Welcome back to another edition; words can't describe how excited I am to finally reach this point of the narrative.
Nearly a year ago, we started Grail Wars on an absent-minded thought, and over that time, quite a few people tuned in for the nonsense I wrote, far more than I could ever imagine. For another broken milestone, the fic now has 600 followers, to which I'm humbled and grateful for all of you.
Within this part of the story, of course, there will be significant shifts, a lot of which I will need to work out on my own accord, such as a Sakura without the contamination of Zouken's meddling. If you combine this with the lacking detail of imaginary numbers and other aspects such as training in and learning magecraft, there's going to be a lot of guesswork in this, especially when combining elements of Metal Gear into this franchise.
Just letting it go right away, I will take creative liberties with factors such as this; I'm not going to run this fic dry for the sake of complete accuracy; as you all know, I prefer storytelling, and for the most part, a lot you do as well. You know Fate, as do I, but where's the interest in focusing on specifics? Not much for me, lol.
So, in a nutshell, expect a longer format than before, with some chapters dedicated entirely toward character development rather than just fights; Raiden is no longer the singular focus, and I'm excited to show off his protege and what she can do, and how his actions allow for different opportunities and pathways in her personality. In general, I'm planning for this section to be even longer than the Zero arc; I'll take my time and give it more meaning.
This part of the story is why I wanted to reach Blade Works so desperately; Raiden and Sakura have had many years to develop their bond and learn from one another, some of which I may go back to in flashbacks, or not, we'll see. In essence, we have a character with the potential for utter greatness, often held back or even nonexistent in Fate despite the heights she could reach, especially given the darker element of how her abilities work, combine that with a mentor who thrives in chaos, well, we're going to have a lot of fun with this, so I'll take my time and show off the world a bit if you'll indulge me, in my own method.
It feels a bit surreal, getting to the section I've been excited for all this time, yet here we are, the beginning of the blade works saga. Through trial and tribulation, Raiden has utterly warped the story into something entirely new, following his ideals to guide him through the chaos of the magical world as he always did.
Our favorite cyborg has stood firm against legendary figures across human history, never wavering despite the odds remaining against him for nearly the entire narrative, refusing to give in to the inevitable. He was a child like any other, born in the jungles of Liberia to an unimportant family, only to lose it all to factors utterly outside of his small world. Through the actions of a few, his destiny changed for the worse, becoming a child of war, never able to rest, eternally lingering on those distant gunshots always out of reach, and here he stands, on the precipice of yet another battle to claim for his own ambitions.
He once stood for the goals of others, a slave to their ideology, and yet through these currents, the samurai found his footing in a confusing reality of intrigue, only to find new layers in a society unseen by most of mankind. On his journey, the warrior found new allies and unique foes, with the same stakes as always in his world of conflict alongside a host of unforeseen consequences brought about by his presence, but he marches on as he always has.
It's time to start the journey once more; welcome to the blade works arc; let's see where it takes us.
...
[Johnny has a gun pointed at Snake]
"You haven't even taken the safety off, rookie!" -Solid Snake.
"Careful, I'm no rookie. I'm a ten-year vet." -Johnny.
[Johnny checks the safety, and Snake flips him over, disarming him in the process]
"How the hell did you ever survive ten years?" -Solid Snake.
...
Where once, the layers of noise and relentless activity of modern life stood firm, echoing across the concrete, urban landscape into the senses of all who dared enter its proverbial confines remained utterly silent, replaced by the all too familiar stillness of the eerie night. The moonlight gently shimmered overhead as its light intermingled with the artificial glow of street lamps strewn about the metropolis, their harsh yellow glare reflecting a fear and deep anxiety of the unknown across the civilized world.
The outlying passerby trailed through the illuminated pathways strewn about the city, winding through their maze-like confines with an unease despite their familiarity, having made the journey many times before. Yet, a static remained present in the air, as though something could happen within moments, only for nothing to emerge. The resident would shake their head, mulling over the anxiety before yet another tingle racked the back of their neck before shuffling onward just a bit faster.
A pair of tired eyes stared out from a window, its clean pane framing separating them from the elements outside; where there should be the biting cold of the sunless sky, there was a gentle heat surrounding their cushioned form. A pair of purple orbs watched through the fogged glass, observing a long winding road with little to no activity to its name.
Their stare shifted, viewing a reflection all too familiar along the clean surface, where once a pair of dull, listless orbs gazed out at the world, wondering when the next trauma would occur, now remained shaken, yet firm, holding true to reality amidst a mature demeanor. The layers of childhood roundness had fallen to the wayside with age, replaced by a sharpness only acquired through extensive work, both physical and mental, where tonal definition symbolized a willingness for hardship. And yet, a softness persisted despite this outward exterior, represented in a carefully wrapped bow amidst a sea of purple locks, culminating in an identity called the self.
She idly stared at her own countenance, seeing a mixture of uncertainty and angst reflecting in her being, in posture, demeanor, and even expression, those underlying currents always finding a way to the surface regardless of context. It came to her in an instant, why was she standing here? Her eyes widened at the sudden intrusive thought, brought about by some unknown mental mechanism, and yet, it lingered; there was so much she needed to get done in so little time, and yet here she was, just looking at herself, wondering how it all got to this point.
Years had gone by like nothing, where at one time, she struggled to do much of anything, never finding a confident flow or stride to call her own, fumbling through her meaningless days without a reason to live, if she could even call that brief period any sort of life...Regardless, things slowly got better due to events utterly outside of her control, and the girl would always be grateful for that. One day, like any other, she obeyed her commands without question and the next? The men were dead, the orders going silent, and she was left confused, not knowing what to do nor how to function on her own.
To most, it would be a blessing, and it was; she couldn't deny that a day didn't go by that she wasn't grateful, staring at the cause of her change with a fondness the pupil couldn't hope to describe in words. An image of an unruly set of blonde, nearly white hair flickered into her mind, something the young woman saw on a daily basis and yet brought a feeling of joy regardless. Through him, she learned how to view the world for herself, to truly experience things, to take them with a firm grasp and make something of it; losing an oppressor, the Matou felt like she finally gained a family, and yet...a static rang through her being, almost an omen of terrible things to come.
Life had been good, really good, to a point where the magus didn't want to change a thing; it all just made sense; living in a small bubble, she had a comfort she clung to, a home, even a friend or two to call her own, it was enough for her but...a tiny frown grew along her pearl-like skin as she once again reminded herself of reality, a war was brewing, and she had chosen to take part in it, training for years to prepare for the inevitable, and tonight...everything culminated in her decisions, the magus would define herself here and now, in just a few short...what time was it again?
With an audible sigh, a pair of thin, pale hands reached rose into the air, balled into gentle fists as they rubbed away the exhaustion to no avail before drifting back into a pulled stretch. A slow breath escaped their owner as they slowly glanced toward a nearby clock, as it relentlessly ticked as the seconds went by, 11:45 pm, almost time to begin.
Their shoulders slowly raised, pausing mid-motion as an audible pop echoed across the bright room, followed by a slight wince of discomfort, the smooth fabric of their pink blouse doing little to dissuade the pain of torn muscle. The grimace soon fell away into yet another yawn, evident that the figure had long since been used to that feeling.
As they adjusted to the calm exhaustion of late-night life, the figure turned, examining their surroundings in an effort to remain sentient despite the growing weariness behind each blink of their purple eyes. The same thing as always, an expansive kitchen with all the commodities one could imagine, with her focus landing on a distant wooden table, its oak material imported from some far-off country or other from a year she could only guess.
The magus's gaze soon landed on a steaming mug resting along its surface, with white wisps trailing to the ceiling above. She idly glanced around the container, clicking her tongue in silent disapproval at the various oddities and gadgets strewn about the surface, more a collection of junk thrown onto it while looking for something else. The heiress lightly smiled, shaking her head at the sight before taking a slow stride across the hardwood floor, her brown boots gently clicking along with each step before coming to a stop, her thoughts wandering, idly questioning what this place would look like without her taking care of things, not that she minded...well she did, but living with someone who embodied the idea of never sitting still got her used to this sort of thing a long time ago. A hum of embarrassed acknowledgment escaped the student as her stare landed on a document labeled "summoning ritual" in an archaic style of handwriting; okay, maybe half of that stuff was hers...but she wouldn't admit it, being far too stubborn for such a feat.
The Matou rolled her eyes, reaching out to grasp the handle of her white mug, feeling its warmth reverberate across her exposed skin, bringing back her smile as she gazed into the dark confines below, taking a forced breath as though it would shield her tastebuds from the inevitable onslaught. With a jolt of energy, she lurched back, downing the drink in one go, her face scrunched up as a bitterness crashed into her senses before disappearing into nothingness.
The magus clenched her jaw as she shook the feeling away, never able to understand how her guardian did that every single day or even why he did it; there was no possible way he enjoyed drinking the liquid dirt he called coffee. Regardless, the apprentice gently placed her mug onto the table once more, the tiny clang reverberating only for her exhausted senses to register, and even as the bitter taste subsided, she clung to the sensation, knowing she might as well adjust before going down to...that...place again.
With a sudden somberness, she glanced down toward the floor before taking a calming breath, knowing there wasn't time for this, not with the sort of crunch a conflict like this brought. The Matou had changed a lot over the years, getting a better handle on herself, but even now, she struggled with a lot of what happened.
Her woes escaped as an unspoken grumble before she took off through the house once more, her steps going unheard by all but herself, passing through the winding hallways with ornate decorations she never paid a thought to, having grown used to them a long time ago. Despite their owners having died years ago, most of the objects stood where they were, almost a reminder of what her life used to be during those early years. To most, the things represented a higher cast of society, a mixture of statues and portraits of people, relics of the past, of important people associated with the name "Matou," not that it meant anything to her, those thoughts vanished alongside her supposed grandfather... good riddance.
The protege's features steeled themselves as she traveled onward, an artificial breeze bringing her purple locks to a flowing drift as she picked up speed, utterly aware of how little time she had to mess around. She skimmed through the main entrance, passing by the elaborate staircase going to the second floor of the estate, where the safety and comfort of her room rest a mere minute away, and yet she marched on, turning a nearly unnoticeable corner near the stairs passing through a darkened section of the house, instinctively flicking light switches on as she went.
