Fuyuki, Repurposed Edelfelt Residence, Tohsaka Manor.

Insanity is 'doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results'.

The Counter Guardian couldn't remember who exactly first said that quote. Maybe a wise scientist or perhaps some crazy pirate perhaps… It didn't really matter who said it. Only that they were correct. To keep trying with the same method over and over, knowing one would fail but hoping to succeed regardless, was indeed insane.

But he dared hope. The fact he would fail didn't mean he would stop trying to do the right thing. He needed to 'fix' everything, he had to… If not for his sake… for—

'Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.

The ancestor, my great master Schweinorg.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.'

The silver-haired mercenary sighed as he felt the familiar sensation of the call. Looking up from the wasteland around him, he saw a nostalgic light bathing his purgatory with almost divine radiance.

'Shut (fill).

Shut (fill).

Shut (fill).

Shut (fill).

Shut (fill).

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.'

She was calling upon him once more. It was all too familiar for it to not be her. Fighting a futile war she had no chance of winning… And yet, once again, he answered without hesitation. He always did. And always will.

'Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword.

In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.'

Another round, another war. Was he going to try once again? Was this another chance to bash his head against a wall, to bet a losing hand against fate?

'Bring it on.' Straining like tempered steel against the heavy burden of heroism, he reached out and grasped the call of the Grail, latching on to the summons of his predestined Master.

'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.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――!'

'I accept your oath under the name of Archer.' Even if he knew his chances, it didn't determine the outcome. He held onto that belief as he strode into the blinding light. 'On my honour, I shall accept you as my Master… Rin…'

He knew she wouldn't hear him, but he accepted the contract and bound himself to her through the Grail.

Once more, the curtains to the Fifth Holy Grail War rose.

'Let's see… which one he would end up summoning this time around. Save me the trouble of unexpected situations and pick that glutton, please…'

Half-joking aside, the bowman hoped this one would be one of the less tragic and difficult routes. Alaya knew he was done with the horrifying ends of the story. Cut all of them some slack and let them have it easy. For at least once in his many lifetimes.

A Counter Guardian knew better than to expect Fate of all things to show mercy or kindness, so he prepared for the usual. And it started as usual.

With him crashing into the living room with an almost thunderous explosion.

Same house, same spot, same manner of unfortunately being tossed just a few meters off from her intended target. Looking at the grandfather clock that survived his untimely arrival, it was indeed ticking an hour too early. The man sighed, knowing full well her miscalculation cost her a living room and fully expected to be the one reprimanded for it. It was fortunate the only thing that broke during the landing was the furniture. But…

'Dammit… was it always this dusty?' He coughed a bit, feeling a little miffed that girl couldn't keep her house entirely spotless despite being a talented magus. Then again, she mostly defaulted on him to take care of that back in his day so it wasn't unexpected…

What was unexpected was the amount of dust in the place. Regardless, he made himself comfortable in a throne of broken fixtures as footsteps of multiple people and shouting rushed towards the room he was… Wait. Multiple—?!

"Rin! What was that?!" the female voice he never heard shouted from the other room. This one wasn't the young and fiery voice of ambitious magi. It was older, softer even.

'Strange. I didn't remember her having any guests.' Did Fate actually throw him a curveball and presented a timeline wherein she had allies before the war started? Maybe his luck wouldn't be so bad this time around—

"Everything is fine, mother! I swear! Me and Luvia were just trying a new method of magecraft!"

The voice he would recognize said quickly, obviously already prepared to tell this lie. However, despite hearing the same old Rin, the silver-haired man could only freeze once he heard two particular words that shouldn't have come from her. Especially during this set of circumstances.

''Mother?' 'Luvia?' What in the damned Root is going on?!'

Unnerving panic took hold of the nameless hero who by this point was already feeling out of place as a horrific realization crossed his face.

Something wrong went on in this timeline. Something way, way wrong and unexpected.

He knew it wasn't right. The room and everything in it felt familiar, but not. Too much dust, like this place hadn't been lived in for years. But the fact that she had a 'mother' of all things wound his nerves even tighter. It was so outside the realm of possibility for someone supposed to be dead to be alive! And for Rin to be working with Luvia in magecraft of all people…

A shiver crawled down the man's spine. One that had him unable to analyze his predicament and caught flatfooted when the door was suddenly kicked open and in stepped one of the causes for his myriad of concerns.

Busty, blonde, ringlets with the face of an ambitious she-fox.

"I found our good-for-nothing assistant, Rin! He ruined the furniture!" The always loud and proud heir of the Edelfelt household spoke Rin's name with such familiarity that he almost did a double take as she looked him over. She let out a low whistle, pleasantly surprised, and seemingly pleased, by what she saw. "Well, at least the one you summoned looks decent for being the Servant of some lowly—OOF!"

"Out of the way, pinhead!" She was tossed aside by a shoulder shove. Replacing Luvia in observing his dumbstruck expression was the familiar scowl of his Master's aqua eyes. "And you! Why in the world did you fall through the floor!"

Well… He was glad to see something familiar. At least her temper didn't change. That was something that calmed his mind and gave him a moment to breathe in. Good old prickly Rin. A handful, but a warm sight for sore eyes.

Still didn't settle down his sour summoning sickness though.

"My current state is only thanks to my summoner and clear proof of their inexperience with how the ritual works." He put his leg over his right one, giving off an aura of cockiness that masked his uncertainty. "I take it that you are the one called for me, right?"

"That's right! I'm your Master and—wait, and what the hell do you mean by inexperience!?" Rin who looked proud for a moment quickly shot him a nasty glare. It was easy to throw suspicion away from him when she was this easy to distract, but he knew he had to do better. He couldn't let her wise up to his real intentions, even if he still planned to help her win. Thankfully, or unexpectedly, someone else was around to push Rin's buttons enough to keep her distracted from his growing anxiety.

"He means that you are a bad Master. Nothing too unexpected, as we all knew it." Luvia taunted as she walked back up to stand next to her frenemy, ever the one with snappy comebacks. "Even your summoned Servant can clearly see that you are a mediocre magus, Rin. Perhaps I would be a more suitable Master—AGH!"

"And yet I'm the one who has the Command Seals on her hand, not you, you drill-haired gorilla," Rin smirked as she shoved her palm glowing with the familiar red marks on the blonde's face.

"We can always fight over these seals, and see who is better suited for the role of Master," Luvia spoke, smiling without any hint of humour. "That is, unless you feel you're too inferior to stand your ground, then I'd graciously let you lick my boots when you surrender it to me—NGH!

Rin didn't draw back or hesitate, no. She planted her forehead against Luvia's with such gusto, their lone observer suspected someone had bitten their tongue. As neither of them stopped gritting their teeth, he assumed both of them did but their pride demanded they endure it.

"If your aristocratic ass wants to get beaten then I'm always down to humble you."

"Like you humbled yourself during our last spar? I'd gladly help you kiss the floor again. Though with how short you are, I doubt you need help with that!"

"You're the one who's going to get drilled into the concrete, ringlet witch!"

The cheeky rivalry with Luvia Edelfelt was alive and well in this timeline, It seems.

He knew from his old life that these two couldn't have tea without pouring the pot over the other's head, but this… this contention went above and beyond that.

'They hadn't been this close to start wrestling in front of some 'stranger' before.' This was getting out of hand. He always liked to tease and annoy his old Master, but as her 'new' Servant, this was just unbecoming if not downright outlandish to deal with this after his unusual summoning.

Not to mention, Luvia wasn't the only difference he had to deal with in the house.

"Master, I care not to comment on your relationship between you and your friend, but I'm sure whatever kind of foreplay you two are doing can wait for later. We wouldn't want to alert the other person unaware of my presence, no?"

He spoke with a cadence of polite respect while stating something strange enough to have them both blushing. As expected, it did have the desired effect of snapping them out of it, though seeing Rin blush hard enough to be distracted, slip backwards and let Luvia fall on her wasn't part of the plan.

Rin looked outright fuming but kept her embarrassment down, even as she struggled with Luvia's weight on her. Specifically, the well-toned blonde's chest smothering the smaller brunette's face.

"Worry not, Mister Familiar. Mrs. Tohsaka shouldn't be able to hear us here. I'd already put up a barrier that nullifies any noise coming out of this room." Luvia on the other hand didn't let his remark faze her as she calmly stated with a haughty smirk demanding praise. "I know better than to worry my dear caretaker. Sadly, the same cannot be said for her deplorable daughter—Ouch!"

Rin, pinching Luvia's side, managed to slip out from under her unamused. "Well excuse me! I did it for the room where he was supposed to be summoned in."

"And yet you fail to consider contingencies as always. It's not my fault you neglect even the simplest of protocols that I have to step in for you!"

"So you admit to having one something. What could've gone wrong other than you messing around with my calculations again—?"

"Ladies, please." He didn't intend to raise his tone, but he needed them to stop.

"Mother is already used to something going wrong half of the time we experiment with our magecraft." Rin dusted herself off, schooling her features and retaking control of the situation. "As long as we don't cause something as big as another fire, she won't bat an eye. Usually… So just as long as she doesn't catch you in your physical form, we can smooth this over as just another little 'accident' of mine and Luvia's… tomfoolery. Understood?" She hated to admit it but to her solemnity, he gave a nod. "Good. By the way—"

Now that she had a moment, Rin took a couple of seconds to look at him from top to bottom. While he didn't much appreciate Luvia's predatory gaze, he knew well enough what Rin's analytical stare was for.

"Where is your sword? No, shut up, Luvia. Don't even try." Rin shut her blonde companion down with a snap before she could say something inappropriate. Eyes on him, Rin's brow furrowed nervously. "You… You are Saber, right? I won't settle for anything but the strongest class, you know."

'Nice to know that this part of her didn't change either.' He smirked slightly as he crossed his arms. "Then you will be happy to know that I'm never one to run out of swords, Master. However, what you see before you is not a master of any single blade. As an Archer who uses multitudes of swords as arrows, would it not make me better than any Saber?"

Despite the fact that this timeline wasn't anything he experienced before from the mere presence of people who shouldn't be here, Archer couldn't but feel nostalgic and comfortable with seeing Rin get progressively irked by this revelation to the point of hiding her face in her palms.

He did feel a little nervous when a certain someone dared poke said Rin with a metaphorical stick.

"Ha! I knew you would fail this ritual one way or another, but you outperformed yourself, Rin! First, your Servant fell through the floor and now he claims to be of a different class." Luvia took much joy pinching the brunette who was hiding her embarrassment on the cheek. "Still, he doesn't look weak or give such an aura. Not to mention, if what he said is true, hmm. Perhaps we won't need a Saber with a versatile Archer."

"Arghh! Whatever! I try and fail at the last second, but I'm not gonna give up so easily!" Rin, slapping Luvia's hand away, marched up to Archer and poked his chest. Fuming as she might be, it didn't change the admirable glint in her eyes. "If you are as strong as you claim then prove it, Archer! I will hold you to your oath in bringing us victory in the Holy Grail War! Defeat our enemies. And above everything else, don't let anyone kill me or my mother."

"And me as well, obviously."

Luvia added dryly but Rin ignored her if only to glare into his silver-grey eyes.

"Huh, you are actually green behind your ears, aren't you, Master? Demanding your freshly summoned Servant to do something like this without using a Command Seal? You don't know if I can or will live up to your demand."

"Then, if that's what you want, Archer, I'll—"

"However," He didn't let her finish. In fact, he brushed away the hand marked with the Seals before she could do something stupid. Considering the circumstances, he'd need her to have all of them just to be safe. "If it means I can show you just how strong I am and make you regret ever doubting me, then perhaps I can exert some effort to do just that. And maybe a little more on top."

Despite Archer's attempt to play off the situation in an easy-going manner, he was serious. The fact Rin would've used the Seal alone cemented the fact that she cared for her mother very much. Almost desperately so.

It wasn't the first time she had asked him something like this with such a tone. But the last time, it was for the sake of someone else. Someone she still considered family despite not sharing a name. She didn't need to do much to get him to obey this command.

Hate himself as much as he wants, he was a hero after all. And even if he knew that he could not guarantee the safety of anyone, as Archer, as the hero EMIYA, he would do his best to attempt and avoid another tragedy.

The nameless and otherwise unassuming Heroic Spirit Archer didn't know the full extent of changes this timeline had or why they happened in the first place. However, it wouldn't deter him.

There was a girl he needed to save from her grandfather and the grail.

There was another he needed to rescue from her lonely castle.

The one in front of him, he needed to save from herself.

And there was the idiot that started it all he needed to prevent getting out of this with dreams of grandeur.

Whether it was to kill monsters and slay demons, or off the few to save the many, it didn't change the fact that he was a hero.

He who'd seen and lived through every route possible experienced the many ways things fate could play out, was not gonna be deterred by this curveball of a timeline. He just needed to do his old job and accomplish his goal.

Save those he can. Kill those he needs to. Simple as that.


Fuyuki, Homurahara Academy Rooftop

Sadly, things weren't so simple, no.

'No matter how much I learn about this timeline, it keeps surprising me in the worst ways possible!'

Such was the thought when he once again crossed blades with a woman who wore a familiar-looking face with a far steelier expression while stabbing at his vitals with no hint of fairness or chivalry. Just the cold-hearted aim of putting him down.

Assassin held nothing back and went for his neck. Unlike his former sword-trainer, the girl looked calm. Unlike the spandex-wearing battle-mongering spearman, Assassin bore the cadence of a killer whose aim was just that, his death.

"Kuh!" he gritted his teeth, parrying another swipe of the katana that tried to gouge out his eyes.

She fought serenely, gracefully, even as she exuded enough killing intent to give the average mook a heart attack. At least the noisy hound of Chulainn had enough battle lust to drag out their encounter. Assassin though, she was keen on exploiting her glaring advantage over him through her weapon mastery and speed.

She was fast like a ninja, clearly faster than the other timeline's swallow killer. But while she had speed, she lacked the great strength Sasaki and Cu could bring to bear. He faced less of a warrior and more a blade master, hence being pushed back but not entirely overwhelming his defences, thankfully.

Still, her presence was an anomaly. Her silence was unnerving. The stoic expression she bore while cloaked in the colours of the Shinsengumi was similar but not the same as the great King of Knights who he admired. She didn't even fight for fun or competition. She was just here to kill.

