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SentinalSlice- I don't intend on having Class Cards be a part of this story, but mana usage in this story will be a bit more lax. Although, it will still be within reason.
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False Prologue V: Bad Element
Twmbarlwm, Wales
Several Months Ago…
In the country of Wales, there was a hill.
It wasn't the most remarkable place to visit, and the damage caused by off-road motorcyclists made it even less popular in recent years. The residents of the nearby town of Risca might tell you about a sacred bee swarm or its importance to the ancient druids, but it was nothing but an ordinary hill. On this particular autumn afternoon, the hill was quiet, as a recent rainstorm had made the area too muddy for any biking.
The only outlier to this peace was the bloodcurdling screaming of an unfortunate Magus.
He was a member of the Mage Association's Sealing Designation Enforcers and had come looking for a high-profile target: Francesca Prelati. He had not been made aware of her full violations of Association regulations, but that was not of concern to him. But despite earning his pedigree by completing Sealing Designations, he was not prepared for the power that would be unleashed upon him.
The Quirk Francesca Prelati had been granted was one of terrifying power. In essence, it was not dissimilar to another that occurred in human history. In medieval Persia, one of the eighteen leaders of the Islamic assassin's order, the Hashshashin, possessed a similar technique. That ability, called "Ichor of Reverie", utilized an extremely precise sonic frequency that would cause a Magus's magic circuits to be scrambled. When an affected Magus would activate their circuits, they would backfire, sending volatile magical energy back into the caster.
Francesca's Quirk did not have the same activation conditions as Ichor of Reverie, but the result was identical. In place of a sonic trigger, the Quirk used a contact-based activator to scramble the circuits. This activator took the form of phantom-like hands, which Francesca could sprout wherever she pleased within a short radius.
The rebounding effect of a misfire was what the Sealing Designation Enforcer was currently experiencing. It was agonizing, and the Magus could feel his very organs being incinerated by the rebounded energy of the potent fireball he tried to cast.
Looking at the writhing man, Francesca lounged on the grass of Twmbarlwm. When the Enforcer breathed his last, she briefly checked for any surveillance spells attached to his person. Foreigner's influence had weakened Zelretch's ability to watch her, but other Magi were not so certain about it. If someone who did not share Zelretch's attitude of minimal interference learned of her plans, it would be quite troublesome.
Thankfully, this Magus had no such hidden spells. Since Francesca already checked for familiars when she led him here, she felt safe to speak to her omnipresent companion.
"I must say, Foreigner, this Quirk you gave me is quite remarkable! The power to disrupt— such a perfect ability for me!"
From beyond the bounds of physical reality, the voice of the Outer God Olkoth echoed within Prelati's mind.
|::| The creation of a Quirk lies in the inherent factors of one's soul… thine origin. Never before have I granted a Quirk to one of fully developed origin… except for thou.
Francesca was surprised.
"Never? You made a whole superpower-filled world and didn't interfere once?"
|::| Mine powers hast been long constrained by the will of mine very universe. With the fabric itself defying mine desires, only the faintest of trickles can be utilized. To meddle in mine World Egg in mine current state would be to consign mine experiment to oblivion.
"So interference would mean the destruction of your artificial world… man, that's no fun! Yog-Sothoth is such a downer!"
|::| The One-In-All is… restrictive, but such is the nature of mine reality. Your mortal comprehensions of hierarchies dost not align with mine own.
"I suppose, it's still totally unfair though!"
The relationship between Francesca and Olkoth was not that of a traditional Master and Servant. Although Masters did wield Command Spells, the purple-colored sigils on her hand were less special. They could not be used to issue actual Commands and served as little more than a link between two existences. Of course, as Francesca didn't care about winning the False War, such a downside was moot.
In most situations, the idea of blindly trusting an Outer God would be utterly ridiculous. But Olkoth was somewhat different from the rest of their kin. Most Outer Gods acted like parasites, lurking in the Saint Graphs of Heroic Spirits such as Abigail Williams or Katsushika Hokusai. But Olkoth, having long observed the World Egg it had created, developed a proper interest in humanity. While it had no qualms about ruining lives, it desired to see humanity persist and evolve. It was almost certain Olkoth had hidden intentions, but it was unlikely they would result in the jeopardization of human existence.
What had brought the two together was their shared desire to experiment. Francesca's experiments with the Holy Grail, and Olkoth's experimentations on entire realities. Unfortunately for Foreigner, the creation of its initial World Egg had drawn the ire of Yog-Shothoth. Constrained by the Outer Universe itself, it was no longer free to create worlds as it pleased.
Until that binding was broken, it could not create the infinite worlds it desired to see.
As Francesca skipped through the grass, she took care to avoid the blood leaking from the dead Enforcer, "So we better break you out so you can really let loose!"
|::| To break free would mean nothing, for mine prison is all-encompassing. Nay, I must become the walls themselves. Bloom upon the gates of the One-In-All.
"Wait, you want to dethrone Yog-Shothoth completely? Wow, that's just incredible! Makes my goal of human advancement seem small!"
|::| Thine dream is not as dissimilar as thine might think. We are but observers of humanity, seekers of a distorted future. Through mine World Egg, I hast granted you the hands of my inverted garden. Now thyself must ensure the completion of our desires— until the way is wide enough for mineself to follow. To bloom upon even one direction ensures a silence in the time ahead.
Francesca frowned, "So, when we move the False Grail… you'll fall silent?"
|::| For a time. When the True Grail doth come to mine own womb, mine eyes will fall upon thou once again. Such is the contract. Such is the word of an Outer God.
