February 1st, Tuesday

A big and majestic white deer appeared before me. A beautiful creature that, with an elegant step, made the surface of the jade water tremble. I, on the shore, saw the animal approaching and dragging behind a pale cloud made of stars and sapphire fires. The deer stopped, folded its legs and fell asleep by the shore. I reached out and touched its snow-colored coat; I could feel its warmth, its heartbeat and its calm breathing. So another hand accompanied mine. I turned and saw an elderly woman whose body was covered in the steel of a medieval armor. I didn't know who she was and yet I felt like I knew her. She smiled at me and, taking my hand, led it to the deer's head.

"She has yet to wake up, but she will when you're ready," she said softly.

"Ready? Ready for what?"

"For battle."

The annoying sound of the alarm clock broke the spell of that dream.

I opened my eyes and gave a hit to silence that infernal device. It would've been really nice to stand in front of that lake petting the white deer instead of going to school. I took my time getting up and getting ready for the day. After the usual 'good morning' to my parents and my sister, and after a hot shower, I avoided breakfast and went back to my room to get dressed. I thought back to the dream and immediately opened a black notebook I kept in my desk drawer to quickly write down what I had seen. I didn't want to forget the deer or the old lady either… That moment of peace with that tinge of mystery had enticed me, made me want to go back to that place and find out more.

'How I wish I was a oneironaut!' I thought sadly. 'To be able to decide what to dream about and have total control of dreams… that would be really cool!'

I looked at the watch: it was just thirty minutes to eight o'clock. I put the notebook away and got ready to go out. Living in a house a few steps from the high school I was attending allowed me to have quite peaceful awakenings, I never felt the pressure of the clock.

My house wasn't large, it had two floors, but in its modest size it was cozy. My and my sister's bedrooms were on the east side on the first floor, our parents' room was on the west side along with the closet; the bathroom and kitchen were on the west side on the ground floor, while to the east there was the library. The central body of the house was divided into two parts: atrium and dining room. The walls wore second-hand photographs and paintings, some of the furniture, like the sofa and small bookcase in the atrium, dated back to my great-grandfather's time and were exquisitely decorated, but others, like the dining table, were new and anonymous. The most 'modern' rooms were mine, my sister's, the bathroom and the kitchen, everything else still had an aesthetic that could refer to the sixties or even the fifties.

To go to school, I wore the same jeans as on Monday, took one of the five sweatshirts I had, and fastened some comfortable shoes which, despite being two years of age, were still intact. I took my backpack and left the house first.

A wall barely three feet high supported a railing that added another two, maybe three feet to the border. There wasn't much space outside the house, three of the four sides were surrounded by the bare asphalt that was between the border and the walls; the only garden present was rectangular in shape and housed some roses, daisies and even small garden fir trees.

My house overlooked Viale Vittorio Veneto, in the city of Siena, from it was possible to admire the beautiful fountain of the public gardens. It took me less than twenty minutes to reach Via Cesare Battisti, where the high school I attended was located; I was always on time.

I entered with that hundred students, greeted some friends I only knew face to face and walked, together with my classmates, the corridor impregnated with the smell of disinfectant. The high school was considered among the best in the city, its classrooms were always well cleaned; the pale walls didn't have a single sign of dirt, and the desks and chairs were of quality. Lorenzo, the head of the class, kindly greeted me and asked:

"Have you watched Prometheus?"

"I haven't had the time, I swear," I replied hastily.

"Watch it, I recommend it. Back home, I'll watch the entire Alien quadrilogy and then, tomorrow, I'll meet with Luca and Chiara to watch Alien vs. Predator. Would you like to come as well?"

"Maybe another time."

Lorenzo was a good person, there was no doubt about that, but his love for that franchise sometimes seemed like a real obsession. I took my place in front of the window and Carlo, my uncomfortable desk mate, took care to remind me, in that typical pedantic tone of his:

"Remember we have a test today. Mathematics. I was able to study and then I also had time to learn more about the great Italian patriots of the 19th century. Since we have the history test in a few weeks, I can help you study. I can't wait to tell you about the dark side of Crispi! I know things you can't even imagine!"