He didn't want to admit it, but Archer kind of missed the blue-clad, red-spear toting Irishman. 'Fighting that loudmouth at least felt like a sport!'

He grits his teeth as he pushed his Mind's Eye to counter Assassin's speed. She was jumping from one position to another, teal and white haori sleeves billowing in the wind. Her traction was forcing Archer to quickly turn to his sides and parry almost blindly as she didn't waste time in her attempts to skewer him over and over again. She was swift to use every window of opportunity he tried to bait her yet even faster to counter feint his traps before he could catch her. She didn't manage to touch him so far. For that, Archer felt proud to be able to keep up. But… he knew that he couldn't keep this up for long.

Lancer was a familiar foe. He could match the guy so long as he only fought to entertain the dumbass' battle boner. Assassin was here to kill. And he can't even catch her off guard.

Despite being of the class ill-suited for head-on combat, this Assassin was able to duel him with ease. Granted, he wasn't the orthodox Archer either, but he couldn't risk just throwing the whole armoury at her when there was a risk she could escape and inform her Master about him.

What if she was an alternate Assassin Medea summoned instead of Sasaki? That was a possibility, right? He couldn't risk the Witch of Colchis getting wise to his capabilities until Heracles was dealt with.

Then again, could he even run under the assumption that Caster and Berserker were the same? Not at all. He still couldn't risk it though. Not when more things were at stake, like the survival of Rin's mother and maybe-friend now that they're in close proximity to the war.

God, things were so much easier when they weren't.

"You're distracted!" The girl's soft voice tickled his ears from behind as he caught a glimpse of sakura-colored petals flowing in the breeze, alongside the glint of steel.

He threw Bakuya in between himself and the katana, the cross-guard taking the full brunt of it and shattering the moon-white blade before he threw Kanshou in Assassin's face. The swordswoman leapt back, not expecting a thrown sword but deflected it skyward.

"You would discard a weapon in the face of your killer?" the girl tilted her head, katana at the ready but not pushing her advantage over an unarmed opponent. "If you weren't a fellow Heroic Spirit, I'd consider that act unwise. What are you up to?"

She was suspicious. That at least told him she wasn't stupid enough to fall for his tricks like certain others. A shame. He didn't hesitate to summon another copy of his married blades and throw two pairs her way.

Eyes widening a bit, she expertly parried all four swords out of the way and came straight at his face as he summoned a third pair to lock blades with her. It was only because he held her still that she couldn't gut him where he stood, but being able to pressure her in place should be good enough.

"You're good." Archer held his ground, ensuring Assassin couldn't escape as he made banter. "As expected of the great Okita Souji."

She narrowed her gaze but didn't flinch as she went for a kick at his shin and tried severing his neck twice when he retreated. It's a good thing he had two swords, otherwise, he wouldn't be able to defend and blade lock her again. His comment did pique her curiosity, though.

"You know of me? Have we met in life, warrior?"

"Not that I'm aware of." He shoved her back under his guard, forcing her to retreat and throwing both of his blades on either side of her. She deflected both copies of the sword into the floor with a double parry but had to swiftly avoid him when Archer charged at her with more copies of the married blades. She chose to somersault over and even managed to get a slice across his back but only a shallow one. "Dammit, you're slippery!"

"A swordsman who lets themselves be rooted to the ground is nought but an amateur!" She came down, cutting a gash between his shoulder and neck, prevented by his recklessly swinging his swords in the way. Neither of his blades was safe from the impact though, chipped and cracking but holding the katana back from completely eviscerating his neck off. "You may be able to endlessly summon your weapons, but someone lacking the spirit to fight with their all will never be able to keep up with my blade."

Archer smirked, enduring the momentary agony of being nearly beheaded for the opening he wanted. "Then let's see you keep up with my fighting spirit, samurai!"

Exerting himself, he summoned the discarded blades she deflected earlier. What had been cast aside came back with a vengeance as the wind whistled overhead. Six swords of identical make to the one keeping him alive all whirled like razors of death for Assassin's back. She had the temerity to dodge them one by one, somersaulting mid-air and dancing in the breeze to avoid them all, only having to clip and shred the tips of her black scarf, but she didn't escape unscathed.

In the moment she fled and unburdened her blade from his neck, Archer pushed his mana into the chipped swords he used to defend. The twin falchion blades emanated with power, shattering and remoulding as their lengths grew with vicious sharpness. He had to stifle the blood escaping his lips as he swung a full circle around, bringing the newly formed longswords to bear at his fleeing foe.

"Overedge!" The swords exploded in length, reaching further past and catching Assassin by surprise as it swatted at her.

"Ngh!" Okita Souji was many things, but being able to fight in the air without a foothold was not one of them. She made to block his attack, but the weight of the two elongated swords bursting with mana forced her down into the ground on her back. Not letting up, he let them shatter into motes of light and lunged with a pair of newly summoned short swords.

"You little—Guh!" she managed to block his follow-up strikes but was still reeling from the impact. She was able to block once but unable to avoid the cut that clipped her side down to her right leg. as she fell back further away to the far end of the rooftop. Archer didn't follow, having exerted himself a little too much in that instant.

She was right. He wouldn't be able to kill her with his fighting spirit. He wasn't even fully intending to go for the kill. But he did score a hit.

Assassin didn't take her eyes off him, but both could see that neither escaped this clash without injury. His neck and shoulders were in agony, but he could endure it a little longer. Not too long though. She was fast and able to hold her sword, but he did clip her leg. Mobility was going to be her problem.

"So… Still itching for a fight?" he broke the awkward silence.

"At the moment, not as much as earlier." Assassin stood firm, letting her leg bleed out a bit so as to not compromise her guarded stance. "But… I was ordered to kill you."

"If you want to continue, fine by me. I was just enjoying the view until a certain someone decided to barge in and go for my head."

"Not my proudest moment, I'll admit." She nodded, a little playfully at that. "But it was an order by my Master, the stranger. Until she rescinds it, you're my target to be slain." Her blade shifted to a ready stance. "No hard feelings."

"None from my end." Archer matched her poise. Injured as they were, neither was willing to give the other an opening.

Though, Archer ruminated just how bad his luck was this time around. Not only was he severely on the back foot, what info he could glean from his foe aside from her True Name and fighting style was not worth being crippled over for.

Knowing Assassin's Master was a 'she' hardly narrowed the candidates down. For all he knew, it could be Illya or even Taiga for that matter. Not that he'd ever suspect them without evidence, but the lack of any recognizable ones left him flying blind.

And for someone who relied on precognition, seeing through his foe's disguises, and looking up their weaknesses through a magical cheat sheet just to get by, this was definitely a shitshow. Forget escaping unscathed, he could end up losing before the halfway point. And wouldn't that set him back another Grail War.

He inwardly growled that failure here could mean failing to keep Rin's better life intact. Just the thought of damning what should've been a dead woman in another timeline still made him sick to his stomach.

'It couldn't have been a simple butterfly effect to throw me an Assassin while keeping someone who should've died alive. A change this big is too drastic…' It wasn't just the people. Rin already gave him the summary of the last war and even that left many questions. Questions about the city, the state of the other clans, and what happened with the Mage Association. So many questions that should not be allowed to distract him in this time of uncertainty. 'Something or someone is behind all of these changes. A new player, perhaps? But who? Is it someone I know? Likely not. Just swapping out Sasaki is already concerning. If Medea didn't anchor the Masterless samurai to the shrine then… was he even there? Dammit. This is tiring.'

"You seem distracted, my foe." Archer snapped out of his thoughts to intercept her swift stab to his neck. He tried to parry and counter-stab with his own, but she managed to slip away from his reach, testing his guard with nary a scratch this time around. "Your draw is swift; I'll give you that."

"I had a great teacher." He said, testing his steps to see how she'd react to his subtle approach.

"Hm. Not someone I'm familiar with, are they?"

"Perhaps not on a personal level. But you might be surprised how much you resemble each other if you were to meet face-to-face."

She narrowed her gaze at that but didn't act out of form. He realized she was trying to stall for time. Or maybe just looking for a chance to kill him and retreat before other Servants caught wind of her injuries. In any case, neither of them were in the position to—

The tapping of footsteps drew his attention as it did hers. Neither flinched to turn to the door leading to the rooftop, but whoever it was, it was clear they weren't a Servant.

But no Master was stupid enough to barge in on a fight. Leaving the only candidate who was often the last student in school at this hour…

'Damn you, you idiot.' The face of one selfless redhead haunted his mind. 'Even if it's not Lancer, you might not get out of this unscathed just for being a witness!'

And the frustrating part was that it was an Assassin who would see the fool in action, meaning even if Archer was able to fight her off now, there was no telling when and how she'd off him on her own time.

'I didn't want to reveal my hand, but if it is him, Rin will have to shoulder sheltering his dumb ass.' He readied to go on the offensive, much to Assassin's surprise.

No matter the world and situation, Emiya Shirou would always throw himself into the fray. And wasn't it ironic that it'd likely be him to both kill and save himself in that scenario?

'Damn this magnificent irony!'


'Those swords… They were magnificent!'

He ran like hell, heading far, faaaaar away from the battlefield, knowing full well he couldn't escape should they notice him but not risking staying and getting caught anyway. Regardless, he couldn't stop internally reeling at what his eye caught upon seeing their swords clash.

The magic, the magnanimity, the make of those weapons… Just the intense mythical energies he gleaned from a momentary glance had Shirou admiring the sheer power behind them. Servants were beyond mere mortals, and two of them fighting each other like that…?

'No, snap out of it! This shouldn't be possible!' Not this early nor this close to him when he wasn't even a participant. Yet they just showed up out of the blue and did battle on the school rooftop. His amazement at their weaponry clouded his mind for a moment, but Shirou knew that despite that, the situation was bad. Really bad. 'Gotta tell dad. Gotta get out of here. Right now!'

His father had forewarned about the next Holy Grail War to come in several decades. That the man saw it fit to prepare him for such an outcome so early on means that the man thought he would need it. And if Kiritsugu ever saw it fit to prepare for something ahead of time, then things were about to get drastic real fast.

'Something is wrong. I have to tell dad and—!'

Then what? Though his feet kicked hallway dust and pushed him to head for the front gate, his mind raced to the morbid possibilities he could assume would come. And the hopelessness had him stop before he even made it out the front door.

What can his old man do in a situation like this? Emiya Kiritsugu had no hope of winning against Servants, he said so himself. Not without his own at least. As for Shirou himself, this was out of his league. Way out. Impossible. He was hardly a spellcaster, let alone a potential magus. Shirou couldn't hope for his father to come from his trip and save him from this bad dream. The only one he could count was—

His head ached as the memory of the fires flashed before his eyes. They were gone a moment later, but the effect was palpable. Seizing up, he balled his fist as he rested it against the nearby pillar.

All he had was… himself.

His heartbeat quickened as the adrenaline pumping through his veins had him looking over his shoulder. In the opposite direction of where he came, down the halls leading to the adjacent building, the stairwell that led up to the intense clash of titans was there, waiting.

He… he can't die here! He… he needed to get out of the school and get home to… to…—

His mind raced, forcing his gaze to the front gate. Just past the shoe lockers was an escape from here. If he could just slip out, then he'd be free from their sights.

But he also knew that, if he could catch a glimpse of those weapons a bit more, he could… he could…

Replicate themAnd find a way to save everyone… Wouldn't that be more helpful than just… fleeing with his tail between his legs?

Shirou didn't have a solid plan running. When in doubt, he was taught to retreat, get home safely to regroup with his father as soon as possible… but… If he could learn something helpful… use his power to trace those weapons… then maybe—!

He instinctively flinched when the air around him started to get heavy. There, standing between Shirou and the exit, a lone figure that wasn't there a second ago, was a man in blue.

In his hand, butt planted on the ground as a razor-sharp tip of a spear seemingly cutting the air itself glowed a wicked crimson.

Bloodred spear emanating an ominous aura wielded by a man in blue with a callous and somewhat bored expression… It didn't take Shirou two seconds to realize he was cornered by something not human. But seeing that it wasn't one of the two from the rooftop, that had all the hairs on his body standing.

'Not just two… but a third…' Sweat dripped down his brow as he cursed his luck through grit teeth.

"Well, well. What do we have here? What're you doing hanging around so late, schoolboy? Truant? Nah… you wouldn't be here if it was the case… Perhaps delinquent?"

Shirou tensed at being addressed. He knew he shouldn't do anything to egg the hunter on when he was a hapless prey. But upon seeing the bloodthirst in the man's eye, he warily drew his gaze to the red spear. Eerily, he could confidently say it felt more alive than many of the things he'd traced or studied before.

'That is definitely dangerous!' If alarm bells could ring in his head, they were on overdrive now. He had to get out of here, but how—?!

"What's wrong kid? Wet yourself or something?" The unknown man—no, the blue-clad Servant said with a playful tone as he kicked his spear and twirled it over his shoulders to relax yet blocked the entryway by his presence alone. "You look like you've seen death. Or maybe it's because you managed to get a peek at two other Servants having a go?" The spearman spoke cockily but also enviously. "Haaah… Speaking of them, I'm pissed that the first fight in this war wasn't mine. Though, I wouldn't mind getting second helpings if I manage to get the first Master kill. A step to winning this thing even if it's just stamping out small fry is still a win for us."

"Wait, you're making a mistake!" When the Servant in blue raised his red spear and pointed it at him, Shirou blurted out whatever to buy time or even get out of this situation. "I'm not a Master!"

"Hoh? Then what are you, brat? If you know about what a Master is, then you should be informed of what I am." The spearman didn't seem to care but entertained him with questions.

"You're a Servant, I can tell… But you're wrong about me. I'm no Master. Just a mere spellcaster! Third-rate magus at best." Shirou told the honest truth, appealing to the bored look in the man's eyes that he wasn't even worth the effort, hoping it would get him some leeway.

This was the phrase his father told him to say if he was ever unfortunate enough to run into magi. Kiritsugu said that there might be magi too arrogant and self-absorbed, deeming unimportant third-rates not worthy of their time. Of course, the probability of escape happening was still less than 1% when many don't even consider leaving witnesses, maybe closer to half that if they decided to make him into 'research material'. But a measly small percentage was better than zero…

Or so he assumed, but this was a SERVANT of all things!

