praying internally that he's making sense to a noob like me.

No, it's a perfect way to describe it. When I enhance my eyes, I can see exactly what he's saying; it can't be any larger than a pea at arm's length in size, but the colors contract around themselves, hues of blue, black, and purple swirling like the eye of some hurricane.

"No, I get it. What's happening?"

"The atmosphere cast over the region is a sort of… umbrella, due to added elements in the space around us. We cannot see the sun because we are in a dome of sorts, but the solar light is penetrating the dome's imperfections."

"Fair enough."

"I am concerned, however, about the expansion of this 'dome.'" He drops his arm to cup his chin in a dainty hand. "At the rate it appears to have been expanding o'ernight, I would be surprised it if didn't cover the latter half of this hemisphere."

"Shit. You're kidding."

The little scientist is taken back by my expression. "Well… no, I am not excreting in humor."

"No, that's not what I-"

"We need to discuss our plan of action," Archer interrupts, taking a step closer to us. He's like a dog that's desperate for attention. Lancer takes his place on a jagged stone beside us, perched with one of his staffs digging into the earth. He tosses the string of fish that was slung over his shoulder on to the ground between us. "Agreed. Let us get to the details, we are running out of time."

And I'm not gonna lie, I didn't catch all of it. But between bites of magically-cooked fish (thanks to Berserker snapping his fingers a few times) and another few birds Archer took down for us, I think I caught most of it. The important parts, that is.

I stand up and wipe my hands on my jeans, which are defiantly going to be thrown away at the end of all of this, interrupting Archer as he argues with Lancer… again.

"What?" He spits, furious as ever. "Please tell me you are still paying attention."

"I need some air."

"You can keep breathing right here. We need to-"

"Archer," I look up at him, shutting him up momentarily. "The plan is fine. It will work. I don't see any problems with it."

"Clearly. You would if you had the mental capacity beyond that of a primate."

"Enough, nameless man." Lancer's leaning back against the same stone as earlier, one leg propped up as he rubs the tension out of his brow. "You truly must not talk to Ms. Hashimoto in such a disrespectful manner."

"Well, someone needs to." Archer straightens up to his full height as his eyes shoot daggers at Lancer. "You forget this fool hardly has the makings of a mage, let alone a soldier. You have too many expectations for her here. She can't do it."

"Shut the fuck up."

Berserker reclines from beside me as Lancer heaves a sigh. Archer arches a brow, folding his arms (for the millionth time). I glare at him, this ruby protect o' mine, matching him eye for eye.

"I. am going. to get. some air."

"No you're-" I'm already on my heel, walking in the opposite direction. I walk until I can't hear him anymore, and Lancer erupts behind me in rage. Berserker says something too, but I can't make it out.

I'm followed by silence, an eerie silence that comes from being in a dead, frightened forest, and I walk until I can't anymore. I lean face first into a tree and sigh as some drapes materialize behind me. They drop slowly, flanking his sides.

I keep walking. Then he walks beside me. Then he walks in front of me. As if he's going to lead me anywhere! But I fall into place behind him without thinking: he is my protector, after all. That's what he's been doing from the beginning.

"I don't like this."

"Clearly," I retort, hands on my hips as we march further from the group. I'm following him like I always have, but when he pauses I feel in instant sense if intimidating apprehension. "What's your problem, Archer? You don't think I'm good enough for this?"

"What, you do?"

"Shut up," I bark, folding my arms over my chest. "It doesn't matter how I feel about it, because it'll work."

"And what makes you say that, girl?" Archer turns around and marches up to me, angry eyes marrying his handsome face. "What on Earth makes you possibly think that this will work?"

"You don't trust me! You don't think I can do it!"

"No, it's not that - you're avoiding the question."

"Okay, then… then it'll work because I trust you guys!" I shout furiously, flustered as I stumble over my words and my cheeks turn pink. Shit, I can't take that back, can I?

"Girl, I came here to-"

"Okay, enough with the degrading tone!" I wave my hands between the two of us. His eyes are slightly narrowed, giving off a slightly smokey amber look of dismay. "If we're going to have an honest conversation, I want you to speak to me with respect. I might be younger than the rest of you…. and inexperienced…. and new to this end-of-the-world crap, but I'm still capable of seeing eye-to-eye! I'm willing to try, isn't that enough?"

"And that will be the death of you!" His voice rises as he speaks over me. "Why the hell do you think I've been trying to keep you safe this whole time? Did the thought ever cross your simple little mind? Did you ever take a moment to think over how mortal you are, compared to the rest of us?"

I march off – not in the direction of confused Lancer and Berserker, but just away from it all.

Who does he think he is? Doesn't he see that I see this?