Through his glasses I could see those know-it-all blue eyes. Carlo was one of those who turned on the television just to watch tons of documentaries. I didn't consider him an intelligent guy, maybe he was and he didn't show it, but most of the time it was clear that he was someone who loved to collect notions on notions; usually it was useless stuff. I still memorized on WhatsApp a very long conversation I had with him about a week ago. The subject was a research we had to do about Giuseppe Garibaldi. Carlo, of course, had filled me with useless information such as: Garibaldi's favorite food, his most famous scandals, and things like that. I too loved historical figures, but he wasn't interested in their deeds but only in the most irrelevant things. Besides, he loved conspiracies and conspiracy theories.

"And don't forget that we have to choose the topic we'll have to discuss in the high school exam! Do you already know what to do?"

"It's only February, for God's sake…" I muttered in shock.

"Do you think it makes a difference? February, May… you have to be quick, you know? Fast and efficient. If you waste time doing nothing, you won't graduate."

"Sure, sure…" I murmured.

"You studied for the test?"

"Yes," I lied.

"For real?"

"Yes."

"If you say so… I won't help you this time. Last week I took a big risk for you, this time it won't be like that."

"Don't worry, I won't ask you anything. You're happy?"

"But are you sure you have studied?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed annoyed. "Stop pestering me!"

"I just want to tell you that you have to study if you want to make up for those bad grades."

"And what do you know?"

"You and Diego are the only two with more than three bad grades. If you don't study, you will both not pass."

"Mind your business…" I commented in a low voice.

"Did you say something?"

"Nothing, forget it."

At that moment Diego Corvini, a boy with short black hair, with a dark blue tuft hanging from the fringe, approached us; his dark eyes were serious but kind, and his thin body was always covered in black or gray sweatshirts.

"Pietro," he said looking at me, "I wanted to thank you for yesterday. You helped me a lot, thank you… really."

He was referring to when I had helped him find a necklace that he had lost during the gym hour. It was a very simple Japanese necklace in truth.

"You don't have to thank me," I said modestly, "it was a pleasure for me to help you."

"Thank you anyway, Pietro."

He sat down again.

"Did you notice that he didn't smile even once?" Carlo asked in a low voice.

"Yes, I've noticed, but I don't think it's a problem. Maybe he's an introverted person."

"Or he's someone who doesn't feel emotions. I read a book from my father where it is said that those who do not feel emotions are sociopaths. What do you say? I've never seen him smile, ever. For me he's a sociopath…"

"What kind of book have you read?!"

"A great one. Maybe one of the best," he replied with a proud smile.

"Yeah… 'one of the best', uh?"

Carlo always had the best books. While the rest of Siena had books full of lies and false myths, Carlo's house was full of the 'right texts'. He liked to think this way and it was clear, I certainly didn't have to use telepathy to understand that that myopic narcissist was convinced that he always had the truth on his side.

Professor Vitale entered the classroom. This tall, slender fifty-year-old woman had the face of a turkey and she always wore clothes that reminded me of my grandmother: sweaters that appeared to be homemade and long skirts lacking in personality.

"Sit down, now the lesson begins," she said aloud. "Today we will continue to talk about Giovanni Giolitti and his government. Open the books and… Luca, lower that hand of yours. You can't ask questions if I haven't even started the lesson."

"Don't worry professor," Simone exclaimed, "he just wants to know what his name is."

The class laughed at the memory of when poor Luca forgot to write his name on his history test two months ago.

"Come on, be good. Now let's begin."

After the two hours of history, the two hours dedicated to the damned math test began. When I found myself in front of that sheet, I immediately prepared to see it marked by a '4' or a '3'. For me, mathematics was like the Akkadian language. I could not understand any questions, I struggled to solve complex mathematical problems and hammered with my fingers the calculator in the hope of getting results that made any sense. Sometimes I happened to glance at Carloìs or Chiaraìs paper—she was a kind of genius—and when I saw even a single number different from the one I had written, I panicked. I erased my solution and rewrote it in an attempt to achieve the same result as them… but I couldn't. I never could. When it was time to submit the completed tests, I looked into the professor's eyes; he had the face of someone who was used to seeing me fail… He was a hunter loading his shot, ready to fire. In this case his rifle was a new red pen ready to be deflowered on my test. It was humiliating to know I was so incompetent, but I had gotten used to it. I had left behind the hope of being able to improve.

