Fate/ Series FanFiction Discussion

[Tiresias]

Originally Posted by Moczo

Wow. I leave for a few days and the FFT goes to such wonderful and amazing new heights of discussion and literary creativity!

Oh. Wait. No. It's the other thing... what was it? I go away for a few days and the FFT goes absolutely nowhere at all.

Ah, well, let's see what we can do about that.

Spoiler for Chaos Theory, Chapter Five:

Chapter 5: Hurricane

To call it a mismatch would have been a laughable understatement.

On one side, a Magus and a sorta-Magus. Of these two, Rin Tohsaka could barely even see straight and Shirou Emiya was armed with weaponry consisting of a harder-than-average stick.

On the other side, Rider. The scent of blood filled the air just from her presence. She seemed part of the darkness; like liquid night poured into a human skin. Her every motion held a graceful, deadly beauty like a hawk in flight. Anyone with eyes could tell that she was something that was simply beyond humanity. Perhaps not as deadly a combatant as Saber, but certainly far, far more than any mortal could face.

So yes, it might have seemed to the casual observer that perhaps one side held a slight advantage in this confrontation.

When Rider moved, Shirou could barely see her. As before, she seemed to blend with every single shadow she touched, almost becoming part of the background she so seamlessly vanished into them. And her speed was, of course, impossible. Unimaginable. Even with raw adrenaline gushing through his veins and his reaction time amped up to far greater than normal, Shirou very nearly died to her first strike.

She didn't come at him from the front; he had no idea how, but she looped around him in the space of a second and struck at the side of his neck, her hand held flat as if to spear him through the jugular. He snapped his improvised weapon into the path of her hand, and it snapped despite his reinforcement, but it held her back for just enough time for him to...

One of her twin nails, swung behind her charge and just now catching up, speared him in the side, lodging between two ribs. The shock and pain disoriented him, and he could taste blood in his mouth and realized that was a very bad sign. He had little time to ponder it, however, as Rider then proceeded to swing him directly into a tree with bone-crushing force. Literally. Shirou could hear the bone break inside him, and hoped it wasn't anything he needed to live...

Ha. Live? What am I worrying about that for? He wondered deliriously, watching Rider begin to walk . She was coming for him, and he could already see it, in his mind's eye, those teeth sinking into his throat. Shinji had no mana, after all, so she wouldn't waste even a talentless Magus when she needed energy so badly. I need to get out of here... He thought, still trying to focus his mind enough to actually accomplish this. His limbs felt like jelly, there was no way he could possibly stand up on his own power. He tried anyway, the edges of his broken bones and torn muscles sending fresh shocks of agony through him at the futile effort, and the Servant was only getting closer...

Rin Tohsaka watched this, and she wasn't thinking anything so silly as that. Her own mind was beginning to clear somewhat, and she saw Emiya clearly on his was to becoming the Servant's latest meal. He saved my life. Again. And... more to the point, I need his help to get out of this mess. She slid something small and brilliant from her sleeve, a tiny, magnificently cut gemstone that glowed with an inner fire. There was an A-rank spell held in there, and she doubted Rider had the kind of magic resistance that had allowed Saber to shrug off her gems. If she could land a direct hit on the head or heart, she might even be able to kill Rider here and now. Tensing her arm, she prepared to throw...

"Rider, behind you." Shinji said calmly.

Without looking, Rider threw the other end of her weapon at the downed Magus. Rin had enough presence of mind to roll, letting the weapon impale itself in the ground instead of in her face, but her shot was ruined and now Rider was focused directly on her. Dammit... Shinji really does ruin everything!

"Ah... unlike the other, this one actually has some magic worth being cautious of. But the other is a better target... I wonder which I should destroy first?" The violet-haired Servant asked.

"Either. Both. As long as they bleed." Shinji said with dark satisfaction, sweat running down his brow freely. She knew it was petty, but Rin felt a dark burst of glee. Well, at least the Gandr curse is taking hold. Enjoy spending tomorrow in bed throwing up blood, jackass...

Rider stood, one 'nail' in each hand. "As you command, Master." she said calmly.

Damn... Rin said. Rider was going to send one spike for each of their throats, and there was not much Rin could do about it. She wasn't sure she had the speed in her at the moment to dodge, and Emiya couldn't move, and a counterattack while Rider was prepared would do little but make the Servant focus only on her...!