Shirou didn't even attempt to humour the idea of fighting the one before him; it was pointless suicide. Only a real idiot would think he had a chance at—

"Yeah, Master. Kid says he isn't Master but is one of your people?" The Servant in blue stopped for a moment, bringing his spear tip down as he mumbled to someone listening but not present. Shirou realized it was something akin to telepathy magecraft. "Well, if he isn't one of yours, then can I—?"

"I'm a retainer of the Matou clan!" Shirou quickly muttered, not thinking about it properly. Both he and the Servant stared at each other in silence. Though the redhead couldn't believe what he just done, how dangerous as well as foolish it was to implicate his friends, using their name might as well have been his last lifeline.

He could never do something like risk their lives, but… but…

He couldn't die here…. Not like this! Not when he needed to make up for his life and save others. Illya said so.

"Eh… you don't want me to kill him?" It took Shirou a while to realize the Servant was complaining to whoever he was chatting with. "You'd let a witness go just like that? So much for secrecy… I got it, I got it… Feh… No challenge in murdering some kid anyway… Yeah, shut it shortie. I remember what I said. I was just playing around to scare him shitless a little. That he's trembling like a lamb means he'll keep silent," the Servant raised his spear again, almost prodding the chest of Shirou's blazer. "Won't you, kid?"

It took his all not to break out into a run after nodding along. The spearman lowered his lance and Shirou was finally able to gulp some air. He felt his Adam's apple shrivelling as though a knife held it up.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll do the check. Ruin my fun from joining a real fight, why don't you…" Eventually, the Servant took a step away from him, relenting the murderous aura as he muttered dismissal at whoever was chatting to him through their connection. "You're lucky this time, brat. My Master says it isn't the best idea to kill people who belong to other clans. But she also says that I need to make sure you're legit clean. Show me the back of your hands. No seals on it and I let you go. Simple, yeah?"

Shirou allowed himself to breathe in, relaxing for a second. The Servant could be lying, but what was the point? Scaring him shitless even more? He already achieved that. Still, what choice did he have? None.

But… He should be fine. He didn't sense any hostility from the man in blue now. And whatever these 'seals' are, he sure as hell knew he didn't have any. Shirou raised the back of his hands and showed the man what he wanted…—

'Ngh! It… burns?!'

—… and as though the devil himself branded him out of spite, three red glowing marks appeared on his skin out of nowhere.

Shirou stared down at the marks.

The Servant stared at the marks.

The Servant's eyes then rose to Shirou's face.

In his infinitely unfortunate luck, Shirou instinctively flinched at the cocky smile he had on.

The red eyes were drilling holes in him. He was clearly not amused by what he perceived as a lie. Too bad, he didn't seem to be the type one could reason with.

"So, brat…" the spear tip was raised.

"W-wait! They weren't there moments ago—AGH!"

Before Shirou could clear out the situation, he was forcibly lifted off the ground by the grip on his collar. The ominous spear was just centimetres away from his heart.

"I offer three options." The Heroic Spirit unilaterally stated, no more joviality in his eyes. "First choice, order your Servant to kill themselves. Second, get your arm removed by me. Don't worry. I'll lop it off quickly. Or third, get skewered like a fish out of water. It's more painful, but I guarantee a sure death no matter where I stab. Which do you prefer?"

His amber eyes didn't falter, but Shirou knew he was deathly afraid. "I… I—!"

"I was joking, brat. You don't really get a choice in the matter. I'm just waiting for my Master to pick how I deal with you—…" He grimaced after flinching, as though someone was yelling at him through telepathy. "Hush it, shortie! I'm not bringing the kid to base." The man irritably scowled. "No, I don't care what you have in mind. He either dies now or forces his Servants to off themselves. But, he can always summon his Servant. I'm really itching for a fight after almost being played the fool…"

Shirou was definitively cursing his circumstances. Had he not hesitated, he might've escaped and avoided this entirely… but… he only had himself to blame.

In any case, the Servant kept mumbling to himself, egging his Master to force Shirou to summon a Servant, not that he had any, while a third person protested much to the man in blue's annoyance. Whoever they were on the other end, it was clear they wanted to avoid needless bloodshed. But the mark on the back of his hands sealed his fate, even if it was by stupid luck they appeared like this. Fate really didn't seem to want to throw him a bone.

Or perhaps it did as, not a second too soon, a thud in the distance drew not just Shirou's but the Servant's attention as well.

There, beyond the school gate, something big made its presence known. A giant silhouette, larger than any human Shirou had ever seen, lumbered through the entryway. Well, saying that was discourteous to the aftermath. The giant just walked past the gate, but his sheer mass crushed the metal grills like they were made of paper mâché underfoot.

"GAH!" he was discarded and thrown against the lockers as the Servant in blue stepped towards the newcomer.

"Stay there, brat. I'll deal with you after I'm done with that one." He gave Shirou a glance and the boy swore he saw the man's eagerness to fight amidst the threatening smirk. "I'm serious, kid. If you make more trouble for me by making me chase you down, I will hunt you like a hare."

He then leapt out of the front door as fast as the wind, crimson lance clashing against the giant slab of stone the giant wielded like a sword. It didn't take much for Shirou to realize that the giant was also a Heroic Spirit. Especially when it was holding its own against the swift spearman. But other than giving their weapons one more passing glance, there was no hesitation in what Shirou did next.

He booked it out of there like the world would end if he didn't make it home.

If the spearman was gonna hound him later, then might as well get a head start. If that giant of a man was to be his distraction, then by whatever god was out there, Shirou would not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Upon exiting out the backdoor, he ran behind the gym and leapt over the low part of the wall many truants Issei complained about used to cut class. He ran, far away from the battleground that was his school even as he felt his muscles burn and bones creak.

If he wanted to live for the sake of others, he had only one option: to survive this war. And by fate, he'd make sure to survive the night at least!

Yet, unbeknownst to him, far away from the battlefield that was the academy campus, a masked individual stood atop one of the skyscrapers, silently watching the first embers of the Grail War ignite.

Dark, almost empty, eyeholes of said black mask trained in the direction of where several Servants had unceremoniously gathered, of which four were currently engaged in combat.


"Our surveillance drones have picked up a newcomer. A giant human male, or so we assume it to be, has engaged the blue spearman wielding a red spear. From what we can tell, it seems the giant was attracted to the battle zone but remained an observer until the one we suspect is Lancer initiated combat."

'So it begins…' Zero sat back as the report came in. He observed the screens as the intelligence officer briefing him manipulated the images of their new targets. A mountain of a man with a blade seemingly ripped out of stone and a fleet-footed spearman zipping so fast around the giant, the cameras were having difficulty getting a good image of him. Thankfully, there was a clean one when the supposed Lancer's stab was intercepted by the giant's bare skin. Skin that was seemingly run through but otherwise ignored by the behemoth. "Hmm… Any hints to their identity so far?"

"Our specialists are trying to find clues on the giant, but so far our list of candidates are still too varied." The intelligence officer's subordinate offered a response before handing Zero a dossier. "Just the number of potential Heroic Spirits listed as 'larger than life' number in the hundreds alone, Master Zero. Narrowing it down will require more time."

Lelouch didn't bother scolding the man or the lead officer. Though they remain nervous and timid, Zero knew full well that these subordinates of his were still the same fallible human beings they were before being recruited to his cause.

"Continue searching for their identities. I'll give you twenty-four hours to come up with a list of their top ten most likely historical counterparts. You're dismissed. Lieutenant, please stay behind."

"Sir, yes, sir!" The officer and his subordinate both saluted but it was the latter who took his quick leave first. While he could sympathize with being told to stay behind by a commanding officer, the man he ordered to have a private chat with need not be so nervous.

Clad in top quality gear to rival and perhaps even supersede the best military officer corps of this era, the man stood in attention was wasting the intimidating visage a red visor and sleek uniform gave him by nervously sweating.

Then again, it was likely because he was wearing such a thick coat. As his dear wife said 'rule of cool', was meant to be their army's go-to, second only to 'secrecy' and third to 'absolute victory'. That being said, Lelouch mentally debated whether he should've left Nobu full reign to design the gaudy outfit for their secret army. Not that they could do much wearing said outfit when grunt work still revolved around secrecy until they could enact total and instant world domination.

Well… whatever the case, he didn't voice any complaints so long as he could secure every condition to victory before allowing his wife to go all out. It was tiring, being a husband to a warmonger, being a corporate leader, and also secretly a lead designer for machines of war, but what can he do when it was all for the one goal he had in mind. Speaking of his Knightmares…

"Command Type Akatsuki, P1. Do you read me?" he spoke aloud but got a quick and instantaneous reply via telepathy as his pawn responded to his command. Smiling that its response time was faster than ever, he gave the simple order for it to stand by.

As it stands, P1 was not needed for direct combat at the moment. But it was armed with a giant six-tube missile launcher, aimed at the general direction of the fight. Its rockets were unlikely to kill any Servants worth their salt, but its payload was enough to interfere with whatever projectile the Servants might send flying in its direction should they notice his gaze on them through the machine. The anti-magic chaff within the missile should be capable enough to handle a simple spell or arrow from an Archer Servant. The test against Faker back in London proved that such an arsenal is capable of damaging magical forms. Even if the bullet versions could only weaken and disturb, not entirely negate or drain a Servant's mana supply.

"Continue your report." He returned his attention to the man standing by. "Of the four currently engaged, the pair on the rooftop had been ranked lower in terms of danger levels. Explain."

"Sir. The drones detected the pair first. From what we can glean from their appearance, one of them appears to be a Saber Servant. The one with the katana, to be exact. As for her current opponent armed with two blades, we suspect he might be an Assassin Servant. Presently, we could assume that Lancer is engaged with what could be Berserker, but until we get more data as to how the giant fights, Assassin, Lancer, and Saber are the only two we have a clearer read on based on weaponry alone."

"That may be the case, but until we have full confirmation on their identities and capabilities, rule them as tentative labels except for Lancer." Lelouch waved his hand to the aid and the man handed him the remote to change the screen. Changing the slides, he switched it to the overhead image of a silver-haired man engaging a blonde samurai in battle, both images being the most unclear in regards to the speed of their engagement. "Even if they wield a sword, it does not mean they are entirely a Saber. The same can be said for Assassin if that really is his class. Keep an eye on them and track their movements should the drones pick them up. Even if they flee the battlefield and enter spirit form, use every single security and traffic camera we installed through Sumeragi Industries to plot their traces until we can track down and profile their Masters."

"Understood, Master Zero." The man saluted.

"One more thing, Lieutenant." But before he was dismissed, Lelouch stood and faced the man with the sternness of a real commander. "Once you've profiled the Servants and their Masters, I demand you contact me about it immediately through our most secure channels. Should your investigations bear fruit while my wife and I are acting independently, I will deal with the matter in the way I see fit."

"It will be done, milord!" the pawn wholeheartedly saluted before leaving swiftly. Cowed as he was by the mask of Zero, he was at least loyal enough to do his best on his job.

Lelouch made sure that he fostered a loyal following amongst his secret staff and spies.

The decade wasn't spent on nothing. Now, a pair of incarnated Servant-class beings possessed a powerful and clandestine army filled with personnel devoted to their cause. While world domination seemed morbid and eccentric to many, he and Nobu spent ten years ingraining into them what a future under their rule could do. And he was right to take his time.

In the long time of preparation, they succeeded in forming a secret society of pawns far more capable than the Black Knights and even his Geass-enslaved sleeper agents of Britannia could ever be. And he hardly had to use his powers as a Demi-Servant to do so. Why, the world was very much partly under his control already. His faction was devoted completely to him and Nobunaga could handle anything the mundane and moonlit world could throw at them.

'Well, almost anything.'

Leaving the office, Lelouch made his way to the rooftop. One of many skyscrapers the Sumeragi Industries controlled had a great vantage point over the whole city of Fuyuki and its adjacent Miyama. Turning to the direction of the school, he tapped the controls for his mask, enabling the built-in screen to connect to one of the many spy drones flying overhead.

The surveillance network, codenamed the 'Eyes of Zero' by his subordinates, was a masterful mix of technological innovation and magecraft enhancements. Pulling from the tech advancements of his investment in the Confederation contributed and a large number of magi talents that either defected or had their work confiscated by his counter organization to the Clock Tower, the birth of a specialized surveillance system was inevitable. From mapping the full view of an entire city's infrastructure to zooming into and picking out a specific ant above ground, many would say he had the most all-seeing spy network that lacked the need to launch an actual rocket to space. Though that was an overstatement, its capability to observe what he wanted to in detail without being spotted in return was, as a side project, a boon. It yielded the wonderful means of tracking any and every enemy not scurrying away underground.

Even now, he used it to observe the exchange between the suspected Lancer and the behemoth of a giant.

'Strange.' That the mountain man held his ground but did not attack back, only warding the spearman off, had Lelouch suspicious and muttering aloud. "For what reason would a giant like that choose to announce their presence but not actively beat back their attackers? A foolish Master… likely not. Then… are they acting as bait?"

"Overthinking again, Lulu?" Appearing from behind him, a sultry redhead looped her arm around his neck as she leaned her ample bosom against his back. Unmasking himself, Lelouch leaned into her hug and let her see the mini-display in the interior of his black helmet. She studied it for a good second before humming. "Hmmm. Looks like a capable fighter, that giant. Though, playing only defence against a fast one like blue spandex there makes him out to be a bore."

"What do you make of them, Nobu?"

The Demon King fell quiet as she watched the battle play out on the screen before her. After a moment, she huffed. "I could take 'em."

"There is no doubt in my mind you could, darling." Lelouch playfully pinched her cheeks before turning his gaze back to the screen on his helmet and leaning against the nearest railing. "I was asking what you would make of their class, considering their fighting style."

"Lancer doesn't seem like the type to hide anything. Judging by how he's engaging that muscle mountain, his fighting style is too forward. He craves battle almost as much as I do." Lelouch took note of that and would forward the analysis to his intelligence officers later. "As for the ugly titan… Seems to me that someone could be using Command Seals to suppress a Berserker's innate desire for wanton carnage." Nobunaga leaned against him, taking her place shoulder-to-shoulder with him. "If that defensive wall of meat is managing to hold off the relentless stabs of a Noble Phantasm lance is truly a suppressed Berserker, that is. He could be a bulky Saber for all we know."