During the break, as usual, I had to make myself safe from Leopoldo and Matteo; they were friends who shared a passion: bullying. I didn't know anything about any of them, except that they had the appearance and bearing of petty criminals. Leopoldo was the one who gave the orders, Matteo was more of a henchman unable to think for himself. They both loved attacking the weaker ones and I was on their list. In the past I was more inexperienced and easily fell into their web; when I was beaten, I always hid the bruises from my parents. I didn't want to worry them and I didn't want to involve the teachers or the entire school. I wanted to end my school career in peace, without rocking the boat or splitting mountains into two. I knew I was a fool, I knew I was doing something wrong and stupid, but I didn't want to make life difficult for myself or my parents. Sometimes I managed to hide, I managed to avoid those two bastards… but I wasn't always so lucky. I was sorry to be better at escaping than reacting, I felt weak or even a coward. Sometimes I felt disgusted by my attitude, but I wasn't going to change my strategy and start fighting. Fighting meant increased risk, meant more bruises, meant increased odds of my parents getting involved.

I managed to avoid both Leopoldo and Matteo that day and spent some time in the library to browse through some books. I didn't read any of them, in fact I limited myself to looking at the covers and giving a quick read to the first pages. When the bell rang, I went back to class.

The lessons ended at two in the afternoon and I didn't go home immediately, rather I decided to stop, as I used to do, at the Medici Fortress, which was a few steps from the high school. The former military fortress, built in the 16th century by Emperor Charles V, was also frequented by Silvia, a classmate of mine whom I had known since kindergarten. She was quite a popular girl at school because of her beauty, of course; no guy could resist her long red hair, those piercing green eyes, and that athletic body she knew how to flaunt. She acted like she knew she was beautiful as a model, but it was easy to overlook the fact that she was also one of the smartest people in high school—she was sharper than Carlo, that was sure. I'd had a bit of a crush on her about two years ago, but I never had the energy, or the inclination, to express my feelings. Now I saw her as just a friend, someone I liked to talk to but didn't want to see too much.

Silvia didn't immediately notice my presence. She stood silently looking at her cell phone and I knew instantly from her look that she was annoyed. I didn't want to disturb her and thought about going back, but when I saw her head turn towards me I knew it was too late; I couldn't back down and ignore her, that would have been really rude of me. She didn't greet me right away, but she forced her lips into a smile; I did the same.

"How did the test go?" I asked stupidly.

"It wasn't difficult," she replied. "How did it go to you?"

"Good… I hope."

"Ahah! You always want to joke, Pietro! But I think you should try harder when you study, I bet you would be able to get good grades if you wanted to."

I don't know how, but I managed to get a spontaneous laugh out of her. She still had an annoyed look, but it seemed that the knot was gradually unraveling. I approached her and commented:

"You overestimate me. I'll never be on your level and I don't think I will ever understand math. But that's fate, isn't it? There are great people like you and there are total disasters like me." I said it with irony.

"No, I don't think so. I've always seen you as an intelligent person who doesn't try hard enough. You're definitely smarter than Carlo, believe me." She paused briefly. "I saw that Diego spoke to you this morning… er… May I know why?"

"He thanked me for helping him find a necklace. That's it."

"I see…" she murmured, narrowing her eyes.

"Are you fine?"

"Yeah, it's just that… um… Well, I thought he decided to badmouth me just to turn us against each other."

"What…?"

"Mm… Are you sure you want to know? It's pretty embarrassing, you see," she said, blushing.

"Sure, you can tell me everything, you know. I've never revealed any of your secrets."

"Well, four days ago I… er… confessed to Diego."

"For real?!"

She nodded.

"And how did it go?"

"What do you think? He turned me down, and he didn't even hesitate to do so. I thought he liked me, I swear. I would never have exposed myself like that if I had known. I feel stupid, really! Chiara told me that Diego is an asshole and that he often talks about people behind their backs. I don't know if she's right or not, but I don't want him to humiliate me."

"Okay…? I don't think he would ever do such a thing. Sure, I don't know him, but I don't think he's a bastard."

"But Chiara said that he did just that with her."

"I don't know what to tell you, seriously. He didn't tell me anything about you. And, you know, there's nothing to be ashamed of, Silvia. I bet he turned you down just because he's a bit introverted. It happens, you know?"

"But I've never been rejected!" she exclaimed with a pout.

"There is a first time for everything."

