Continuing...

The rain begins to fall, the sound of tapping water rings on the clothes of Assassin as he hunts. His sights are trained on the world, whispers of mana dig through the wind to find his target. "Five...", he mutters. Five places where his wind cannot reach - an underground room, a 'vault' in a tower and three rooms not converted to a monitoring room by Archer's Master.

Beyond that, he felt the cold air of the country. He withdrew from the war and into a state that he longed for - a connected state with the world, a taste of his wish upon the grail. He lifted his hand, smashing his hammer against the hard air - a new divine construct was born, a flare gun. A blazing light lit-up the sky that night, casting the rain as neon streaks. He could now see his target, he fired.

Archer sensed the gaze of a god, moving out of the room he was in. He lifted his riffle up and fired, the shot running through the city and chasing his target.

Assassin lifted his head to the sky, flying upward, firing again. The shot straightened itself and longed for its mark with all of Assassin's heart.

The two continued this dance of bullets as Berserker made his way through the buildings, smashing past the hired troops, chasing after his banisher. For a moment, he forgot his objective and his master could not spare a command seal to hold him back. He continued his rampage with no opposition, tearing through needless lives and relishing each kill. His desire for killing overrode his hunger to kill a heroic spirit - his Noble Phantasm charged, his spears glowing a crimson light.

"A manic monster in the midst of charging his Noble Phantasm", Saber spoke in a curious tone atop a roof, overlooking Berserkers rampage. "That's quite dangerous, are you sure you aren't a witch?" Saber flashed his blade from beneath his clothes, releasing a bright blur of mana.

Berserker, driven by blood and violent rage took a single glance at Väinämöinen and lunged. "Finally", he roared, his spears warping to his hand. "Die!"

Saber glanced at the spear, noting each detail, before lifting his sword to block it at a perfect point. His hand moved with ease, his skill improved by being of the saber-class. Upon contact of the two weapons, a reaction occurred: The spear's anti-heroic nature and the sword's 'good quality' that let it cut a mountain. The sword would shatter to strike down a hero, but it was also forged by a legendary maker of items. Ultimately Väinämöinen was mistaken.

The wise Saber was struck a killing blow, his heart pierced by a spear meant for hounds and kings. His last move of desperation was the use of a skill that had become weak in this manifestation, but "as the first man, I hereby declare: I will not die to a brute like you..." He sang a melody, even as his lungs were collapsing. Berserker attempted to fight him, only to be met with a swing from the man's sword, forcing him to regenerate and giving both the time to heal.

While the strike from the spear may have been fatal to most heroic spirits, Väinämöinen did not meat all the requirements for the full power of the attack. In addition, his use of magic provided him numerous protections from curses. His fight against the witch Louhi provided most of them, so a berserker merely using gifted arms would do no serious harm to him if he went all-out in a weaker class. Even still, his sword could only cut and lacked any destructive power that would be beneficial against Berserker.

So it was time to set everything up, Berserker would take time to recover and Assassin's 'crusade' was making everything all the easier. Väinämöinen was going to release his ultimate Noble Phantasm, an anti-world Noble Phantasm.

Assassin fires, his rounds piercing the city like a railgun and nearly shattering Archer each time. For some time now, he has been pouring his mana into his attacks at a greater rate. His master rests, hiding within a dark place of malice and the ringing of a forge. Again, again, the ringing sound stung in the master's ear, irritation bred in him. Just finish him...! Assassin's head rung with authority, one beyond command seals.

...

The White Death, a semblance of the fear in the hearts of the Soviet Union's Red Army. A phantom spirit, once. It was then adopted into the legend of a sniper in the enemy hands. That malice was piled on-top of more malice, coldness and duty to a nation and its people. A devotion reaching the divine, something no desperate god or spirit could ignore.

In the cold winter of the 1940's, a man lays down in the snow. A wound greater than any could rise from was inflicted on him. His vision was filled with red and his hands left cold as he succumbed to the snow.

I promised him something.

In exchange.

I took on all curses that plagued his soul in the next life.

...

Assassin raised his arms to fire - His body forced to move like a puppet.

Like a single crackling bolt of lightning shot though the city and struck its mark, it should have by all means if anything.

Until the sound of strings sprung through-out the world. The smile of sword-wielding mage shined as he raised his blade. "Now now, let us all calm ourselves. We are heroes of legend after all. Let us not be swayed by the darkness of our master's hearts. Let a melody instead ring and praise our ancient gods. For they would be saddened by such a cold march. Raise your heads and listen to this song."

Assassin stared with horror up at the sky, his core resonated.

Berserker fell to his knees and divinity pulsed down like sudden rainfall.

Archer leaned on his weapon in defiance.

Saber lifted a shining light up to the sky and ripples formed in the sky. "As there are no civilians in the range, I think this is justified." A chorus was rung in the sky as light formed around a single point in space. "In the beginning this world roared like a great white void. A sword cleaved it and gave birth to creation, leaving but a cradle of life in its midst. In life you watch in awe, in death you shall love it. The great white shall now recede, giving birth to a hundred lakes", hundreds of ripples tore through the sky.

Survivors would describe the experience as being like having their bodies crushed under the weight of a great pile of ice.

"Come, [%%%%], Kalevala!"

Pillars of light erupted to cleanse the world of all its evils. All was purified and returned to their own state. The sword held by Väinämöinen shattered like a conduit to wield the power of lightning.

Records of a "Wall of Ice" were erased by the Mages Association and the Church in an attempt to stop the other from finding out anything.

Berserker would be found gravely wounded one-hundred kilometers away from the site of the explosion. Archer and Assassin would be recorded as having survived but left in a frozen state. Saber would disappear from sightings for the next twenty-four hours.