"That and the two others who bear swords as well. So many blades, yet so very few options in terms of class." Lelouch chuckled as he bumped his knee against Nobu's, pushing up against her katana's own scabbard. "Truly, the Saber class is filled with sword masters. We even have a samurai that looks almost like our last war's Saber."

"Oh? Is the prissy knight back once more? We never did manage to finish the score."

"A shame, but no. This one seems to be a different Servant entirely. Appearance-wise, it's close to Artoria. But the fact she wields a katana and not a wind-coated Excalibur leads me to think that they share only a youthful face. Nothing more."

Nobu deflated at that, sad that her chances of a rematch would be dashed. "Tch. Well, maybe I'll just slice up her face when it's my turn to put her down. Just for putting my hopes up."

It was Lelouch's turn to pull his pouty darling of a wife in an embrace that had her calming down in his chest almost immediately. "You'll have your chance. Just relax for the meantime." She did. In fact, she started cuddling up against his neck, slowly yet audibly inhaling his scent as she spoiled herself in the head pats he gave her. "Still… for that Berserker to come but just stand around… Whoever their Master is must be planning something."

"They definitely are. I can tell from a glance, that thing is a real warrior. He's just holding back." True to her word, as Lelouch studied the fight between Lancer and Berserker at a distance, the latter was still keeping the spearman at bay. Not once having moved from his spot, but also leaving gouged earth around his wake due to swinging a stone slab of a sword to parry and swipe away Lancer's attacks. "Same for that blue spandex idiot. He may be poking and prodding, but he isn't really going for a real fight. It's like both sides' Masters just want to test the other, but…"

"But neither achieve much by holding back to the point of stalemate… hm. You believe it could have something to do with the pair that was already present on the rooftop?" Lelouch took it as food for thought as he asked. Having been the one to inform Nobu about the clashing sword-wielders as soon as his surveillance network detected a spike in mana levels in the area, and also being a far more experienced Servant than he, Nobu had been eyeing their fight from a distance, feeling out the flow of combat and bloodlust by simply observing the fight through the lens of an experienced warrior herself.

"Who knows… Berserker could've been sent to observe. Lancer might've hopped in to make it a three-way battle royale before he was distracted." Her sadistic smirk was accompanied by the licking of her lips. "It's definitely what I would have done, hehe~…"

And it definitely would force him to change his plans had she opted to engage on sight instead of wait for a bit. Thankfully, bloodthirsty and battle-hungry she may be, Nobu wasn't an idiot and waited for him to decide on their next action. Still, returning to what the cameras picked up before the spike in mana energies signalling the presence of multiple Servants, Lelouch hummed at the notable pictures he cycled through.

"Hm? Found something of note, love?"

"I have. Some of the cameras have sights on bystanders who have seemingly noticed the noise of combat. Though, judging by the read of the area's energy levels, someone is interfering by placing a ward to distract non-magi." He slowly broke away from the hug and kissed Nobu on the forehead before taking a seat nearby. Nobu slumped by his side, content at just resting her head on his shoulder as he continued to observe the data the spy drones were sending him. "Seems like we have a reasonable Master keeping a close watch on the situation if they're going so far as to keep the normal folk out of harm's way."

"Heh. How kind of them. A shame they won't gallantly show themselves too. I could've cut down the number of hassles on the first night of the war."

Indeed, it was a missed opportunity. But if there was ever a foe just that willing to do his job for him, they weren't worth the effort. Lelouch contemplated deploying his secrecy committee in charge of securing the area so no non-magi folk would be caught up in it, but if his foes were this considerate enough to ensure the safety of the populace, perhaps just letting the committee issue an announcement to the city council that a gas leak was reported near Homurahara Academy's area would be enough.

All the cops and politicians that were part of their secret web would take the steps necessary to cover it up without his input, leaving him free to do as he pleased.

"Four Servants oddly present at a school. One of which, I have a suspicion of who could be the Master."

Nobu perked up at that. "Already? Which one?"

"Our little white-haired princess." He cycled through the images and showed the one where the girl was spotted by the cameras entering the woods close to the gate, apparent that one of those present is hers, likely Berserker or Lancer. It was intriguing, but he won't intervene or question it for now. "As for our guests from the Clock Tower, the one accompanying the Church's pawn should still be in Fuyuki though very far from the fight as they're located across town. Still, the identity of their Servant, if they summoned any, is in question. Safe to say that the one we met in London still hasn't made their presence known."

"That chariot-riding bitch, huh? Hiding like roaches, the lot of them…" Nobu grumbled but did little else but sigh at the lack of action. He couldn't fault her as he was well aware of her want for a good fight.

With the awareness of three Master candidates and sights on four of the seven total Servants called to this war, they could very well be on the way to eliminating half the competition if he sent Nobu at them right now… That is, if they didn't band together to take her out first.

Best to stay back and watch. They had all the cards in hand and all the time to play them.

"Hey, I'm bored. Wanna make a bet?" After a good while of just sitting on the rooftop and watching the fight occurring in the distance, Nobu chimed in. "Watching these noobs get it on is making me jealous, but since we're not gonna take a crack at them until later, how about a quick bet? My money is on the pink-haired one with a katana."

"Gambling, are we? I was sure that was my hobby." Lelouch was surprised by the sudden suggestion, but he had a good idea of where his wife was leading him on with this idea.

"Hush it, Lelouch. I'm so bored and you won't get down on me so at least let me have some entertainment."

"So you say, but you didn't ask me to get down on you yet." Lelouch laughed softly until he realized his mistake and had to shush Nobu from demanding it outright this very instant. Her lips pressing on his finger pursed with a cheeky smirk as she was about to do something he might regret until he followed it up. "Stop. And don't lick my finger. Very well. The usual bet."

"The loser gets the same punishment as usual. Chained to the bed until morning, got it?"

She smiled ferally as she said it with an innocent tone. Zero just rolled his eyes, not even shaken by the lewd promise. A decade of being married to each other was enough to kill a huge part of the shame both of them had. He wouldn't admit that the gap of attitudes was charming as it was seemingly deranged.

"Ok, in that case, I bet that the white-haired one pushes her back. Satisfactory? Or do you want to up the ante and make specific bets to spice up the deal?"

Avenger hungrily smirked. "You're on. Let's see if you can outmatch me in reading a battle down to a samurai's sword stroke, love."

No, he couldn't. But he'd likely be able to lead her long enough to ensure he escaped the worst of her bets.


Shirou kept running. Though already far from the school district and nearing his neighbourhood, he didn't stop moving his aching legs.

He'd given them the slip, or so he wanted to believe. Having ducked through alleyways, ditches, and even threw a river sewer drain that was under construction, he was certain he'd given any human pursuer the slip.

He wasn't scot-free, however. Not until he was back in his father's shed.

Shirou could never outrun a Servant if they gave chase, that much was true. He couldn't defend against them if they attacked, even at home. That was irrefutably true.

Then, what was he to do if one actually chased and hunted him down?

… … … He didn't know. Teeth grit, he has to admit that he's way in over his head to think he could survive an encounter. It was by his sheer dumb luck that the blue guy with a spear didn't hound after him, instead choosing to stay with the… the… well, Shirou didn't know what that giant muscled thing was! It didn't feel human—Hell, not even the spear that guy wielded felt normal. Not with how much power just sort of emanated from their being.

That and just looking at the slab of stone it used as a weapon was enough to give Shirou a slight migraine.

'Didn't think I'd get to scan so many magical weapons in one day…' A pain lanced through his legs and back, strained from running and tumbling all the way home from school. Didn't help the thumping in his head either. He had too much to process and too little time to do so. 'Dammit… what do I do now?'

He had no clue. Normally, getting advice from the old man was his go-to when confronting magic stuff he didn't understand. But that wasn't an option. Kiritsugu wasn't due to come back yet.

Meaning he was alone. Helpless and alone. With a Grail War occurring around him, no less.

Everyone was in danger. Forget him for a second. Shinji and Sakura… his neighbours and classmates… everyone… Everyone in Fuyuki…

They were in danger.

Memories of the fire long ago resurfaced in his head. The heat, the screams, the pain… Everything came rushing along with the adrenaline as he surmised the carnage the Holy Grail War would entail for his peaceful home.

'What should I do?' he thought.

Nothing… I can't do anything. I'm not even a decent magus. Forget standing up against a Servant, I'd probably fold or be crushed underfoot by their Master if I tried to get in the way.

The thought was damning, but otherwise, his predicament to a T. If he had the power and capability to maybe distract—no. That wouldn't help much. There were seven Masters, each bound to a Servant which was a hero of legend. Considering what his father told him about them, and what he'd felt like under the threat of being skewered so easily earlier, he can't do squat as he was.

Despite his father's training, he was weak.

No matter his apparent talent as a starting spellcaster, he was a nobody.

As himself, as just a human way in over his head, Shirou was barely an inconvenience.

I can't save anyone.

But what was he to do to fight back? Could he even…—could I… summon a Servant? Dad mentioned… there was a summoning circle he etched in the shed but—could I… Maybe I could use—?!

'No. No, no, no! Think straight, stupid!' It was a bitter pill to swallow but he stopped that dangerous line of thought. Kiritsugu drilled into him the method to call upon a Heroic Spirit, but he warned of the dangers and implications of doing so.

'To summon one was to commit to the war. Committing to the war means you'd have to win no matter what. The price for failing to do anything and everything for victory is too great for you. Failure could mean more than just another fire like the one that consumed everything that day. Remember, son. The day you pull the trigger is when you are ready to throw everything away.'

His father's words echoed in his head. A warning to be heeded wholeheartedly. If he wanted to save anyone, he'd have to be ready to risk it all. If he wanted to win, he'd have to make sure no one was…. was… he had to… to kill… …

No… He can't blindly throw himself into it just because of fear and weakness. He wanted to save everyone he cared about but… to do what he'd thought of would mean risking himself and his morals.

He recalled what Illya said. He can't die here. He had to live. For the sake of saving everyone, he had to survive long enough to do so…! But he'd also have to kill… he had to be ready to kill any enemy that stood in his way, because he would be killed if he didn't fight back.

But he wasn't even a passable magus. Forget being killed by another Master, what's to say he wouldn't be killed by what Servant he summoned?

He couldn't be reckless or an idiot, even if both is what he was all the time, now was not a moment to gamble everything. Not when so many were at stake…

But the urge to do something, anything, was great.

So great that it had his already-frayed nerves on edge. He already knew what it felt to lose everything to the fire. He didn't want that to happen again. Such was a heavyweight in his heart that had him hesitant to keep running.

It got worse when he turned the corner to run down his street… only to feel a supernatural aura suddenly encompass him.

"NGH!" Shirou froze, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as his spine tingled.

He felt it once again, the looming danger of something he can't beat just watching him. Like realizing the eyes of a tiger are dead set on you, he felt his heart drop, his hairs tingle. The instinct to run was overwhelmed by the unnerving sense of dread of being caught already.

Shirou knew he shouldn't acknowledge the predatory gaze on him, but it was too late. He'd already stopped and obeyed the urge to look over his shoulder. There, just down the street, his amber orbs met the stare of a beautifully foreign woman with differently coloured eyes.

The woman nonchalantly approached, exotic clothing swaying in the chilly breeze as she stopped several meters away from him. But even at this distance, Shirou could feel it. The helplessness was akin to what he felt meeting that blue spearman encroached upon his whole being.

Though she was far away, there was no doubt in his mind she could kill him just as easily as the spear guy would've. His eyes roved over her attire, taking in her appearance and confirming it with a trace alone that she wasn't from here. She wasn't even human.

"Another… Servant…" he muttered to himself in fear but the woman seemed oddly surprised. That she smiled in acknowledgement had him bemoaning his horrible luck.

"Hm… And what do we have here?" the woman hummed in amusement. "A lone Master wandering about without their Servant? Quite reckless, don't you think, kid? Do you expect to win the war being so callous?"

"I…" He inched a foot back, slowly retreating and hoping the woman would let him go. He had to put hope somewhere if his begging didn't work. "I'm not a Master."

"Hmm… So you say, but kid." She pointed at the back of his hand with her chin. "Your Command Seals say otherwise. Consensual or not, you're part of the war. Unfortunately, that makes you my enemy."

A knife flew her way and was caught between her fingers. She turned the metal to admire its make before snapping it in half with barely any effort put into her thumb. The cracked metal glinted into motes of blue light, fragmenting like shiny but brittle glass as it disappeared in the wind.

"Hm. Cute."

Shirou didn't bother with her mockery as he summoned all he had and projected more knives to throw her way. Blade after blade, Swiss army knives to kitchen ones. He didn't have a clue what he was up against, but if there was one thing he could achieve with his abilities right now, that was to make a quick distraction in order to buy some time.

So he ran while his projections-turned-fragments pelted the Servant in the face.

"Heh. Think you can outrun a Rider, kid?"

Shirou didn't dare look behind him. Sending as many of his blades to blind her face, he didn't falter when he rounded the corner and slammed his shoulder into the doors of his home.

'Where is it? Where is it?!' Sifting through cabinets, he pulled some slips of paper out of the drawers and cast them aside. Protective wards used by his father would've come in handy holding out against a Master, probably, but that wasn't what he was looking for. Finding the specific box he was looking for not there, he groaned internally. 'Damn it… Did dad take his gun with him?'

The thud coming from the front door being forced open left Shirou with fewer options and even less time. Eyes darting about, he spotted the window and knew what he had to do.

"Oy, quit running around." The door to his room was kicked open and the woman came waltzing in unopposed. "You're a magus, are you not? My Master seeks a cordial exchange and your scampering about is pissing me—GAH!"

His only response was a small barrage of fragile daggers thrown at her face just before he leapt out the window. One swipe of her hands had the shattered projected metal scattering everywhere, scarring the wooden walls and flooring but otherwise not even scratching her own clothes.

Not even bothering to waste time looking at the ineffectiveness of his resistance, Shirou fled to the last place he could. The shed!

Getting in and locking himself in the box of a shelter, he pushed a cabinet against the door. A cabinet made of wood… That basically sealed any and every escape he had…

He'd run himself into a bloody corner, hadn't he?