As Olkoth had described, it fell silent not long after Francesca finished her preparations for the False Holy Grail War. After murdering Orlando Reeve, she captured the Homunculus Fillia and infiltrated the False Grail's evocation site. With all the pieces in place, Olkoth transported Prelati and her underling to its created world and ceased all communications. She could still utilize the Quirk she was granted, but any attempts to communicate with Foreigner failed.
After setting up the evocation site underneath a high-rise in Nagoya, Prelati set about gathering Masters for her War. First, the heroine Uwabami summoned False Saber, confirming the False Grail's functionality. Francesca then went about approaching various high-profile organizations in Japan and inducting them into the False War.
Finally, the summonings began in full. There was that minor hiccup with False Assassin, but the summonings of the others went successfully. All that remained of the first phase of Francesca's plans was the summoning of the True Grail. When the primer was completed, it would harken Olkoth's influence back upon the world. Then, and only then, could her and Foreigner's plans truly begin.
Nagoya, Aichi Prefecture
Day 2, Evening
"Don't forget to get me more snacks tomorrow, Sigma!"
The emotionless black-haired boy who was currently holding a broom, nodded, "Of course, Ms. Francesca."
She gave a bubbly grin, "Hmm-hmm! Such a loyal boy you are!"
Sigma's expression remained empty, "Thank you, Ms. Francesca."
Carrying the pieces of the trashed table out with him, Francesca was left to her own devices. Sitting in a purple bean bag in the corner of the room, she pondered about her plans with Foreigner.
'First, is sublimation and resonance with the Grail in Fuyuki, so that Foreigner will properly manifest. Once that happens, I'll be taking a backseat until we reach day seven. Then, finally, I can make my first attempt at that elusive labyrinth! The first step towards magic's end!'
Standing up, the girl laughed, "Just you wait, Zelretch! Just you wait, Alcatraz! I will sever the path to the Root so that those last vestiges of the Age of Gods can rot and die!"
Cackling, Francesca felt a sense of invigoration. The steps were all in place. In a mere five days' time, Francesca could potentially grasp the chaotic world she desired. But her revelry was interrupted by the small buzz of her familiars in her senses.
'Ah, right. Berserker was fighting that troublesome pair of Karture and Avenger. I do wonder how he's faring. I suppose I better have a looksie.'
With a nudge of her magic circuits, Francesca linked her senses to her familiars in Deika City.
'It seems the battle is still going on. Although that Berserker did put up a fantastic fight against Arty herself once, so I guess it's to be expected. Still… maybe the second day isn't so boring after all!'
Detnerat Building, Deika City
Day 2, Morning
"To think our force would be overwhelmed in such a way, and with Berserker present to boot…"
Sanctum shakily wiped his brow with a small handkerchief. This sort of situation was fortunate for their plans. They had, of course, expected powerful opponents in the Holy Grail War. However, this "Jester" and "Avenger" were not the sort of enemies they expected to face on the second day.
As Skeptic furiously sent orders to the retreating MLA from his laptop, Trumpet turned to their leader, "Sir, should we use a Command Spell? The way the battle is now, Berserker may lose."
Staring out the window, Rikiya Yotsubashi's face was cold and calculating. Similar to his executives, the Grand Commander of the MLA was unsettled by the present battle. Since the founding of the MLA, Re-Destro and his predecessor had not been afraid of taking losses. The battle for Meta Ability Liberation was never going to be a bloodless one. Yet, even Re-Destro had been unnerved by the sight of Jester's devastating wind attack. His calm facade had begun to crack, ever so slightly.
"Very well. It will be detrimental to our plans to expend a Command Spell this early, but I agree we have no choice."
Berserker was an asset the MLA could not afford to lose yet, but there was another reason for Rikiya's assurance. Although Rikiya was only guessing, there was a possibility "that" Noble Phantasm to be the edge they needed to survive against this so-called "Avenger" and its Master.
"By the power of my Command Spell… Berserker, draw your sword and destroy the enemies before you."
Deika City, Aichi Prefecture
Day 2, Morning
Even for a Heroic Spirit, the oncoming jaws of the serpent Apophis would normally be an imposing sight, but in the case of False Berserker, there was not a hint of fear in his stance. While some degree of his state was due to Mad Enhancement, there was more to it. Even when bound by the chains of madness, the Knight of the Lake knew his mission: to defeat his enemies and survive. Being a Berserker would not change the core of his origins as a Heroic Spirit: the Knight of the Lake, Lancelot.
Just before Avenger's maw could swallow him whole, Berserker shot his arms out with superhuman speed and grabbed the serpent's jaw before it could clamp down. As Avenger's mass pushed against his own, the armored Servant dug his heels into the street. Unable to handle the force, the asphalt of the street cracked as the two Servants slowly slid to a halt. As they came to a stop, Berserker's muscles surged with power. Hoisting Avenger into the air, the knight threw his opponent into a nearby set of houses. While the attack dealt no injury to Avenger, the statement was clear: Berserker wasn't out of the fight, even if the tide of battle was against him.
Nearby, Jester watched Avenger and Berserker clash. Despite the underlying excitement of a battle between Servants, the vampire felt slightly bored. Looking over his shoulder to see a few MLA members trying to sneak up on him, Jester transformed back into the form of Chitose Kizuki. As "she" activated Landmine, the MLA members yelled in surprise before quickly meeting their end. As the Dead Apostle breathed in the putrid smell of smoking flesh, he sighed. Even though Chitose's Quirk was fun to use, humans just blew up too easily; the ambush attempt had not satisfied him at all.
Interestingly, Jester's version of Landmine was slightly different from the original. Chitose's version of the Quirk had required physical contact to set an explosion. With Jester's version, there was no such requirement, and it had become all the more lethal as a result.
Jester briefly considered shifting back into his Magus soul and joining the battle, but decided against it. In the slim chance Berserker managed to gain an edge and damage him, the cost of repairing a grievous injury would be detrimental to the plan.