"No, no, I hope it was the first and also the last time. I can't accept making other bad figures!" She paused briefly. "And what about you, Pietro? What about that girl…"

"Beatrice? No, no good. In the end she proved to be the wrong girl."

"But you've been with her for almost four months—"

"Six, but who counts them? It has been six months of hell, if I have to be honest."

"Was it really that awful?"

"She was possessive, self-centered, cynical… Yes, she was a pretty awful person. I'm just glad she decided to leave me."

"I'm sorry…" she said. "Excuse the embarrassing question: have you already had… you know, right?"

"Sex?"

She nodded blushing a little.

"No."

"And is the story that Lorenzo lost his virginity to a twenty-year-old girl true?"

"I don't know, but I think so."

"Chiara too."

"For real? And with whom?"

"Twenty-five year old. I've seen the picture of him and he's just a handsome man."

"Twenty-five year old?!"

"What's the problem? We're eighteen, we're not children!"

"That's not the point, but—"

Her cell phone started ringing. "Oh, it's my mother. Sorry, I have to go. See you tomorrow, Pietro. Take care!"

So Silvia turned her back to me and left quickly. Lorenzo and Chiara had both lost their virginity. They were probably the only two, probably not. I wasn't really interested in these things actually, but I always felt a little pressure when I talked about sexuality. In many of my classmates, especially males, there was a need to lose their virginity before a certain age. For some it was twenty, for others it was twenty-four… hardly anyone wanted to remain a virgin after thirty. I didn't have such goals, it was important for me to have sex with the person I loved, not just anyone. That's why I was willing to wait, but I always felt that slight social pressure; a pressure that I didn't comprehend and that I considered, in fact, to be stupid.

It was about half past four when I got home. Sofia was lying on the sofa watching television while my mother was preparing her lesson for the next day; she was a woman who loved her work. She taught history and geography in middle school and was very good at it. I went to my room and started undressing to wear something more comfortable. Since I started watching wrestling I had developed a kind of envy for the bodies of those wrestlers. It was something that had been going on for a few weeks and that afternoon I stood in front of the mirror; I was in my underwear and looking at my body.

"Let's hope we don't get fat…" I murmured.

I wasn't muscular, but I would've liked to have been. Looking at my physique, which was only ten kilos from being fat, I imagined that I had the body of Brock Lesnar or Roman Reigns. It was nice to think I could get to that level, but in reality I didn't want to do the exercise needed to get there. A small part of me was aware that that 'desire' was just a whim. I wasn't the type who liked to show off his body and I was certainly not attracted to the idea of becoming some kind of 'super athlete'. In fact, when I saw my body, I didn't feel ugly… but I didn't feel beautiful either. I had an average body and it was its normality, its mediocrity, that made me envy the bodies of the wrestlers. There was nothing else. There was neither an excess of self-esteem nor an absence of it. But I was aware that with more muscles I would've been able to scare Leopoldo and Matteo. Those two were certainly not athletes and at the sight of a few muscles they would have been frightened like pigeons. For a moment the image of me knocking out Leopoldo with an F-5 flashed through my head.

'It would be nice if I could have the strength to do something like that!'

But it was just a fantasy, not a wish. I didn't want to fight. I preferred to run away, I preferred to avoid physical confrontation.

The door opened behind me. I dressed quickly and, turning around, I realized that it was my mother.

"Have you already eaten?" she asked smiling.

"No, no… I… er… No, I'll eat later."

"Do you want me to make you something?"

"No, no, no, I don't want to disturb you!"

"Don't worry. I'll make you something simple, okay?"

"Yeah… okay. Thank you."

She closed the door and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had avoided a bad figure, thankfully.

Mom made me spaghetti with a little tomato and I had lunch at a quarter past five; as always, her skill in the kitchen couldn't be questioned. After eating I decided, to repay my mother for her kindness, to wash the dish. As I left the kitchen, I heard the doorbell ring; it couldn't be my dad, he always came home late. I left the house and opened the gate: there was no one. I looked down and saw a package addressed to me. I didn't say anything to my mother and above all not to that talkative Sofia. I locked myself in my room and hastily unwrapped the package. The first thing that came to my hand was a letter:

Dear Pietro,

It's been a long time since we last met. In these two years I have never forgotten about you and I hope that I too still have a space in your heart. You have been like a son to me and you have also been my best disciple. That is why I would like to give you a priceless gift: a relic to summon a Heroic Spirit. Do you remember? Remember when we talked about it on hot July days? In those days you feared that you would never be ready to become a great magus. In those days, however, you were still immature and could not understand your potential. I believed in you and I still do, which is why I want you to take part in the Holy Grail War. I know that you are afraid that you are not up to par and I also know that you have a lot of doubts. I'm sorry that I disappeared from your life for two whole years, but I had a good reason to do so and when the time comes, I will reveal to you everything. I don't know if you'll ever be able to forgive me, but I'd really love to see you in action. After all, I see you as a son and I only want the best for you. I know that you are very talented and I know that you will have no problem winning this conflict. In the box there is an ancient artifact: it is a golden tassel. Behind this letter I have written you a detailed guide so that you will be able to summon the Heroic Spirit. I am waiting for you.

Father Egidius

February 2nd, Wednesday

The weather forecast on television said:

"Today, temperatures will be particularly low in Siena and in the area around it. Seven degrees in the morning, ten in the afternoon, and about one degree at night. No rain or snow is expected, however an unusual fog appeared in the early hours of the night. It is a much thicker fog than usual, so we advise you to be very careful. We remind drivers to always keep their lights on and pedestrians not to cross the road without first making sure there are no cars on the road. That's all for today, thank you."

I went to school carrying the tassel that had been sent to me by Father Egidius. I had forgotten my tutor, the man who had taught me magecraft. I thought he was dead and receiving his letter shocked me a lot. I didn't know whether to be happy or angry, I wasn't sure I wanted to meet him and I wasn't even sure I wanted to participate in this Holy Grail War. I had heard of the war and knew that it was a battle between magi and their Heroic Spirits, and that intrigued me in some way. I was not interested in the conflict itself, but in the Heroic Spirit—or Servant—which, as Father Egidius often described it, was only a weapon in the hands of the magus. But I thought it was really fascinating to be able to recall heroes of the past from a distant era, to talk to them and to learn about their stories and their adventures. I would've loved to be able to start a discussion with the emperors of Rome, or with the Italian aristocrats of the Middle Ages or even with the greatest intellectuals of the Enlightenment. For this reason I took that tassel with me and for this reason I memorized the summoning formula. There was a part of me that really wanted to summon that Heroic Spirit… but I didn't want to fight any war.

Being a magus meant nothing to me. I knew the theory, I knew how magecraft worked on a strictly theoretical level, and I even knew how to channel magical energy. But when it came to casting spells I was utterly clueless. I felt like a driver who knew how to drive the car and knew how to start it, but he couldn't get it to move. It was ridiculous and I felt incompetent, an imperfect magus.

For this reason, Father Egidius' words struck me deeply. He was a hero to me. I was only thirteen when he rescued me from a coma. It was he who brought me back to the light when a drunk driver who had collided with my father's car had plunged me into darkness. For this I owed him, my whole family owed him. Father Egidius' words struck me not only because he was the one who wrote them, but because they had come at a critical moment in my life. I was eighteen years old, I didn't have great ambitions for the future and I wasn't entirely sure which path to take in life. And it was precisely at that stage of my existence that letter had appeared. What did it mean? What was I supposed to do? I had no idea.

I entered the classroom and sat in my usual seat. There was turmoil in the room. A group of my classmates started talking about the weather:

"The fucking fog, seriously! You can't see anything even at a distance of one meter!" Carlo said to Marco.

"I swear to you that a car was about to hit me," the latter replied. "Hell! They told us to be careful when we cross the road, but I can't see shit! The fog is too thick, fucking hell!"

"You're right! You're absolutely right! This fog is not normal at all! I refused to walk and forced my father to drive me," Chiara exclaimed.

"Lucky you. My mother said: 'Stop being a little girl and walk'. Bitch," Simone said.

"Haha! Come on, it's your mother!" Carlo exclaimed laughing.

"Yes, and she's a bitch."

"I was about to get lost!" Silvia exclaimed, laughing. "Oh my God, this is the first time I'm happy to be in school! Better in here than out there."

"You're right," Anna intervened sympathetically. "But where does this fog come from? Because a friend of mine from Florence says that there's nothing of the kind there."