'What now?!'

A thud sounded from beyond the door. Thinking fast, he put his all into tracing a good enough weapon. His knives were pointless, so he had to get creative. Forget modern weapons though. His long time spent practising projection told him he wasn't capable of making firearms.

"Trace o—GAH!"

Thoughts quickly ran straight to the spear that the blue guy used, but the ensuing migraine forced him to his knees and writhing in pain. His Magic Circuits sparked to life but were strained by the requirements of that projection, serving him a punishing blow for thinking he could project something so otherworldly.

'DAMMIT!' He groaned through his teeth. 'What is that thing made of?!'

Not normal metal, that was for sure. He had difficulty with things that weren't blades or knives, but a spear of that make? Just trying to make it feel like he was pushing his brain through the eye of a needle.

'Shit… Come on! Think!'

He had no time to panic. Time was not on his side. Quite frankly, it was only due to the woman taking her time that he had any time to suffer the consequences of his wrong decisions.

"Seems like you're a little stuck, brat!" CRASH. She bothered to knock before using a fist to punch a hole in the door and shoving the cabinet aside like it was made of paper. "Here! Let me lend you a hand! Or maybe a foot!"

What was apparently a kick threw the hinges clean off, splinters sent flying in Shirou's face as he fell deeper into the shed. The whole rickety structure was starting to collapse, causing part of the entrance to fall on the Servant woman's head and buying him precious seconds.

But seconds to do what? He barely had time to dust off as he scurried in retreat, back against the wall. One hand was up, tracing a useless dagger that was doubtlessly pointless against the vicious woman. His other hand fell behind him, trying to support his weight. That is until his fingers traced a formation made entirely of silver fluid that depicted the glyph for—'the Servant Summoning spell!'

He wheeled around to stare at the glyph. It hummed lightly with power, weak yet functional. He recalled Kiritsugu had this set up for other reasons before when he was an active participant in the previous war, but… Though he taught Shirou the chant that was required to use it, he also demanded Shirou never approach it. Why it was glowing with power now of all times, Shirou didn't know. But…

Did he dare use it?

If he could summon a Servant, he could be saved.

But would he really—? Kiritsugu warned against it! And he sure as shit wasn't ready—!

CRASH. The roof just about caved in as the woman marched in, expression unamused and differently-coloured eyes assessing him for all he was worth. "No more running. Either you cooperate or… well, my Master likely won't mind if I made your passing quick and painless."

He was dead. Of that, he was certain. She may have tried for a peaceful resolution, but there was no way he could trust a magus or their Servant. Not when something as important as the Grail was involved.

Lenient as they may act, he might as well be dead when the day is done.

That meant it was to fight or die. And he sure as hell wasn't going out peacefully. "Trace—!"

Steel manifested in the air. Swiss army knives, kitchen blades, everything and anything he'd practised on all these years that he could manifest without much effort. And while each weapon was of rudimentary make, that only meant he could spawn as much as his Magic Circuits could—

"GAH!" A shiver ran through his spine as his projection exerted pressure on his meagre Circuits, reaching beyond what he normally used them for. 'Dammit… is this it for me?'

"You dare squander a chance at surrender, boy?" the woman scoffed as he fired one blade her way. She caught it with ease and twirled it between her fingers. "Fine. I respect a warrior that would stand to their very last, foolish as it may be. Come at me!"

"RAAAAAAAAGH!" Shirou hated it. Not the fact that her mocking tone claimed to respect his decision, but the fact that he had no choice in the matter. That and his waning strength as she continued to swat away his projections like they were flies. Pushing on, he sought more from his meagre reserves.

'More… I need more!' he groaned against the stress the magecraft was putting on his body. Swallowing hard, he pulled on anything and everything he had. "TRACE—" He bit his lip… and it bled a darkred. "—ON!"


Rider watched as her target struggled.

She didn't lie one bit about respecting his bravery. Though the brat could've opted to submit in the face of what was obviously a stronger opponent, the redheaded young man's determination was something to admire.

A shame that he chose to spit in the face of her mercy.

Knife after the blade, curved slender swords nary a meter long and more pelted her. But being a Servant, such mortal weapons could do no harm. The boy may have employed a creative use of his craft, but it lacked the power, the bite to wound a Servant. It was certainly an annoyance though.

"Trace… ON!"

One of the newly spawned blades caught Rider's special eye. Catching it between her fingers, she kicked the ground hard, sending the boy sprawling back as a crater formed between them. Upon stopping his endless wave of projected steel, she studied the dagger that had her magic eye instinctively alerting her. But upon looking down, she noticed the redness of her hand, a wet and slimy feeling in her fingers.

She was bleeding.

'What the…?' She took notice of the blade, black and wickedly sharp. Far better than those he threw at her earlier. But there was an eerie feeling to it. It was almost—nay. It was definite as soon as her eyes caught the wisps of darkness. Wisps of hate that craved to hurt her skin by contact alone. 'How did a child come to learn to project cursed magic?'

"T-Trace—!"

Rider wasted no time snapping the dagger in half. The projection vanished like the rest, but its source and make had her more alert than before. More cursed daggers appeared. Some of them carry more of the cursed dark energy than before. But all that stopped when, with one foot, she kicked a nearby cabinet at the corner where the boy had been hiding from.

"GAH!" CRASH.

She heard a yelp of a brat getting clobbered by a half-broken dresser, preventing him from firing more blades at her.

'Quite the anomaly. Perhaps there are those who possess magic capable of hurting Servants in the modern age after all.' She commented to herself. Once again, silence befell the ruined shed as the brat's attacks ceased entirely. Then, suddenly, she felt it. A pulse of mana emanated from the dark corner of the ruined shed.

It was a familiar hum of power. After all, she too answered its call once before. Light began to shine from the dark corner of the broken shed.

'A Servant Summoning?' Manifesting her own blade, she rushed in to end the problem before it could manifest. The swiftness of a crimson bolt of lightning trailed after her. What it clashed against was a darkness that didn't budge one bit against the force of a thunderbolt. "Kuh…."

A blackened sword held her back. It wasn't the boy's. No. Though it had a darkness about it, there was a clear difference between this blade and the daggers he'd thrown from its regal aura alone.

Where the cursed daggers were imbued with hate akin to gnashing teeth, the black sword adorned with regal purple filigree was a just and indifferent darkness.

"Begone."

The one who wielded the weapon muttered quietly, almost annoyed. Rider's instincts compelled her to retreat and she did. It was just in time as the air about the newcomer suddenly became heavy and imposing. Through her eye, she watched the mana permeating in the air become a solid wave that pushed outward, cracking the already broken rooftop but repelling the debris outward leaving the newcomer to bask under the moon's spotlight.

A young woman, blonde and pale, stared at her with golden orbs. Clad in dark armour that shone with purple lustre under the moon's hallowed blue, a black knight stood guard. While her features were one reserved for regal beauty, her expression was of cold apathy. One that had Rider instinctively thinking of her king.

Not in that they shared a likeness but for the fact that her new opponent seemed to be his complete opposite. Cold, distant, ruthless.

"And who might you be, stranger?" Rider readied her sword, contemplating whether she should call her chariot. "You don't happen to be the brat's Servant, are you?"

"Servant… me?" The black knight's expression softened a bit. As though snapping out of a trance, she spared a glance to the boy behind her who, Rider finally noticed, was staring at the knight with a dumbstruck expression until the knight finally spoke. "You… Are you… my Master…?"

The boy's expression stiffened upon being addressed before glancing back to his Command Seals and the etchings on the floor that soon faded of all the Grail magic's light. Assessing the situation swiftly, Rider came to the conclusion that the brat might not have intentionally summoned for one but accidentally triggered an already-prepared glyph.

Of all the machinations of Fate, she just had to have stumbled on the most ridiculous one. A shame. She was so close to resolving this without a fight too.

Well, she was getting bored sniffing out mice anyway.

"While I'd prefer to not cut in and ruin the moment, I'm of the mind to nip problems in the bud." Levelling her sword in a ready stance, Rider summoned a crackle of lightning to travel down her steel. "Please, step aside. I'm under orders to confiscate the brat's Command Seals. I won't kill him, but I can't let him go with them still attached to a potential nuisance."

The blonde knight's gaze returned to meet Rider's own. And though she appeared to be lost earlier, there was a steeliness to her gaze now, as well as a firm warning as she kept her black sword up. The regal sheen of the dark blade suddenly instilled Rider with a clue as to her identity, causing the heterochromatic woman to grit her teeth at her worsening luck.

"Leave. Else I cut you down where you stand." The knight stated flatly with a scowl.

"Afraid I can't do that, King of Knights," Rider muttered back equally unamused. "I may have planned to spare the boy, but allowing a Servant as powerful as you to join in on the fun is detrimental for me in many ways. For that, your Master will have to die. Nothing personal, kid." She threw the offhand comment to the boy and threw a smirk at her opponent. "You'd do the same if you knew you couldn't win by fighting directly, no, Saber?"

The answer was not in words. Instead, it was an almost instantaneous slash to her head. In the process of attempting to block it, and subsequently being pushed back by the force of the swing, one thought ran through Rider's mind.

'Ah… shit… Did I piss her off?'

CRASH

With a thunderous sound that almost couldn't be muffled by the residence's Boundary Field, Rider crashed into the earth to form a crater several meters deep almost pushing past the firewall and spilling into the street. A relief, considering having to avoid causing a commotion for the normal folk was a task that her Master insisted upon.

Be that as it may, it seems her foe did not get that memo as she flew out of the shed in one leap and brought down her sword on Rider's head.

'Ah, I hate hotheads…' Calling upon her chariot, the wyverns swiftly manifested mere meters from her left already moving at speed. Reaching out to grab the reins, she was immediately dragged to the side, evading Saber's head-splitting slash as it deepened the crater. So much so that something underground must've exploded for a spout of water suddenly gushed out to rain over the property.

So much for keeping the war a secret.

"S-Saber!" The boy Master stumbled out of the shed, seemingly perplexed at the violence taking place. "S-Saber! Stop this! Stop already!"

"Stay back, Master! You will just get in the way." The blonde knight spared him one look before turning her attention towards Rider in the air as she circled above them. "This one knows too much. She cannot be allowed to leave!"

Rider smirked, spotting a chance to taunt a chase. "What's wrong, King of Knights? Is your fame too much to handle? Worry not, I won't dare ask for an autograph. But do be pleased, I will share our wonderful encounter with everyone else I meet. It's not every day I get to cross swords with the famed King Arthur and live to tell the tale!"

"That is if you live…" Rider could've missed it had Saber not hissed it with such disdain. Dark energies started to form around her sword, whipping up a maelstrom of mana that had Rider beading with sweat. "Let's make it interesting, Rider. Come and claim the honour of being my first kill!"

She'd rather not. With her class's base stats, getting out of the way of whatever that was would be child's play. After all, only the biggest of idiotic fools with kingly levels of stupidity would dare try ramming against that head-on. She scoffed at the notion of being the one to claim that title.

"Hmph, as entertaining as your proposition sounds, my overly pessimistic Master has ordered me to cut meetings with problematic opponents short. Worry not, we'll see each other again, I'm sure." Cracking the reins of her skeletal wyverns, she spared the dark knight and her equally curious Master one more glance. Specifically with her glinting magic eye. "Until next time, girlie! You as well, boy!"

Upon reaching a fair distance in the skies, Rider dematerialized her chariot and body to rush back to base.

'Master… We have a problem.' The immediate response on the other end of the telepathic bond was a sigh. That and probably a deep inhalation of a cigarette but Faker had already given up stopping the man's bad habits. 'Also, I'm curious. Do you magi often utilize cursed magecraft?'


Saber lowered her sword.

To be insulted and found out all on the same day… It was honestly not as frustrating as she thought it'd be. But to miss out on a chance to vent her frustrations, which had her fists balled around Excalibur Morgan's grip.

"Saber! You alright—AGH!" Her Master, so she presumed upon recognizing the bond between them, stumbled to the dirt with a limp. Studying him, she recognized signs of strain and combat wounds. The surrounding area also looked to have been exposed to a battle, smaller in scale compared to hers and Rider's momentary clash, but there was evidence of a fight before she was called.

Whoever the kid was, he did not simply run from Rider. He fought with what he could. For that, she would give him credit.

But only so little, for even now, under her gaze, she could tell he was a weak one.

Saber's gaze turned from her Master towards the fragments of knives now dissipating from the ground as well as the many blade marks etched in the surrounding battleground. Nothing special from the simple look, and yet it was easy to see that the redheaded boy who created the magic was even more so.

A young magus with the will to call upon her had guts, but that did not translate into strength. Looking at how frantic and feeble he was, desperation was a more likely catalyst for their bond.

She considered it for a second, then scoffed. Whatever reasons he may have had did not matter. Not for this Saber.

Looking down on her sword, Excalibur did not shine with the golden lustre akin to her older blade Caliburn. But neither did it bear the weaker darkness of a corrupted Arondight. Nay… She was summoned as a Saber, but not as her other weaker self.

But this was for the better. Yes. This time… she stands a better chance.

But her inner apathy for putting more effort than needed fought against showing the lad mercy. So she settled with a compromise.

"Stand." Her voice was firm, directed at the young man groaning in the dirt. "You have survived a Servant attack even before you summoned me. As my Master, you best not disappoint. Stand!"

"Y-yes, ma'am—Ngh!" He groaned from the pain but did not dally further. He was on his feet within seconds, still tired, still weak, but he stood tall as he took her visage in. "Th-thank you, by the way… For saving me…"

Saber shook her head, dispelling her sword as she relaxed a bit. "A Master need not thank a Servant for doing their duty. However, for someone who was chosen as a Master, you need to pick your battles better. Had I not answered your call, you'd most certainly be dead."

The boy gulped but he didn't falter. Instead, he stared at her. Saber didn't find him unnerving; she couldn't form a weaker individual. Moreso when in his gaze, there was something… unusual.

"What?"

"I'm sorry! For staring but…" the boy stammered a bit as he cleared his throat. "It's just… I'd heard about the Grail War and what it entailed. I knew about Servants and the like… I even had to run away from a couple but… but you're…"

He trailed off, lost in his thoughts. That he ignored her irked Saber somewhat. She stamped her foot and stepped forward, reaching up to grab his collar. "Don't dally! Speak up, then. What is on your mind?"

