Prologue
Guilt of Captain Price
-Unknown Place-
Where am I? Captain Price silently opened his eyes. The sky above him was orange, and he felt coldness on his skin as a cold wind whooshed passed him. Its sounds filled his ear, both calming and somehow eerie to him.
The man slowly raised his head and his blue eyes blinked as he adjusted his sight. He found himself standing on a hill filled with grass. The grass was swaying, rustling loudly but softly, as the wind blew passed the surface again. He observed more and saw nothing but miles and miles of plain green field. He recognized this place.
Herefordshire, what am I doing—?
"Captain?" Captain Price heard a voice to his left. The voice was that of a man, but his eyes widened as he recognized the voice. He slowly turned to the direction and stopped in his tracks.
There was a man standing not far from him. The setting sun was behind him making his face shrouded by his own shadow. However, despite the shade, he knew who that man was.
"Soap?"
"Yes, sir, it's me."
A gladdened smile formed on his face as he began to approach the man. Soap – John 'Soap' Mctavish – was one of his teammates from before and a friend of his. To see him standing here right now made him happy.
"How did you get here?" He called, but suddenly, a memory flashed in his mind and it made him stop. Wait…the last time I saw you. The memory played inside his mind and it brought a harsh pain to him as he finally recalled an event from the past.
"Captain, what's the matter?"
Captain Price glanced up and his eyes widened again, this time in fear. He finally saw his friend's face. However…it was all drenched in blood.
"S-Soap…the last time that I saw you—you were—"
"Dead. Yeah. And it was all because of you."
The happiness inside Captain Price immediately disappeared and in its place was horror, terror…and guilt.
"No, I-! Soap, I never-"
"Why did I follow you!?"
Captain Price gasped in fright and took a step back as he watched his 'friend' raise an object that he was very familiar with.
A gun. And it wasn't just a gun. It was the same gun that he put on Soap's chest right after he died.
"Soap, I'm so-"
*BANG!*
A single shot echoed throughout the hill. It soon rang hollow and disappeared into the afternoon sky.
-London-
-Langdom Street Apartment – No.9-
"AAH!" Price let out a terrified scream as he woke up from his night terror. His eyes quickly darted around, looking for the familiar bloody face of his fallen friend. He quickly recognized the dimly lit room he was in. He saw a sturdy desk on the foot of his bed, and a cabinet on the far corner of his room, sitting beside a blackish brown door. The walls were pale brown and it told him that he was in his own room, inside his cheap townhouse apartment in the middle of the suburbs of London.
"I-I'm at my house, at my home. I'm no longer…on the battlefield," he recited between his haggard breaths as he slowly calmed himself down.
"I-I'm at my house, at my home. I'm no longer at the battlefield...I'm safe." Price repeated and slowly sat on the edge of his bed. He glanced towards his bedside table where a small mirror was standing. He looked into his bearded face, riddled with beads of sweat that slowly trailed his cheeks. Heavy eyebags also showed below his eyes, which he had gained from his lack of sleep.
"It's only five in the morning." I don't want to sleep. Price thought with dread as he pulled the drawer of his nightstand and took out his favorite cigar – Villa Clara – and a lighter. He didn't have the courage to go back to sleep. He might dream of other horrible things. The man stood up and walked towards his window. A calm, cool wind caressed his face as he opened the window and lit up one of his cigar sticks. The sun still had yet to rise and the city of London was still silent and serene. The scenery had completely calmed Price, but a frown of sadness was still on his face.
"Thirteen years after I killed Makarov. Thirteen years after I said good bye to all of you…Why do you all still appear in my dreams?" Price muttered, lowly.
The faces of his teammates started haunting him in his dreams several years ago. The first was Roach. He was standing on the same grassy field and then his 'friend' charged at him, a knife in his hand while he was screaming the same words that he always heard, the ones that always scared him.
"WHY DID I FOLLOW YOU!?"
The second was Simon 'Ghost' Riley. His sniper 'friend' charged and choked him. And while he was doing so, he was howling the old man's name and saying the same accursed words.
"WHY DID I FOLLOW YOU!?"
And then, John Mactavish, the last of his friends and the one who saved him from Russia's Gulag.
That was only a dream, and yet he felt the bullet was real.