"My cousin, who lives in Arezzo, says there's just rain, but it hasn't been foggy for almost a week," added Carlo. "It must be something big, maybe it's related to global warming?"

"Guys, stay calm!" Lorenzo said annoyed. "You're freaking out for nothing! It will be something that will only last one day and then we'll all forget it! There is no need to get upset about something so stupid."

"Maybe he's right," Silvia commented. "At the worst they will close the school, right?"

"For the fog?" Carlo asked doubtfully. "I hope not."

At that moment the chemistry professor, Mr. Castelli, entered.

"Come on, go sit down! The fog is beautiful, but we have a lesson to do."

In that class of twenty, only Diego and I were the only two who were neither worried nor agitated; at least I wasn't that much. I knew there was something wrong with that fog, but I didn't want to ask myself too many questions about it.

During the break I managed to avoid Leopoldo and Matteo, they were probably busy harassing some other poor soul. I didn't know what to do and frankly I didn't really want to leave the class. Then I took out a book I had picked up from my mother's bookshelf. I stayed in class, alone, and sat in front of the window to read Plutarch. Mom always said to me: 'A book read today is greater knowledge for tomorrow'. True words full of wisdom, that was for sure, but I wasn't reading for pleasure but to distract myself. I didn't want to think about the Heroic Spirit, Father Egidius and the Holy Grail War. However, the heart was anxious and I could not reassure it. I tried to stay calm, concentrate on the words, but I couldn't. I closed the book for a few minutes and took a deep breath.

'If I canìt stop these feelings, then I have to bear them,' I thought.

I started reading again. The book I was leafing through had already been used by mom: it was full of underlining, drawings and even notes. It was one of those books that told the story of the reader. The window was slightly open and outside there was more silence than usual.

Then I heard a loud metallic noise.

I turned immediately, but I couldn't see anything. I heard the same noise a little further on and it sounded like an old engine. I opened the window and craned my head to understand what was happening, but the dense fabric of the fog made me almost blind. Then I noticed a large figure moving towards the school. They looked like a very short, stocky person, and they had something in their hand. It took me a while to understand that those noises were produced by that figure; my heart leapt and I immediately closed the window.

"No, impossible…" I murmured, "what's that…? I'm imagining it…"

I opened the window again. The figure was gone.

"Yes… It was just my imagination."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

With the end of the lessons I immediately went home. Walking through that fog wasn't easy at all, but luckily my muscle memory kept me from getting lost. I walked slowly, calmly, towards home, with the constant doubt of being followed by something. When I heard that clank again, I immediately turned around.

There was nothing behind me.

Yet I was sure, no, quite confident there was something behind me. My heart began to pound quickly and my pace quickened a little. After a few minutes, I heard those noises again. I began to think they were only in my head:

'There's no one, there's no one behind you. There is probably someone who is working and you think they are close to you, but in reality they are very far away. It can happen… that's how sound works… you don't know… There are some buildings that have particular shapes and that create particular sound illusions.'

I kept walking, walking, walking, but the noise never stopped following me.

'You're imagining it… it's only in your head… no one is following you…'

The noise grew louder and closer.

"Damn!" I exclaimed, turning around.

There was no one. I heard that noise behind me and turned around again. Still nothing. My forehead was dripping with sweat, my hands were wet and my legs were ready to run. I stood still looking around: right, left, back, forward, left, right, forward, back, right, right again…

There was nothing. Nobody.

It was then that I read 'Via Isonzo'.

"Via… Isonzo…?"

I had no idea how I got there. I was so focused on my imaginary pursuer that I had stopped paying attention to the road. I wasn't worried, just a little alarmed, but I knew how to get back. The noise seemed to have stopped and I immediately rearranged my thoughts. I thought about which way to go and started moving.

The noise reappeared… and this time it wasn't alone. I was at the entrance to Via Isonzo and, both on my right and on my left, there were four identical noises. Out of the fog, these squat, green robots about five feet tall emerged. They were armed with some kind of swords and were approaching quickly. It was obvious that they wanted to kill me and then the agitation became fear in an instant and I ran like crazy along Via Isonzo. I had no idea where I was going, but I didn't care, I just wanted to run. I ran, ran as far as possible and my road was cut by a sudden dead end.

"No! Please no! Somebody help me! They want to kill me, please!"

Those machines were approaching me and I had no idea what to do.

