"This may be a waste of resources, Master."

Looking up from his workbench, Charles moved his goggles so he could look at her properly. "Hm?"

Saber sat on the edge of her bench, swinging her legs. In her hands, the remains of Charles' smartphone, dismantled so she could see its innards. The sight still made him wince. "Do you... know what a Noble Phantasm is, Master?"

"Is that a trick question, Saber?"

She shook her head.

"A Noble Phantasm… A high manifestation of Mystery that corresponds- ah, I should say, embodies your legend. That's the information game with the Holy Grail War, right? To know a Noble Phantasm's True Name is to know the Hero, since only one Hero can have a corresponding Noble Phantasm. Am I right so far?"

Saber nodded vigorously.

"Okay. Your Noble Phantasm is the Bridal Chest. What's in… here," he said, tapping Saber's collarbone.
"We would classify it as an Anti-Unit ability, but it only works on yourself. It's the man-made Miracle of Victor Frankenstein that gave life to completely disparate biological matter. Either through the will he imparted on you, or a Miracle of the universe... somehow, you gained your own Soul, instead of being a collection of ghosts and regrets."

Saber crossed her arms, and Charles winced.

"Ah. Apologies. No offence. Still, it's remarkable. With a background in Alchemy myself, the sheer efficiency of how you can convert nearly anything into bioelectricity is… well, to be frank, Saber, your creator was brilliant. Even among Heroic Spirits, you should be impossible." Charles breathed.

"He.. was. He was.." Saber faltered. "He was very intelligent. But his heart was incorrect."

Charles cocked his head.

"His heart was in… the wrong place," Saber corrected herself.

"Yeah, I read the account. Look at it this way, Saber. Every great Hero's story ends with tragedy. Heracles, King Arthur, Siegfried, the list goes on. You're the greatest of the greatest and shine the brightest, it's no wonder your ends are always so.. Climactic. Ah, bend this metal for me, will you? Along that guideline."

Saber bent the large metal bar as instructed with little effort.

"Good?" she asked.

"Good?! You're a beast!" Charles exclaimed. "Er.. Sorry. In the best way possible," he murmured sheepishly.

Despite her modesty, Saber couldn't hide the way Charles' words made her glow with pride.

"Ahem. Why do you ask, Saber?"

"... Your heart is in the right place, Master, but… nothing you can build can be 'me'"

Charles nodded, but his expression was practically saying; "Well, actually…" already.
"That's the trick, Saber. Your Bridal Chest, your actual Noble Phantasm, according to my analysis, is unique in that it's acting as a sort of conceptual mirror to your Spiritual Core. It is your physical heart, after all. Changes to your Spirit Origin will probably reflect in your Noble Phantasm, and vice versa. With the right tools, we can get in there and.. Add anything we want. With the right tools and your permission of course, Saber. I call it a Virtual Noble Phantasm."

"How?" She picked up the faded blueprints that Victor Frankenstein had used to construct her all those centuries ago. Her eyes seemed to light up a little, and the fins on the side of her head started to whirr slowly.

"Saber?" Charles asked.

"Apologies, Master. I will use a little more magical energy to stimulate my problem-solving ability," she said quietly, turning over to the reverse side. "You don't know how to wire this Virtual Noble Phantasm… even if such a thing can be constructed. You would have to use something I've passed through. You know what that is, right?"

"Yeah. The sword I used as part of your catalyst for the summoning ritual." Charles laid it gently on the makeshift cradle Saber had helped him fabricate. "I've already made some rudimentary upgrades with the… resources I… appropriated from the Clock Tower. The pommel on the end should act in conjunction with your Galvanism, converting kinetic energy into mana."

The Master lounged back in his seat, sighing. "All that being said… You're right. I don't know how to interface the two of you. It's not like you came with a USB port."

Sitting in silence for a moment, Saber suddenly tore back part of the skin of her wrist. Charles jumped, though instead of blood gushing forth, only a minor amount of brown liquid leaked from the flesh wound, exposing the wires that lay underneath.

"Here should be okay, Master. It's a direct line to my Spiritual Core. You are correct - it's convenient that my mana lines are 'hardwired.'

Gingerly, the Master felt his way through the wires, poking each one with a thin silver rod. The energy that coursed through them was obvious - by design, Saber was as close as could be possible to a perpetual motion machine due to her nature as an artificial human that was maintained by the Bridal Chest. As opposed to the extraordinary homunculi patented by the Einzberns, without it, she probably had no capacity at all.

Still…

"I'm no expert in Evocation, Saber, but your nature as a Ghost Liner should start overwriting any foreign bodies attached to you. It'll probably cost us a Command Spell, to overly the sword's degree Mystery with your own, but..."

Charles held his head in his hands. "Agh. It's all too much. Too many calculations. You know I'm literally running two trains of thought in my mind and I still can't figure it out? There are just too many variables and we don't have enough time. The ritual has to be just right, we'll have to find another leyline, we'll have to impart the appropriate enough Mystery onto it, I-"

Saber laid a hand on his shoulder, interrupting his rant. She only jerked her head towards the window, where the sky was starting to be tinged red with sunset.