Dust lined both the carpeted floor and the dwindling decorations the further she traveled into this unused section, almost entirely forgotten over the years, with no one seeing much reason to go here anymore, the place holding nearly a taboo status, where even her adoptive brother seemed to avoid its chilling confines. Years ago, the young woman would have hesitated, possibly even asking if her caretaker could go with her, but some part of her wouldn't allow that. It was a distant, piercing sensation, as though the girl had something to prove, whether to herself or some unknown party, she couldn't say, only guided forward by the pounding of her heart and the growing tug at the back of her throat as angst took hold.
A forced huff escaped the girl as she continued onward, the soft carpeting soon giving way to hardened stone, audibly clicking with each step as her determination grew by the moment. A distant sight came into view, illuminated by a harsh set of unmaintained bulbs, suspended in the air over a veritable chasm leading down into some unknown chamber, some utterly dim, with the rest remaining firm or flickering between life and death, just as she did all those years ago..."swimming" in that...filth.
A march turned into a pattering of steps, growing more separate as momentum ground to a halt, with a pair of shoes hovering just above the cliff of an old set of stone stairs, leading ever downward. A shimmer of recognition flickered into the heiress's orbs as they stared down into that place, seeing little more than a decrepit basement, utterly unused for years, its true intentions unnoticeable to most, and yet to her, it retained a sense of utter terror in the back of her head, clouding her dreams in a writhing mass of horror.
A memory flashed before her eyes, bringing visions of tiny organisms, hundreds, thousands, if not millions, clambering over one another in a veritable sea of biomass, just...waiting, searching, and even hunting for their next target. Years may have passed, but she remembered getting dragged down those steps, her soft skin tearing against hardened rock before a sudden shove, and the biting chill of billowing air and then...-
With a sudden gasp, the magus lurched, slamming a hand over her mouth as she fell toward the worn-out wall beside her, leaning on its surface for support as cries echoed out through her head...her own screams. It went on for what felt like a lifetime, the bites, the digging, the tearing of her own skin as unknown creatures burrowed inside, and all she could do was beg for mercy, but nothing came, just the occasional reminder, a distant voice calling out in an all too mocking tone that this was what she deserved, this was all life had for her.
The pain never subsided for even a moment, and for a long time, she tried to cling to those memories, the fading images of her loving family, but as the days went by, even after they let her out, only to toss her into the pit once more a mere day later, those recollections took a new meaning. Questions arose the longer she endured that nightmare...Did she do something wrong? Why did this happen to her?... Did her family hate her?
As a trickle of sweat dropped to the hardened stairwell, traveling down with gravity's pull, the word stuck out in the girl's head, even mouthing it, as though it were foreign, yet all too familiar, 'hate.' It was a deep feeling, burrowed inside of her being, but time, and again, it resurfaced, triggered by the same things as always, but recently? It only got worse, and the Matou knew precisely why.
They never came back...she remembered those days so well, feeling genuinely happy, thinking it was all over, the nightmare had finally ended, and she could go home, and bit by bit, that narrative fell apart like nothing.
Her father had died during the war, killed by a Servant or another Master; she couldn't say for sure, but she wasn't bothered or even depressed at the news, it just happened, and the Matou didn't care, not even wanting to attend his funeral...a pang of guilt shot up, only to be suppressed by a reassuring voice, reminding her that 'you owe him nothing.'
The girl shook her head, a strand of purple hair flowing with the motion as she stared down at her shoes, not wanting to even move an inch, despite knowing she had minutes at most to get ready; she stood there, entrenched within her own mindless thoughts.
She still dreamed of her mother and sister, and she could still recall waiting every day for that car ride, a phone call...something...anything, and then the news came, they weren't coming. Her tiny world shattered, and the magus was left confused and distraught. Even though Jack said it in the best way he could, it didn't help; she was just a kid, none of it made sense, and maybe over time... she would just...stare whenever she saw her former sister at school, hoping for the day they could be together again, but it didn't happen that way.
With a burst of anger, she balled a fist, her arm shaking from a mixture of nausea and weakness, yet finding strength before gently slamming onto the rocky wall. They were strangers, with one the popular Tohsaka, the other a Matou, with little more than sparse words and occasional nods of recognition...that's what she was, an unknown, cast aside for the favorite, at least, that's how it felt.
A trickle of blood gently began to erupt from a cut along her skin, only to soon erupt in a fog of steam, vanishing as unseen machines put the damaged tissue back into place. Things had changed; she had gotten older, and with a new way of seeing the world, her views shifted as well, never remaining static.
Every time they met, an old resentment bubbled to the surface, a mixture of loss, fear, and a wave of deep anger, culminating in a confused mess she couldn't quite describe, all stemming from the father who never wanted her and the mother and sibling who didn't dare defy him. But with those feelings, something new emerged, a presence, as though the magus was on the verge of letting something out, tapping into some unknown potential; the protege had an inkling of a thought as to what it was, and yet, her inadequate training held her back.
With gritted teeth, her clenched fist began to shake as prana coursed through her circuits, tapping into her pent-up aggressions, no longer held back by a long-since revoked contamination, burned away with the last vestiges of Zouken Matou's wretched life. A growl escaped her at the mere thought of his name, her anger forcing a purple glow to erupt from her waiting palm, clenching and opening in a battle between instinct and willpower, no longer tainted by an attempted change to her affinity.
For a brief moment, through wisps of purple energy, her orbs briefly recognized a familiar shimmering void along the surface of the wall, a near gateway to a realm beyond comprehension appearing for what seemed like an eternity; despite its small size, the entranceway remained stable, she knew what this was, having found an archive of knowledge in the Matou study, her original affinity, albeit it felt like she could hardly do a thing with it...maybe someday the magus would find a drive to go furth-
In an instant, her purple eyes shot to awareness, and with a wave of a hand, her energy cut off, the vortex dispersing soon after, gone as quickly as it arrived. The heiress remained there a moment, catching her breath as years of training took hold, forcing the sensations away as a calmness overcame her person once again. It wasn't the place for something like that...not while there was work to do.
The protege took a moment to collect herself, idly swiping away the folds on her clothes as she brushed aside any leftovers from her brief lapse in judgment before gazing down the old cobblestone stairway. Before her lay an inevitable conflict, one that seemingly called to her for one reason or another, the faint flower-like petals along the back of her right hand proving as such, but still-
She took one step, then another, growing farther from the safe confines of her home and into a realm of uncertainty and confusion, and as the heiress descended, the cavern-like basement opened up, with her focus landing on the sole presence within the chamber. An intricate system of rings interwoven with both text and symbols, unlike anything an average person could fathom, with each aspect seemingly caught in the orbit of a hexagram yet more intricate carvings strewn about the floor, having been placed there quite some time ago.
The air felt cold as the stairs gave way to solid ground, as though there were static in the air, and yet the pupil persisted, slowly walking toward the circle. It all started at just this place; with a simple ritual, a legendary figure, a heroic spirit from some part of human history would appear, and yet, it always seemed like a gamble to the young Matou...one she arguably won despite not being involved in the last conflict.
A gentle hum of intrigue overcame the girl as she observed the old carving; this was the same place her uncle had done the ritual ten years ago, using a catalyst brought about from some unknown location. She squinted, faintly remembering her adoptive grandfather mentioned Cuba, but that was about it; but the end result?
The magus did remember feeling her hair rise into the air as electricity crackled along the entire estate, and the next thing she knew, someone was there, standing tall against the shorter men, his pale foreign features present for all to see as his piercing blue eyes glowed a defiant red, she didn't think anything of him, just a Berserker...wearing a suit and...very much sentient...and angry...a sigh escaped her, yeah, that's Jack.
The Matou didn't feel the need to mull over how it was living with a former Servant from the future; you would think that sounds interesting, but getting anything more than a blurb about "cyborgs" and "an angry Senator" felt impossible. Calling Jack stubborn was an understatement, but still...a new smile crossed her features even thinking about the man who raised her, it worked out for them in the end, and the young woman wouldn't trade him for the world, and... hopefully, it would work out the same this time.
She stood there, slowly withdrawing a pink cellphone covered in an array of self-colored blossoms, glancing at the time, just a few more minutes. The soon-to-be Master collected herself as a small pool of excitement began to build; despite the circumstances, she would call someone or something forward to help her... through years of training, a little girl had grown into a more confident version of hersel-...oh God, how would she introduce herself?
*BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP
With a sigh of frustration, the apprentice instinctively clicked the alarm off on her phone without so much as a glance, pushing the matter aside and deciding to do what she did worst, wing it.
The Matou took a step forward, carefully dancing between the intricate lines, having double-checked them over and over for the slightest of errors for weeks. However, the angst remained ever-present, yet it did not restrain her from doing what was needed.
A slow pace dwindled into a stop, with her boots planted just along the edge of the innermost circle, the same place her uncle once stood, with finding a steel to their nerves, moving beyond their worldly concerns and pushing onward for the sake of another, to do what they considered right. She dug through a pocket, her fingers clasping around a smooth piece of cloth, gently wrapped with a delicacy only awarded to a prized possession.
Her palm opened as a free hand slowly unraveled the veil of material, revealing a shimmering piece of reflective material, simply appearing as a chunk of some greater object, a mirror from an old temple, torn asunder at some point in time, cast aside to be forgotten, and the same almost repeated within the Matou estate, with her finding the piece by happenstance, digging for some documents on her illusive element, yet finding something else entirely.
It sat atop a piece of old parchment, buried in the dead patriarch's desk, merely recording an ancient date of supposed creation and the land on which it was found, Eritrea...the mage stared at her reflection, feeling the sanded-out points, now little more than rounded grooves, feeling a strange connection to it despite not knowing what it would bring.
Call it stupid, but someone from that continent had brought her more than just good luck before, and another Catalyst might do the same, but it felt like something else... like it was calling out to her, driving her to take it for the ritual without so much as a moment of doubt, and the apprentice would cling to that hope. And so it was; she smiled down at the object, placing it at the center of her ritual before rising once more, ready for what was to come.
