Fate/Zero Hair
Chapter 2: The King and the Pauper
One Punch Man belongs to ONE, and the entire Fate Universe belongs to Type-Moon and the Nasuverse, I suppose? I don't, certainly!
Author's Note: I was deciding between working on this or Sinners and Saints, this one out by a short margin due to the fact that I had a flash of inspiration. Hopefully my new computer and my first year of college will allow me to write a bit more. This would have been longer, but my computer is a piece of garbage. I'm getting a new one for college so hopefully this won't kill my motivation, I powered through for this chapter. Remember, Constructive Criticism is much obliged and compliments are always welcome!
When Gilgamesh moved with an elegantly ruthless kind of efficiency. He moved as if he would be content to stand still for eternity but only begrudgingly obliged the very will of the Earth itself. His every action was that of his birthright; a King, no THE King. The perfection of divine works, the keystone of the Age of the Gods.
And yet, for all his incomprehensible power and near-absolute divinity, he could not understand the bald cur that followed at his heels with the instincts of a, particularly suicidal lemming.
"Why do you nip at my heel mongrel," He demanded, as the knowledge was something that should be his, "If you wish for treats, then badger Tokiomi or your own Master."
"I don't know my way around the city, and you looked like you did, so I just decided to follow you."
Gilgamesh chuckled lowly. While they infested his beautiful Garden, at least they could manage to amuse their King as was intended for them.
"As a reward for your honesty, I shall allow your companionship to this city's bazaar," The King of Heroes waved his hand hastily. "You may express your elation at my magnanimity."
"Thanks."
The reply was devoid of any gratitude whatsoever; it was the dullest reply that Gilgamesh had ever heard uttered in his entire life. With dignity, he managed to cover his irritation as they continued to travel through Uptown Fuyuki. They walked through the empty streets for some time before Gilgamesh decided to restart the conversation, a rarity for him, to pass the time.
"So then, Assassin, what feats committed during your lifetime were great enough for you to grace my Kingdom beyond the mortal plane, the Throne of Heroes?"
"Your plane?"
Gilgamesh smirked: a far more common act for him than smiling.
"Am I not the King of Heroes? Does that not mean that I rule over those would-be Legends who take the title of Hero for themselves?" He frowned once he noticed that the Assassin was now simply staring at a flyer for a massive sale at the market. Why did he even bother, didn't only the most pathetic of humans talk to mutts?
As the bald nuisance picked up the flyer, Gilgamesh began to take stalk of the situation. Even this early in the morning, the streets were not so utterly devoid of life. He required more information. Using the knowledge from the Grail, he moved to the television store in sight and examined the news station playing.
"Upper Fuyuki Quarantined, fear of genetically modified insects sparks international debate?" The bald one read out loud as if he could not see the obvious. "Wow. That sucks."
Gilgamesh ignored the pathetic attempt at a pun and stared at the television for a few more moments.
"Get it?" Responding would only encourage it.
"This is no natural plague of locusts Assassin: this reeks of Magecraft." The buffoon blinked a few times before nodding and looking thoughtful.
"But why?" Gilgamesh turned and looked questioningly at him, "Wasn't one of the rules to keep this sort of thing down low? What purpose is there?"
"For exactly that reason," He wondered why he was explaining anything to this imbecile. "The greatest disadvantage of this 'war' is the limited opportunity to attack. The rules of these Magi make it so that it is only feasible to attack at night under most circumstances. However, with a large chunk of the city empty even during the day…"
"They can attack whenever they want," Assassin finished. At the incredulous look, he received the caped hero looked irritated. "It's not like I'm stupid!"
Gilgamesh ignored the outburst, which appeared to annoy Assassin even more. Good, a taste of his own medicine would suffice.
"A crude ploy, but its effect is unquestionable." He looked utterly exasperated. "However, this inconvenience cannot stand. I will teach the fool behind this the price for his arrogance."
And, thus they began to travel to the epicenter of the infestation at the shopping complex.
"You do know I'm not stupid, right?" He received no response.
"RIGHT?"
Gilgamesh opened his gate to pull out a nameless prototype. The first magnetic compass. It possessed no combat utility, but as a Noble Phantasm its nature was not lacking. The magnetic compass was one of the key inventions that when exposed to the Europeans kicked off a great period of globalization known as the Age of Exploration or the Age of Sail. This Noble Phantasm accessed this legend in order to assist the wielder in any task that required navigation or tracking and as a Noble Phantasm, it could easily track the source of aberrant magecraft, especially that of a modern day magus.
Within record time, the unlikely duo found themselves in front of the newly built and now quarantined Fuyuki Shopping Center.