He follows me after a moment, and we're back to square one – this time, my back is to him, and he stands behind me. I can't put into words how I feel right now – humiliated? Broken? I'm scared as hell, that's for sure, but up to five minutes ago I felt capable of stepping forward. Now the guy who's been with me from the beginning is breaking me down?

Who am I kidding.

I thought this whole time that… I don't know, I was important or something. That I was destined for something greater than the measly life I've had. My fate was going to slide me off my feet and dance me away… I, I was going to be something beyond average! Something worth standing up for! Someone worth standing up for!

But all I am to this asshole is a burden.

I'm fuming.

I'm pissed!

I…

I'm scared.

"So I'm… I'm nothing more than a tool for you, is that it? I'm just a fool that's going to be killed. This whole mess happened because of me, and everyone's going to die because of me – I'm nothing more than a fat mistake."

.

The heavy pause confirms my fears. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my forearms in frustration. A single tear swells in the cradle of my eye.

But I refuse to let it fall.

.

"Where I come from," his voice lingers on the hinge of time itself, "you are so much more than that." I stiffen at his words: they're nothing more than lies.

"I didn't come here to serve someone – a master, a grudge– but for a personal purpose." My head shakes as he rounds my shoulder to face me; it's the easiest way to avoid his sharp eyes. They are softening in a way I didn't think was physically possible, and I can't bear to see the stoic demigod he is all soft like this. "You are of so much value to the future, and to throw it all away now is nonsense."

"Shut the hell up."

"Let me speak. You do remember that the Grail must bring forth a willing Heroic Spirit, don't you?" I slowly close my eyes to shut him out.

"I am not from this time, but I am from this place." He reaches for my hand, this full-grown man, this nameless face, but I yank it away. "Where I am from, your brother lived." I glance at him but force my eyes away. How dare he speak of Takao with his fatass lies! "Your brother went on to pave a bright future for magecraft on an international scale. And he came back to Japan to find you dead."

I… I die. I die, where he's from. Takao is alive, somewhere.

No, he's lying.

"You're lying." I try to be militant, but my voice is weak.

Archer keeps going. "You died for reasons unknown to the public. You were young, and that triggered a reaction in your brother no one could have expected. He worked day and night to end violence in every way possible." I can almost see him crossing his arms over his broad chest, mimicking me in his frustration. "That is how I got to know him. We worked together, Takao and I, and he helped me find my targets.

You never asked how I became a Heroic Spirit. I became a Heroic Spirit by killing hundreds in order to save thousands. Then thousands to save millions. And your brother helped me."

"SHUT UP!" I scream, stomping like the brat I am. "Shut up shut up shut up! No more lies, you fucking monster! Stop talking about Takao like that! HE is DEAD, Archer! He died!" I step closer to him, my body shaking just as much as my voice. "And he would never condemn someone to be killed by the likes of you."

"Not where I am from. Your death fuels your brother. He realizes the ultimate truth. H-"

"And what is this truth, pray tell?"

"That you simply cannot save everyone. That, in order to save someone, someone else must be sacrificed." I don't say anything (what kind of a truth is THAT?) and he continues. "When I died, your brother and a few others were left waiting for me to return. And we spoke once about the girl he called sister. She - no, you-"

"SHUT UP!"

"You were brash and so self-centered, yet so unaware of your potential as a person. You were a girl that had the world sitting on a silver platter, but didn't have the ambition to go out and get it. Your brother wanted to guide you, but you wouldn't accept his help. You-"

"Shut. Up."

"You died, Kazumi Hashimoto. You are dead where I came from." The burn of his eyes on the top of my head diminishes. I look up to see him glancing sideways, unable to look at me. "But here, something I left behind several years ago was found by your brother. This corruption of the Holy Grail, combined with my carelessness, leads to Takao's death. Here, there is nothing I can do to protect him. But I can protect the one thing that meant the most to him."

We are silent. I want to walk away from him, but I physically can't – my legs are swollen, and they refuse to move.

So I hunker down and wrap my arms around my legs, head down in defeat.

Kill me now, you fucker. Kill me now like your words have.

"I thought for the longest time that the sacrifice was unavoidable." I can't see his expression, but I see him take a few steps to look up in another direction. "I thought… I thought that not being able to save everyone was the essence of trying to save everyone. That thinking it all through was but naught. That the world was either kill or be killed, and it took one hell of a slap to the face… well, a sword to the stomach, if I'm being truthful," his voice falls wistful and ironic, as if he's reflecting on something a million miles away. "For me to realize that this was no truth."

He plops down, ungracefully, unpoetically. For two minutes, his walls are down as he sits beside me – leg kicked out straight, the other bent with his forearm slung across it. The warrior I feared and the soldier I relied on has melted into nothing more than a man.