Rider snapped her wrists, one blade flying toward each of the two humans at near-bullet speed...

And the world froze.

An aura descended upon the park, an all-consuming feeling of rage and blood-lust backed by a power as implacable and unyielding as a mountain. It was not only a matter of magical strength... beyond that. A sensation, primal and terrible, that flooded the consciousness of everyone in the area, even Rider; the feeling of a rabbit that has been cornered by a wolf and is about to be ripped apart, helpless and terrified.

Rider drew back in her chain blade before the attack had gone more than a foot from her hands and leapt for safety out of some primitive survival instinct. Something huge, dark, and horrible leapt into the space between her and Shirou Emiya, striking at her with enough force to leave the ground where she had been standing gouged five feet straight down.

Landing nimbly on her feet, her weapon coiled around her like a python, Rider stared at the scene in open fear. That attack would have split her in half had it connected... and judging by the power of the being she saw before her, it had been little more than an offhanded gesture.

Shirou looked up at his savior. And up.

And up.

It was a Servant, there was no doubt about that much. But to call this thing merely a 'Servant' seemed the equivalent of calling a wolf just a 'dog' or a tiger just a 'cat'. There was no beauty, there; not Saber's holy purity, or Rider's deadly grace, or even the somber dignity of Archer. Two meters tall, at the very least... muscles so massive and corded they bordered on the grotesque... bronze skin and inhuman red eyes... all of these things were discomforting enough. But more than anything physical, this creature was horrifying because of the aura it exuded of sheer, mindless, impossible power. Like nothing Shirou had ever seen or even dreamed of in his blackest nightmares, like watching an earthquake or staring into an oncoming hurricane, frozen in fear and awe by the unimaginable destructive potential and the prospect of certain death.

Rider, seeming so deadly mere moments ago, was rooted to the spot in fear. She understood better than anyone else present the nature of the sensations she felt, the type of creature that stood before her: if she attacked, she would be crushed in a single stroke. Even if she took no offensive action and acted solely to preserve her own life, she would most likely not be leaving this park alive if that giant decided it wanted her dead. Rin, jewel still in hand, was shaking so hard she could not even consider actually using the muscle control needed to throw it. Even Shinji, who had all the magical instincts of a stump, seemed to be instinctively aware that his life was most likely about to end; his eyes were wide, his mouth frozen in a rictus grin of sheer horror.

A Servant? No. This was a destroyer. A being wholly specialized for the obliteration of life. It had no purpose but to choose a target and attack, attack, attack with relentless fury and unstoppable force until that target was nothing but wet meat on the ground, and then to choose another target, and another, and another, until there was nothing around it but death.

So why the Hell had something like that saved him, exactly?

He would not be learning the answer to this that night, however, as the black giant threw back its head and roared, a sound that shook the earth. Shirou could feel his broken bones vibrate painfully and winced. And with that roar, Berserker charged.
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Berserker was not a protector. He was a killer, and had no other purpose. He could protect, in a sense, as he protected Ilya; by destroying everything in the area with the slightest hostile intent towards her, until she gave him the order to stop. And so he would do such with the boy she had ordered him to defend. And as there was not one thing in this park that had not showed hostility towards the boy during the time Ilya and Berserker had been observing the battle, Berserker would kill, and kill, and kill, until there was not even one living thing standing to harm his protectorate. Ilya had not given him orders to the contrary; she cared only for the boy's safety, nothing else. There were three moving things within the field of his senses that had presented a threat to the boy. All three of those things would die here.

The greatest threat, the thing that stood out the most against the violent red mist that was Berserker's mind, was the Servant. So he attacked her first. She was quick, and agile, but Berserker's speed was a match for her. She leapt into the trees, but they shattered like toothpicks to the swings of Berserker's monstrous weapon. The only problem was his size... he needed to break those trees to move, but Rider did not. She could pass more quickly, gain distance. But she could not stop dodging, could not counter at all. Her attacks were less than fleabites, her defenses no more use than wet cloth. All Berserker needed to do was keep her in range long enough to land even a single blow. A single blow would be enough to end this 'battle', and it was only a matter of time until that blow landed. Berserker just needed to keep swinging. They would, eventually, run out of trees to get in the way...

There.

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Rin was not entirely sure what she should be doing.

The battle between the two Servants sounded like a lunatic woodchipper. The space among the trees was as black as pitch; the only way to tell where they were was by following the sounds of shattering wood and the occasional roar of the giant.