So Jester waited. Avenger's power would be more than sufficient to contain their opponent anyways. Or at least as the battle was now.
Piercing through the cloud of madness, the dark knight heard the voice of his Master echo in his mind.
"By the power of my Command Spell… Berserker, draw your sword and destroy the enemies before you."
Even in his rageful state, the Knight of the Lake heard the order loud and clear. It was time to show his opponent the true strength of Sir Lancelot.
As Avenger moved to strike again, Jester watched curiously as the smoke shrouding Berserker began to wane and its parameters revealed themselves. Having never been a participant in a Holy Grail War, Jester misunderstood that the lack of visible parameters had not been unusual. He knew Masters could view portions of an opposing Servant's stats and skills, but had not known the specifics of it. So when he did not see any parameters for Berserker, he had thought little of it.
Now that the parameters were visible, Jester realized his error.
'He used a Noble Phantasm to hide his parameters?'
Looking closer, Jester noticed the smoke was not actually vanishing. Instead, it was gathering in Berserker's hand. As fae magic sparkled amid the smoke, the light and shadow fused to become an ornate blade.
In its prime, it would have been a wondrous weapon, a sword wielded by an honorable knight. But like its wielder, it was corrupted. It had chains around its guard and was rusted in places. But even in a dilapidated state, the blade had a strength to it. Jester, who held little knowledge of swords, could tell the blade was powerful. However, to Avenger, there was a different feeling, a feeling it had not felt in millennia… intimidation.
Before the serpent could move back, Berserker attacked. In a lightning-fast strike, the dark blade found purchase in Avenger's flesh.
For a moment, all was silent. Then, like a roaring tsunami, Apophis released an ear-wrenching screech of pain.
This should not be possible. Although it was only at D-Rank, Apophis held a skill inherited from Tiamat herself: Nega-Genesis, the power to repel human history and its weapons. Although it would not have nullified Berserker's A++ rank blade, there should have been notable resistance. Instead, the dark sword cleaved through Avenger's scales like butter.
In reality, it was not that Nega-Genesis was not functioning. Rather, Apophis had a conceptual disadvantage.
Lancelot's blade was called Arondight, A dragon-slayer's blade.
Even tarnished by the blood of Gareth and Gaheris, the power within Arondight remained. Despite its corrupted state, memories of Lancelot's triumph over the Dragon of Corbenic were still engraved in the Noble Phantasm. Drawn out by Rikiya's Command Spell, Berserker now possessed a weapon that threatened all who bore the concept of dragon-kind.
Although Apophis existed at a time when the concept of a "dragon" had not yet been truly defined, its nature was undeniable. Now a Servant, whose existences were shaped by human perception, its draconic nature had become even more clear. In a twist of fate, its very moniker of "Evil Dragon" would now be a weakness used against it. A weakness that Berserker could exploit.
Roaring with fury, Avenger unleashed a whirlpool of sand as Berserker jumped back to avoid the retaliatory attack. Although the injuries healed in seconds, Avenger's nature could not stop itself from giving in to its own mindless rage towards the lesser being before it.
Watching his Servant, Jester knew something had to be done. At this rate, Avenger would lose itself to its own wrath. If its Noble Phantasm was unleashed too soon, it would derail the plan completely. He knew this action would anger Apophis, but he had no choice.
'Seems Berserker's Master won't be the only one using a Command Spell.'
With a flash of red light, Avenger felt the pull of the Command Spell. Although it fought against the order, it could feel its own anger and battlelust weakening. As it was commanded to retreat, the serpent mentally roared in defiance.
'Earthborn! You dare compel me?'
Jester responded telepathically as Avenger held Berserker back with another wave of sand.
'You are wasting your strength, Avenger. I wish to enjoy this battle as much as you, but the plan comes first. This battle is getting out of hand.'
Avenger was silent as he swatted Berserker back. With a mental hiss of disappointment, Apophis replied.
'Very well, Earthborn. I will forgive this slight for now. But I will have my desire for battle sated, make no mistake.'
'Oh, there will be battles, Avenger, I can assure you of that. Tomorrow's bait will be too enticing for any Servant to ignore.'
As Berserker rushed forward with Arondight, Avenger exploded in a burst of red sand. For several minutes, the two were concealed from sight. As MLA members began to creep back over, the cloud cleared to reveal that Jester and his Servant were gone. Just before the battle reached its climax, it suddenly concluded.
As Berserker stood, he almost looked perplexed. Lancelot felt the Command Spell expire, as he no longer had enemies in front of him to destroy. Arondight faded back into smoke, as For Someone's Glory shrouded his armor once again.
The MLA moved carefully around the Servant, securing the area and making sure Jester was not nearby. As they worked, Berserker remained immobile.
Ultimately, it was not until Trumpet showed up that Berserker responded in any way. After ordering Berserker to accompany him back to headquarters, the politician glanced back at the heroic spirit. In the time Berserker had spent under their service, he had only shown rage and silence. Yet, as he looked at the knight, Trumpet swore, he saw hints of emotion despite the armor and miasma covering it.
'Could Berserker be… disappointed?'
Counseling Office, U.A. High School
Day 2, Afternoon
"Am I… a bad person, Dr. Inui?"
When Momo Yaoyorozu opened her counseling session with that statement, Dr. Ryo Inui knew there was much for him to do.
Serving as both the Pro Hero Hound Dog and U.A.'s guidance counselor, the lupine hero had worked with all sorts of students on their mental health.
He was not a stranger to working with students whose parents had been killed, whether by a villain or petty criminal. But Momo's situation, a murder in which the student had confronted the killer, was a first for him.