Saitama held his nose in disgust. The shopping complex was completely abandoned following the quarantine and a foul stench seeped through the building, pervading every pore and every outcropping.
"What died here?"
"Other than your sense of style?" Gilgamesh chuckled as Saitama's face contorted. "Nothing, just the stench of modern magecraft. It is at least an accurate representation of the practitioners themselves, lowly insects squirming on the ground vainly searching for purpose."
"Why aren't you covering your nose?" Saitama asked, groaning as the stench seemed to be beyond his ability to shield his nose from.
"I ruled this world millennia ago, there were times when base comforts such as proper sanitation were a rarity." Archer replied, his eyes surveying the area. There was certainly a novelty in meeting a Foreigner to the World. 'Assassin' was not a subject of his, thus he did not need to be judged but could instead could be conversed with. Not as a friend, not even as an acquaintance. Yet perhaps as a glimpse to the fodder that populated another world.
Besides this was the most fun he'd had in a while. With [Sha Naqba Imuru]not functioning properly, surprises were actually surprising!
"And I possess this convenient Noble Phantasm," Gilgamesh gestured to the elegant clothes he wore, which had adapted to his preferences as a collared shirt covered with a stylish black jacket. This was no ordinary outfit. It was a nameless prototype for the Noble Phantasm known as [The Robe of Suliman], it represents the luxury of the Sultan and acts as a 'condition of life' enhancer. The wearer experiences a constant stream of luxury. Their clothing is ideal, the food is gourmet, and the smells are always refreshing, and so on."
"Designer clothing has gotten pretty advanced." Saitama replied, nodding to convey his 'understanding'. Gilgamesh scoffed and walked away. His deception had been seen through!
"Ok, I'll admit I stopped listening after 'And'." Lying was bad. Lying to his meal ticket was really bad. "I had a disciple who was really long winded so I've gotten into the habit of only listening to the first twenty words people say."
"Respect every word this King graces with you, mongrel!" For some reason, the apology seems to have offended him more than the initial slight! "In Uruk, men and gods alike sought my judgement and every word I granted was the greatest gift they received! Enough of this nonsense! We seem to have reached the source of the anomalous magecraft, now stay here while I-"
Whatever he was going to say was interrupted as a giant smoking black stone pillar smacked into him through a clothing store and smashed through a KFC. From the scattered racks of clothing emerged a burly figure wreathed in dark smoke with a glinting red visor. An awe and terror inspiring sight to behold.
"They have K-City Fried Chicken here as well?" Well, to most people at least.
Kiritsugu sighed as the drone he had access to managed to remain undetected. A government official owed him a favor, and he had called upon it to use the surveillance drones the government used to monitor the insect infestation from afar. The blond servant was one they had learned was titled the 'King of Heroes' and their fears were confirmed: they were not the only ones with multiple Servants. At least two Assassins meant that there could be other Sabers or even more than one Berserker.
"Maiya, have the Einzberns sent a message on what is going on with OUR Assassin?" He asked into their comms system.
"Just now, actually," Maiya replied. "Assassin seems to be a Heroic Spirit from another World, due to him possessing a strange skill called Existence Outside the Domain. Also, it appears as if the Grail is providing the entirety of the energy to sustain him, not just most.
"That could be useful if we could convince him to ally according to his own interest. Speaking of our unexpected gift: it appears that our fears were confirmed. There are other extra Servants."
"Damn it, not surprising or anything but-"
"Disappointing, I know."
"So what will we do about this 'infestation'?"
"Nothing. This is most likely a trap set by the Matou's, specifically for Tohsaka. We'll merely observe and take any opportunity as it comes up." Kiritsugu puckered his lips. "Investigate the title 'King of Heroes', he appears to have some connection to a place called 'Uruk'. I have my suspicions but confirmations and a report for possible weaknesses would be a great boon."
"It will be done. How has Assassin been so far?"
"Prideful, but far more manageable than Saber."
"Speaking of which, your wife messaged me and said their plane has been delayed, so they will only reach here towards the end of the day."
"Any foul play?"
"Nothing overt, but I'll double-check."
"Alright then, message me if anything changes."
Kiritsugu groaned slightly. He had given up everything for his dream, but at times like this, he couldn't help but wonder if he was merely grasping at the sun. He had to win the War, or else everything he gave up would be worthless. He would make a peaceful world for Illyasviel or die trying.
"MAGUS!" A booming voice echoed through the area and through the microphones Kiritsugu had planted around the area. It appears as if they had company. "YOUR CALL HAS BEEN ANSWERED BY THE KING OF CONQUERERS HIMSELF!"
A Servant without a tight leash from his Master. Either an opportunity or an unforeseen complication. A magus was calculating and utilitarian but predictable. A Servant, especially one who could call himself the King of Conquerors would not be quite as easy to figure out.