As her mind began to focus, the young girl could only stretch out a palm, her eyes shut to the world as a gentle purple glow began to spread from where she stood, slowly spreading outwards as her voice echoed out, "Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill...Repeat every five times-"
For the briefest of moments, those underlying currents, the anger, the sadness, the guiding principles that allowed the young magus to live drew new meaning with each word, as though they were calling out to someone specific, despite the repetitive nature, repeated by nearly all who participated in such a war, and yet to her, it felt unique.
The glow began to expand, its luminous form shining across the room from a gentle ray into an utter cascade of light, driving the darkness from this place of evil. "Simply shatter once filled. I announce. Your self is under me; my fate is in your sword."
The phrasing never sat well with the magus; the very idea of forcing someone to act against their will felt wrong, and yet a necessity all the same, and yet, some deep part of her truly hoped to find someone agreeable, a kindred spirit, if it were even possible. "In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, then answer."
Trickles of loose dirt and rock began to shake as the heiress pressed onward, her gentle voice reflecting a sense of solemn understanding, knowing fully well the stakes of agreeing to this, knowing just how much destruction awaited her in the coming days. "Here is my oath... I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead; I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead-"
The shaking grew worse, with chunks of debris and dust billowing across the room, nearly bringing the girl to a fall, only for her boots to slam into the earth, digging in as her command seals began to vibrantly glow a deep red as a presence began to emerge, heeding her words.
Waves of trauma intermingled with the belief in a better life forced her to speak through gritted teeth as her brow furrowed, her face scrunching into a raw exemplar of grit, refusing to sit by any longer, her prana surging to the surface, awaiting its next use. "You, seven clads in heaven in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, oh keeper of the balance!"
*RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
With a gasp, the Matou's eyes shot open as the rumbling grew more intense, blasting waves of debris into her line of sight before coming to an abrupt halt as a blast of light shot out across the empty chamber, briefly overwhelming her form as her calls received an answer.
...
...
*Click...Click...Rattle...Rattle...
As her purple orbs remained firmly shut, the heiress could only hear the clinking of gentle yet rhythmic heels along the hardened stone floor as a chain flowed with each step taken, not growing closer nor escaping into the distance, remaining utterly within range of her person.
The student slowly raised her hands, no longer shielding her from a veritable dust storm, rubbing the blurriness from her vision as she spoke into the uncertain void ahead, "h-hello?"
The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise as an instinctive tingle ran through the young woman's spine, as though she were being assessed; it felt...predatory, and yet-
A hum broke out, its gentle tone not matching the threatening aura escaping from the unseen entity, and yet, it remained in a sort of neutral interest, not too keen nor bored, a kind of middle ground reflecting a weariness of age or indifference, she couldn't say for certain, but-
"Even without your sight, you instinctively take a defensive stance; how curious."
As a melodic voice pierced into her senses, the magus forced herself to look through blurred lenses, not seeing a thing, merely a cloud of fog with a trailing shadow walking within its confines; she glanced down for a moment, only realizing then that all this time, she had lowered herself, her form at the ready to strike out at a moments notice. The heiress's mouth remained agape for a moment before soon collecting her bearings, not wanting to leave a bad impression, "how did you-"
A soft chuckle broke out as though the figure felt amused at her perplexion for some reason or other, soon followed by a gentle step forward, the shadow growing more apparent yet nearly invisible through the slowly dissipating cloud. The voice, a woman's, delicate yet firm, broke out once more, "I've dealt with the realm of man for quite some time, with many fighting for obscure reasons, manipulated by some fools gambit of legend or other...and despite their similarities, over time, I became quite good at finding the differences."
The shadow drew closer, walking in a sort of rhythmic motion that nearly entranced the young girl, observing almost invisible features gradually became more apparent as the woman drew closer, speaking as she went, "In you, I sense a caution...a fear of what once happened coming forth anew, it reverberates in your tone and the very way in which you hold yourself... as if you have something to prove... if I may ask...what would you have me do?"
A gulp forced its way down the protege's throat as a dry spell overcame her being, feeling as though she was on some kind of trial, proving herself to a figure of some unknown standing; the pressure felt unreal, but still...She slowly raised a hand, placing it over her heart, feeling its rapid thuds, never relenting for even a moment, and yet her mind remained serene, forced into submission through willpower alone, with a fire to live pushing new ideals forward.
The Matou took a hesitant step forward, bringing the approaching figure to a surprised halt as though the unexpected had occurred. The magus stood there, her fist lightly clenching and releasing over and over again; what would she do as a Master?... She paused, inwardly chastising herself, having thought of that answer a long time ago, deciding for herself to join this war on an instinctive level.
Her purple orbs glanced toward the glowing command seals along the back of her right hand, its vibrant red color contrasting with the delicate pale skin it rested upon; it still felt strange to think about all this time later. She could have walked away...with Zouken dead, nothing bound the young woman to the world of magic anymore, and honestly? She hated it...all of it, the factions, the archaic rules that tore her family and so many others apart, and the almost blind disgust for the rest of humanity, seeing them as unimportant primitives going about in a sea of obliviousness... but deep down she knew, HE wouldn't stop.
Jack was stubborn, and even if the odds were entirely against him, almost guaranteeing death, the former Servant wouldn't back down. He was probably the most determined person the magus had ever seen; it both inspired and drove a sense of fear into her, wondering when the day would come when he stopped coming home... could she even survive without him? The mere thought of losing another family brought out the worst in the girl, and yet, she knew it wasn't just his life or hers on the line but the entire city, if not the world...
The apprentice knew just what the stakes were in this war, having heard them so many times since the day those seals appeared on her hand, but it had to be this way; she couldn't just let Jack go off on his own, not when she could act. A sigh escaped her as the student stared at the Servant's shadow, still awaiting an answer, idly wishing she had asked her guardian to stick around for the ritual...she still wasn't good with her words, but she had to try.
The magus lowered her head, staring toward the floor as her inner anger boiled to the surface, speaking through gritted teeth, "When I was young, I felt helpless, living in a house filled with nothing but hate...and the one man who cared...died trying to save me-" an image filled her mind, depicting a black haired man with a gentle smile on his face, slowly morphing into a pained, scarred visage, yet still only viewing her with a familial love despite his own pain. Her stare remained fixated on the ground as she continued, "what I want is to protect the family I have left...but it's more than that."
As feelings of abandonment intermingled with a growing anger, her gaze slowly rose, observing her potential ally's growing detail in a sense of utter certainty, "You're right that I have something to prove...to someone...someone that I lost because of this war, and the rules of our world-" Even as tears built up, the heiress forced herself to speak as words ran low, her fists gripped tight, shaking with uncertain emotions, "what I really want is to show my sister that we can be a family again... and if I have to slap it into her dense skull, then I'll beat her at her own game, and win this war."
Silence dominated the chamber as the girl's statement settled into place, with the figure remaining utterly still as though they needed a moment to take it all in, and yet, a voice rang out, its tone no longer distant, coming closer both in empathy and in proximity as the footsteps drew closer, "I know the pain of wishing to protect those you love... and so-"
The fog dissipated with a sudden step forward as a black boot intermingled with magenta coloring tapped onto the floor, an unseen force blasting away the debris, revealing a beautiful yet strikingly tall woman with long, winding purple hairs stretching almost toward the ground itself. She wore a form-fitting black dress, leaving little to the imagination, with separate arm and leg warmers, their dark coloring contrasting with her immaculately tan skin, and yet...the magus could only focus on the strange guarder clasped around the woman's eyes before her stare fell to a gentle smile along her face, as she spoke "then I suppose it's quite alright to say I'm well used to taking orders, Master, for I am your Rider."
...
Hours later
A figure stirred in their sleep, grumbling and groaning a mixture of both words and feelings into a strange concoction only known to those with far too little sleep. Their unseen eyes shifted beneath their lids as though they were seeing some peculiar vision or other within the purview of their jumbled thoughts, each forming a nonsensical reality, only making sense at the moment before vanishing from memory entirely soon after waking, leaving one to wonder if it even happened at all.
The silken covers creased and folded as a thin arm lightly threw the material asunder, exposing her long brown locks to the world as she instinctively curled into a ball, driving away the sudden biting cold of the morning chills. Within her mind, the chaos of unwinding dreams came to an explosive apex; she stood in an unfamiliar room, given on a whim by her maternal grandparents, the Zenjou, a once profound name, now relegated to the normalcy of the non-magical world, their aptitude long since having stopped appearing, with her mother not having an inkling of prowess...and without a study or even a serious undertone, her surroundings felt oh so foreign.
Where furniture and ornamentation should have loomed overhead, with old oaken surfaces polished to perfection and chairs coated in the finest padding available, instead stood various nicknacks...coloring books, board games, even a tapestry of color resting along the walls, giving it a sense of being more of a playhouse than a home...it felt wrong. She had been raised a magus, trained in her father's ways, knowing exactly what she needed to do once she came of age, but this? The Tohsaka feigned a gag as she picked up a stuffed pink bear before discarding it to the wayside...she soon checked around her for observers, seeing none before lunging out, catching the plush toy mid-fall, pulling it close to her chest, finding it kind of cute.
The magus sighed, taking short yet confident steps as she crossed a carpeted floor with an elegance unexpected for a girl her age, but it was expected, and she needed to put off a confident image, even if no one was watching, it's just how she was, but underneath...the opulent daughter glanced toward a nearby window, partially concealed a veil of cloth parted halfway down the surface, with the eerie darkness of night peaking through the gap.
As the glass drew near, the Tohsaka nearly had to crane her neck to even see the faint starlight dwindling down from above, and with a huff of annoyance, she leaned up, propping an elbow along a small wooden ledge as her chin crested over the horizon, allowing her to see into the vast distance.
The city of Fuyuki stood so far away, yet its lights remained ever-present, reflecting the bustling nature of modern life without so much as a moment of proper rest in our globalized society. She rested there, watching the flickering lights as various parts of the city remained unlit, bringing a scowl to her tiny face, knowing her father was somewhere out there while she was stuck here.
Her blue orbs narrowed as a tremble overtook her person, whether from standing on her tip-toes or through sheer anger; the Tohsaka would only admit to the latter, feeling as though she could have done something to help. She was trained for this, raised in her family's magecraft, learning the intricacies of utilizing jewels to her advantage, so why... why didn't her father bring her along?
