A silent heartbeat passes over the meadow. As Lancer braces for the sword's impact, the nightmare comes to a slow conclusion. She catches her breath as her eyes widen in panic.

This is no girl.

The frail arm that grips her so fiercely trembles, and ruptures.

No; more properly, it explodes. The skin holding the body together unhinges and explodes, sending small pieces in every which direction.

The frail arm is no more; now, it is a long arm, a long, powerful arm, ripe with muscles that grip it in unnatural places. Long, dazzling claws rake at her precious skin. It has taken no longer than a heartbeat, but it last an eternal lifetime of fear.

The nightmare of a woman tries to lunge free of the monster's grasp, only to sink inhuman claws deeper into her flesh.

She looks at the face under her foot, and a face it is no more – in the place of a bloodied little girl is a monstrosity nearly three, no, four times its original size. And it is still growing.

At first, she is entranced by those golden eyes. They gleam, reflecting light that does not exist in this dark world. It is a light from generations ago, a light brought to a candlewick in a dark London basement to illuminate a corpse. It is a light that should never have been relit, and yet…

And yet, here it is, violently glowing underfoot.

The nasty lips curl into a wicked smile.

Damnatio ad bestias.

Before the world can recognize the monster unleashed upon it, it has thrown the woman by the leg into the knight hurling up the gentle meadow's slope.

Despite his fatigue, Lancer smiles. It has been no longer than an instant, but he was well-aware of the beast slowly rising to stand beside him.

Yes, indeed. Checkmate.

Berserker continues to grow, toppling the others by nearly twice any of their given sizes. Shear-black fur grows long and coarse as the wolf-like beast rises on its hindlimbs. The unbelievably powerful arms rise and fall as the beast heaves with each breath, finally freed of its mortal confines. Lancer takes the opportunity to swish his hair back and stab the earth with the end of his Gae Dearg. Saber stands nearly fifteen feet away, back arched in rage as Assassin rises beside the ironclad warrior.

"What will it be, fellow Heroic Spirits?" Lancer fishes for his most dashing smile as he points Gae Buidhe squarely at Saber. "Shall we duel honorably as chivalrous soldiers do?" He kicks up his chin a little as Berserker hunkers lower, lips drawn back in a warning snarl. Lancer's eyes narrow. "Or should we do this out as barbarians cast out of the Holy cup?"

The opposing force pauses as Assassin straightens up. In the faintly-lit landscape, Lancer must squint to read Assassin's expression; it is one of pure wrath.

The woman sinks into the shadows of the earth. The knight charges uphill once more.

He reacted faster than I could blink – not unusual, from what I've learned in the last 24 hours, but still uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable, but securing. I feel safe, knowing he's here. I feel like no matter what happens, he'll protect me. He'll keep me safe, and he'll help me solve all of this.

He can do it, that's not questionable. What is, however, is what I can and cannot do.

I can't do this.

His swords slice the air, dicing molecules drifting peacefully through. Slime-coated tentacles lash out from the earth beneath us.

Before I could even panic about it, they were sliced up and wiggling lifelessly along my shoes.

I can't do this.

Caster shouts, but my ears don't register his words. New tentacles emerge from the shadowy depths of hell – which is, in truth, the space around each and every one of us – dragging themselves into the physical realm. They curl and gag, choking on the purity of their slayer as he brings them to bits.

I can't do this.

And before I can register it, one easily larger than me stretches forward to coil around my neck. It reaches to its fullest extent, filling every inch of my vision before it pounces on my destruction.

Aw, what the fucking hell. I take a deep breath, honing my senses, nullifying them. I'm done standing around. It twists uncontrollably at the last second – Archer has sliced it clean in half – and I take this as an opportunity.

I run.

First left, then right, then I hold while I force myself to take in a sharp, whistling breath. nullify… don't take in a deep breath, or I'll flood my system.

Slow breathing, slow breathing…

I dodge another then another, weaving my way closer to my target.

Thus far I've only made it past a few; Archer is the one I should be thanking (I never will, not to his face) since he's been slicing and dicing every other damn one that reaches for me.

But it's working. I'm getting closer to Caster – its working!

And its within a heartbeat that something latches itself to my leg, forcing me into the ground with a solid, slippery tug. I can hear Archer above the chaos, but I don't know where he is. I don't know what he says.

All I know is I'm being lifted by the neck above the earth.

Saber lashes out, legendary sword swinging. Berserker charges forward on all fours, colliding full-force into the knight. Massive, clawed hands grip the blade, paws curling over with the intent of crushing the soldier's hands. The beast looms over the knight and opens its mouth to unleash the most blood-curling roar the world can bear, strings of saliva rolling off his teeth and onto the warrior's helm.

But the knight is no fool. As Lancer snakes up from behind, they dodge swiftly to the side with a swing at the man's head. Saber failed, however, to notice the secondary weapon in Berserker's recently-freed paw, a ruby weapon of historic power.

The knight dodges that, just barely getting around the dagger at the tip of the staff. Lancer catches his weapon midair and lands squarely, his back turned towards the knight as he watches the swaying shadows of the earth. Berserker rises, a menacing hunk of desperation, lips drawn back once more, tail swishing as he eyes the knight.

"I will take Saber." Lancer glances up at his partner, now nearly three times larger than himself. Orange eyes meet thirsty golden, and the beast staggers forward.

They will likely try to separate us. Divide et impera.

They also have the advantage of fighting together before now. We do not have that.

However,

Ravens appear out of the thickets of the unseeing darkness. Lancer charges them, impaling several in one swing, acting on nothing but intuition.

We are forces to be reckoned with, ourselves.