So what should she do about it? Archer was on his way, but... she was not confident in his ability to halt that monster. Perhaps she should just flee? But... Emiya had saved her life. She couldn't leave him here with that thing, right? She owed him. But using anything but her entire stockpile of gems against that thing would be pointless; her normal magic would be no more use than trying to browbeat it into submission with a severe scolding. Could she really afford to give up her best weapons just to help Emiya? Yes, he had saved her, but didn't she have her own life to consider too? There was a War going on, and...

Something limp and black was hurled out of the woods like a rag-doll, taking the choice out of her hands.

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The space between the trees had been too large.

This was a park, the trees were not all close together. It was simply Rider's poor luck that she chose a path that lead to a clearing large enough for Berserker's body to fit without smashing any. She took the wrong path, that was all. And when she did, Berserker closed the gap. It was really all over once that happened. Rider was still a Servant, of course, and knew she was about to be struck; she twisted her body out of the way in midair, and defended with her own weapon.

This kept her from being sliced completely in half at the waist, but not by much.

Sent flying, limp and broken, the Servant slammed into the ground with bruising force and skidded to a halt. She was still technically in one piece, still alive, but she would not stand again. It was not a question of power or mana, but of structure; her abdominal muscles had been completely shredded, the only thing holding her body together was her spine. Attempting to stand would cause her to break in half, Servant or no. Her legs flopped uselessly, and she coughed up blood.

She was still alive, and so Berserker's blood screamed at him to kill her even as her own Master screamed uselessly for her to stand and defend him. It would be simple to finish her. A single blow; just one more blow would finish her off.

But no. There were more important matters for him; his Master's command, the only thing that could overcome the Servant's natural blood-lust even temporarily.

'Protect the Boy'.

He had protected the boy from the Servant well enough, she was no longer a threat and would not heal any time soon. The priority, the closest thing to a thought he could have, was the impulse to deal with potential dangers, and the greatest danger now present was the girl with the shining magic jewel in her hand...

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Rin saw Rider fall to earth like so much useless meat.

She heard Shinji panic, screaming at the woman to rise even though anyone with eyes could tell the wounds would not allow it.

And most of all, she saw the black giant turn its eyes towards her, and all other thought was torn away by the knowledge that she was about to die. Rider was a Servant, and even she had been helpless against that thing; how could Rin possibly have the slightest hope of success? Escape was impossible, victory was impossible...

Shinji continued to wail at his fallen Servant, berating her for her uselessness. The Command Seal caused her visible pain as she tried to obey despite the limitations of her broken body.

Well, that decides that, then. Rin thought. She planted her feet and flipped another pair of jewels to her hand, leaving her holding three. Maybe she could at least do some real damage before that thing took her apart. If she was going to die, she would go out with some dignity, not whimpering like a beaten dog. She was a Magus of Tohsaka, and if nothing else she could die well.

The giant charged; fast, impossibly fast, she probably wouldn't even have time to fire but maybe she could detonate the gems while it was on top of her and ripping her apart and...

Something red pushed leapt between her and the giant. It couldn't have been fast enough to react. It had to have simply been moving in that direction before the giant had even started its rush, assuming that she would be next. Archer...? She thought in dazed hope. But no, the wrong shade of red, and...

Shirou Emiya stood before her, his arms raised as if to use his own body as a shield.

Rin would have found it rather sweet if it weren't the single stupidest thing she'd ever seen in her life. For starters, that thing was just going to stomp over him, he was no shield at all. Also, how was even moving? Hadn't he been too hurt to stand? The incongruity of the situation nearly made her laugh out loud, if she weren't painfully aware that it had been almost half a second since the monster had charged and the axe-sword was already descending...

And stopping?

What the Hell?

The giant stopped in its tracks, its weapon halted roughly an inch away from Emiya's face.

Shirou's eyes widened in confusion. He had... well, sorta been expecting to be dead at this point.

"Um... huh?" Rin said. She couldn't help it.

Berserker, with the air of a gorilla lifting a kitten, placed its hand delicately around Shirou's waist, lifted him bodily as if he weighed no more than a feather, and softly deposited him several feet away. The scene was surreal beyond imagination; Shirou was so shocked he didn't even think to struggle. Even Shinji fell silent.

Then the giant turned back to Rin, and she was reminded that she really, really should have run away. The creature raised its arm...