The wooden frame lightly buckled as she grumbled in atrophy, stubbornly refusing to look away as her scowl grew, her competitive nature taking the forefront, knowing if she was out there...things would be differ- "in~" she briefly scanned her surroundings, hearing a gentle voice, yet not finding a source before a sudden shift drew her attention away once more.
*RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
As though in an instant, the distant city appeared to shimmer, appearing as almost an illusion before reality broke through the veil of confusion; she could only watch as the colossal structures dotting that distant skyline began to visibly shake and rumble from an unseen force...and then came to the glow.
The artificial yellows and whites of urban life suddenly shut off, replaced entirely by an ethereal red glow as...something crashed and waned into the structures, a wave of...something dark; time seemed to slow, with the magus only able to imagine the people below, staring up at some sudden freak appearance, she could almost feel its pressure despite the voracious distance and its blurred structure, giving off an aura of utter dread, sending shivers down her spine and into her very soul...and then it came down.
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOM
The magus shivered as an unholy chill racked her person, only able to observe as the town briefly disappeared beneath the darkness before a colossal blast overtook the land, blowing dust and debris for miles as superstructures designed for the worst nature could give, collapsed, and drove down onto the people below. She winced in fear as the lights in her room shut off, only leaving her and the demonic light in the distance, and yet the magus could only think of one thing, her father was somewhere in there; what could she- "-in~" she ignored the voice, not even aware of its presence, only the raw terror overwhelming her petite form as the shaking grew worse.
*RRRRRRRRRRR
The shaking grew worse as the city reappeared, battered and flattened beneath an unstoppable force as the young girl struggled to even maintain her footing, watching as the horizon grew darker before realization set in, only seeing a vile mixture of darkened ooze interlaced with red lining crashing toward the house, looming over her small world like nothing. She instinctively let go, crouching low as she clutched her toy for dear life, her blue eyes shut as the shaking continued, waiting for the inevitab- "Rin!"
...
With a sudden gasp, the girl shot up, her eyes wide open and utterly blurred, utterly dazed from a distant dream as beads of sweat trickled down her delicate features. She looked down, seeing her arms curled around a small pillow, having pulled it tight during her slumber for some reason or othe-"finally awake, my dear?~"
The Tohsaka blew a stream of air upward, parting through her scattered brown locks as she glanced to the side, recognizing an apparent pressure on her shoulder; seeing a dainty hand gently clasped around it, she followed the limb, meeting a familiar pair of dark green orbs softly staring down at her before a smile followed suit, "up late again?"
The student slowly nodded as her thoughts came down from their jumbled mess, forming a sense of coherence once again; she slowly pulled away from her mother's touch, bringing about a grumble of disappointment from the woman as she stretched her arms to the sky. "What time is it?"
A hum escaped the woman as she slowly rose, standing from the bed and approaching a nearby window, the sight bringing a feeling of dread from the magus, and yet she couldn't say why until pulling back a soft silk curtain made of the finest golden fibers imaginable, revealing the blinding sunlight. The Tohasaka watched in perplexion as her mother scanned the horizon, "I'd say 6 or 7-" she turned, smiling at her daughter in the same dutiful way she always had, "I'd know if a certain someone didn't tinker with our clocks..."
Closing her eyes in somber acceptance, the woman turned with a grace expected for a magus family, shuffling toward the door, having far more to do around the giant property than hound her daughter, not that she was the sort to do that, finding far more solace in silence. Yet... she paused in the doorway as the younger Tohsaka slowly rose up, placing her hands along the oak frame of her bed and placing her feet along the floor. As she did, the woman spoke once more, "Honestly, you're just like your father sometimes~," before simply striding out in a somber silence.
For the briefest of moments, a lull came over the girl's features, utterly blasting through her exhaustion as a simple name reminded her of better times, back when they felt like a real family, not just...whatever she and her mom had at this point. The jewel-craft wielder idly kicked up, dragging her loose bed sheets into the air as she pondered their relationship.
Her mom had never quite recovered from her dad's death, and neither did she, but while the latter took it as motivation to prove the Tohsaka name and live up to her family's goals, the former retreated into herself. Rin didn't quite know why her mother acted like that; her father lived the life of a great magus, and even though she missed him, the young woman still held him a reverence, a goal to aspire to; what more was there say?
With a slight sigh, the magus slowly stood, knowing her complaints wouldn't do any good, having tried for years to make her mom at least live in the real world again, but it was like she was on a loop, doing the same tasks as always...even occasionally setting a place at the table, only to shake her head before putting the plate away. The entire situation left Rin scared and worried for her, but...if she was still going about her day, taking care of her only daughter...her mom must be happy on some level, right?
As the girl slowly stood, waving a hand through her brown locks, she couldn't help but grimace in annoyance, seeing her room immaculately "cleaned" once again while she slept. Where a mixture of books, clothes, and the occasional jewel lay along the floor and even coating various shelves across the room now stood an "organized" space. She grumbled a slur of both words and emotions in a single blurb while scanning the red carpeting, no longer able to find anythin-
The mage's thoughts came to a grinding halt, spotting her uniform neatly folded, resting atop an ornate wooden desk imported from someplace or other. She rolled her eyes at the sight; what was she, five? It felt weirdly embarrassing for her mom to set out clothes for her when the Tohsaka was practically an adult...deep down, she might have felt grateful, although she wouldn't dare say it out loud...after all she had to prepare for-uh oh.
A sudden angst overcame the girl as a forgotten thought surged to the surface as she dove toward her desk, flinging an ungodly combination of nonsense from papers to random hair clippings, utterly destroying the immaculate space in less than a moment as her hand clasped around a familiar metallic surface, thin, yet cold to the touch. With an audible shimmer, the chain rattled as she dragged the piece out of its hidden confines, revealing an amber-like jewel as it gently reflected the calm morning light.
With an audible sigh of relief, the girl fell back into an awaiting chair, choosing to ignore the discomfort of landing on hardened oak, simply keeping her arm raised as she stared up at the device. An irk of annoyance pierced through her person as the mage glanced toward a nearby clock sitting near her bed, observing as the arms began to visibly wind around, reminding her of the night before...finding the pendant locked away in some forgotten corner of their basement, not the puzzle was any trouble for her.
The Tohsaka briefly humphed in pride, pushing out her chest as she gazed toward the ceiling, bragging to no one in particular, but her reflections came to a halt as a sudden pulse emanated from the gem still dangling between her fingers. As the student gazed into its colorful depths, the rhythmic hum continued before dispersing alongside her moment of confidence, only to be replaced by more annoyance...somehow, Rin felt like it was mocking her, but she soon shook the thought away, her long brown locks swaying into her field of view, bringing about a sigh for the dullness of getting ready for the day, but as she soon placed the glimmering jewel down, she could only murmur, "You better be worth the trouble."
...
Minutes later
The magus stood in the family living room, surrounded by finery most would consider obscene. Still, to her, it was beyond ordinary, more a necessity for the life of a magus. She stood at the forefront of a line of prominent members of the Tohsaka line, providing the young woman with not only the resources to continue her studies but work to go off of, but that was a mixed bag in her eyes.
She glanced down, studying the bland uniform she always wore when attending school, the same cream-colored jacket resting over a white dress shirt, with a simple black skirt to boot...the mere thought of attending class when everything felt so close bothered the student. Rin was never one to remain idle, despite her complete disinterest in joining anything at her school; that wasn't because of some fear of losing; no, the magus knew she would win, not seeing much point in joining when there was no real competition.
She gently raised a bottle to her lips, taking a calming sip as the silky yet pleasantly sweet liquid overwhelmed her senses; milk tea, one of her not-so-guilty pleasures; after all, the Tohsaka felt like she earned some spoiling after how far she'd come, practicing for years for this conflict, with or without a teacher to call her own.
A confident smirk graced her features, knowing for the first time there would be a genuine threat, an actual risk involved, where she could push past her limits and prove herself to the world. The Tohsaka didn't care much for the Grail; why would she? No, instead, she wanted to be the one to win for her family; it was more so for her pride than anyone else's, but the girl couldn't deny wanting to be THE Tohsaka to claim such a feat.
*ZZZT
Her thoughts came to a halt as a nearby tv flickered between channels, with a haze of static erupting from its speakers, driving away every feeling except anger in the girl. She tried to ignore it, she really did, tapping her foot along the ground, even taking another sip before huffing, and with an angry stop, trudged over to the device, staring daggers at it as though with a mere look, it would stop, but it didn't, upsetting the girl even more.
The magus glanced around for a remote, yet not finding one, assuming it was lost in some cushion or other; she didn't have the time to deal with this or the energy. Well...she did, but Rin had BETTER things to do than play with gadgets, and while an average person would simply press the power button on the device, the uncaring student didn't even think of such a thing, taking pride in her own solution. And without so much as a thought, the magus raised a hand, clenched her fist, and slammed it down onto the top of the device, the device audibly thudding, sputtering, and then going quiet.
Before her smirk could return, the tv blipped back on, settling on a channel as though the girl had rattled its circuits in just the right way, despite her caveman-like tendencies toward technology, not that she was stupid, but more so not caring for it. A voice escaped the speakers, deep and very monotone, causing the girl to raise a brow at its familiarity before an image came onto the screen, just the morning news.
Some unnamed reporter or other, the same old man as always, with a receding hairline and a dark mustache overlaid a worn-out visage, both from time and a career of reporting the worst the world had to offer. With a hardened gaze, his dark eyes flickered as they read through a script telling of another recent attack.
The magus simply listened as the man spoke of an attempted robbery, a home invasion, something along those lines, not paying attention to the specifics, having heard this sort of talk for years at this point. Her gaze refocused as old CCTV footage flickered onto the screen, showing a group of masked men armed with various weapons, some loosely holding firearms while others gripped what appeared to be homemade bats, looming just outside of a storefront.
She squinted, trying to ascertain the finer details on a clearly outdated camera, and as the men gave one another a nod, they began their march toward the entrance, with her instinctively knowing what they planned to do once inside, only for absolute chaos to break out...calling it carnage didn't do it justice, one moment the robbers were a united entity, the next?