"AND I INTRODUCE MY FELLOW SERVANT, THE RIDER OF MUMEN! OH, IT'S JUST A TITLE? I WAS CERTAIN MUMEN WAS A PLACE, MY APOLOGIES DEAR COMPANION!"
"Kiritsugu what should we do?"
"Nothing." He hissed. "Saber is still with Irisviel and I can't be sure their delay isn't some tactic done by the opposition. They don't know we are here, besides if we are lucky the 'King of Conquerors' and the 'King of Heroes' will wipe each other out for us."
Why put in extra work if the enemy was willing to do it in your stead?
"Sorry Kiritsugu, but you'll be coming with us!"
Kiritsugu turned back and looked down. As a hunter of Dead Apostles he had seem some odd things, some terrible things, and some oddly amusing things. The freaky looking thing that looked oddly like sperm would not normally be that strange but the reaction of his ability as a Master told him something else.
This was a Servant and he was up-creek without a paddle. A Servant with a Class Container he'd never even heard of. What the hell was an 'Alter Ego'?
"Bastard . . . are you looking down on us?" It hissed. "We, Black Sperm, are the superior existence! Human filth like you shouldn't dare and gaze down upon us!"
This had not been the start he'd been expecting to the Grail War. He quickly threw himself backward, not having the time to use Time Alter.
How ironic.
With speeds that reached the peak of normal human ability, even without reinforcement, he brought out a small automatic weapon and unleashed a flurry of bullets at the 'Alter Ego' Servant's face. It wouldn't do any damage but it should be surprising enough to-
A punch to the upper chest and Kiritsugu could feel his organs smashing together. The disadvantage of turning part of your ribcage into bullets was the suddenly some of the protection for your delicate internal organs vanished. He flew across the room and smacked through the dry-wall.
"Wow, you really are stupid aren't you?" The condescension from the creature that had so disdained being looked down upon was something else. "I guess I can't blame ya, this world doesn't monsters!"
Another Spirit not from this World and a unique Class. Something is seriously wrong with this War.
"But then again. . ." It grinned, a glint of malice and sadism in its eyes. "The good thing about being a monster is that you get to blame people for stuff that isn't their fault. Right guys?!"
Kiritsugu's eyes opened and he almost considered praying to God for the sight to merely be from the force of crashing through the wall. Multiple copies of the Servant, as small and grotesque as the first poured into the room.
"What are you going to do Kiritsugu!" The first of the Sperm's, the one that had so easily punted him across the room like trash, asked.
To be pushed to this point on the first day of the War. He'd been too careless. The moment a mysterious extra Servant had been summoned he should have been on guard. It wasn't paranoia if everyone really was out to get you! He'd gotten rusty, far rustier than he thought if he'd forgotten such a basic premise of war. As he pushed himself off the rubble laden floor he began to speak.
"Speak up, it would be a shame for us to mishear your last words." Another Black Sperm sneered. "We might have to freestyle for your epitaph! Kiritsugu 'I don't wanna die, wah' seems pretty reasonable to me, what about you all?"
"Seems fine to me!"
"The thought process of a superior being!"
"Potato."
"There's always one copy that is really shitty for some reason."
Kiritsugu smiled, raising his fist with a glowing command seal.
"I said, BY MY COMMAND SEAL!" The bright glow intensified as energy pulsed. "COME TO ME, SABER!"
A blinding flash and a rush of smoke overtook the room.
"Shit!"
"That's what we get for playing with our food!"
"At least get to see if the 'strongest' Class lives up to its name!"
The smoke cleared and a young blonde girl wreathed in medieval armor stood in a readied stance, holding what seemed to be a disturbance of air.
"It's almost a shame that Fuher Ugly isn't here to see this!" One of the countless Black Sperms idly commented. "He really hates beautiful things. Then again, he's also kind gross. Bullet dodged?"
His fellows nodded.
"Enough banter monster," The new figure, Saber, said with a nonchalance. "Prepare to perish."
"Talking like you've already one, huh?" The Black Sperm at the front might have been the only one talking at the moment, but its share was shared by its comrades. "It's almost as if you are looking down on us."
Saber's lips twitched upward.
"Was it not obvious?"
There were no more words after that. The crowd of Black Sperms shot-forward, their only thought was making the 'Hero' pay for such words.
After dealing with that infuriating Speed O' Sound Sonic, Saber needed something to hit and something to kill. A monstrous enemy Servant happened to fit her criteria perfectly.
So, as the horde of enemies charged, she hefted her blade clad in Invisible Air and cleaved.
Thus, the Fourth Holy Grail War truly began.