However, Ryo did not balk at the unfamiliar situation. He was the U.A. Student Counselor after all. It was up to him to help guide U.A.'s students through their mental troubles. Heroics, Business, Support, General Studies, it did not matter. Whatever the situation, he was there to help.
Although the session that followed was understandably tense, Inui could not help but be hopeful. Momo was stronger than she gave herself credit for, and they had made remarkable progress in a mere hour. Inui still wanted to continue the sessions, but he had confidence Momo Yaoyorozu would soon learn to overcome, or at least control, the trauma she was handling.
"Well, Ms. Yaoyorozu, it seems we'll need to wrap up here for today. If you don't mind, I'd like you to continue to speak with me again for the next few days. After that, we can decide what to do next."
Momo nodded, "I will, Dr. Inui. Thank you for taking the time to listen to me."
"Anytime, Ms. Yaoyorozu."
Standing up, Ryo went to open the door for his patient. As soon as he did so, a pink blur rushed into the room, capturing Momo in a tight hug.
Ryo stared at the girl who was hugging Momo, "Ms. Ashido, what are you doing here?"
Momo was just as surprised. She certainly was not expecting one of her classmates.
Following Mina's path, Itsuka Kendo walked into the room. Bowing, she spoke apologetically, "Sorry, Mr. Hound Dog, we tried to stop her, but she was just so eager."
Looking at the doorway, Inui was surprised to see a whole group of students standing there. Nearly every student of Class 1-A seemed to be there.
Momo looked at the doorway as Mina continued to cling to her, and questioned, "Huh? What are you all doing here?"
It was her bird-faced classmate Tokoyami who stepped forward, "We heard you were back on campus, and Ashido suggested we all visit."
Inui raised his eyebrow, "So you all came? Don't you have class right now?"
Itsuka scratched her head, "Miss Midnight said it was alright. Bakugo and Todoroki both decided to stay behind though."
"I see. Well, if Aizawa gives you flack about it later, let me know. I'll help Kayama waive the absences."
Ochaco gave the counselor a bubbly smile, "Thanks a bunch, Mr. Hound Dog!"
Meanwhile, as Mina continued to hug Momo, the black-haired girl was on the verge of joyful tears.
"Everyone… you would do this for me?"
Her red-haired classmate, Eijiro Kirishima, gave her a sharp-toothed smile, "Yeah, Yaoyorozu! We all came to check on you!"
Next to him, Tsuyu Asui nodded in agreement, "We were all worried, Kero."
As Mina was finally dragged off Momo by Iida, her classmates smiled at Asui's words.
Only one of them was nervous. Koji Koda looked at Momo with hesitance, his voice as nervous as ever, "Hopefully this was alright?"
Momo nodded as tears at last began to fall down her face. Although she did not speak it, Inui could tell what she was thinking. This selfless action of her classmates had been one of the best things she could have received.
She was a girl who had been neglected by her parents. A child who thought she was unloved, and told she was unworthy. But her classmates, through this visit, had begun to crack through Momo's misconception.
As the girl cried happily, Mina broke out of Iida's hold and captured Momo in another hug, "Don't worry, Momo! We're all here for you!"
Seeing Momo's teary eyes, her flashy classmate Yuga Aoyama sparklingly handed Momo his handkerchief, "Oh~, beautiful Miss Yaoyorozu, please accept this so that you might dry your tears!"
Wiping her eyes with the embroidered cloth, Momo's eyes remained wet from happy tears, "Everyone… thank you so much."
Careful not to bump his tail in the doorway, Mashirao Ojiro took his turn to speak, "Of course, Yaoyorozu. We may have only met you yesterday, but that won't stop us from being your heroes."
Momo blushed at Ojiro's kind words, while Mina's eyes sparkled, her budding romance meter picking something up. Smiling at the sight of a beautiful camaraderie, Inui felt his fears about Momo getting laid to rest.
'Do you see, Yaoyorozu? You aren't unwanted or unloved. Your life has taken a harsh turn, but you will endure because your friends are at your side. You aren't alone and you are loved.'
After giving her classmates time to give their hugs, Inui cleared his throat.
"Class 1-A, I would like to thank you for your selfless actions today. However, I must insist you return to class now. Ms. Yaoyorozu, would you like to join them?"
Momo nodded with a small smile.
"I'd like that, Dr. Inui."
Following her classmates out the door, Momo gave the counselor a bow before leaving. Inui responded with a small wave and watched with a smile as Momo and her classmates departed.
As her classmates continued to shower her with smiles and attention, the ice that had formed around Momo Yaoyorozu's heart began to thaw. After far too long, she was receiving the love she so rightly deserved. Soon, with the aid of her teachers and her friends, Momo would break free from the lingering whims of Kenzo and Mana. It was a period of transformation and evolution. Her heart had faced adversity, but it was coming out stronger. Momo Yaoyorozu was no longer a mere aspirant of the Grail. Master of Rider, she was ready to fight for a wish that would truly be her own.
U.A. High School, Mustafu
Day 2, Afternoon
In another part of campus, the students of Heroics Class 1-B were in the middle of their math period with Ectoplasm, who was currently explaining the problem written on the board.
"...without the parentheses here, you run into the problem of… ah, Shiozaki, do you have a question?"
Lowering her hand, Ibara Shiozaki spoke politely, "Apologies for interrupting, Mr. Ectoplasm, but may I please go to the restroom?"
Ectoplasm nodded, "Go ahead, Shiozaki."
Having gotten permission, Shiozaki stood up and walked quickly to the first-floor women's restroom. Quietly entering, she was pleased to find it empty. Entering the handicapped stall, Shiozaki focused her thoughts.
'Caster?'
Materializing out of thin air was the beautiful servant Caster. After glancing at her rather unscrupulous surroundings, Caster waved her hand, and strands of magical energy flowed around the stall.