"Master. Fresh air. Now."

The Kensington Gardens stretched out beyond Charles' vision. His Servant bounded forward in abject wonder, having never seen a garden like this in real life.

"Master! It's… it's…"

"Beautiful, huh?" Charles smiled.

"Beautiful!" Saber echoed. Whatever Charles had to say next died in his throat as he saw his Servant dive into the nearest bush. Seconds later, she came up with a large bushel of flowers, a wide grin on her face. Charles couldn't help but return the smile.

"How… long?" Saber asked at one point.

"Since you were alive?"

She nodded.

"Well… I'm not sure. At least three, four hundred years? It's hard to know for sure, given that we don't know how much of Mary Shelley's account was apocryphal and how much was straight from your creator's mouth. Why?"

"What… changed?"

Charles thought for a moment. "The world is a lot bigger now, that's for sure. No-one thinks you're real, of course. Ah- maybe that was a little insensitive."

Saber visibly deflated at that. Charles moved to say something comforting, but she only looked away.

"Hey, Saber. Saber?" He asked gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away, a slightly wild look in her eyes. Charles had forgotten that her natural state was as a Berserker.

"Sorry. You don't want to be touched. But… you should know. A lot of the Heroic Spirits we'll meet over the next few days are considered to have never existed too, you know? And no matter what the majority thinks of your existence, the lesson that was imparted by your story can never be denied."

Saber stopped, finally facing him.

"No matter what your creator thought of you… well, we know him as a brilliant man, but also as a coward who couldn't face his responsibilities. He was responsible for you, and he abandoned you. You may have done… certain things, but it wasn't because you were evil. Far from it. Only someone intrinsically innocent could've done what you did."

Charles took a breath. "Sorry. I did my research. You can correct me if I'm wrong."

Saber shook her head. "Master." She offered up a single tulip to him, looking him square in the eyes, which Charles took and tucked into his inner jacket pocket.

"Saber. I-"

The sudden drop in Saber's attitude stopped him in his tracks - her eyes turned wider than before, and with hackles raised she started scanning the suddenly very empty park.

"Enemy.. Servant…"

Saber's dress reverted to her bridal dress, and Charles felt his mana being pulled a little more forcefully as she readied for combat.

"Hark! I am detected!" a male voice called. In front of them, a spriteful-looking gentleman materialised.
His green vest, dramatic leather cape, and pointy brown beard stood out to Charles, though his gangly figure didn't suggest that he was very suited to fighting.

"A maiden stands before me, her fists raised as if to pummel me herself! But surely that cannot be. No maiden dressed to marry the love of her life would manifest as a Saber yet go to battle with her fists, no, no, no. That is the fitting role of a Berserker, who rejoices at the chance to bloody her fists with her enemy's insides."

The Servant laughed. "Haha! Just a joke,of course. I am aware that you have referred to her as your Saber-class Servant. Still, please, lend me your ears, just for one moment, O' Master."

Frustratingly, the limited Master's Clairvoyance that was afforded to him only represented the Servant' Parameters as five faintly twinkling stars, with the star corresponding to Luck shining slightly brighter than the rest.

"Hang back for now, Saber. The fighting isn't due to have started yet."

"Master," Saber spat. She was trembling. Something about her seemed terrifying to Charles. He was seeing her angry for the first time, and she seemed like a completely different person. "I don't know this man, but every inch of my being wants him dead. With your support."

"Saber, no!"

But Saber had already launched herself forward, fists flying at the unidentified Servant. He only chuckled, and the moment before her balled fist made contact with his face, he vanished, leaving Saber swinging at empty air.

Meanwhile, Charles couldn't believe what he was feeling from Saber's status output. Her Madness Enhancement, barely a factor in her being before, had surged, spiking to levels he'd never seen before.

"Saber! Don't make me use a Command Seal! Control yourself!" Charles shouted.

"Never!" she screamed back. "That man…! I need to…! He needs to…!"

Charles suddenly felt a presence behind himself. He turned to see the foreign Servant smirking down at him. "Hello, there, my fine fellow," the Servant said.

"May I interest you in a talk with my Master? I give you my guarantee that you or your Servant will not be harmed."

Any reasonable question the man asked was quashed by Charles' sudden primal fear. Despite being of human origin, even the weakest Servant could pulverise him from this distance. Charles let the vial containing his Mystic Code fall from his concealed hand and crushed it underfoot. Liquid mercury rose up to batter the foreign Servant, and Saber was a split half-second behind.

"Oh!' the Servant exclaimed. "We're out of time, but you haven't said anything. I suppose I will have to make your decision for you."

And with a swish of his cloak, both he and Charles vanished.

SERVANT: FRANKENSTEIN

STR: C

END: B

AGI: C

MANA: D

LUCK: B

NP: ?

MAD. ENHANCE.: E (C)

RIDING: D

GALVANISM: B

WAIL OF THE FALSELY LIVING: D