Price moved his left hand and rubbed his chest where his heart was. "I'm so sorry, son…I'm so sorry, everyone." He muttered under his breath. His tone was filled with regret as he took a breath of his cigarette and blew smoke to the purple dawning sky.
-Dr. Samantha – Consultation and Therapy Clinic-
-London-
Ever since he started having those nightmares, Captain John Price had been jumping from one mental and psychiatric clinic to another. The dreams were negatively affecting his life and so he wanted it to stop. However, much to his dismay, most of the therapy that he had undergone was ineffective.
A lot of the therapists that he met either gave up on him or asked him to confine himself to a local mental hospital.
Ok, again with my dream. Right now, he was lying down on sofa bed, blue eyes up to the boring white ceiling. Across from him, sitting with a disappointed frown, was a dark-skinned woman with a notebook in her hand.
Dr. Samantha, the psychiatrist of the clinic, fixed her glasses as she stared at the former soldier with a sympathetic look.
"You've been my patient for ten months, am I right, Mister Price?"
"Yes." Price weakly answered. Based on her tone, the man knew that this doctor had already given up on him.
"And…I'm the seventh psychiatrist that you've consulted."
"And the longest one who treated me."
The doctor took deep breaths and put her notebook on the table beside her. "You've done all I asked of you to do?"
"I meditated. I've also filled up my journal, and nothing happened. The dreams keep appearing." Price glanced at her and added. "My friends keep coming back and all of them were trying to kill me."
The woman rested her back on the chair, her frown still displaying a dissatisfied expression. "Price, I keep telling you that those are your regrets, manifesting as your former comrades at arms. You need to let it go. What happened is beyond your control." Price looked away as the woman continued. "You already avenged your friends. You are no longer in a battlefield. You are living in peace."
Peace? Yes, I am… "But do I deserve this peace? I was the leader of my team. I should lead them properly. They should live in peace just like me…and yet they are all dead…"
The woman let out a heavy sigh. It was very clear to her that no matter what she said, it would be ineffective. The man was depressed and clearly needed help that she, unfortunately, could no longer provide. "If you do not want to let go of the past, what do you want to do then, Mister Price? You have already filed your resignation to the military. You are now a civilian and an upstanding citizen." The woman paused and leaned forward to the man. "What is your plan?"
Ever since he was a kid, Price always wanted to be a soldier, but now that dream was gone, together with his beloved team. The doctor's question had him feel lost and he could not form a good answer for her.
"My mother owns a flower shop back in my hometown while my father has a bookstore. Both wanted me to take up the job from their stores before, and both were dismayed when I chose to be a soldier." A small reminiscing smirk formed on the soldier's face as he continued. "My parents told me that my violent job will ruin me in the end, but I did not heed it. And it turns out that they were right. I am fucking ruined right now." A low, belittling chuckle escaped Price's lips as he closed his eyes. The psychiatrist, on the other hand, changed her disappointed frown into a disapproving one.
"Maybe going back to your hometown would be a good idea. Even though you already know the place, you might discover new things within it."
"Why would I go back in my hometown? My mother and father are already dead. All I have in there was a house that is probably all dirty and run down." Price glanced at her and the woman merely smiled.
"I'm saying that going back to the place where you spent your childhood might help you connect with yourself, and in turn, give you hope to move forward and live a normal life again."
But there's really nothing there…and I don't really know what I'm looking for. Price wanted to retort the woman, but he could not. The words of the woman had resounded in him, even though he didn't fully believe it, he couldn't help but to try to follow her advice.
After all, what could he lose if he went back. Maybe, just maybe, he would find get his will to move forward.
-The Wishing Chalice-
-London-
Ever since he moved in London, several years ago, and every time he finished from his therapy, Price went to his favorite pub, the Wishing Chalice.
The Wishing Chalice was an old-style pub built around a renovated Victorian home. The first floor was for customers who wanted to have a good time with their peers and friends, which made it usually loud and jampacked. The second floor, however, was for customers who preferred to drink their spirits alone or for those preferred to have privacy. It was seldom filled with people. Other than the lively people, however, the food and liquor were both good and it was also near his apartment. The pub was ideal for the former Captain, which was why it was his favorite place to stop by and unwind before he went home.