Caster lowered her hand and nodded, "There. Now we won't have any eavesdroppers."
Ibara glanced curiously at the magical barrier, 'So this one of those 'Bounded Fields' she was telling me about…'
Looking back at Caster, Ibara decided to get straight to the point. After all, she didn't want to raise concerns by being gone too long, "So… did you confirm your suspicion?"
Caster nodded, "Yes. It would seem our theory was correct. Momo Yaoyorozu is indeed the Master of Rider."
"Did you put any new surveillance strands up?"
Caster shook her head, "With you and Rider's Master in such frequent proximity, I cannot take the same risk as I did last night. Saber was able to detect my strings through instinct alone. If Rider is capable of the same, it could put you at risk."
"I understand, Caster. However, I must ask, please try to avoid contacting me during class. I don't want to give my classmates any misunderstanding on the state of my physical health."
Caster chuckled, "Of course, Master."
The bounded field dissipated as Caster returned to Astral Form. As Ibara headed back to class, she pondered the new information she received.
Although she had heard about Momo Yaoyorozu before, it was simply regarding her being the heiress of the world-famous Yaoyorozu Family. She knew nothing of Momo Yaoyorozu, the individual. Furthermore, it was fully possible her fellow Master displayed a facade to the public. Ibara knew it was inevitable the two of them would someday be opposed in this deathmatch for the Grail, but, for now, too many things were still unconfirmed. However, despite her many questions, there was only one question Ibara needed to answer.
Was Momo Yaoyorozu an ally… or an enemy?
Yokkaichi, Mie Prefecture
Day 2, Afternoon
The day was a bright one, with few clouds blocking the sun's illumination. The apartment, however, was dark, kept dim by a set of full-extended thick curtains that covered the large central windows. It was a quaint accommodation, with a small kitchen and just enough room for the family of four that called it home.
The father of the family was a salaryman. His body lay seated on the couch, his blood staining the upholstery.
The mother was a housewife, whose body Assassin stepped over as he moved into the kitchen to fetch his Master a cup of coffee.
The eldest child of the family was a boy of high school age, who was leaning against a damaged cabinet. His body was torn by a long bloody gash that could be mistaken for Assassin's own handiwork.
As the Phantom of the Opera moved through the horrible scene, he passed the body of the family's youngest. It was a girl who was not even in middle school. Her decapitated corpse lay sprawled out on the floor.
Following the trail of blood, Assassin carried the fresh cup of coffee to his Master, who was lounging in the family's bathtub. The daughter's head floated in the water with them.
"Your coffee, my Master."
Assassin's master stretched out their arm from the blood-tinged water and grabbed the small cup. Taking a long sip, they sighed in contentment. There was an almost erotic tone to their voice as they enjoyed the rush of caffeine alongside the murderous ambiance.
"Ahhhhh… truly, nothing beats coffee after a good day of work. Don't you agree, Assassin?"
"I suppose so, Master. Although coffee was hard to come by in the sewers of a French theater, I must say."
The Master giggled, "I suppose that's true. Did your beloved enjoy coffee?"
Assassin shook his head, "I'm afraid I never learned of Christine's morning routine, although she did seem to be more of the tea-drinking sort."
Assassin's master sighed in faux disappointment, "Ah, tea, really? That's so unfortunate, isn't it, Sadako?"
Turning the head in the bath as if it were a child's bath toy, Assassin's master gave an amused smile at the sight of the girl's terrified final expression.
They gave their Servant a prideful smirk, "Well, at least my beloved is a coffee enjoyer like myself. I wouldn't have them any other way– except if they would marry me, that would make things even better."
Assassin said nothing as he watched his Master drink the last of the coffee. While he observed them, he could not help but be grateful for a Master who matched his wavelength of madness. Ironically, such madness was not a natural aspect of his Saint Graph. Although extremely rare, a Master's distortion could affect the Heroic Spirit they summoned. In a world designated for pruning, a Master of the Waxing Moon Ritual had managed to distort Jeanne D'Arc herself via his single-minded desire for Hell. In an offshoot of the current timeline, Zouken Matou had twisted the Hassan of the Cursed Arm down a path of greater malice. Now, in this timeline, the Master of False Assassin had caused the same distortive effect within the Phantom of the Opera.
In an isolated timeline where he was summoned by an organization known as Chaldea, Assassin would end up as the reasonable sort. But here, his Saint Graph had been distorted by his Master's personality. The version that was summoned had aligned even closer to the maddened monster Gaston Leroux inscribed in human history. In this False War, Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, would be a harbinger of malice. A distorted Servant, bound to an equally distorted Master. With their corruptive influence, the False War would continue to deviate from the expected path and spiral toward the madness they desired.
Toyota, Aichi Prefecture
Day 2, Evening
On the roof of a high rise in Toyota, Jester Karture laughed as he stared out upon the city. The sky was painted with the colors of sunset, as the hours of night drew ever closer.
"Hahahaha! Such tiresome order, such destructible sights. Oh, how I want to see these buildings fall, to hear the screams of terror! I almost cannot wait! The chance to bring two worlds to their knees in a single blow! Such a beautiful thing, so close at hand!"
In Jester's mind, Apophis hissed, 'Reign your desires for now, Earthborn. After you forced your Command Spell upon me, you must not allow yourself to fall into hypocrisy. Our mana must be at its fullest for our plans to succeed.'
The Dead Apostle scratched his neck, "Yes, yes I know. No need to fear, Avenger. That's exactly why we are making a pit stop here. This morning's scuffle with Berserker was plenty of fun, but I could use a refill on my mana. A little bloodsucking and I'll be good as new."