Following this, a resonance rang through the grounds of the battle scarred city. Saber would re-appear, his sword glowing with the life of the divine. "Let's see if that fixed anything..."

The mages stationed there were filled with dread as he walked past them, guiding their attacks away from him by song. He took in the sight, most of the damage was un-done and the two servants he froze were emitting highly dense mana. He made his way to the most important one, Assassin. "I tried to warn you, all you had to do was act your station and behave. And technically, I out-rank you...", he layed his hand on an old friend. "We had fun, didn't we? Chasing around a dumb rock, and we didn't even know who we were..."

The cracks form in the state of frozen time, the breathe of the planet flows from below the textures of the world and return to the Spirit Liner. "I can't believe you would use something like that on me", the voice of a god rung through the body of Väinämöinen as he flinched and stepped back. His guard rose as Assassin burst out of the ice and began to strike at Saber.

"Let's calm down, alright?"

"I may be under orders from a tyrannical and self-obsessed master, but that does not mean my desire to see you punished is gone."

"You're such a drama queen, I didn't even hurt you. One would think you'd enjoy getting a glimpse of retirement", Saber moved away while being hunted by the angered god. "You might be a divine spirit, but that does not apply for this era. Our time has come and gone!"

"We didn't even get to see that time! We were stripped of our authority and placed under rules that we did not approve of!"

The sound of gunshots pierced the air and struck Assassin. "Put down your weapon and I assure you will live another day." Archer pushed himself forward, his spirit origin seemingly sundered of holes and leaks. His strikes were enough to bring down even the Berserkers if one would judge him purely on the output of mana.

"Well it seems both of you are in good health-", the voice of the Saber was cut off by nonsensical shouting from Archer and Assassin. Like bickering brothers who finally agree on something, they hurl insults at the defeated Saber. From Archer's perspective it was a terrifying few hours of running away from phantasmal beasts, gods and fey. To say less, it was something no human should experience more than once. Saber whined, "I understand you might be a bit sore from your trip, but let's cut me some slack..."

"No", a united voice spoke to him.

"Well then, I guess we just have fulfill our wishes..."

The two bickering servants were blind-sighted by their comrade's change in attitude before finding themselves met with a blade glowing like the morning sun on the surface of a lake. Assassin grafted a shield of wind and Archer dodged a thin slash to center mass.

Like a sparrow pecking at a worm, the sword swept across the city to catch the two servants. What once was a battle of a melee fighter against a pair of snipers was now one where the gunmen were being hit with artillery battery.

The two men were placed on their back-feet as they periodically fired shots with renewed vigor and mystery.

"What are you doing", the two masters of their respective masters shouted in each's mind. "Why is it the next day?"

The servants lacked time and focus as they faced waves of mana coming at them faster than sound. Cracks of lightning rung as the wind was split by light and flame, slicing apart the buildings.

Through the duel of bullets and swords a message was sent to the masters, "This battle has turned for the worst."

Saber only had to play a tune from time to time, giving him time to enjoy himself with party tricks. His enjoyment was something he had been longing for, his sword's legend was not particularly helpful for its power before the use of his noble phantasm.

An anti-world noble phantasm that transports those hit to a simulated reverse side of the planet. The Kalevala ended in Väinämöinen leaving the world, to the reverse side. Though he never reached it, his legend said he would one day return to protect his home. This Noble Phantasm incorporates his mother's myth into it, recreating the events that created the land of lakes. This combination forms the basis for this Noble Phantasm, forming a white wall of mana that transports the heroes of myth to the reverse side before returning them to a restored land. The side-effect of such an action cause the Heroic Spirits to be recharged with mystery from the age of gods. It is not an indiscriminate transportation of spirits, but one that can be targeted and leaves all others to be hit by the full force of a thousand kilometer wide ice-sheet. Only thanks to Berserker's endurance enhancing abilities was he able to only be sent a few hundred kilometers away.

Now with that kind of power, the might of Assassin was becoming apparent as he was given an opening to activate his Noble Phantasm. "Behold to a hundred dead in the snow, seeing the futility of violence", the surge of white snow cleared away all else in Saber's vision as a howling wind pushed at his eyes. "Valkoinen Kuolema Talven Sodassa."

Archer watched as the world became snow and ice, though he was left untouched. This world let him move like a flake of snow in the wind, improving his chances of dodging Saber's attacks. If only he were not also hunted - gunshots rung through the snow filled city as shadowy figures stared at Archer through the snow. He was forced to a halt from the siege, forced to now focus not only on Saber's unrelenting slashes, but the mysterious gunmen surrounding him.

Assassin continued his chase, his phantoms would hunt down all his enemies in the massive bounded field. In it, he could sense the location of all his 'targets' and allies while also summoning numerous phantom spirits to fight those 'targets'. The manifestation of the Winter War fought in 1939, the massacre of soviet soldiers by the Finnish snipers. A Noble Phantasm perfect for killing numerous targets, allowing Assassin to shift from an anti-personnel Assassin to an anti-army Assassin. Still, he felt the odd presence of Archer in the field, like a body-part drifting off.

Saber only kept attacking as he could not make out his enemies in the storm, being attacked from all sides with gunfire and needing to hit as many areas as possible to stop Assassin from approaching. "Archer would be easy enough, but with Assassin using this...", he felt the scenario had been tilted to very one-sided slaughter, if not for his use of his Noble Phantasm.

This battle would not end in a fast winner, not like Greece or Scotland or the Vatican. Saber must stand firm and ruthlessly kill his enemy; Assassin must swiftly end Saber; Archer must survive a battle between mythological figures as a lone sniper.