"Good thing my favorite booth is empty." Price said in a gladdened manner as he carried his order of fish and chips towards his usual favorite booth. It was beside a large window that overlooked a small, but busy intersection. He sat down and began to eat his comfort food, glancing at the window and replaying the memory of his session from earlier.
"I'm saying that going back to the place where you spent your childhood might help you connect with yourself, and in turn, give you hope to move forward and live a normal life again."
Maybe going back to my hometown might give me a reason to move forward again. "I can't stay like this forever. I have to move. I am sure they wouldn't want me to be brooding forever." Price muttered with resolution as he remembered his team, who were always there for him and would always rely on him.
If they were all alive, they would be scolding him for being such a sad sourpuss, and they would try to bring his spirit back.
If only they were alive right now…
"-xcuse me."
"Hmm?"
"Excuse me, may I sit with you?"
Price heard the voice of a man and glanced to his left. A tall man was standing a couple of meters away from his table. He looked like he was in his mid-forties, and was clothed in an all-black coat. It was attire that made him look like a priest. However, the most noticeable feature was his face. The man bore a very heavy and depressive look that made Price sharpen his blue eyes at him.
"Can I help you with something?" He asked as the man responded with a plain voice.
"Can I sit with you?"
The soldier glanced around and noticed that there were many vacant chairs around the pub, which made the man's request incredibly strange. Why would he want to sit with him in the first place?
What's with you? "There are other places to sit, sir." Price said with seriousness in his voice. He had a rough day, so he wanted to enjoy a peaceful meal. However, the presence of the man made his plan to relax disappear.
"I insist." The man, however, persisted and smoothly sat down on the opposite chair, earning him a dark glare from the former soldier.
Why do you want to sit with me…? Unless— Price began to analyze the man's bizarre and rude action. The depressing man was too strange for him. He could be a homeless hobo that snuck into the pub, or a damaged man with sever mental disorder. However, the former soldier also thought of something else and it made him sharpen his blue eyes, this time from danger.
Could it be that this man is one of Makarov's men?
Makarov, the man whom he killed before and the reason that his teammates met their demise. He was a general and a terrorist, so it was natural that he had lots of men in his hands.
The war terrorist general was already gone. However, Price was not sure if Makarov's men were still around.
And the man in front of him could be one of them.
Shit, if he's one of his men, then I'm in serious trouble! Price cursed himself for letting his guard down. This man might have a weapon underneath his black coat. The soldier slowly moved his hand below the table and into his jacket pocket, where his small revolver was. It was for his protection and enough to defend himself against this person.
"—Araya."
"I'm sorry?"
"My name is Souren Araya." The man named Souren Araya shifted his head a little, moving a lock of his black hair as he introduced himself to the soldier.
Souren Araya? "I'm Jonathan Price, and you, Souren, are rude for invading my space."
"I know and I apologize. I actually know you and was looking for you." Souren said with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. The former soldier, however, responded by gripping and slowly aiming his revolver underneath the table, not changing his disturbed expression.
The man looked dangerous to him.
"Oh, really?" This person, I don't like him.
"Yes. I'm the type of a person who loves to looked up to heroes, modern ones, and you're one of them." The man in black stated as he put both of his hands on the table. The action made Price frown in alert. This man, Souren, had just shown both of his hands to him, which told the former Captain that the stranger was unarmed, but that didn't deter him.
"Let me guess, you're here for my autograph, and some pictures for your Facebook or something." Price played along, his blue eyes remaining observant as Souren lightly shook his head.
"No. In fact, I am here to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime."
"What are you talking about?" The soldier felt bothered by the man's words, but before he could react, the man in black moved his index finger and pointed at the former Captain's half-full glass of beer.
And then a miracle happened.
"Wh-what the fuck-!?" Price gasped as he the beer, which he drank earlier, began to refill to its brim.
Price couldn't believe what just happened. His glass of beer was refilled and cold. He had watched everything from the start and he knew that he didn't see any trick at all. Souren had completely refilled it, but how? He didn't know and it put him off guard.
"Y-You-! What are you-?"
"Calm yourself, Sir Price." Souren said to the soldier with a calm tone. The man immediately followed his request, but his blue eyes were still screaming in fright from the magic that he had done.
"Like I said before, I am Souren Araya and I'm interested in modern heroes because they are very hard to find in this decadent age of modern men," Souren introduced himself again, but he quickly added, "and I am a Mage. For the sake of saving time, yes, magic does exist."