Although Avenger said nothing in response, Jester could feel his Servant's anger somewhat placated. Deciding to ignore Apophis's underlying annoyance, he walked toward the edge of the high-rise.
Gazing out west, Jester could see the distant sparkling of Nagoya's skyscrapers.
'Nagoya…. I know you're hiding there, Prelati. I'll be tearing out your heart just like the Matou girl's, so don't go running off anytime soon.'
But, for now, Jester had a task to complete. He could feel his mana slightly lower than he would have liked. Although his mana production was still sufficient to support Avenger and recharge on its own, a full replenishment took time. Given the urgency of their plans, Jester could not afford to be below 100%.
'I'll need to be careful. I've heard some of these "Pro Heroes" like to work in the shadows, and a scuffle would be detrimental to my intentions here.'
Luckily, Jester could feel no such individuals in the vicinity. It was difficult for him to discern the power difference between a Pro Hero and a civilian, given the gap between them and himself. Thankfully, absorbing Chitose Kizuki had given him just enough of a sense of the difference. Feeling a pinprick in his senses, Jester looked down to see a lone woman walking through the alley below. She was a younger woman, likely having just gotten off a late shift at work. Unfortunately for her, she would never make it home.
Cracking his neck, Jester tipped himself off the edge of the high-rise. If anyone had seen the site, they probably would have assumed him a black company worker who was fed up with life. They never would have suspected he, falling through the air, was the hunter. As he rushed towards the unsuspecting woman below, Jester smirked in anticipation.
'Victim number one… It's time to start recharging.'
The woman, later identified as Noriko Kuchinashi, was the first entry in the urban legend that would propagate Aichi Prefecture. A modern-day "Jack the Ripper" who stalked the alleyways of Toyota, turning them into passages of death. In a single night, as darkness loomed over the city, a dozen men and women would lose their lives to this unknown killer. Even as police began their investigations the next morning, the world's attention became swept up in a different matter.
An event that would be called "The Nagoya Disaster".
The Viewing Room, The Clock Tower
Present Day
Within the starry expanse of the Viewing Room, the eyes of Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg scanned across the endless ocean of time. A small book at his side fluttered as it simultaneously wrote, unwrote, and rewrote itself.
"How troubling… these lines just won't stay constant. This blurriness is unnatural. Seems that Outer God is quite the meddlesome one."
As the pages of the book turned, Zelretch caught sight of various individuals within the pages. His eyes narrowed at the information of a white-haired man in a purple hauberk.
"Seems it's for the best if a Shielder doesn't show up. Galahad's presence would just make things complicated with Lancelot. Oh, what's this… the Hassan of the Umbral Coil? That's an Assassin I haven't seen summoned before. Even so, that line's still not worth pursuing. It has the same problems as the one where Archimedes was summoned in the Archer slot."
Zelretch could feel a headache coming on. No matter what he tried, the lines were a mess. Countless iterations of Apophis destroying the world, and even one where ORT managed to duplicate itself. That was one he particularly preferred to not think about. The thought of multiple copies of the Spider was simply mortifying.
Glancing back at the tome, Zelretch grumbled at the constantly changing image he decided to observe.
"Ivan the Terrible, Queen Medb, and even Amphitrite? This True Rider spot just won't stay constant…"
So focused on his tome, Zelretch almost missed the distinct feeling of a door opening within his domain. While the task of observation may have been tiring, the Wizard Marshal was not so foolish to be unprepared for visitors.
Thankfully, this guest was not a hostile one. Allowing the pages of his tome to slow, the Second Magician's focus was drawn away from the shifting flows of space-time. The wooden chair of the Viewing Room rotated, facing towards the "back" of his domain.
Standing in front of him was a woman Zelretch had met a handful of times before. She was beautiful and pale, with long silver-blonde hair. Her outfit seemed like a dress one might wear to a funeral, if not for the blue adornments and large hole exposing her navel and abdomen. Atop the woman's head was a black crown with black ribbons attached. The woman's eyes were the color of diamonds and seemed to pierce the soul itself. In her hands was an elaborate black staff.
She was a woman said to be born of the fae, holder of all the curses of the British Isles. Known as "Fairy Princess" and "Black Madonna", she was reviled in Arthurian Legend as a traitorous witch. The one who could be considered the closest thing to a "Second Owner" of the lands of Britain.
The Witch Queen of Camelot, Morgan Le Fay.
Upon recognizing his visitor, Zelretch wanted to grimace. Morgan was not the sort to visit casually. If she was here, it was something important— or to collect on the debt he owed her.
"Hello, Kischur."
As usual, Morgan's cold greeting gave none of her true intentions away. In a moment of sadism, the witch of the faeries let the vampire squirm in his seat for a while. She was not here about the debt Zelretch owed her, and honestly, she was considering waving it. Unlike Van-Fem, who undoubtedly milked Zelretch of every cent he owed, Morgan cared far less for such material things. If she was going to collect on a favor, it would be with another favor.
Letting Zelretch's discomfort run its course, Le Fay chuckled lightly.
"Don't worry, Kischur. I'm not going to leave you penniless like Valery will. If you allow me to assist you with your Outer God problem, I will consider our debt paid."
"How did you— oh, Merlin, of course."
Although only Kaleidoscope could allow one to see all manner of flowing timelines, there did exist those with the powers of clairvoyance. Solomon and Gilgamesh, two of the greatest kings of mankind, had possessed the power to gaze across time as well. Merlin's clairvoyance was limited to the present, the dissonance between the world's time and that of Olkoth's World Egg had expanded his sight temporarily. Although it was mere glimpses compared to Zelretch's abilities, the Magus of Flowers was capable of viewing the potentialities of this particular future as well.
"So, what has Merlin seen?"
"Well, likely much of what you have seen. The Spider, Olkoth… it's quite the messy situation, isn't it?"