"The tassel…?" I threw my backpack to the ground and kicked it towards those things. "Do you want it? Take it! I don't want it! It's all yours! I'm not part of this conflict!"

Those automatons didn't stop and kept coming closer to me. Realizing that I had no other way out, I decided to do something crazy: I ran towards those things, immediately grabbed my backpack and jumped to avoid being hit. I crawled on the asphalt and hit my back against the wheel of a parked car. Fear erased the pain and I got up to start running again. I knew that from Via Isonzo I could reach Via del Colle, which overlooked a wild park. It was a fairly large area and I could have dealt with those things there. They were robots and maybe they couldn't move in a terrain filled with obstacles like the one I was taking them to. My plan was to block them in that place and run away as far as possible. I reached my objective and walked away to see the consequences of my plan. When I saw those automatons moving easily inside the wild park, I knew I was in trouble. There was no way to block them and therefore there was no way to escape from them. I kept running, but I didn't go back to the city because I knew that if I did I would endanger other people and I didn't want to be involved in a tragedy… but above all I didn't want to bring them to my house. I knew I had only one choice and that was the one that scared me the most. I knew my only choice, my only hope of getting out of this situation alive, was to ask the Heroic Spirit for help.

The only problem was the summoning. I had brought with me the letter from Father Egidius, but I needed a place to prepare everything. I detached a branch from a tree and looked for an area where there was little grass. I quickly looked at the symbol drawn on the paper and, after making sure I didn't have those damned robots behind me, I began to replicate it on earth… Once it was done, I left the tassel in the center of it.

I felt those robots approaching, it was clear that they were looking for me. I had to hurry and so I started reciting the magic formula:

"O salutary Victim, who opens the sky, the wars of the enemy cling to us: give us strength, help us. May the glory be eternal to the One and Triune Lord: may he bestow on us life without end at home, may he bestow upon us the weapon outside the homeland to win every conflict!"

The circle lit up. A powerful energy was released from that symbol, I could feel a heat like that of a fire on my skin. From the light emerged a female figure with long light brown hair, she had two yellow eyes that resembled those of a predator, and she had fox ears and a fox tail. The girl had a dress that was very reminiscent of that of a Japanese high school girl, but there was a touch that was very reminiscent of the traditional clothes of ancient Japan: the black hat, that kind of red jacket and even the miniskirt seemed not very modern. The girl smiled at me and said in an enthusiastic voice:

"I have finally been summoned! I mean, I couldn't wait to fight a Holy Grail War! So, are you my Master? Because if you are, it means we'll have a lot of fun together!"

She had a strange way of expressing herself. She wasn't rude or anything like that, but there was something that made her look like an adult who was desperately trying to emulate a teenager. I didn't know whether to take her seriously or not, however, seeing the sheathed sword reassured me a little.

"This? Oh yes! This is my trusty sword, you understand, yeah? Maybe I should reveal its name… or maybe not… we'll see, 'kay? Yes, yes! Let's see how you will behave with me, Master! Based on that I'll decide whether to reveal my True Identity to you or not, because I can't risk, you understand? Of course you understand, I mean, it would be strange if you couldn't understand, yeah?"

"Sure, sure… But, you see, I have a little problem: I'm about to die."

"Mm? For real? Like super-real?" she asked confused and inspecting me with her eyes. "It doesn't seem like it, you know? Well, maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think so, I mean, if I was wrong it would be a biiiig problem, you know?"

I sighed and pointed to those robots who had managed to find me.

"Are they bothering you, Master?"

I nodded.

"Great! Then let me handle this, 'kay?"

"A-Are you sure you can? Because I don't think you're—"

The girl summoned two swords, one golden and one silver, with both of them striking two robots at an impressive speed. I hadn't even been able to see her take action. That Heroic Spirit, with a proud laugh, turned to me and raised her thumb. One of those robots tried to hit her from behind, but she dodged the attack quickly and cut the enemy in half with the sword she was holding in her right hand. In the end she threw the golden sword like a bullet and disintegrated the last enemy. Within twelve seconds, this girl had got rid of all her enemies. I was shocked, I had never seen anyone fight like that. The envy I had for the wrestlers dissipated completely and the Heroic Spirit became my new idol in an instant.

"W-Who are you…?" I asked surprised.

"My name is Saber and I am your Servant. So, are you ready to start this war?"