And something long, silver, and sharp slammed home, impaling it through the chest.

"Get back, Rin!" Archer commanded, firing his next projection. The first had not hit the heart, it wouldn't have taken a life, but it at had at least pierced the skin and gotten the monster's attention. The next shot might... be batted aside uselessly. Ah, well, he'd known this wouldn't be easy. Saber rushed past him, to place herself between Berserker and her own Master, holding her sword at the ready and staring on the Destroyer with no fear.

Archer was confused by that. His eyes had seen things very well before he'd found a good position to attack, and he'd seen the way Berserker had been behaving around Shirou. Despite several opportunities, the giant Servant had not killed the boy. Why not? It was not as though he couldn't imagine Ilya sparing him... she had done so in his own life, after all. But it had been after they'd bonded somewhat. She'd seen him dive in front of Saber on that first night, and been so shaken by his selflessness that she had become interested and...

Wait.

First night. Shirou's... his... first night of the War, Berserker had not attacked!

He had not been entirely lying to Rin when he said his memories were clouded, though more by time and trauma than by anything she had done. He forgot the subtle things, the nuances... he remembered the War, the events, he just forgot how those things had made him feel. He could recall Saber's smile, just not the way he'd felt when he saw it. He remembered Rin blushing because he'd said something foolishly noble, just not how flustered that had made him in turn. All of the events were still there, but for all the emotional impact they had on him, he might as well have been watching a movie of someone else's life. All it did was make him feel even more bitter, like even the tiniest little joys were lost to him now.

But he remembered the events just fine. He remembered leaving the Church, though he couldn't recall why he'd been so rattled by Kotomine's pretentious yammering. He recalled the black giant and the white princess on the hill, though he could not remember the taste of the fear he'd felt at the sight. He could see the silver knight bleeding in the streetlights in his mind's eye and knew he had dived to save her, even though he couldn't recall why he'd felt the need to do so. And then so much blood...

How could he have not noticed when such a major event didn't occur? How could he have been so preoccupied with thoughts of the War and his real objective that he hadn't even considered the simple fact that Berserker had not attacked! So early, and yet this timeline had already shifted from what he remembered... had something happened between the boy and Ilya, without him noticing? This could be a problem, if it meant that girl was now between him and...

"RRRRRRRAAARRGH!"

Okay, now probably wasn't the time to worry about it.

He let the arrow fly, watched it dig into the giant's arm as Berserker charged, and projected a new weapon, a two-handed broadsword that gleamed with a sickly red light and projected an almost palpable aura of malice. Kanshou and Bakuya would be basically useless against this thing, so he'd have to dig deeper into his arsenal, pick out the worst of the worst; hitting Berserker was simple. Piercing that skin was the hard part. Okay... let's get the timing down perfectly, split second...

Luckily, what Berserker possessed in raw power and speed was made up for by it being generally as dumb as mud. The slash could not have been easier to anticipate, it just came so fast he almost mistimed his dodge anyway and felt a few particularly tall hairs get sliced off. Of course, since he brought his newly projected blade through and slashed out the tendons on the backs of both the giant's legs, he considered that a fair trade. He tossed aside his sword, now useless having pierced the thing's skin even once, and projected a new weapon, a shining golden blade as beautiful as the last weapon had been ominous, and brought it around in a ruthless stab through the thing's spine. Is that enough for one life? Can't be sure, but even if it is it won't slow him for...

The monster, his spine severed, somehow managed to twist his body, bringing that horrific axe around so fast Archer could barely even perceive it in time to abandon his stuck blade and project a new weapon for defense. He had no time for anything but Kanshou and Bakuya, and they were...

... useless. The weapons shattered, and Archer was sent flying by the impact, rolling uncontrollably several times before managing to find his feet. Berserker was standing too, Godhand having already repaired the damage to his spine. Archer, on the other hand, was painfully aware from the shooting agony up his left arm that his own wounds were not so well off. All I did was block, and the arm is broken... your Servant is just as much of a monster as I remember, Ilya. He thought grimly. "Rin!" He snapped. "I told you to get back!"

"E-eh?" Rin said. "R-right! Hold it here, Archer, and get away as soon as I'm clear!" Rin said, turning to clear the scene. Berserker, his attention thoroughly diverted at this point, did not follow.