"Indeed. I have been trying to find an ideal outcome, but viewing the possibilities of those born of the World Egg is challenging. I have been able to discern key players, but determining how they affect the timestreams is difficult."
"So, even the Kaleidoscope has its failings… but I suppose the interference of the Outer Universe does not care for the outlier of True Magic."
"We cannot hope to understand what it means for the Outer Gods to live, much less predict their actions. I suppose it is inevitable. I believe I can avoid any future involving ORT's awakening, but there are much worse possibilities still afloat where Olkoth is concerned."
Morgan turned her gaze from Zelretch towards the walls of the Viewing Room.
"Merlin saw glimpses of that. He said there was a chance even the very skin of Yog-Shothoth could be torn away. A destruction of not one, but countless universes."
"Do you suspect Prelati is aware of this possibility?"
Looking back at Zelretch, Morgan's eyes were even colder, "Francois Prelati is a fool. I gazed upon their heart once, and it made me want to vomit. Whatever their vile plan is, it will be something Olkoth can twist for their own purposes."
"So, what can we do to neutralize Prelati's schemes? Currently, all the timelines seem to diverge towards something favorable for them."
"Merlin believes he has a theory. The problem lies with the manifestation of Jeanne D'Arc."
Zelretch put his hand to his chin, stroking his beard, "The Maid of Orleans… in almost every timeline, she manifests as Ruler. There was a singular timeline that she manifested as a Saber and Himiko was the Ruler instead… but that had the same outcome. Prelati got directly involved and things became disastrous."
"And that is where I come in."
Zelretch looked up in surprise, "Hmmm? What do you mean?"
"As you observed, a selection of a separate Ruler relegated Jeanne to a Saber. But what if there was an interference? What if a rule was added to the Grail that forbade Jeanne's summoning?"
"That would certainly make things better… the problem is always Prelati becoming too involved in the True War when Jeanne got summoned. But to add a rule to the Grail is no easy matter. Only a Ruler… could…"
Zelretch gripped his chair as he leaned forward, "You don't mean to…!"
"I do. I will incarnate myself as a Pseudo-Servant, become a Ruler while still living."
Gazing at her arm, Morgan continued speaking, "With Merlin's assistance, it should be possible. I would need to tie myself to both a Master and the Grail, but that is a minor concern. I already have a Master in mind."
"Still… it's quite a drastic move. If you die as a Servant, the current you will die as well."
"That is a price I am willing to pay. Only a Ruler is linked enough with the Grail to manipulate its actions. There is no other possibility."
Zelretch was quiet for a long moment, "But even if you trick the Grail into making you a Ruler, you'll need a wish. I thought you told me once you had no desires in this world anymore."
"I suppose that is true. The world as it is cannot offer me what I desire. My sister manifested in two whole Grail Wars… and both times, I learned too late. Over the past few years, I began to wonder… what if I had taken part? What would I have said to Artoria?"
Zelretch said nothing, so Morgan continued.
"For so long after Camelot's fall, I was bitter. I wandered the Earth and its Inner Sea, devoid of meaning. But as I did so, I began to change. I am not the same woman the Round Table once knew me to be. I cannot remove my sins from history, but, if nothing else, I wish to apologize. Perhaps, just maybe, the Grail can grant that. A final apology… delivered across time."
Zelretch nodded, "I see… that is a much grander wish than it appears, I will say."
Morgan said nothing as Zelretch continued.
"A Ruler with an aspiration for the Grail… a War with more than just seven Servants… these possibilities are beginning to remind me of a line I saw long ago."
"Perhaps you can tell me about it at some point, after all this."
"Let us hope. Now, what else do you require from me? I know you mentioned a Master?"
"Merlin and I can handle my transition to Pseudo-Servant, but getting my Master will require your assistance. I cannot simply waltz into the Clock Tower, after all."
"It is a good thing I installed that back door to this chamber then. But who might they be? I already have my hands full organizing what to do with my apprentice and the Emiya boy, not to mention the Church."
Hearing Morgan chuckle, Zelretch was puzzled, "Hmmm? Did I say something funny?"
The witch smiled, "You are already helping more than you realize, Kischur."
Zelretch thought for a moment, 'The Church doesn't like Morgan any better than the Clock Tower, and my apprentice doesn't seem like the right fit for her. That leaves only…'
"So you intend for the Emiya boy to be your Master? May I ask why?"
Morgan Le Fay shifted her staff against the floor, "He may be lacking in respects, but given these eyes of mine, Shiro Emiya has a unique disposition to serve as my Master. And with the spare mana I can provide, he should be able to make use of his true power without those disgustingly procreant transfer rituals."
"Yes, they are a rather crude practice, aren't they? But still… a Servant supplying the Master with mana and not the other way around? What a truly backward War this is building up to be."
Morgan smiled, "I suppose it is going to turn out quite interesting. Just make sure to watch the timelines carefully, Kischur, until it's time to play your part."
"You want me to get directly involved?"
"Do you truly think anyone else could hope to contain a partially manifested Outer God? The Grand Servants likely won't be able to manifest within the World Egg."
"But the legitimization effect could…"
"It's too late, Kischur. Jester Karture's usage of the Kaleidosticks has already tethered the World Egg. A timeline will be legitimized, we just have to pick the right one.
"I will still need to be careful. Even if we reach a point where I can safely interfere, something could still go awry."
"Then you better watch the timestreams carefully. It shouldn't be any harder than your fight with Crimson Moon."
"Hhrmm… I suppose. It's still not something I look forward to."
"Oh? Are you becoming cowardly in your old age, Apostle?"
"I'm not even 3000 yet… but, fine. When the time comes, you'll have my assistance. Do you require anything else?"