What could only be described as a streak of lightning rocketed into frame, quite literally appearing as though it had teleported into place, with glowing white light blinding a darkened figure hidden within its confines, holding some red object or other as it dug through the asphalt itself. The network skipped quite a few frames, likely refusing to show the specifics of what had happened, but once the footage returned, the Tohsaka saw the results, body bags, far more than there were men at that place, with some prompt or other about a police tip line for any information on the killer.
Rin suppressed a gag, somehow finding the power button by sheer disgust, but it was intermingled with something else, a sense of familiarity like she had seen it in a distant memory or even a dream, long since forgotten or even buried along with the rest of those awful days; she shook her head, tapping the screen off with an annoyed click. She didn't wait to say goodbye to her mother, no longer wanting to be anywhere near media for quite a bit, feeling a sinking sensation within her stomach, needing fresh air, and so without a word, she grabbed her bag and strolled through the front door, walking down the elaborate steps leading away from her property and into the city ahead.
As the Tohsaka caught her bearings, her brown shoes softly collided with the sidewalk again and again as she made her way to school, allowing her thoughts to wander once more. What she had seen had been happening for years across their city, some...vigilante, if you could even call it that...no, that implied some kind of justice; this was something else.
Her blue orbs stared far into the horizon, seeing the occasional car lazily drift down the road on its morning commute, becoming a strange mixture of various makes and models of reds, blues, and even a few whites, and yet she paid them no mind, seeing not a single person walking anywhere nearby. At one point, she could have guessed it had something to do with the time or even where she lived, considering her neighborhood was mostly for the upper class; having your kids running around outside gave off a bad look, but this was different.
Fuyuki never quite recovered from the last Grail War, and Rin was fully aware of it, no, even she hadn't really gotten over what had happened that day, and the Tohsaka wasn't even in the city when...whatever events took place occurred. Still, she saw the results, and so did many others...People don't just forget destructive times; that was a lie painted in movies and books; no, trauma felt like a collective experience, something to endure for a time long after things had settled down.
She paused her morning walk before looking around both her neighborhood and the distant city, knowing full well that half of the buildings had been abandoned, their residents leaving for safer ground, not finding the place they once called home as a place to raise children or even find a job, it just never felt the same after those awful weeks, it permeated the air itself, just a societal decay.
Rin was a magus, but that didn't mean she couldn't understand how ordinary people reacted, and she had read the reports against her mother's will, trying to peer through the lies and find out what had really happened to no avail, but she had ideas. From stories of missing children to a dangerous chemical spill causing contamination and deformities to a series of both natural disasters mixed with gas leaks across the city, bringing about weeks of hell on its unsuspecting residents. Even if the people believed the smokescreens, the Tohsaka wouldn't fault them for jumping ship, with superstition and general fear guiding many to abandon their lives here for something new...but the wave of "vigilantes" just made things worse.
The magecraft user gently shuffled a hand between her pigtails, straightening them out to perfection as the wind billowed through them, idly humming a tune she couldn't quite remember learning, more a faded memory, yet still there, brought about by some foreign presence in her day... That same feeling drove many away from the city; even if they managed to scrape their lives back together after the disaster, many suffered from the ensuing chaos, with crime running rampant...the magus even remembered her mom locking each and every door despite the bounded field protecting their estate, with anxiety running high, a new figure struck.
A car zoomed by, honking its horn as it blasted through someone attempting to park nearby, the sound destroying the girl's train of thought as it roared into the distance as a blur. Just the same, they would appear, kill every single person at the scene, only sparing the victim before vanishing, leaving nothing but scorch marks and dismembered bodies as evidence, with pieces so cleanly cut, they didn't even bleed, merely scabbed over by some searing material. The police had no clue what they were dealing with, unable to even see beyond the electric veil in the footage, and even she struggled to figure it out.
Call it a sense of justice or even disgust; the Tohsaka had tried tracking the person for a while, using the occasional piece of jade or even amethyst, creating an array of familiars to follow them, only for the figure to vanish into thin air...and there was only so much she could get away with wasting before even her mom spoke up about it, not that Rin quit, she never quit, but for the time being, she felt stuck...just another annoyance in a sea of hassles.
The school gate loomed in the distance, driving the magus to walk just a bit faster as a cool morning breeze overtook her lightly dressed form, sending an uncertain feeling through her person, with the sensation only growing as she grew closer by the moment. Tonight, she would summon her own Servant, and with any luck, she and her Saber would win this Grail War with ease, but still...
The Tohsaka looked left and then right, seeing no one in her immediate vicinity before letting out an audible grumble, ruffling her hands between her hair in frustration at the mere thought of having to go through an entire day of classes with this on her mind. Seriously, it wasn't going to leave now that she thought of it, driving yet another boyish groan of irritation, knowing fully well how slow this was going to go now.
As the open metal gate loomed ahead, surrounded by a small wall of white material, granting it a relaxed yet secure environment, the magus sighed, figuring it couldn't be helped, and soon sorted herself out once more from the outburst, appearing as immaculate as always once she crossed the boundary and into the courtyard. The young woman soon scanned the horizon as the sun began to shine just a bit brighter without so much as a cloud in sight, illuminating the yellow schoolyard in a strangely pleasant heat despite the windy chill, allowing her a brief respite from the elements.
The magus's blue orbs narrowed as she failed to spot a single person, not even within the many windows along the various buildings that made up Homurahara Academy, driving a new grumble from the magus, knowing her mom had guessed the time completely wrong, not wanting to admit her own fault in the matter, blame felt far easier for such things.
The student briefly stood there, uncertain of what to do; not like she did anything in particular at school, not really seeing a point in breaking the image of the "illustrious Rin," something she took pride in all the same, was just that, an illusion to ward off suspicion, but it came with upsides, being able to come and go as she pleased, not having to worry about sports or some club nonsense...although...
A hum escaped the Tohsaka as she cupped her chin in thought, figuring she had quite a lot of time to kill and little to do with it, but speaking of clubs...the girl glanced at her hands, quite literally weighing the options in her head, on one side, the person she had in mind would at least keep her occupied for a bit, but the downside...seeing a certain blue haired Matou.
The very thought of that weirdo sent a shiver down the Tohsaka's spine, not of a sense of fear, knowing she could handle herself without so much as a doubt against a failed magus like him, but more so the look he gave every girl within a few feet of him, it felt predatory. She blew a stream of air toward the sky, watching as it faintly trailed as a white smoke before the morning sun dispersed it immediately; she shrugged at the sight, figuring either she or the club leader could keep him in check if he even bothered to show up today at all. And as the girl lazily swung her schoolbag, she traversed across the condensed yet expansive campus, walking past a myriad of buildings before an open structure came into view.
It stood tall, a work of old age design, featuring an elaborate facade combined with modern materials, forming a house-like exterior of plain white coating with darkened shingles along the roof, their extended forms casting a looming shadow over the Tohsaka as she slowly approached. The sliding wooden door remained open as the occasional sound of shuffling feet and a commanding voice reverberated within its confines, energetically shouting, "that's it!...again!" followed by a sudden yet very audible crack of wood against some hardened surface.
Rin paused, realizing they had already started practice; the magus resigned herself to simply observing, not wanting yet another invitation to join a club by her sheer proximity to whatever they were doing. With a quiet walk, the girl peaked inside, spotting a set of darkened auburn hair bobbing up and down with an excitement only known to those dreaded people called early risers; this one in particular, held an affinity for hard labor, an old friend of hers, Ayako, wearing one of the many uniforms she always seemed to have on hand...somehow looking strong despite wearing such loose fitting clothes.
A breeze failed to bring even a minor drift to her form-fitting white shirt overlaid with a thin leather coating in the front, with the ensemble held in place with a tied sash around her waist. Her long, darkened skirt drifted toward the floor below, swaying just above the ground as her wooden sandals clicked with each minor jump, adding a layer of immaturity to her otherwise traditional choice of clothing, part of some government program to revive the "classics," whatever that meant.
"Again!"
A sudden shout drew the girl's gaze as her blue orbs shifted toward a nearby motion, realizing there was someone else in the room, she squinted beneath the peering morning sunlight as it dove in from the open range ahead, where targets of various sizes and shapes stood at growing distances, with some almost dots in her limited field of view.
The magus watched as a pale arm slowly rose, dragging a colossal yet thin piece of woodwork, curved to perfection as a string connected its disparate ends, a daikyū, an art both their society and government had tried to revive in recent years and the Tohsaka could only watch in mild surprise at the almost machine-like efficiency with which the wielder raised the device high, their gloved left hand gripped firmly around its center, wrapped in a layer of white cloth as their pale finger extended toward the distance. The other hand, wrapped in the same back material as its counterpart, without even so much as a glance from its owner, instinctively reached down, grasping an elongated arrow with sharpened edges from some strap along the side of their skirt, raising it high before pulling its nock back as the bowstring audibly resisted, yet gave way to superior force.
The Tohsaka could only glance down the pathways ahead, following the course the projectile was destined to follow, her sight landing on the furthest target, a small yet colorful circle with various markings indicating points for accuracy, and yet she could only stare in disbelief, seeing three shots landed dead into the center, with little room for another...how?
*FWING
As if in response, the wielder let go; the sheer pressure behind their pull allowed the device to soar through the air, becoming a veritable blur of darkened black and brown lines as it raced toward its target, the wind screeching around its surface as it refused to change course for even a moment.
*CRUNCH
Rin could only wince at the sudden sound of cracking wood, soon opening her eyes to the world once again, only for her disbelief to turn into a brief sense of awe as she observed the target, the arrow had gone straight through another landed shot, breaking through its embedded form, shredded fragments along the ground before taking its place anew, a perfect strike, and as she studied the ground, noticing a sea of broken material, she soon realized not a single one had missed.