"S-sorry!" He buckled upon having a shorter woman pull him down by the shirt to level with his eyes. He most certainly flushed upon meeting the gaze of her pale golden orbs. But Saber didn't see fear nor frustration in his gaze. It was more… simple. "I… I just…" he swallowed audibly. "I was just… taken aback by you…."

An honest confession. An innocent one. To that, Saber bore no ill will. Relenting her grip, she gave him space. "Is that all?" was her response as the boy tried to straighten himself out.

"Y-yes… I… I was just… surprised, is all. Never in my life did I think I could summon a Servant, much less participate… in the Grail War. These things… Command Seals, they're called? They appeared on my hand so suddenly just minutes ago and… well…" He sighed. Deeply at that. "I'm just… a little out of it right now."

He didn't know what to do or make of his situation. That was very reasonable. Often a civilian she'd seen in her reign wherein they find themselves a lucky survivor of a sudden battle. He had the same expression on.

He expected the fighting but was unused to being part of it.

Saber reined in her impatience. Apathetic and frustrated as she was to be brought back into the fray yet not get a good fight to relieve her stress, it wouldn't do to lose her head over something so insignificantly trivial. Though a Master, he was clearly not like most magi. Soft, feeble, no weight in his presence or stoicism in his step either. Neither his Magic Circuits nor the way he used magecraft was impressive or outstanding in any way, which she could discern from experience dealing with such in the past.

The boy was, at the very least, headstrong and upfront. More than can be said about her previous Master…

Putting aggravating thoughts away, he was as he appeared to be: A boy brought into the fold unexpectedly and through no fault of his own. Her old self would've pitied him and likely sworn to protect the brat, but her present self had no such qualms.

"As you are clearly inexperienced, and very likely a novice magus, I will forgive your failings, Master." She dispelled her armour, revealing a night-black dress that exposed more skin but didn't hide the resplendent elegance of her noble form, petite as she may be. "But… I will not tolerate you being a burden. As my Master, I expect you to be stronger, and more resilient. Bar that, ensure you survive and don't get in my way. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am!" he saluted, though it was unnecessary as it was but a simple declaration, not an order.

"Enough of that. I'm only making myself clear. I will not order you beyond leaving the fighting to me. In that, I assure you I will never be beaten."

"I don't doubt you…" he still stared at her with awe. "Is… is it true?"

"Hm?"

"Are you… are you really… the King of Knights?"

Saber studied the redhead's gaze on her. Unlike someone she very much did not want to name, he didn't share abject disbelief. An eye of wonder was more apt. He didn't question her identity. Instead, he questioned her presence and the truth of her existence.

Saber's apathy broke with a scoffing chuckle, finding it in herself to see the brat's admiration of her as something amusing.

"Indeed, there is no hiding it. Troubling as it is for our foes to have uncovered my identity, but I will not hide. I am the King of Knights, the wielder of Excalibur, he who is named the King of the Britons. Arthur Pendragon."

"Your name…" The boy's expression softened, as though filled with joy for meeting someone of great renown. Then, it suddenly shifted to one of hesitance. "But… wasn't your name… 'Artoria'?"

Saber eyed the boy curiously. It was clear to her upon her first summoning that many had attributed her myth to a male. Or rather, history had long erased the life of the weak woman she used to be before taking on the sword because that was how the legend of the heir of Uther was to be ordained.

However, not once has the boy asked why she was a woman. In fact, he seemed to have already known.

"Curious. Indeed, that it is. But how is it that you don't seem surprised to know of my gender and real name?"

"I know of you… You were summoned before, in the Fourth Holy Grail War that happened ten years ago?"

Saber's gaze narrowed slightly. Her mind raced, attempting to recall if she'd ever revealed herself to him before. But she came up blank. In fact, her mind struggled to recall the end of the war itself. All she could pull up now were memories of the start-up to just around the conclusion. Nowhere anywhere did she recall meeting a rambunctious child who would see her with guiltless eyes of respect.

"I beg of you, Saber. Please help me win this war! I don't have anyone else to turn to, but I want to save those I care about." Balled fist to his chest, he made to show that earnest expression unique to soldiers who have yet to lose their way in the shroud of war. "I want to prevent the disaster that happened when the previous war ended. I know it's too much to ask for a favour from someone I just met, especially when it's to a hero like yourself, but I need to!" He bowed and watched her with earnest eyes. "Please, help me save everyone I care about!"

She hardly recalled anyone with such eyes… even the last descendant of her line hardly looked so innocent. Or naïve. But this boy… even if her mind was clouded with apathy for his cause, it instilled something within her. Something… nostalgic…

"Saber?" Said innocent eyes looked at her worriedly.

"Hmph…." Saber huffed. Arms crossed as she levelled her gaze on the curious boy that was now her Master, she studied him. "I will not refuse your request. As my summoner, I am already anchored to you by my oath to the Grail. My victory is yours and vice versa. Hence, I will see my side of the deal through. You best not disappoint me."

"I—I won't! I promise I'll not be a burden, Saber!" He said as much with vigor and honesty that even the apathetic nature of her darker aspect found it entertaining.

"Very well. But enough banter about me. You have yet to give me your name and full story, Master. How is it that you know of the truth of my legend?"

"Ah, my name's… Shirou. As for my story… that's… there's nothing to tell actually." He scratched his cheek like a shy child. "As for how I know you, I… I grew up hearing stories about you. Not your legends. Those were famous enough. I actually heard everything about you from my father, Emiya Kiri—!"

FWOOM

A single scratch appeared on the boy's neck as Excalibur Morgan suddenly tickling his skin made him freeze in silence.

"Emiya… you say?" Saber resisted the urge to laugh at the cruel irony that almost played out under her nose. "You mean to tell me I was summoned by his brat? Emiya Kiritsugu. Is that right?"

"S-Saber…?"

All her sympathy for the redheaded brat vanished in an instant. It was all replaced by a cruel and furious glare that threatened vengeance for his betrayal. And, sadly, the boy was tragically unaware of why she suddenly turned hostile to someone she agreed to fight on the same side with.

The grip on her blade had never been so tense. No wonder she felt so nostalgic upon fighting where she was. The house, the shed, the ruined courtyard, everything was the same place, albeit a decade in the future.

She was summoned to the residence of that man.

"S-Saber… what's going on–?!"

"No sudden movements." The firmness of her tone returned. But unlike the motivational words from earlier, it was instead replaced with a warning. "Answer my questions. I will not tolerate a single lie from you."

The boy swallowed and nodded, confused but compliant.

"How are you related to that man? To Emiya Kiritsugu."

"He… He's my father… He adopted me… ten years ago, after the fire that destroyed Fuyuki." The boy's gaze met hers. Gone was the admiration, replaced by helpless pleading. "He was the one to tell me about the war… about you…"

The memory rushed to her head upon his saying it. She recalled the fire, the hate, the betrayal. She recalled the man that was the cause of it all as well as the end to her fight wrought by his forceful order.

He'd ordered her to forsake the Grail. To forfeit the war. He… was a traitor.

Her gaze drifted to the brat's Command Seals; the lifeline provided by the Grail as well as the bond that latched their souls together glowed crimson like blood. Or fire. More reminders of the betrayal. They were also a potential risk of being betrayed again.

She wouldn't have it. She couldn't risk losing one again. Her hate for the blasted Seals seared her heart, but she couldn't very well order him to destroy them. Forget winning the war, she wouldn't last a day without an anchor to this world on account of how much mana she needed.

But looking at the boy now afraid and uncertain, she hardly thought him capable of betraying her. Or was it just the initial impression she had of him? He was his child, after all, blood-related or otherwise.

"Where is he?"

"Outside of Fuyuki. Somewhere in Japan. I'm not sure—"

"Did that man tell you about what he did during the war? What he'd done to others for the sake of his selfish wish? What he did do to me?!"

Anger and hatred surfaced above her apathetic visage. He could easily pick it up from her tone, but she wanted him to know. She wanted to know how the boy would react.

From an outsider's perspective, it might have looked like Saber was threatening him. And to some extent, she was, even if she didn't want to harm as long as her fear was pacified. And she couldn't very well ask blatantly if he intended to use her for his own ends as his father had.

But Saber wanted to see his honest feelings. Despite her betrayed aspect's expectations, something within her, the ideal of a King, yearned to know what the earnest boy knew and believed.

She wanted to know if he was worthy of her trust…

It was a shame outsiders knew not the well-meaning intent hidden by her cruel visage.

CLANG

"Watch it!" Steel clashed.

"KUH!" Saber reeled.

"Saber—?!" Shirou could do naught but stare. Though he was kicked aside by Saber herself, he didn't fault her. Not when a newcomer who intervened in his interrogation was pushing her blade down on the King of Knights and winning.

"Apologies for interrupting, but I'm afraid I can't allow harm to befall him." Sakura petals seemed to flow as the new arrival swept her blade aside to parry and thrust, pushing Artoria on the defence with swift attacks. The black sword of legend screeched and sparked against a seemingly plain and delicate katana that shone under the moonlight. "No hard feelings, Saber?"

"Keh! You little—!" The new arrival deftly avoided getting beheaded by ducking away. Saber summoned her armour back on and used its weight to throw a kick. "Out of the way!"

"Woops!" However, the girl deftly leapt away, taking a stand by her Master yet protectively guarding him, much to the boy's surprise.

"Er… Who—?" That he was stammering meant he didn't intend for this. And that just made things more confusing.

After all, since when would another Servant protect a Master from their own Servant?

"Who the fuck are you?!" Saber spat out for them both, anger exponentially rising as she seemingly stared at a mirror image of her expression, except it bore a look that was less furious and more on the cheeky side.

"You can call me Assassin." She held one hand to cover the boy and kept the other with her katana trained on Saber. "And I've come to protect you, sir. On behalf of my Master."

The sight of someone sharing her face as they protected her Master made the dragon inside Saber's heart roar. Was it envy? Was it anger? She didn't know. But upon meeting the gaze of the interloper who dared to intervene in the middle of their talk, all bets were off.

"What is the meaning of this, imposter?" Excalibur Morgan hummed with energy as Saber aimed it at her lookalike. "Did you come to steal my Master?"

"Nay." Assassin's gaze was cold as she spoke, still guarding the redhead Master who was confused once more by what was happening. "I was ordered to defend the boy from you. My Master is the kind hearted type and doesn't like the idea of those close to her being harmed. I suggest you back off now, knight. Unless you want to get killed."

Saber heard the threat and the anger within her core fumed. She was being told to back away, to relent, getting the answers she sought. What's more, she was being told off by a woman who stole her face.

Her apathy was worn away entirely by confused fury, all due to an unexpected misunderstanding.


Far away from the battleground-to-be that was Fuyuki city, a single magus observed the city from the window of his hideout on the outskirts of town.

Though spying on the competition would've been difficult for an ordinary magus, one Marisbury Animusphere was blessed with a very special boon. Though, how special would remain to be seen, alas the war had already started. Studying the location that was to become their field of battle had long since passed and prior investigations with the dedicated help of his companion led him to one simple conclusion.

"The real masterminds behind the Grail War seem to be keeping their hands clean."

"As we expected of them, Master."

Marisbury hummed in acknowledgement, carefully consulting the notes Heartless died trying to pass to him once more. He'd read through the dossier dozens of times over enough to have memorized it. Especially when they gave him the means to figure out the truth.

That there was more to this cycle of the age-old ritual than just another battle royale.

"I've confirmed the presence of the sixth Servant, Master." Marisbury shifted his attention to his partner as the man—nay, the Servant gave his report. "It seems your friend's companion riled up the last Master. I've sensed her fleeing the rough location of the last one to be summoned. Though I have yet to discern their identity, the magnitude of their mana signature suggests a problematic one."

The aged magus contemplated a bit. While it was unfortunate that Waver Velvet almost intervened in this issue, he couldn't say it was a bad thing to know one of the many players in the war. At the very least, knowing one's potential comrade amongst enemies was better than suspecting everyone else to be a foe.

Still, that the man's Servant blundered in pushing the seventh Master into successfully calling a bigger fish than his could handle alone… Marisbury was wondering if he should look a gift horse in the mouth.

'No matter.' He shook his head. "If all seven are in play, then we must move on with our plans, Caster." Putting Heartless' last project for him just above a candle, Marisbury willed his magecraft to set the pages alight. Once he was done torching the files, he cast the ashes out the window where he spied the city from. "No turning back now."

"Do you feel regret for taking this path?" His Servant prompted the question. "There is still the option to back out, Master."

"The die has been cast." The magus ignored the blank look of concern on the Heroic Spirit's face. Though he didn't express much, the man was somewhat aware of what his companion wanted to ascertain. "I may not know my opponent's names or hopes for the Grail… Nor do I think I'm in the right to choose this path over all others… But…" He took a tired breath in and sighed. "A decade ago, I may have thought differently. But the situation is untenable now. While we all minded our own business in the moonlit world, they have been scurrying in the darker shadows. The political situations and shifts of power over the years both hidden and otherwise might even be their doing as well. At this point, nothing is certain except for the fact that the world's balance is at risk."

The stakes included his position as Lord, as head of his family, and likely more. Whoever was behind the death of his former helper was an enemy Marisbury Animusphere couldn't ignore.

At the very least, the Lord of Clock Tower felt safer knowing he wasn't alone here. To fight shadows, he would need access to magecraft more powerful than any modern magi could utilize save for a few vampiric exceptions. Which was why he was internally glad his companion didn't voice any more protests.

However, that didn't mean he remained relaxed when the former royal, who wore an expression stiffer than homunculi, suddenly shifted his gaze to the city.

"Something wrong, Caster?"

"I sensed… something irregular. Two. Similar to Servants, but… not quite. Or rather, oddly formed." Vague as it was, rarely had there been anything the Heroic Spirit could discern as a threat. That he worded it warningly was something Marisbury noted. "One gives off an aura similar to my magecraft. Whatever it is, the air about them is from the time before even mine. Or maybe beyond."