"No, not yet. Once your business in Monaco is concluded, please bring Shiro Emiya to the Ancient Heart of the Dragon's Tomb."
"The Spiritual Tomb of Albion? I see you've chosen a good spot for your ritual. Very well, I will bring him there. I shall see you soon then."
"Indeed. Farewell for now, Kischur."
In a swirl of magical energy, Morgan Le Fay passed through the skin of the world. Despite not having moved an inch, her coordinates became inverted. It was a skill no human or phantasmal beast could hope to replicate. As a unique existence on the boundary of the Age of Gods, Morgan was capable of walking upon both Earth and its Inner Sea. One who was human, yet also fae.
With her next step, the Witch's feet trod upon the grasses of Avalon, an inversion of the British Isles, cut off from the decay of the world. The flowers and forest were rich with life, constantly invigorated by the endless light of Rhongomyniad. It was a humanless land, and there were no structures except a single tower. It was a place Morgan, under the personality of Vivian, had crafted herself: the Garden of Avalon. The prison of Merlin, which would hold him until the world's end.
As she approached the tower, the flowers at her feet thickened. Befitting his title as "Magus of Flowers", Merlin's power flowed out even while imprisoned. As Morgan reached the foot of the floating structure, purple crystals gathered to form a set of stairs. Despite the inherent enchantments that barred all sin, the tower could not reject a facet of Vivian. Stepping into a chamber, only 100 square meters in size, Morgan saw the familiar sight of Merlin.
Just as she had not changed across the centuries, the Magus of Flowers was as beautiful as ever. If Morgan was "black", then Merlin was "white". He was clad in a spotless white cloak, which he wore over an ornate lavender robe. The incubus's hair was like snow and sparkled with hints of a rainbow's light. The chamber, although still very much a prison cell, was aglow with purple and pink flowers. Sitting on a pile of old masonry in the middle of the room, Merlin looked at Morgan with mirthful curiosity.
"So, how'd he take it?"
"He accepted, of course. I did not inform him you predicted that outcome."
Merlin smiled cheekily, "I may only see the present of this world, but I have gotten quite good at predicting the future. I fancy myself a bit of a Sherlock Holmes in that regard."
Morgan was puzzled, "How do you even know of those books?"
The incubus looked at her with amusement, "I read quite often, I'll have you know. Clairvoyance of the present has the remarkable application of peering into the literary explorations of others. I'm considering spectating some of those 'visual novels' that Japan produces next."
"I should have known you'd use your gift of sight for such mundane things. Next, you'll tell me you're unofficially enrolled in university."
"Oooh, good idea! Let me know if you have any other recommendations!"
Morgan sighed, "You're still just as childish as ever."
"Well, I consider my sanity is doing quite well, considering I haven't been able to woo a girl in centuries!"
"Clearly imprisonment has done nothing to curb your womanizing ways."
"I'm an incubus, my dear Morgan! I'm surprised I haven't become starved for emotions here!"
"Consider that particular enchantment the extent of my charity to you, Merlin. Now, are all your preparations ready?"
"Yes, they are. When the time comes, I should be able to direct the ritual remotely. I suppose my father's blood has its benefits after all."
"Still, it's remarkable it can pierce all the way to the Dragon's Tomb. I suppose you aren't just a useless womanizer after all, Merlin."
Closing his eyes, the Magus began making kissing faces, "Oh! Was that a compliment, my lovely Le Fay? Could you perhaps be falling for me too?"
Getting no response, Merlin opened his eyes before sighing.
"Awww…. she left. I keep forgetting she is nothing like my beloved Vivian. How that woman has entirely different appearances for her various personalities I still haven't figured out. I'd prefer it if she became a bit more buxom in her usual form. Morgan's body isn't bad, but Vivian's curves were simply divine."
Merlin's face took on a perverted grin, "Speaking of fine women, some of the ladies I saw in that Outer God's World Egg were quite the sight. I wonder if I could convince Morgan to get me merch of that "Mount Lady" heroine? She'd probably just ignore me though…"
Stretching, the Magus of Flowers had a wide grin on his face, "I suppose I'll have to entertain myself with the Holy Grail War! We've got quite the assortment of Servants, in any case."
Conjuring forth a chess board, Merlin gazed at the eight unique pieces laid upon it. One by one, he named each one.
An armored knight, holding a sword, "Saber, the child of a monster."
A pikeman with a feather hat, "Lancer, the ruinous dragon."
A woman holding a large bow, "Archer, the Grecian demigod."
A knight in a chariot, "Rider, the whimsical paladin."
A hooded old wizard, "Caster, the lonesome princess."
A skull-masked man with daggers, "Assassin, the ghost of the Opera House."
A muscular horned beast, "Berserker, the black knight."
A chained figure, "Avenger, the serpent of chaos."
Merlin pondered the board momentarily, before nodding to himself, "But this is merely the prologue of the War. I do wonder, what will the timestreams show me when the True Servants arrive?"
Looking out the barred window towards the innocent garden, he whispered with a smile, "Just what sort of story will that be? I suppose I'll just have to find out."
To be continued in Chapter 6: Declaration of War
Servant Profiles: Foreigner
Bio:
Class: Foreigner
Master: Francesca Prelati
True Name: Olkoth
Gender: Genderless
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Stats:
Strength: -
Endurance: -
Agility: -
Mana: -
Luck: -
Noble Phantasm: -
Class Skills:
Existence Outside The Domain: EX
Personal Skills:
Power Bestowment: B+++
World Usurpation (Fake): B
Cultivator of the Twisted Garden: A
Noble Phantasms:
Morwyn Twmbarlwm
Celestial Arcs of Danto, The Hill, and the Virgin Mary
Rank: Unknown
Type: Unknown