Even as the instructor began to clap, cheering the figure on to keep going, the Tohsaka's thoughts drifted, knowing that sort of talent was beyond ordinary, but wh-
The magus came to an abrupt halt as she observed a streak of purple hair flowing in the breeze as beads of sweat trickled down the surrounding pearl-like skin, the same current overwhelming their traditional garb in a refreshing cool. The figure slowly turned toward the club director, the sight forcing yet another awful mixture of emotions to bubble within the student's stomach, with features all too much like her own, a person she had known for years, yet was pushed away because of the rules of their world, her once sister-
With a sudden clap, the girl's motions came to an abrupt stop, observing in silence as her director gave a confident yet approving smirk, "We'll take five and get back to it in a few, alright Sakura?"
Rin watched the girl slowly nod, slowly raising her weapon before slinging it over a shoulder, using her now free hand to wipe her forehead in a brief reprieve, but as she did, a set of sandals clacked along the floor before a tan hand fell onto the girl's shoulder, as another gave a confident thumbs-up while a pair of auburn eyes glimmered in excitement, "With you, we might not even need a full team, who needs that creep brother of yours anyways?"
A strange look overcame the girl for a moment as the observing Tohsaka had a sudden urge to leave, slowly backing away in discomfort, hoping to get away without being seen. While the director remained unaware, a single purple orb shifted toward the magus, looking straight at her as a dry, monotone voice responded, "he's not that bad."
The girl paused, simply meeting the girl's gaze before, within seconds, the Matou shifted, no longer paying the soon-to-be Master any mind, but the pressure on the student remained ever apparent as her mind refortified the cracks along its foundations, in a sudden urge, the Tohsaka spun on her heel and walked away, far off toward her class across the barren yellow terrain of her schoolyard, thoughts running wild.
Did Sakura know she was there the entire time? How? It just...felt off, and the way she said that...and that look, Rin felt nothing but confused. Her stride came to a complete halt, just staring down at her hands; no, she had to have misunderstood something; every time she saw Sakura... she seemed happy, right? The Tohsaka thought back to those times she would encounter the girl from a distance, watching as she interacted with that Emiya boy, even spotting them walking home together.
The sudden anxiety began to dwindle as the girl reassured herself, believing it was just her not understanding the conversation; no, them being separate was for the best, and as long as her once sister seemed okay, Rin would deal with it...everything was fine, she was just overthinking it.
The magus collected herself, taking a calming breath as she gazed toward a building ahead, watching as the occasional student passed by a window and onto their own various tasks for the day. She sighed, taking one step and then another toward her next class, hoping the rest of the day wouldn't be so exhausting.
...
Later that night
An ornate door clicked open, followed by an annoyed huff as the shuffling of metal and the audible thud of heavy boots trudged across an immaculately clean wooden floor, and yet, a figure did not appear, merely hidden behind a veritable tower of containers balanced through sheer force of will as they walked with a static rhythm throughout the confines of the Matou household. The former Servant walked with a stride only known to those with perfect muscle memory, able to travel through the maze-like confines without so much as a glance at where he was heading; although having a built-in radar helped, the cyborg wouldn't admit to such a thing.
His wild blonde hair shuffled with each step, with his synthetic strands reflecting a sort of agelessness across his entire facade of humanity, as though they were locked in time, never quite dwindling into the greys of retirement; the mere thought of such a thing seemed an impossibility to the cyborg anyways...no, the warrior might be nearing his fifties but retained the youth captured at the moment of his conversion, eternally thirty-one despite his continual development, although much of it remained unseen.
The cyborg clicked his tongue in annoyance, the mere thought of the Patriots bringing out the worst in him despite how long ago it had happened, and while he might have accepted his current standing, he would always hate them for what they had done. As his blue orbs drifted toward the veritable mountain of metal held within his augmented grasp, yet another sigh escaped him, reading the simple yet all too meaningful phrase, Tokugawa Heavy Industries.
As his multi-ton form threatened to break through the flooring with each step, his mind wandered to other realms, illuminated both by the sporadic lights passing overhead alongside the resurgence of old memories. To most, they were just another part of the military-industrial complex, a simple producer in an endless cycle of build-up, conflict, reconstruction, and renewal, their armaments fueling misery and strife for little more than profit. Raiden had lived in such a world his entire life, practically memorizing the company logos strewn about on each corpse and weapon he found lying about the jungles of Liberia. Still, it was what happened behind the scenes that made the warrior's synthetic skin crawl.
A sudden itch overcame the cyborg's metallic skull, reminding him of the emblazoned helmet he once wore during those early days of his conversion, with a fine layer of darkened glass keeping his long white locks contained within a static confinement, with not only a logo but a barcode to boot, displayed for all to see... that mindset is exactly what made the killer hate that Patriots subsidiary so much, seeing both him and any other soldier as less than human, merely property to utilize for marginal gain, just another phase in the ever-expanding realm of conflict, where every technological leap opened up new pathways for abuse, from perfect soldiers to fully cybernetic warriors capable of inhuman feats, it never ended.
As the Liberian traversed the same halls as always, he felt a fleeting sense of serenity to it all, watching as the occasional blip of color peeked through the cracks between the containers blocking his line of sight. Even having a home was a luxury for most cyborgs, and it was something the world felt all too comfortable ignoring, and it wasn't just some simple game of limiting where they could go. He rolled his eyes, thinking back to that drive through Denver; stopping a cyborg from entering a city was common, and it was even more common for him to ignore those laws entirely.
In the future, cyborgs practically had no rights to speak of; sure, it was getting better, with those kids being the first generation to ever actually get civilian work, not having to spend their entire lives on a battlefield, forced into a life of conflict they didn't deserve, but there was a lot of work to do in the meantime. Civil liberties practically didn't exist for them, with who knows how many men and women alike signing away their souls to conglomerate PMC organizations, their mandatory leave being utterly ignored as nanomachines forced them into an enraged frenzy. Jack chuckled at the absurdity of it all, corporations had destroyed the planet, and now, they come for your soul; his eyes briefly flashed a vibrant red, as if he'd ever let that happen.
As his destination drew near, the samurai shook the thoughts away in stride, figuring it would be something to address whenever he got back to his own time, but for the time being, he was stuck in a not-so-foreign land with...well- before the veteran could even orient his distracted mind, a feigned grumble of annoyance broke out ahead as a forcefully stern voice echoed out in some mocking tone mimicking a drill instructor, "You're home late."
Shifting to the side, the soldier glanced over the corner of one of the boxes, only seeing a familiar purple blob bouncing up and down alongside the impatient tapping of shoes along the floor. He secretly grinned, not having the heart to take someone still so much shorter than him seriously. Sakura trying to even act tough never failed to make the mercenary smirk, but God forbid she ever saw it, then he'd have to deal with her pouting the rest of the day like a wounded animal. With a shrug, the ninja spoke in the same disregard for concern as always, "Wow, buy a girl a present and get the cold shoulder; I'm hurt."
She audibly scoffed; whether or not the girl rolled her eyes, the cyborg couldn't say, but it felt like something she would do, having grown far more stubborn over the years, making him wonder if that was from him or just the heiress getting more confident to be herself. She broke his chain of thought as she spoke once more, "OH, PLEASE! If I'm cold, you're the king of the freezer, Mr 'secret agent.'"
Earning a light chuckle from the former Servant, the man slowly shifted the colossal stack to one hand, the sudden motion revealing his adopted ward standing in all her short stature, still wearing the same school uniform as always, staring at him, hands on her hips in some mocking stance. He forced a huff of his own, "Well then, you learned from the best little miss."
A moment passed before the pair dropped the act, smiling at one another as the magus approached, mumbling an offer to help, but as the cyborg slowly lowered to let her grab a container, the purple blob reached out, catching the veteran off guard in a hug to his side, mumbling into his jacket, "Welcome home, Jack."
With a smile of his own, the Liberian raised a free hand, ruffling through her purple locks earning a grunt of annoyance, and yet, his protege refused to let go, as a feeling of both pride and care overtook the man, seeing the girl he raised into the confident person she was now, he felt a strange yet fleeting sensation, wondering if this was what it was like for David to watch him grow all those years ago, the sensation almost forcing him to ask, "Kept you waiting, huh?"
After a moment, the cyborg glanced about the room, the same living room as always, lined with an array of ornate furniture he had never bothered to get rid of during his "purge" all those years ago. He was cautious, and if it meant eradicating every last trace of Zouken, then it meant scrounging every last inch of the estate for weeks on end to find those worms of his, eventually ending in what certainly wasn't a blind rage of throwing things in a burning pile and calling it a day...definitely not something the Liberian would do.
Jack grumbled, gently pushing away from the magus as he tried to find somewhere to put the veritable tower of nonsense he had bought over the past few days, traveling across the country to meet his horde of middlemen and intermediaries. He rolled his synthetic eyes, seeing nowhere to drop the stack, well if he had it his way, the cyborg would just throw it on the floor and call it a day, but that meant a lecture on cleanliness from the Matou, and he had enough second-hand knowledge from how often she did the same to the Emiya kid when he was around...although something told the warrior that boy didn't listen whatsoever.
With a shrug and a shift of his wild blonde hair, the man chose to sacrifice a nearby couch; the material softly thudded as case after case landed atop its cushioned surface as the soldier went to work, organizing his materials in the most chaotic way possible as he always had, finding a semblance of order amidst the sea of confusion only he could comprehend, just another norm in Raiden's long and confusing life.
His augmented digits flickered to life, winding through a nearly incomprehensible series of locks intermingled with the digitized buzz of various systems checking his falsified biometric data as he unraveled the container with a sort of methodology only acquired through sheer experience. A hum broke out from behind the samurai as his apprentice tried to lean over his shoulder before sighing in defeat and walking to the side, her light smile never leaving as she spoke, "so, what'd you get me?"
The veteran maintained his tasks with practiced ease, impatiently waiting for the outdated tech to recognize his "data," well, it was more a complete lie fabricated through his systems; Raiden wasn't stupid enough to give the Patriots or anyone else any information that could lead them back to the Grail... if they didn't already know about it. The ninja pushed the thought aside, choosing not to dwell on something he had no control over, simply muttering, "nosey."
Without so much as a word, the Matou poked the cyborg in the back accusingly, her pale finger tapping against unseen solid steel as she faked yet more annoyance, "Well, I was taught from the best, wasn't I?"