"That's bad," Marisbury commented. Worst comes to worst, then perhaps this thing Caster sensed was the mastermind they were after. Hopefully not. He picked up his things and prepared to work. For now, they should stay low. Maybe build alliances with other Masters and try to find out whatever this thing is before eliminating it. "Let's go, Caster. Caution for now. We focus on scouting the city and enforcing our base of operation. This place will become our fortress if needed. Shore up our defences and scope out the rest of the competition."

His ever-expressionless Servant didn't even give him the word of acknowledgement and simply returned to his work over spell circles. Marisbury sighed. He thought after going out of his way to find the only existing ring of the great king, that said king would be someone he could work with. He was, but he could stand to be a bit more talkative. There is so much one could have learned from someone of his status. But… oh well, at least as a Clock Tower Lord with his many connections managed to secure himself one of the strongest Servants one can hope for.

Seven summoned Servants. Two beings close to the Servant. One monstrous anomaly.

Though Marisbury wasn't aware of it, he was utterly and unfortunately correct in his assessment.

The Fifth Holy Grail War was shaping up to be even more destructive and complex than the last one.

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Hey, hey! It's been a long time since the last update wasn't it? Happy Halloween for those who celebrate it….

…Y-eah, sorry, this chapter could have been released 10 days ago if it wasn't for this site having issues and me having technical issues, one of them being unable to find a pc in France. I'm currently on my exchange program in Toulouse and writing and updating on a tablet is really difficult.

Regardless of the chapter, you have seen all the servants and masters who are currently participating in the war. The Fifth war started and I'm pleased that people quickly deduced the identity of the Assassin in the last chapter. Can you guess who the Caster is? ;) Besides that, Salter is here and she has a bone to pick up with a few people. Poor Emiya Archer is yet to see the worst this timeline has to offer and make him suffer, who knows if he and Cu will even get to fight each other?

Beyond that, how is it going my fellow gacha addicts? How were your rolls this summer? Me? Nothing much, just got np2 Morgan from GSSR and got Vitch with few tickets during anny, new Halloween was very generous for me with both Zenobia and Jacques coming in 5 tickets, hehe-

But before you will click off, here is a small gift for you dear readers:


Omake


Chaldea. Home.

Rather, the new home Ruler, Lelouch vi Britannia, had spent a few months getting used to. Together, he and his Master Ritsuka travelled across space and time, through different Lost Belts and Singularities that revolved around many an aberrant plot. Not always was their journey an easy one, usually full of hardships and tragedy for simple people. And there were also those who didn't deserve terrible fates to fall upon them. However, this was a war of attrition and the entire humanity's future was at stake.

Sure, this wasn't his humanity to save. Yet Lelouch couldn't help but pity Ritsuka's human history that needed saving.

'Still, we managed to beat six Lost Belts so far. Ritsuka and Mash need some time off to collect their thoughts after the last one.'

Lelouch hummed to himself. He too could use some time off. Dealing with certain annoyances was easy. Enduring relentless ones was rather difficult and grated on his stoic albeit limited patience. A man can only do the daily grind for so long, after all…

Ruler trekked the halls of Chaldea's latest base of operations in the middle of the sea, sighing his woes away when, unexpectedly, he turned a corner and bumped into someone.

"Finally found you, Ruler!"

"Oh, my apologies—Er…" Lelouch stalled, eyes meeting Artoria's—well, the Lancer variant—as she stood before him clad in her silver and white armour. "Your Highness?"

"Mm. It seems Master and yourself have returned." She gave him a nod before concern overtook her expression. "Are you okay, Lelouch?"

"I… am." The Demon Emperor blinked. "There was no foreseeable issue in concluding the last mission."

"Ah… That is good. I'm glad you could all make it back safely."

For a moment, she stared at him. Not necessarily with concern, but more… relief? Lelouch didn't know what to make of this behaviour. "Er… Thanks."

"You are welcome. If you feel anything off, do not hesitate to be checked by our medical staff. And if you need someone to talk to, myself and the other Knights of the Round will always hear you out."

Before Lelouch could even say anything, Lancer Artoria had given him a warm smile and turned to leave. The former Emperor of Britannia stared at her retreating form not knowing what to think. Actually, no, he did know what to think about her suggestion. Kind a gesture as it was, he'd never go into Chaldea's medical department. The last thing he needed was to get killed while receiving 'treatment' from either Nightingale or Asclepius.

'Still, what was that about?' Shrugging, Lelouch headed for the recreation room.


While aiding humanity was a kind of fun all on its own, he couldn't very well keep up this pace without a break every now and then. And rather than risk himself in the medical ward, or entertain the Nobu horde, he might as well find a game to play.

In fact, a gang of rambunctious Servants were already there waiting for him, console controllers in hand as they had just finished racing one another.

"Oh, look who's finally here!" Clad in his favourite T-shirt bulging under the stress of his muscles, a belligerent redheaded King threw him his controller. "Ready to lose this time, self-proclaimed Kart Emperor?"

"You're welcome to lose to me once more, Crimson Conqueror."

Compared to solving the issues found in the Lost Belts, having a mindless game of kart racing was cathartic. Games in this world differed lightly from his own, but the novelty was in its simplicity. No need for too much strategy or manipulating the human nature. Just the exhilarating feeling of passing your competitors after you sabotage them with fruit!

"AH! That's unfair, Lelouch! How many times must you insult me with a banana!" Iskandar tried to get back in the race, but the delay put him two paces behind already. "Dammit! Arbitrary randomness be damned, I will seize victory today!"

"Come at me then, you big gorilla—Ah—AAAAAAAAH! Who threw the accursed blue shell—Waver!"

"You two spent too much time bickering. I was aiming for Tomoe Gozen, but you let yourself pass her too early." The older version of the coward that was once his age huffed as he kept his focus on the race. Though, no one missed the smirk on his face. "Consider it your mistake for pushing too far ahead, fool."

"Dammit!" Lelouch tried to pull back his lead. Waver passed him quite easily and Iskandar was still far behind having been caught in yet another banana trap. But their fourth competitor was happily humming to herself as her kart slipped through yet another shortcut, pulling a full lap's lead ahead of the pack. 'Here I thought I could use Waver's pragmatism to my advantage. Little did I know Tomoe Gozen of all people would delay in second place until the broken item was used… Dammit, perhaps I can still salvage second place!'

The heated games continued. The Last Place King vs the Cunning Emperor vs the Conniving Aide. All three of them had conspired to beat the Calm Oni Warrior. Though it started off fun with friendly banter, the master of the recreation room, otherwise known as Tomoe's Den, was apparently someone Lelouch couldn't underestimate. But then, stupidity reared its ugly head as the trio devolved into infighting and sabotage against one another. All the while, Gozen made another high score to beat her already impressive record.

It was a humiliating defeat. For all three of them to be swept off their feet by a woman who always insisted on 'moderation', despite being a rampant gaming addict herself, such was a shame that needed redemption.

"One more! Another round!" Iskandar was of the same mind.

"It's already late into the night, you oaf. We'd best turn in now." Waver Velvet thought otherwise.

It was Lelouch's turn to smirk. "You're just mad she beat you all the way down to second last."

"That's uncalled for, seeing as you fared no better yourself, 'Kart Emperor'."

"Oy, instead of bickering amongst one another, I wager we can at least beat her three-on-one!"

Both boys looked to the giant suggesting an unfair alliance before turning to the lone woman who beat them all. She was still beaming as though there was nothing wrong. "I'd welcome another challenge. That is if you'd have me."

That she smiled so innocently, as though beating them was child's play, that touched a nerve. Shameful alliance be damned, it synced the tired brain cell the three boys were sharing at the moment.

""Another round, it is!""

"No more." Lancer Parvati let her staff bonk the top of Iskandar's thick skull. Crossing her arms, she began to scold them. "You three again… you're setting a bad example for the children. Come now. Turn it down. It's already late and the kids need to sleep." There was much whining throughout the recreation room, however, she fixed a beaming, albeit threatening smile on everyone present, rare for the Kouhai of Light to act as the strict disciplinarian. "There will be plenty of time to play tomorrow. Come now, let's head on to your rooms. Nursery, Jack, Bunyan, Abigail. You too, Alexander. Come on, Kama."

Many of the smaller Servants meekly followed the big sister character out the hall without much of a fuss. Even the younger variant Alexander threw his older iteration a wry smile before taking his leave. That left the three boys and Tomoe Gozen. Actually, even Tomoe Gozen had long excused herself with just the trio left behind.

"Feh… Fine. Just us three again. No matter. We can all formulate a strategy to beat that game master woman once and for all."

"Leave it be, you big lug. There's no way you'd match Tomoe Gozen's mastery of the rec room."

"Oh? If you believe so, why aren't you letting go of the controller, Waver Velvet?"

"Because, your Highness, I too want to enjoy a game that doesn't devolve into a circus for once."

"So you say, but discounting the oni woman's skill, you've yet to actually enjoy a game against me." Lelouch readied his controller while Iskandar, sensing the competitive tension, joined in solidarity. "Ready to lose?"

"The better question, O Emperor, is—" Waver sat comfortably with an arrogant smirk. "—Are you?"

"Bring it—!"

"No one is bringing it." The television turned off, as did their gaming console as a certain someone they failed to notice enter had directly unplugged the devices. Staring down at them disappointedly was none other than another Artoria, Saber to be exact. "Lelouch, did you see the time? It is too late for games. Now go to your room."

"Eh? What—?! Aw, come on, Saber—!"

"Hush, King of Conquerors. I expected you to be more mature at your age, but it seems your lack of a proper parental figure has left you spoiled rotten. I trust your aide knows better than to let you off easy?" She gave Waver a stern stare, one he folded under with the decorum of a delinquent caught in the act.

"She… she's right, my King. We should go."

"Oh, come on! Not you too!"

As the pair started a spat, Lelouch was then approached by the woman acting all… motherly? "That means you too, young man. It's way past your bedtime."

"But—But your highness—?"

"None of this 'highness' business, young man!" Artoria pointed her finger at him with the cadence of a strict parent. "Look at yourself, you look so thin and pale. No wonder your strength attribute is so low. You will go to your room and get sleep right now, mister. And tomorrow, we'll have you start exercising."

"… HUH?!"

"I asked Master ahead of time to see if you were free. Since you all just came from solving yet another issue and will not be deployed for a while, I and the others thought it best that we give you some attention as well." She held her palms in his. "For missed opportunity's sakes, we haven't spent time as a family much. What with all the missions we're on."

Lelouch paused. He considered. He concluded. And the first thing to come to his mouth was "EEEEEEEEEEEH?!"

"You heard me, young man. While I may not have acted as an appropriate ancestor, I still have the humility to know where I am wrong and to put effort in correcting it. As my progeny, I will ensure you grow up to be a well-respected and learned individual, be it with the sword or otherwise."

"But—Wait… Huh? I'm…" For a full thirty seconds, Lelouch stammered. He ignored the buffoons off to the side as they started chortling in laughter while trying to sort out this predicament. "Wait, what about Mordred? Aren't you her father?"

Crossing her arms, Saber contemplated before coming to her own conclusions. "Indeed. It's best we include her too."

"Not that! I'm not your son!"

"You need not put it so crudely, Lulu." Lelouch's face twitched as Saber Artoria of all people cupped his cheeks delicately. "We are family. And as one of your many parental figures, I ask you to obey and head to bed. Tomorrow, myself, Mordred, and the rest of our extended family will be doing some familial excursions. Don't worry. We've taken into account that you aren't the most physically exertive of us, so we will match your pace. Now. Bed."

That she gave him a peck on the forehead should've felt demeaning. That she pulled his head down to reach it as she was shorter than him got Iskandar guffawing on the couch with Waver looking away with a smirk. Lelouch could not but curse them under his breath as he trudged on to his room.

"And make sure you head to your room, young man." Saber added with an uncharacteristically motherly tone. "Don't think about heading to that crimson vixen. While you two were allowed your time in the past few weeks, we, out of concern for your wellbeing, have decided to step in and limit the bad influence on your life."

When Iskandar fell flat on his back to start heaving on the floor with howling laughter, Lelouch was tempted to stomp back in and knee the oaf in the nose. But with Saber crossing her arms and urging him on, Lelouch had no choice but to march off to the opposite direction of Maou Nobunaga's room.

Hopefully, this was a one-time thing. But the use of the word 'we' had him on edge.

'Don't tell me… they're all in on it?' He shook his head, not wanting to assume the conspiracy to be true.


Lunchtime in Chaldea was a chaotic affair.

The best cooks (sometimes secretly) of the age would show their skill and charm your tongue in ways unimaginable. On occasion, there would be food fights born from flaring rivalries between Servants. Usually, the kiddos would kickstart them. Still, through conflict and camaraderie of one's taste in gourmet, bonds would be tested and forged. Where one can speak candidly and eat wholeheartedly was a place to always be fun and lively, after all.

It was during those times that Lelouch found most of his enjoyment. The food was great, the company especially was nice. It wasn't like his old home, but that was comparing apples and oranges. He could enjoy both equally.

Though, today was special as the master chef Archer EMIYA was on duty and cooking up a storm.

A wonderful chef to partner with the wonderful atmosphere. If only the various Nobus of the Gudaguda clique of Servants would calm down as they tried conversing/feeding/feeling him up during the meal. It's not that he wasn't used to Maou Nobu's affections. Quite the contrary, he'd come to expect them after they'd formed the habit. It was the various other Nobus that often overwhelmed him.

Try as his other non-Nobu friends might, there was very little they could do to intervene in the carnage that was Nobu hell. And the occasional appearance of a Nobbu hiding under his legs, but that was neither here nor there.

At the very least, not all of the Gudaguda Servants were beset upon him, thankfully.

Chacha gleefully enjoyed her chocolate desserts without bothering anyone. Mori gorged on bloody meat, ensuring not to leave a mess or let it splatter anywhere. The same could not be said with the many Nobus bearing down on Lulu with a spoon or chopsticks holding food from their own plates. It should be noted that said plates were being covertly raided and reduced to nothing by the random Okita looking to get one over the Nobus too busy elbowing each other for his attention. Lelouch cringed slightly when she gave him an approving nod at being such a good distraction that he refused to acknowledge her antics. Lastly, Nobukatsu, contrary to his sisters and family, sat respectfully while giving Lelouch a side glance. Lelouch would give him a grateful nod when he caught the young man looking, though it was often returned with a somewhat silent glare.

