AN: A small thing born out of a single line in the Heaven's Feel route, where EMIYA implies that there is a version of Saber as a Counter Guardian.
His steel eyes gazed around the wasteland of corpses. Swords and arrows piercing every dead body, with their blood slowly pooling around his feet.
If his heart was less familiar with this sight, no longer shattered, he may have felt something at the death and destruction.
With a thought, his swords faded into the air, blue dust lingering but for a moment, blood freely gushing out now as nothing stopped the flow. He could still hear their screams echoing in his ears.
He turned his eyes towards the setting sun, enveloping him in a golden hue, his skin unable to differentiate the heat of the sun from the forge that was his body.
This was hell, a hell he unknowingly walked into. Collared willingly by a master without hesitation. Blinded by his foolish dream of being a Hero.
Unable to save anyone in front of him. His heart broke as thousands were slaughtered by him, cursing him, hating him, looking at him with fearful tears. Him slowly losing himself, reflected in the the gradual decay of his inner world, turning itself into a cog, a weapon. Swords upon swords of his victims slowly littered the land, an ever-present reminder of the mountain of corpses he created.
How foolish he was to think this was the furthest he could fall.
He tore his eyes away from the sunset to turn and meet a pair of horrified green eyes. The person attached to them a splitting image of that figure standing in the moonlight.
A familiar feeling pulsed throughout his body. The call of his master.
He opened his eyes to see a world of rust, dirt, and gears. Swords, bows, and shields of all shapes and origins lodged into the ground beneath him. Stretching for miles as a dim light illuminated the world through the dust-filled air. He laid his head back against the flat of a blade he rested upon. Waiting for his master to force his hand. A small act of useless spite.
He did not have to wait long before the world began to crumble around him, the gigantic gears in the sky slowing down as fragments of it began to fade away, being taken apart by the will of man.
The flat of the blade turned into the back of a wall, the ground beneath them shifting into hardwood, the long plains disappearing as walls appeared before his sides. The last pieces of his world crumbled to nothingness, revealing but a small empty room that Alaya gave to all its Counter Guardians.
The room could mold into whatever form the user wished. Fulled by Alaya's mana, it could stretch to any size, imitate any location, real or fake, and fill with any objects. Many changed their room to places that brought them comfort in life. He preferred implanting his world on top of it, draining mana from Alaya, no matter how little it mattered.
Its mana pulsed through him again, its will pulling on him to follow and obey. He could not delay any longer. Long ago, part of him would've wished to resist until the very end as an affirmation of his will and ideals.
That part died eons ago.
With a sigh, he dragged himself off the floor, patting down his clothes absentmindedly as he walked over and opened the door.
A bright white room greeted him. Bereft of any objects or human touches, the only discerning trait of the room was a tiled marble floor. Its purpose was simply a space for Counter Guardians to interact with a manifestation of Alaya's will. A tool and nothing more
He hated this room. It reminded him a bit too much of himself.
Stepping into the blank space, he heard the door close behind him. He was alone in the white box for a brief moment before a swirl of mana began to converge, condensing itself into Alaya.
His mind entered a familiar haze upon seeing the form of his master.
He could not describe the shape in front of him. To his knowledge, no one could. His eyes see the presence of another, his senses knowing that another being is here with him, yet when he tries to put it into words, tries to remember the thing before him even just a moment ago, his mind fails him.
He scanned the room, searching for if any more doors appeared. It was rare, but duel summoning or even a group summoning did occur in dire situations. Those are the ones he hates the least, for he can least pretend ever so slightly to being a hero.
"EMIYA."
He grimaced as Alaya's voice entered his ear. The sound forever unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. He understood the words it spoke but never to voice itself, changing every time it spoke with only a vague sense of familiarity letting him understand that Alaya was talking.
"You have a new assignment," fading after speaking its words and leaving him alone.
It was at least brutally simple and straightforward.
That was the only thought he could process before a wave of information flooded his mind. More often than not, the nature of his jobs were only given after his summons, so the sudden timing of knowledge surprised him.
Parsing out all that entered his mind, he was immediately confused by his assignment.
He was to train a new Counter Guardian.
That in of itself would not be surprising. While rare, it is not unheard of to see one Counter Guardian train another. He even had the rare opportunity of teaching one, though all he has of that time is her blade within his world. The thing that confused him was the one he was training, or the lack of someone. Nothing within the flood of information told him who he was training. There was a blank for their name, looks, history, personality. Anything about them.
This was on purpose.
That was the conclusion his mind came to. For all Alaya was, it was never forgetful. It never left out information about one's assignment. If it ever did, it was intentional. And that alone terrified him.
The sound of the door opening interrupted his thoughts. Before he could turn to greet his new student, something within him halted. The clanging of metal armor, the sound of steel against marble entered his ear.
He didn't know why. There were hundreds of nameless warriors who wore armor. The sound alone should not cause his soul to shake.
Yet something called out, the leftover imprint of what left him that day. He cannot recall that image, cannot bring forth what was part of him for years, yet what remained of it gently thumped against his being. As if welcoming back someone.
The urge to turn around was overwhelming, every cell in his body wishing to turn, the gears in his inner world turning faster and faster. Something about the one behind him called to his very essence. It took all his will to stop himself, he needed to sort out the sudden rush of feelings and thoughts invading his body. He needed to calm down and think clearly. He-
He could not hope, for if the last remains of himself broke, he does not know what would remain.
"Pardon me."
…
With those two words, whatever tentative hold he had on his mind broke from the voice, and fractured memories began to seep into his mind. Fragments of the life he lived dug themselves back up. Images of faces long forgotten and emotions long buried flooded back.
It was too much, he could no longer stop himself.
He turned, and steel met green.
At the sight, a single memory flashed before his eyes, one still complete and whole, of that fateful night under the moonlight.
It wasn't the same, though. He was taller, older, there was no darkness in this brightly illuminated room. He wasn't on the ground, heart pounding and breath heavy. Yet he felt the same as that boy long, long, long ago, gazing with wonder at the woman before him.
A strange sense of serenity flowed into him at the sight, his mind unable to think, his heart no longer racing. This was no longer than a single moment, yet it felt like an eternity to him.
To be able to see her once again, he would carve this sight into whatever was left of his soul.
In the far distant back of his mind, though, a part of him born as a result of his job of never-ending conflict turned despite himself, even in this moment of a miraculous reunion.
That part could not help but dread, he could not help but dread. A slow sense of terror invaded his veins as all the pieces clicked in his mind.
Underneath the miracle of this moment, a terrible agreement had to be fulfilled, one that filled his glass heart with horror. This was not Saber.
This was…
"I am Counter Guardian Pendragon. From this time forth, please guide my sword."