As the final locks began to give way, the killer's grin grew in both pride and the satisfaction of finally completing a redundant task, and as he reached out, grasping the handle, he could only agree, "damn right you were, and I think you're ready for the next step."
The container opened with an audible hiss as a thin layer of smoke escaped its softened confines, revealing a bundled mass, appearing as a folded piece of rubber interlaced with metallic plating, spread about its surface in an all too familiar pattern. With a nod of silent approval, the warrior slowly gripped its edges, feeling the soft yet durable material slightly shift beneath his augmented grasp; he turned, allowing the suit to unfurl itself for his protege to see, simply muttering, "It's called a skull suit."
The cyborg knew its systems like the back of his hand, having studied the prototype designs for months before paying an obscene price to smuggle one out of an R&D department, but it was worth the cost. Raiden was no expert in magecraft; sure, he had years to develop and hone new abilities and countermeasures, but even his information was limited, and he needed guarantees, something the warrior could rely on to protect the magus that stubbornly refused to walk away. His voice escaped, caught between a fond reminiscence and a crawling sadness as he stared down at his ward, watching as her purple orbs instinctively studied the suit's features, focusing on vital areas, bringing out yet more pride...still the same smart kid as ever. "You know, I used to wear one of these; it kept me alive even in the worst situations I could imagine-"
Jack briefly paused as old memories flickered before his eyes, those hellish moments on the Big Shell, fighting through a feigned decontamination facility, encountering things the soldier couldn't even conceive of, and finally meeting and inevitably facing off against his own father in some perverted experiment to create another Solid Snake... He shook his head, denying the thoughts any further, knowing it was in the past, and all the veteran could do was accept it for what it was and live his life. He came back to reality, his blue orbs flickering back online as he slowly lowered the suit down, smiling at his adopted ward, "You'll need it-" he stopped as a strange look overcame the girl like she wanted to say something but didn't know how, something he became well adjusted to over the years, "something wrong?"
The Matou stared at the device in trepidation, her pale hands opening and closing as though she were uncertain of something, no longer staring at the suit but at the man who taught her everything as old anxieties resurfaced, her gaze dropping low for just a moment, "You still haven't told me about then... or why you needed stuff like this-"
With a sigh, the magus slowly stared up, a sad look overcoming her delicate features, wondering what Jack's life was to make someone like him so used to handling weapons like nothing, it brought out a deep pang of regret that the girl had come so far, but he always seemed to hold a grudge against some unknown force, not letting anyone in, not really...The cyborg was her role model, the person she wanted to be like, but some part of her wished that her adoptive parent would let someone else do the same for him. "Can we talk for a second...please?"
Jack stared in confusion, unsure where this was coming from all of a sudden, but slowly nodded as he saw the almost pleading look in the girl's eyes. She crossed her arms with a soft huff, glancing off to the side as she observed the room that once felt as cold as any other in this house, now a place of fondness, a feeling she didn't want to lose. "When we met...when I was little, during the last war, every time you left I...I didn't know if you were coming back... if you'd survive whatever you were going through."
A pained smile overcame her features as she glanced toward the distant stairwell leading up to a study she once spent so much time in with her uncle, the only person she ever felt truly safe with in this house until meeting Jack. "You know, he used to talk about you...my uncle...whenever you weren't around, always saying how you were a good person... even if you didn't like telling the truth about who you are."
The warrior shook his head, his wild blonde hair contrasting with his darkened suit as he lowered the object in his hands, staring down at the girl as pangs of regret overcame his person, he hated seeing her upset, but the man had limits on what he could and couldn't say. With a grimace, he spoke, "It's not that I don't want to, but-" he sighed, thinking back to David, only wondering if this was the right thing to do, "look, kid, I care about you more than you could imagine, and that's exactly why I can't drag you into this any more than I already have."
A surge of frustration overcame the magus as she gripped a fist, her arm lightly shaking as she glanced toward the various containers lined with equipment meant for her to use, "don't give me that talk; you're my family, and I hardly know anything about you...-" a burning sensation overtook the girl's eyes as she pressed onward, raising her pale hand high, exposing the burning command seal as it flashed a fiery red across her flesh, "I can stand on my own because you took care of me when no one else would, I'm a Master because you let me be my own person...you told me for years to let people in, Jack; why can't you do the same?"
With a raised brow, the cyborg's mouth opened and closed, his mind not focusing on the question but on a deep confusion, his gaze narrowed, allowing a hand to let go of the material, raising an open palm upward as he spoke, "...where is this coming from? And what do mea-" he stopped in his tracks, his gaze tracing back toward the still fiery seals strewn across the girl's hand as realization set in, "You did the ritual, didn't you?"
His protege slowly nodded, choosing to ignore her own anxieties as a bubbling frustration took hold, knowing the exact feeling of being out of the loop for years, but now, she wasn't going to put up with it. "...you just told me I was ready..." her grip instinctively tightened as she spoke, "why is it such a big deal for me to do things on my own? Isn't that what you do?"
He stared before slamming a hand over his eyes, rubbing away his frustrations to no avail as he leaned back, facing the ceiling for the briefest of moments, mumbling through his parted fingers, "is that seriously what this is about, proving yourself?-" his head lowered, revealing the veteran's blue orbs once more, "Sakura, there's a difference between doing what has to be done and being an idiot, what if you summoned a psychopath like Caster!?...-" he lightly tapped his foot as she girl gazed toward the floor and with a sigh, he asked, "did you even consider the kind of person you would call on?... There are risks to this, and I thought you knew that."
The Matou grimaced, but her brow soon furrowed once more as she stared down at her shoes, "You think I didn't consider the risks?-" slowly, her head rose, revealing a shimmering pair of purple orbs as emotions took hold, "You come and go as you please, Jack, you don't tell me or anyone else when you'll be back or what you're even doing out there..." The mage's gaze hardened as she felt the ever-present sting on the back of her palm burn just a bit hotter as she stared at the cyborg, "you told me to make my own choices, and I did, don't get mad about me following your advice..." with a huff the heiress glanced anywhere but there, barely muttering, "...she's nice by the way."
Raiden raised a brow at the wording, briefly wondering what class or even person ended up getting summoned before shoving the matter aside, knowing he had to fix this situation first; it was just something he picked up after years of being a parent... and not having seen his own son in years made the man far more self-aware as time went on, his look softened as his annoyance simmered down, "look, I'm not mad at you, I just worry-" before the girl could open her mouth, the warrior quickly raised a hand, silently asking for her to let him continue, "I know I trained you, and I know you can do these things, but that doesn't mean you have to do them alone, you should understand that the number one priority is always mitigating the risks, you can plan all you want, but experience matters a lot more than just working it out in your head, you can't predict everything."
Letting out a bated breath, the student blew away her frustrations with a blast of air, observing the uniform loosely dangling in the man's grasp, picturing herself on some frontline sneaking around...an image of a cardboard box appearing for some reason to her confusion before dispersing into reality once more, "Then why don't you ever take me with you? If you want me to know what it's like, then...show me."
A cold look came over the Liberian's features as he reflected on a life of war and turmoil, thinking back on those formative years in what could only be called a living hell. He looked out a nearby window into the darkened void of night, staring at a flickering patch of grass as the wind overtook their tiny forms, no longer focusing on the Matou, and yet his words reached only her, "You like spending time with Shirou, right?" ignoring the girl's embarrassed squeak, he continued, "I know you've been trying to help... doing chores around his house, showing him how to function... believe me, I've fed that kid enough to know he wouldn't survive on his own, not after his dad passed away, but-"
His features steeled themselves, reflecting a sense of utter certainty in his words as a deep gravity overtook the cyborg's very presence; he frowned, seeing the magus glancing away, focusing more on the nonsense than the world in front of her, "look me in the eye when I say this-" as her purple orbs slowly shifted to meet his stern gaze, he continued, "Everyone says the same thing about war, their heads filled with nonsensical beliefs about glory and making a name for yourself, and it feels good, really good as if you're actually making a difference, but you aren't thinking about the consequences."
A crackle of static traveled up the warrior's arm as his augmented fist clenched, knowing this was a painful truth the girl needed to hear before having it happen out of nowhere, but it wasn't easy. "Are you prepared for everything you know to feel hollow, for the things you used to enjoy to suddenly bring you nothing but a pit of empty emotions?... Because that is exactly what happens the second you take a human life, and I don't joke about this; it isn't like the movies..." he stared down at the rubbery material dangling from his hand, watching his own distorted reflection suddenly give off a red glare as he spoke, "there's no getting over it, you will regret what you do in this war for the rest of your life, and that's why I didn't want you helping me for as long as possible...because I wanted you to live a normal life as long as you could."
The Matou stood there, taking in his words as a few strands of purple hair fell from her once immaculately brushed locks, covering her eyes in a shroud of color, and yet she didn't budge an inch, simply listening as the man spoke. "Your life isn't mine to dictate, but I need you to know the effects this will have... you can still walk away from this, take shelter with the mage's association; let me deal with i-"
"No!"
The warrior stopped as the girl's burning eyes flashed behind the proverbial curtain, concealing them as they briefly glowed in the artificial light while tears irked at the surface yet wouldn't fall. She took a step forward, then another, reaching out to grab the suit as she stared at him with utter determination behind their burning surface, "You don't get it, this is something I HAVE to do, or it's going to eat me alive worse than any feeling you can tell me about, I don't care what it does to me" her face scrunched up before settling back down, "-just, let me help you."
With a sigh, the cyborg resigned himself, mentally surrendering a fight he never stood a chance of winning, especially seeing her upset; it drove too many pangs in his chest to just keep saying no. He slowly let his grip fall, allowing the magus to pull away an inherited right, something he lacked a true decision in all those years ago, taking on a responsibility he could only hope she understood; as his features softened, his voice took on the caring overtone it usually held, "Alright... but just know, you can always back away, and I'll never judge you for it."
As the magus slowly calmed herself, she could only mumble an acceptance before slowly raising the suit overhead, observing its finer details and armored segments with practiced ease, still upset, yet simmering down all the same as rationality took hold. She slowly turned away, heading toward the staircase, speaking over her shoulder, "I'm gonna go try this on, but... we're not done talking about this, Jack."