Perhaps he didn't say anything because the lad deferred not to ruin the moment? Lelouch wasn't certain, but he at least respected one of Nobu's family to behave appropriately during mealtime.

(Little did Lelouch know that every time Nobukatsu glared his way, it was out of jealousy of the affection the young Ruler was showered with.)

Truly, lunchtime was chaos incarnate. But it was good chaos. Fun even. Which was why Lelouch's smile slowly died, as did the enthusiasm of the many Nobus, when someone cleared her throat loudly behind his back. Obnoxiously at that.

Stood behind him was the scowling yet indifferent expression of a Saber Artoria, Alter this time.

'Why is she even here during lunch?!' Taking in the woman who would've normally been hounding EMIYA, viciously might he add, for more food, Lelouch stood up and tried a diplomatic approach with one of the more volatile of the Artorias. "Is there something I can do for you, Your Highness?"

Her response was to hesitate. Or perhaps it was a bit more of an internal struggle. She looked to him, then to the paper bag in her hands. Slowly, she pushed it into his hands before fidgeting, and by that, he meant really, really resisting, to let it go. But she did, shoving it in his chest and retreating a stride backwards.

"Eat it."

She said, sounding more defeated than he ever heard her before. Then, she took a step back. Then another. Then she about-faced and immediately walked right back into the kitchen. Much to the surprise, or maybe not at all, of everyone present, her loud voice could be heard demanding more food and fast.

Lelouch's eye twitched at the scene before he took a look at the paper bag in his hands and opened it. Hidden within was the sole thing no one expected Salter of all people to give away freely.

A tasty, juicy-lookin' borgar.

Lelouch was sure he heard Emiya faint in the kitchen when the man tried to take a peek his way. Maou Nobunaga stared at him then to the rarest gift history ever saw a Salter give to another. She only had this to say:

"Are you cheating on me?"

"""US!"""

The Demon Emperor ignored the clamoring voices of the other Nobus shouting to be heard. He himself was taken aback by this. All he had was a sigh and quip.

"That would have been a more logical explanation than whatever is the true reason. Seriously, what is going on with—"

"Lelouch..."

"Huh?" Lelouch turned around when he felt a hand brush his shoulder. A Mysterious Heroine X Alter suddenly appeared. Lelouch was confused. Every Nobu was confused. No one had any idea what was going on except for the Artorias. So he swallowed hard and pressed forward. "Yes?"

A balled fist was pushed in his face. Because she was shorter than him, it was just shy of actually punching his nose. Putting an open palm under it, she then dropped something he caught. He was left to eye a single piece of candy before having to look at the blank stare of Berserker.

She was now motioning for him to come closer.

"Er… Here?" He lowered his head but she motioned a little more vigorously. Lelouch's eye twitched again. But he assented and bowed a little lower. "Like this?"

Standing on tiptoes, she met his confusion halfway and reached over to give him a head pat. It was a gentle one but made awkward by the audience around them.

It didn't bother MHX Alter none as she mumbled.

"You are a good boy. I'm proud."

It was a warm thing to hear. But surely, there was a better way to convey such things?! Berserker didn't seem bothered at all, parting with her candy and giving head pats though as she turned to leave. Calmer than Salter, but still just as mysterious.

Left with a crowd of Nobus staring at him and the departed Artorias, Lelouch couldn't help but mumble to himself.

"Did that Vortigern bag put me in some kind of sleep coma?"


The night was a time of rest. Relaxation. A moment to unwind and not be bothered with the stresses of the day. Whether it be through sleep or by some other means of de-stressing was left to one's discretion.

For Lelouch, or rather, his spouse, there was only one way to take one's mind off the many female Servants that had been hampering his day. And that was to be overwhelmed by the desires of another more prominent woman in his life.

Maou Nobunaga was not one to be denied.

She'd not had a chance to enjoy his company for quite some time, on account of all the missions and Lost Belts to deal with. Not to mention the interference from a gaggle of blonde lookalikes. Hence, she'd gone so far as to sneak into his room through the vent, lock and bar the door, before ultimately slipping into Lelouch's sheets to rip all his clothes off in the hottest cuddle session since his arrival to Chaldea. Lelouch was awoken partly naked under the sheets and already accepting that his mouth was to be half-consumed, half devoured by the spiciest snogging a gal from hell could give.

"Mmmm!" A smack went her lips as she pulled away for a second while pulling her husband's shirt over his head. "I missed you, Lulu. Did you miss me?"

"Every day of my life—Mmmph!"

She didn't spare him a moment to wax poetry. She loved the way he spoke romantically, the words he'd weave to get her pumped. But the lust within the Demon King was already riled up, wanting to consume him in a moment of passion. Thankfully, Lelouch was also into it, shutting up to reach over and give her plumpness a slap.

"Aaahnnn! You nasty little brat!" She reeled back a bit, biting his lower lip playfully.

"Want me to stop?" The hunky bastard teased, squeezing her rear where he'd left a mark. Nobunaga, ever the fiery lover, answered with her tongue invading his mouth. She was rewarded by another slap and an embrace that had the two of them rolling around and messing up his bed.

If she had her way, they'd have broken the bed already.

However…

DUN DUN

"Oh, what noooow!"

Lelouch's whining went unanswered for a good second until the door to his room was blown off its hinges with a crash. The barricade Nobu had dropped on it was turned into splinters as a blonde clad in a bunny suit strode in, badge in hand. The realization of who it was had Lelouch scampering for something to cover himself.

"This is the morality police! Hands away from the boy, you shameless vixen!"

"'Shameless'? Heh! Says the slut looking like a cheap cabaret stripper!" Nobu, least concerned with her nakedness, pulled away from Lelouch to challenge the newcomer. "And on whose authority do you try to arrest me? Did Kiara put you up to this, you hypocrite glutton?!"

"Silence, wench! You were allowed to corrupt the naive youth for too long!" Summer Artoria pulled out handcuffs. Where she was hiding that in her bunny outfit, Lelouch didn't dare wonder. "You are coming with me. That boy will have a bright future as king and shall not be ruined by you, you good-for-nothing delinquent!"

"Never! Fuck the police!" Nobunaga screamed before throwing Lelouch over her shoulders and kicking the bed in Artoria's way. Leaping through the smoke resulting from the destruction and chaos, she ferried her husband down the halls bridal style with an annoyed grimace. "Damn woman and her stupid, stupid family!" Said grimace turned into a smirk partnered with a wink as she whispered to her captive partner. "I'll steal Kiara's police uniform later, darling."

Lelouch won't admit he felt excited about that promise. Or about the fact that Nobu carried him away to her reality marble. Because hey, after a long day of being harassed by well-meaning yet confusing women, having a nice time with his wife inside the burning temple with a giant skeleton standing guard was a dream. T'was also a big break from being blue balled by blondes.

Try saying that five times as fast.


'This is getting out of the hand… Now, it's all of them…'

Lelouch collapsed on a sofa in one of the many corridors of their base. Thoughts about all the recent events had him burying his face in his palms as he hid away from any of the iterations of the blonde King of Knights, buxom or otherwise. Hell, even Artoria Lilly was being way too insistent and nice today. He just managed to politely decline the offer to do horse-riding training with her as soon as he noticed one of the Knights of the Round stalking them.

While the most naïve of the Artorias could be innocent, he wasn't going to let himself get caught in another arduous training session led by any of the adult variants.

He groaned into his palms. "Ugh… Why are the Artoria-faces acting like this…?"

"Something on your mind, fellow Brit?" The young man lifted his gaze, expecting another 'empathetic' Artoria to come and hear him out. He let out a sigh of relief and a smile to match Rider Boudicca's own wry grin. "What's the matter? I can lend you an ear to hear you out."

"You don't have to, Lady Boudicca—"

"Oh come now." Sitting down on the bench a respectful distance away, the former Queen of Iceni sat back and crossed her legs. "A child of Brittania is akin to a child of my own. While we may not be of the same time or world, origin matters little to me."

"No, really… It's… It's just…" he heaved a tired sigh again. One that shifted nervously when he felt her hand tap him on the shoulder.

"Think of this as a chance to candidly vent your frustrations. As your elder, I will not push, but I can tell you need to let it out." The way she carefreely placed herself as an older sibling for everyone, especially Servants from Britannia, was put on full display with her warm smile. "Come on. Tell me what worries you so."

And so he did. He mentioned the odd behaviour of the Artorias to their seemingly obsessive need to dote on him so, if not outright control his life in Chaldea. Though a brief summary, he must've conveyed his frustrations well enough that Boudicca was studiously pinching her chin.

"Hm… In short, you believe they're being too overbearing?"

"Are they not?" He groaned in his hands, feeling a little lightheaded. "What makes this worse is that I have no single idea why they are acting this way. Do you have any advice for me?"

"On getting rid of them or making them slow down?"

"I…" Lelouch considered it for a second. "I just want them to take it easy. It's… It's just that I… haven't been cared for in a long time. I've grown used to being the one to care for my siblings. When they started to pull this stunt, I just felt… uncomfortable with it, is all…"

"Then, you don't mind their intentions…"

He didn't, really. It had been a long time since he'd been on the receiving end of such affection. He didn't dislike it. In fact, he'd welcome such kindness over animosity. But there was a limit, of course. It didn't help that such affection was not just being given by one Servant but multiple varying iterations as well as her underlings/compatriots in life. It was one thing to be treated well by King Arthur. It was a load of trouble to be doted on by the Knights of the Round, be envied by Mordred, and spoiled by all the adult versions of Artoria herself thrice over within an hour each. It's like they drew lots on who would care for him, but instead of spacing out their timing over the week, he'd been pelted by their affections for the better half of two days since he got back from Rayshifting. It was exhausting despite it being a break from all the missions.

Boudica nodded and confirmed his woes as he conveyed them to her. "Yeah, well, here's my advice. You ready?"

"Please. I'd welcome an escape to the madness."

"It's pretty easy, Lelouch. Just do nothing."

"Excuse me?"

The Queen gave him a knowing smile. One that, while warm, was meant to ease him into her impartial sisterly advice. "Lelouch, you already realize that all of them are just trying to make sure you are okay. They are worried about you. After everything that happened in the last Lost Belt, the entirety of Chaldea worried about the Servants who were there and the Master. Tesla and Edison are making sure Da Vinci is doing good. Both Lancelots have talks with Mash about her mental well-being every day. And as for Master. W-well," She coughed in her hand with a blush. "Myself and few other… like-minded compatriots… keep him company to make sure he is… satisfied in every way."

It wasn't lost on him, her subtle tact. He didn't mind it. That was her business. This was his issue. "But this is still unusual. Even for a mere check-up from Artorias! I'm used to the horrors and tragedy of war. I don't need their help to deal with it because I'd already been mentally prepared and dealt with such before ever becoming a Servant—"

"Every past king and general in Chaldea has thought the same about themselves, Lelouch." Boudica sighed. "It doesn't mean that they aren't bothered in some way, shape or form. Understand that Artoria—, no. All of them, those who care, are trying to convey their worry as well as their desire to help. Think of their caring side as a familial touch. Motherly love or such. I'm sure you understand."

"Yeah, sure. If I ever had a normal mother to begin with." He scoffed, knowing better than to deny it but still a little confused as to how their actions could convey the intent when they bothered him 24/7. "How was I supposed to recognize it from the beginning? I'd believed my own mother was dead for years before I had learned the truth and resolved to kill her!"

Lelouch throwing his hands up in frustration was rewarded with a passing Nero shooting him finger guns. "Nice, UmU!"

The audacious Roman emperor then slapped his hands in a double high-five before continuing on. Boudicca could give the passerby only the briefest of frustrated sighs.

"W-well, know that their genuine affections will not lead to the same conclusion as your late mother's. While it may come off as persistent and careless, this is not just a new experience for you but the Artorias as well. While you aren't used to having a motherly figure so late in your life and the Saberfaces never had a kid they truly doted on like their own—"


Somewhere in the Chaldea, a certain Knight of Treachery suddenly felt the urge to cry. She bit back the tears and swung her sword down on her mock target that just so happened to have Lelouch's photo taped on the head-part.

She crushed the target with ease but swallowed her frustrations down as she greeted the rest of the Knights of the Round to join her in the training room.

Yet again, her father was nowhere to be seen.


"—in any case, Artoria just wants to show she cares. Unlike myself, that girl has led a far more difficult life as a leader than being a maternal component to a family. It's all duty with her in the past. For her first foray into familial compassion, she's doing better than most, no?"

"… Hm… I guess." There was truth to her words. And while Boudicca may not have had a happy ending for her old life, she did enjoy a time of happiness with her family. More so than can be said for the girl who pulled the Sword of Selection and thereby catapulting her fate away from the life of a wife and mother to one of an ideal king and leader. He could only imagine how hard it was for her to try and show affection when she barely showed any to her own 'son'—


In the distance, within one of the many training rooms, battle cries of frustration and anger could be heard from the brat that wailed on her targets until they were ground to dust. A single tear of her loneliness fell away, disguised as a bead of sweat as her comrades congratulated Mordred on beating her old record for strength testing.


Lelouch's shoulder sagged as he exhaled. "I suppose it isn't as bad as it could be. I just wish this is the last time they come busting down my room door. Can't I have a little privacy in my own space?"

"I'm sure that can be negotiated." Boudica gave a knowing smile. "Just keep in mind, they did all this because they care about your well-being. Even if they don't approve of who you sleep with, that doesn't diminish their love and affection for you, no?"

Lelouch didn't answer, but he had to admit. Maybe it wasn't too bad to have people who thought of you as family. Maybe, juuuust maybe, some of their positive influence would be good for him—

"Hey, junior! I heard these pesky Saberfaces were annoying! Where are they?! I'll cut them all to pieces for you!"

Mysterious Heroine X shouted as she appeared from around the corner, completely doing things on her own to show some love and care while simultaneously taking down the copycats that stole her face.


This omake might exist only because of Nero joke. I'm curious how many servants in Chaldea are actually proud to admit that they killed their parent/parents. Can Lelouch create something like the club "Patricide is Cool",? So many possibilities to consider…but anyway!

Special thanks to ReavesTheReader as always and until the next