I look at him.

He won't look at me, this scarlet savior. His eyes trace the stars above, the unnatural stars that won't give light to the sun. He leans back, all of his weight on his other arm, propping himself up, holding his head as high as he can without sulking down into the exhausted Earth.

He has never had anyone to rely on; well, he has, but he never gave himself that luxury. He always took care of himself and overlooked those in his life.

"Because that sacrifice could be myself, and as painful as it is to admit and uphold, I posses the strength to carry that pain." The breeze stirs his hair from the back, forcing it forward onto his brow.

For an instant, I can almost see a red-headed boy from a dream a million years ago. Almost.

He turns to me, eyes soft, no longer weighed down by the devastation of the real world. "You need to remember what can and cannot happen. You need to be reminded of your limits – because, as you said, you are the only normal one here. I would never forgive myself if I let you die." He turns back to the stars. "That promise I made a few years ago is the only thing I can hold on to. It is my only reason for being here as a so-called Heroic Spirit, and I would be nothing more than a bastard if I broke that."

How do you respond to that? Honestly, can you tell me now?

All I can do is cringe as my ears burn with everything they have. I curl tighter to avoid everything and everyone around me… maybe if I get small enough, tight enough, everything will slip away.

Maybe I should just nullify myself. I bet that if I go null long enough, I might just kill myself. I could do that, I could do that easily, given the circumstances.

"That shield."

I look up, instantly and painfully aware of the tears in my eyes.

This is nonsense.

"It's a replica of Rho Aias. The holy shield of a Greek hero. He was a critical soldier in the Trojan War and was trained by a centaur."

"That's not possible." I huff, exhausted just by listing to him. I see him smile his wry little smile and roll his eyes. "Really? After everything you've seen in the last day, that's what you're caught up on?" He turns to look at me but notices how I crumbled at his sass. He sighs (it's a silent one, but I can hear his chest rise and fall in the awkward silence) and tries again. "Either way, after he was declared a hero, he still wanted to avenge his fallen comrades and wanted to kill the surviving enemies – Odysseus and Agamemnon, in particular. In his rage he killed a herd of sheep… not a particularly sinister thing, but he was so torn up about it he killed himself when he came to his senses." I rub my eyes violently as he gently presses on.

"To think that he survived one of the most horrific wars of humankind, yet killed himself over some spilled sheep blood… its awful ironic. He could have become so much more than that, but he's defined by his final actions and the things he left behind. So, he's the man who killed some sheep because he was pissed, and dropped a shield for a lone boy to buy in a knack store, apparently." I can see his fingers curl and straighten as he is irritated by his own story. "Imagine that. Being a national hero in the strongest corner of this little world, only to die a discarded rumor."

"Is that what you're afraid of?"

"No. You know I already died; I no longer have a reason to drag a sword across the Earth to engrave my name. I forgot my name for the longest time, believe it or not."

"Then why the hell are you telling me this?"

His white hair dances a little in the gentle wind. "Because you being here is the ultimate irony. You will be an active participant in the world's greatest magi war, yet you will only be seen as a sheep-killer, if anyone lives to know what happens today. For that reason, I don't think you should be here."

"But maybe it isn't irony." He pulls his leg in and sits up straight before standing up. "Maybe its fate." He walks to me and waits for me.

I look up to see him offering his hand.

It's a gentlemanly notion, even from this asshole.

I hesitate, but take it. He is gentle, this man coated in red, this man without a name.

"I know this is overwhelming. I know this is tiring, and I know there are a thousand other places to be right now. But while you are here and alive, I vow to protect you. I will kill thousands to keep that promise, if it falls to that. But do you see why I don't like this plan?"

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I can't protect you from everything. What we're about to do is something no one has tried before, from what I hear. I can protect you from whatever Caster throws at you, but what I can't do is protect you from what happens afterwards."

"Like?"

"Ever hear of PTSD? I can shoulder the burdens of the world, but no one can shoulder your burdens but yourself, and this will be a burden unparalleled."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because its hard to lose a partner. You're going to lose us all. I can't protect you from that."

.

.

.

Do you know who the original owner of Rho Aias was? A guy some called Aias, but I know him as Ajax. Sophocles wrote about him, I suggest you look it up. Ajax has two endings actually, one of which is Sophocles' play, the other is the more original telling. I chose Sophocles' ending because it was the more memorable of the two; in the other telling, Ajax is furious and sorrowed by the fact that he wasn't awarded Achilles' magic armor (instead it was given to Odysseus, and as you can imagine, he kinda earned it…) and he fell upon his sword in grief. Either way, he's an emotional teenager with an incredible sword and shield ;)