The man in black observed the stricken face of the former Captain whose back was completely pressed on his chair, leaning away from him. "Do you understand, Sir Price?"
Price could not understand what Souren was saying.
Magic? Mages? He had read about them when he was a child. The man was amazed by them before, but he outgrew it. After all, fantasy only existed in fiction. Magic? Mages? Wh-what the fuck!? Price trembled in fear. Even though he had outgrown fantasy and thought magic didn't exist, he began to doubt all of it.
Because if he followed the logic of what had happened tonight, then he would only arrive at new truths.
Magic existed and it refilled his fucking beer. Mages were also real because one was sitting in front of him.
Price knew that he was sitting completely still and had been silent for at least forty-five minutes. However, it already felt like an hour for him. The fact that magic existed and that Souren, the man across from him, was a Mage made him feel nervous. This night should have been a normal and boring one, like every other night he had before, but the event tonight had completely shock him, and had changed his perception of the world forever.
"Price, are you calm now?" The former Captain snapped back to reality and darted his panic-stricken blue eyes at Souren.
"What are you really doing here? What do you want from me?" he asked. His voice slightly shook.
Souren stared at him for a moment, his hollow, black eyes observing the decorated soldier more before he answered. "I came here to give you an opportunity."
"Opportunity to what?"
"To change the world."
To change the world? Price was startled again by what the man had said. What could this man offer him that could change the world? The question lingered in his mind as the man spoke again.
"Mister Jonathan Price. You are the hero of Task Force 141, am I right? I have heard of your exploits and heroic actions. You are a good soldier. In fact, I dare say a perfect one. You always followed the orders of your superiors and always prioritized the mission that was given to you. And above all, you are an amazing leader." The man paused as he flicked his index finger, summoning a black glass of red wine and earning another startled grunt from Price. "Which is why…its so sad that your friends, your precious teammates, all of them died."
At the mention of the deaths of his friends, a heavy feeling began to make home inside of the former Captain's chest. He could see where the conversation was heading and he did not like it.
His fear from the shock of seeing magic earlier disappeared, and in its place was a rising anger.
"What opportunity is this? Are you going to recruit me to Hogwarts or something?" the man snarled at the Mage, founding his bravery through anger.
"No, such a trifle thing doesn't exist." Souren bluntly said as he moved his index finger, dipped it into his drink, and drew a circle with a star on the table.
And then the whole pub suddenly went quiet.
The sudden absence of noise made Price stand up and look around. He finally knew the reason why the pub went quiet. The remaining people on the floor had gone still. Some were in the middle of chatting with their peers, with smiles stuck on their faces. Others were in the middle of eating their food, but they could no longer continue what they were doing because whatever the man had drawn on the table made them all stop.
In fact, whatever the man had cast made time inside the pub stop completely.
"Wh-what?"
"It's getting noisy. I don't want anyone to disturb us as I present you the opportunity to change the world, Mister Price."
Price glanced down at Souren. His anger had completely disappeared as he trembled again to the magic that the man had casted. Fear arrived in his insides again, and it made the poor man sit down on his chair.
"What opportunity is that?" Fuck it, you win this round, magic man. Price had completely given up resisting the man. He had encountered lots of dangerous and deranged men before, and had killed all of them. But none of them used magic, and most certainly, none of them were Mages. He decided to go all along with it. He knew that Souren might cast another spell that could be more dangerous than this time stopping one.
For the first time since they met, Souren cast a light smile, which Price found weird since it was completely depressing. The magic man leaned closer and said to him. "Captain Jonathan Price, let me tell you a story – a story about a mystical war." The man paused as he took a sip of the wine from his glass before he continued with a heavy deep voice.
"'THE HOLY GRAIL WAR'."
Price sat still as Souren continued telling him a story about a mystical war called 'The Holy Grail War.' However, deep down, he was confused and very bothered.
The Holy Grail War was a war that involved seven Heroic Spirits Servants. These Heroic Spirits were heroes from the past, present, or future. They existed either from legends or myths and they were all summoned through magic. And right after they were summoned, they would then engage in a battle royale, like a war. The heroes would kill each other until there was only one left.
Then the said Hero Servant, and together with its Master, would then be rewarded by an object called 'The Holy Grail.'