The cyborg lightly scoffed, wondering when this girl decided she was in charge of the place, soon realizing she was basically just acting like a mini-him...not entirely sure that was a good thing, but it is what it is. He grumbled as he turned away toward the containers once more, "right."
...
Moments later
Metal audibly shifted and clicked as the soldier shuffled through his various boxes of nonsense before his gaze soon landed on an assorted array of parts. He stared down at the collection in fascination as he grazed a hand over their cold surface, not entirely sure why he felt drawn to such a weapon as if it was instinctive on some level. From its high profile dot-type system helping negate the bulky appearance of its suppressor to the extended thumb safety, granting the user better access to the controls... a custom-made M1911A1, his stare never relented as his hands went to work, clicking and twisting the pieces together, knowing the schematics by memory alone, and yet- his voice escaped, hardened, yet firm, "I know you're there, you might as well come out."
A moment passed in utter silence before an unseen array of colorful purple light illuminated the space behind the cyborg, its glow contrasting against his darkened suit, and yet the man paid no mind, simply going about his self-assigned task with machine-like efficiency, his hands moving in a synthetic perfection organic flesh couldn't hope to match, where every motion held intention, with no room for waste within his operational systems.
*click-click
As a pair of boots tapped along the ground, a silence overcame the room, with the only sound coming from the clicking together of metal parts; it felt static, as though there was an underlying tension despite the pair having never met before this time. Still, this moment would define the course of this conflict, a situation where the cyborg needed to ascertain ally from threat, and if it were the latter, his eyes briefly flickered red, he'd handle it accordingly.
...
...
...
A woman's soft yet distant voice broke out, reflecting a maturity and weariness only acquired through some turmoil or other, their form remaining unmoving, simply standing in a sort of static serenity. "...She'll understand what you mean someday."
The Liberian huffed in acknowledgment, a slight grimace growing once more along his pale features, that's exactly what he wanted to avoid, knowing just how much that girl had gone through, and yet here she was, trying to throw herself into a meat grinder...reminding him all too much of what he did-he paused, staring at his mechanical fingers as they twitched with a sudden upsurge of power, and what it had cost him. "And you do?"
A rhythmic hum broke out as the distinctive sound of a rattling chain reverberated across the small chamber, briefly reminding the man of a previous battle...although it wasn't him in control that day, he could still recall it with utter perfection. The Servant took a moment, idly twirling some metallic object in her hand, seeming to prefer the calm silence, yet speaking all the same in a monotone, not of disinterest, but out of necessity, "...some of us may not wish to admit it, but what you say holds true, no matter the intention behind our deeds, the ramifications of taking life can take a toll unlike any other, and you may not realize such a change has occurred until the unthinkable has happened."
She took a step, then another, slowly circling the man as she seemed to observe his every movement, her behavior almost predatory in its nature, driving not a sense of anxiety in the warrior, having lost those feelings long ago, but instead putting him on edge, as though a fight were to break out at any moment despite her comforting words. As the woman maintained her distance, she continued, "I see you worry for that girl, but know this, she is a kind soul, and I doubt she would allow for such trauma to dissuade her from what she seeks."
The cyborg hummed, glancing toward various boxes of munitions; .45 ACP, old but all too effective, even in the modern day, his systems automatically counting and estimating a total without even needing a command. He took a slow breath before responding, "You've known her for what...a day? What makes you so sure?"
Yet more silence occurred for a few moments as the Servant chose her words or simply debated whether or not to answer; the mercenary couldn't tell, having difficulty even understanding, with her giving no tells as to what she wanted out of all this, her existence almost an enigma. She took a step closer, her circle drawing tighter, "I'm quite good at reading people...call it an innate gift, and while she radiates hesitance...I feel a deep love behind her words, wishing to acquire that which she lost...but you?"
Raiden's gaze narrowed as his enhanced senses heard a sniff, as though an animal were sizing him up, driving his blurred hands to move at a rapid yet silent pace, preparing for the inevitable as she took yet another step closer. "...You smell of blood...and metal...your words holding a deep anger..."
The killer's eyes flickered a vibrant red as he heard an almost inaudible drag along the floor and the suppressed rattle of a chain as the Servant simply muttered, "You aren't quite human-" taking off with inhuman speed as she silently raced across the chamber, reaching the soldier in moments.
Time slowed as the samurai instinctively gripped a nearby magazine by its narrow front edge, having loaded it mere moments prior before slamming the device upward, with the material audibly clicking into place as he spun on his metallic heels, slamming the barrel upward as the woman spoke, "are y-" he took in her features in an instant, with long, flowing purple hair nearly reaching the floor and a set of tan features revealed by a form-fitting black dress as she raised a dagger overhead. And despite her masked eyes, she seemed to pause entirely as the cold metal rested against her chin, whether by surprise or merely an act of surrender, the man couldn't tell, and yet he spoke, "I could say the same for you."
They stood there a moment, with the warrior holding his finger along the trigger, without so much as a whisp of resistance in his person, he could simply end things here and now, and if the soldier was a rookie, he would have, but it was more than just a random attack. Seconds ticked by before the man slowly pulled the weapon away, letting it drop to the side as the Servant lowered her strange weapon, an elongated dagger with a flowing metal chain following in its wake. While the average person would stare in disbelief at the scene, the killer knew this sort of attitude all too well; it was a test, with her sizing up what he could do. His grip remained firm as the pistol dangled toward the floor while he observed the strange figure in front of him, taking in her features with a cautious curiosity all too reflective of a trained soldier. "You're playing a dangerous game."
The slightest scoff escaped the Servant as she disregarded the comment, with both seemingly unphased by the fact that they just threatened to kill one another, just an oddity of a life of war from both sides of the spectrum, where death became common, acceptance followed suit. The Greek idly raised an arm, adjusting a blackened band as her fingers danced over layers of purple coating along the material, "One could say the same to you; my Master had told me you were a former Servant still clinging to his existence.. I didn't think it possible to last without a source of mana."
The cyborg rolled his eyes, remembering the years of bullshit he had put up with ever since the end of the last war; he slowly leaned back against the arm of the couch, choosing to ignore its creaking protests. "Something I learned along the way...mages are a spiteful bunch, doesn't matter how hated the person is...you kill one of them, and suddenly there's a target on your back."
He darkly chuckled, thinking back to the literal hordes of deadmen that tried to pick a fight with the person who won a Grail War, whether to avenge Zouken Matou or because of him destroying a Church, he couldn't say...they all looked, and acted the same, rich, uptight, overconfident, and it ended the same every time, they underestimated him and paid for it. "Believe me, I've had mages and the Church up my ass for the last ten years; it really isn't hard getting enough energy to stick around."
The Servant stood there a moment, raising a hand to cup her chin in thought as her tan features contrasted with the glowing light from above, appearing all too human, but the way she acted and even held herself spoke of something else...but that was, the man couldn't quite say. "...and do their lives not matter to you?...is it not a hypocrisy to kill while preaching of the evil behind it?"
A jolt of electricity traveled along the man's augmented form, briefly glowing against the yellow lighting before dissipating into nothingness; he hardly even thought on the matter, having accepted his true nature a long time ago, what seemed like ages at this point. "Everything in life is a hypocrisy, and to live by a code is just denying reality...yeah, killing is wrong, but I'd do it again and again if it meant protecting the people I care about-" his gaze took on a ferocity as a red glow peered out from within his blue orbs, "the man I killed, spent months tormenting that poor girl, putting her through things I don't even want to think about...and I will never regret what I did to him."
A nearby clock gently ticked as its ornate arms moved bit by bit with each passing second within its concealed wood framing. The woman remained still, taking in the cyborg's words with a calmness unlike human emotion, as if she was attempting to ascertain the truth behind his statements, observing for any faults yet finding none.
...
...
After a few moments, almost invisible to the human eye, a small smile grew along the Servant's delicate features as if she had confirmed something to herself; she gently raised a hand, parting her purple locks as she spoke, "Then I suppose as her Rider...I will have to accept the burden once more and protect my Master so that she may not have to endure such hardship."
Feeling the change in atmosphere, the samurai raised a brow in perplexion, adjusting his stance as unseen mechanical parts rotated into position, "a Rider?...-" he lightly chuckled, idly flicking a hand through the air over her person, "Thought you were an Assassin...You know, it's funny, the last Rider I met was basically your opposite, really loud-" he shrugged, thinking back to that red-bearded facade that inspired so many men to follow in his wake across foreign lands, "he was a people person I guess..."
The Rider tilted her head as though she were trying to get a better look at something confusing despite the strange mask covering her eyes, "... and I'm not conversive?"
Running a hand through his nearly bleach-white locks, the Liberian shrugged off the question in stride as hostility was slowly replaced by the closest thing to a casual conversation he could muster, "Compared to Alexander the Great, not really...-" he deadpanned, "believe me, that guy never knew when to be quiet."
Hearing the name, the woman nodded in acknowledgment as though there was some familiarity behind it, with her brow slightly raising in half-hearted interest, "a fellow Greek?...how peculiar...-" as the Liberian narrowed his gaze, trying to ascertain who the woman was despite the vague comment, she broke his chain of thought, raising a hand toward the ninja, "...I am the destructive Gorgan...but you may know me as the Medusa... if we are to protect my Master, I see no alternative but cooperation."
Within moments, the cyborg's confusion turned to mild surprise before settling into a benign acceptance, if you had told him a few years ago that he'd be fighting legendary figures from the past, he wouldn't believe you, but now?... Apparently, Medusa was real...he didn't quite know what to think about that, but...part of him felt disappointed she didn't have snakes for hair...something felt ironic about that, a Snake working with a Snake...with a shrug, he disregarded the comment, reaching out and meeting her hand with his own, his pale synthetic visage contrasting with her tan skin as his blue eyes flickered, "Jack the Ripper." And as the two shook in solemn agreement, the warrior couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to fight side by side with someone after all this time alone.
...
And that's a wrap; hopefully, people like this more narrative style; regardless, I think it'll make for better bonds and developments in this section of the story. As usual, there is less housekeeping to do at this point, so once more, welcome to the Blade Works section; I'm looking forward to what's coming; take it easy, and I'll see you all in the next one.