The Holy Grail, according to Souren, was an omnipotent and all-powerful object and the prize of this bloody war. It was the most powerful object in the history of man for it could grant any kind of wish. However, the object could only by used once. But even so, whatever the Master or Servant wished would certainly happen without any cost.
"Now…do you understand?" Souren asked as he finished his story and the soldier snorted, resting his back on his chair.
"Understand? This is all new to me. Do you expect me to believe you with that?"
"No… I'm telling you that this is real and you are free to take the opportunity or not. If you don't, then you'll miss your chance to do the right thing in this world."
The right thing in this world? Price lowered his head in thoughtfulness before he asked him again. "Why did you tell me this?"
"Because it is unfair that you suffered so much when you're just a soldier who was trying to do the right thing, serving your country at that." Price's heart began to beat fast again as the man continued with a dull tone. "Your friends, your teammates, John 'Soap' Mctavish, Simon 'Ghost' Riley and Gary 'Roach' Sanderson – they knew that they were going to die in the line of duty, but they didn't deserve it, am I right?"
Yes…they don't. Memories of his comrades flashed before him and it made him clench his fists. Thirteen years after he killed Makarov and avenged his friends, he still felt that the death of his comrades was unfair and was somehow in vain. Although he knew that their deaths were not in his control, he knew that he could have done better.
I could have done better that time!
I could have saved them that time!
I should've because I am their leader, and they are my responsibility!
Price widened his eyes as the feeling that he had been trying to keep inside of him for thirteen years was now finally rising to his chest. He was familiar with this feeling. He had always felt it, although he always ignored it.
But now he could no longer ignore it. Instead, he quickly grabbed it and pulled it up.
The feeling was regret.
Souren sat in silence and observed the man. He was waiting for Price's response, wondering what it would be. But he didn't have to wait any longer. He noticed a change in the man's expression. When he met Captain Jonathan Price, he noticed that the man had the pathetic look of a kicked puppy. However, right now, it had changed. The sad look of the man was now gone, and in its place, was a serious look of determination.
The Mage made a small smile. He had won over the man.
"Based on your look, it seems you've decided." Souren began as Price leaned on the table, both of his hands clasped and his blue eyes looking straight at him.
"Yes. I'll bite whatever you said to me. I'll join this war."
Souren shifted in his seat as he took a sip of his red wine and asked the man. "Then I'm assuming that your wish is the resurrection of your former comrades."
"Wrong." Price bluntly said and it made Souren shift his black eyes at him. If he was shocked by the soldier's answer, then he only showed it by making his downcast black eyes blink. He thought that the former Captain would wish for the resurrection of his friends. It was clear as day that he still felt guilty about their deaths.
But Price said otherwise. If that was so…what was his wish then?
"Can I ask why?"
"Do you know the reason why I became a soldier?" Price began as he took over the conversation and took out a single cigarette stick. He flicked his lighter, lighting up the tip, and blew smoke to the air. "When I was a child, I read lots of books of heroes and knights that always saved the princess from burning towers and crazed dragons. These heroes always saved the innocents and protected the fragile peace of their land. I want to become like them. I want to protect the normal and peaceful lives of innocent people. That's why I became a soldier." He paused and showed a determined smile. "I want to be the protector of peace."
Souren stared at him as he absorbed the words of the former soldier. "Interesting, you have a very good dream, Sir Price." The Mage praised the man, although in a monotonous way, before he added. "But what is your wish, Captain Price?"
Price glanced at him. His heart was beating fast, but no longer from regret, rather from a new feeling that had formed after a determination to accept the Mage's opportunity came.
The feeling was burning him and it was something that he had longed to feel once again for a very long time.
A strong and resolute will to move forward.
"I don't want to wish for the resurrection of my friends. If I do so, they will scold me for wasting such a miraculous object when it could grant something much better. That wish would disservice their sacrifices." Price chuckled as he imagined his team and their reaction if he chose to resurrect them.
The Holy Grail sounded like a very powerful object. It could likely resurrect the dead. However, it did not feel right for him to wish something like that. Instead, he felt that he could achieve something more.
Something much grander than resurrection.
Something that could make him let go the guilt that was gnawing at his heart.
Something that could make his comrades happy.
Soap, Ghost, and Roach – I'm so sorry that I couldn't save you all. Don't worry, I know how to make amends to all of you. "My comrades and I swore to each other that we, as soldiers, should fight for what is right, regardless of how the deed was done or what its results would be. As long as it was for the greater good, then we must be steadfast and make it happen, without any reserve or regret."
Price drank from his beer and finally said his wish to the Mage.
"My wish is what made me choose to be a solider. My wish…is for mankind to stop waging wars with each other and achieve world peace!"
Souren stared at Price's determined face. If he was shocked, or had any emotion at all, he only showed it by making the same small, but gloomy smile. The man's enthusiasm to the Holy Grail War was very satisfying for him.
He got him.
"Well then, all I need to do is to tell you how to join the war."
"Shoot."
Souren moved his hand and fished something from deep within his black coat pocket. "The first thing that you'll need is a Servant. You need to summon a 'Servant' in order to participate in this battle."
Summon a servant. Shit, I couldn't even change the ringtone of my smartphone. "Can you speak English, because I'm only a muggle?" Price said jokingly. The Mage only made a single blink.
"Need not to worry. You are compatible enough to summon a Servant. You have a rich, natural, but untapped magic circuit within your body and that's enough." The Mage finally took out an object from his coat pocket and put it in front of the soldier. It was a medium sized box, enough only to contain a single thick book, wrapped in a black cloth with strange symbols on it.
The object emitted a strange aura and it made the former Captain gulp in nervousness. "What's that?"
"The catalyst for summoning your Servant. It also contains simple instructions." Souren said and cast a half solemn smile. He stood up from his seat and fixed his black coat. "And that's all. I wish you good luck, Captain Jonathan Price."
Price blinked. It was now his turn to be surprised. The Holy Grail War sounded so sophisticated, and yet he received little instructions.
"Wait, that's it?"
"Not quite. The war will start two days from now and its location will be…New York City, New York, USA."
At a city, but this is war!? "What about civilian casualties?"
"This is war, Captain Price, and in war, civilian casualty is very normal."
Price widened his blue eyes for a moment, surprised by the man's uncaring tone, but he asked more questions. "What should I do to summon my Servant?"
Souren glanced at him and then spoke. "Everything you need to know is inside that box. Follow the instructions and you will, certainly, succeed in summoning your Servant." He turned around, but stopped halfway before he added with a loud, but welcoming deep voice.
"Captain Jonathan Price. Welcome…to the Seventh Holy Grail War. Good luck, and may your wish come true."
Just as the Mage said that, he disappeared into thin air and the time inside the pub quickly unfroze. The startled former Captain darted his eyes everywhere, looking for a sign of the Mage, but the mysterious man was truly gone. The man had left him, feeling a bit lost, and it somehow irritated him.
I swear that man has an attitude problem. Not all was lost to the former soldier, however. Captain Price went back to his table and looked at the black clothed box in front of him.
Tonight was indeed a strange night, but he gained a lot of things. The offer of the magic man had ignited his will to move forward and he had made a wish that could make the world a better place.
And he was sure that his wish would make his departed teammates happy in the afterlife.
"Not yet. My wish isn't complete." Price took a mouthful of his food and chewed it hurriedly. "I need to join this Holy Grail War and win it. And then…they will be happy…and I will be in peace."
The man looked down at the box again with light in his eyes. He was excited to open it and summon his Servant.
For the longest time since he ever lived in London, this was the first time that he was excited to go home.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Call of Duty and FateGrand Order and Fate/Stay Night. Names, Places and events are all fictional, if one exist in real life then its purely coincidence.
Special thanks to Pure red Crane for beta-reading.
Welcome to my new fanfic. Fate/Seventh War - The Battle of Unconventional Heroes. This fanfic is a crossover with COD (the old one, not the new), which I had played a long time ago and immediately fall in lone with the character of captain Price, and the hit mobile game Fate/Grand Order, which is a cool game with amazing story line. This fanfic however would be, as always in my usual themes, multi-crossover, a lot of animes and cartoons that I watch before would appear here!
I do hope that you'll enjoy reading my fanfic, because nothing makes me happy by making someone happy with my story! See you all everyone, until the next chapter!
By the way, what do you think Captain Price's servant would be? Stay tuned for more chapters, Thinker Out!