Archer raised his remaining arm and projected the heaviest one-handed sword in his arsenal. He had one working arm, his vision was a little blurry, he was fighting Hercules, and the one person he actually wanted to kill was safely under his Servant's watchful eye where Archer couldn't get him without fighting Saber and Berserker two-on-one, suicide by anyone's standards.

Archer smiled. And yet, still not the worst situation I've ever been in.
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Shinji's world was falling apart.

He had been so certain. So secure in his superiority, and in the space of not even twenty minutes, he had been firmly disillusioned. His Servant, that worthless, useless thing, was lying on the ground dying. The monster that had bested her so effortlessly was being faced and even matched by Tohsaka's Servant, just Tohsaka herself had defeated him... he could feel the curse burning in his blood, making his skin pale and his muscles weak. Even Emiya... Emiya! That nothing that animal that meaningless insect!... was giving a better accounting than the heir of Makiri!

"Dammit, Rider!" He screamed, his throat beginning to burn from the constant shouts. "Get up! You're a dog, so obey your Master!"

Shocks ran through the near-lifeless thing as she tried to respond despite her inability to do so. She could not stand, but she was compelled to, and the contradiction was tearing her remaining life to tattered threads...

Observing through the eyes of another, the old Magus sighed. Useless. Zouken thought. Ah, well... if he cannot appreciate my gifts, I suppose he does not deserve them. Take it.


Responding to the old man's command, the insect familiar perched on the nearby tree took flight. Shinji watched in confusion as the thing landed on his book; he knew instantly that it was no natural creature, and for a moment was filled with hope that his Grandfather had actually come to his aid.

Then the shiny black beetle began to glow a pale blue, and burst into bluebottle flames that roared across the surface of Shinji's Tome. Screaming in shock and pain, Shinji dropped the book as insect and paper were consumed alike with shocking speed. Rider faded from sight with the disappearance of the Tome, returning to her spirit form to heal... with her other Master.

And Shinji understood that without ever saying a word, his grandfather had just sent him a very, very clear message.

Worthless failure.

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Ilya watched the scene with satisfaction. Rider was down, and she had been the major concern. The boy was, safe, but... well, she should probably hunt Rin down too. Her Archer was confusing, and had openly tried to take onii-chan's life. Since he was strong and could wound Berserker, it was best to get rid of him right now, and then make sure his impressive summoner had no chance to make another contract. And the Makiri thing was still worth destroying, even without his ridiculous fake Command Seal. And... maybe onii-chan would be safer if she knocked him out of the war completely? Then maybe after she dealt with everyone else, she could send Berserker to remove Saber as well. Then Ilya could handle the boy's protection full-time, which would also give her plenty of time to study him. Yes, that made sense, she would...

Hearing something scuttling near her ankles, Ilya looked down to see, just for a second, something black and multi-limbed, a spider or some kind of insect. Casting her gaze around the small clearing she stood in, she saw many tiny shapes climbing along trees and buzzing through the air. Ah... so, another spectator.

"You know," She said to the night air in a tone far more mature than her appearance suggested, "I have not used a single Command Spell in this War. Berserker can be by my side with a thought. Attacking me would be unwise."

"You misunderstand my intentions, dear child." Said a voice that oozed poison. Zouken Makiri seemed to simply appear from the shadows, as if the night itself... or perhaps the rapidly growing swarm of insects within it... had simply brought him into existence on the spot. "I merely wished to gain your attention."

"What do you want here, worm?" She asked coldly. She knew, instinctively, that this thing was her enemy. Every memory she possessed from her illustrious forebears told her this; that she was not to trust it. That she should not touch it. That if the chance to kill it presented itself, that chance should be taken without hesitation because it was no longer a thing that belonged in this world. But that chance is not now. Ilya thought to the memories flooding through her unbidden. He would not have appeared before me if he did not have some escape route.

She prepared a Command Seal anyway, just in case. If he made any hostile move, Berserker would be by her side before the first worm opened its vile, sucking mouth. She imagined it would look a bit like stuffing maggots into a blender, when Hercules was through with him...

Zouken chuckled. "Such an imperious princess! Befitting the child of Einzbern."

"Answer the question."

Zouken chuckled again, seemingly amused by the ice in her tone. "Patience, doll, patience. Can not an old man care for his grandson? His Servant has been bested, and I do not wish to see him die."

"You are the one who destroyed his weapon."

"Just because he did not deserve the gifts I gave him does not mean I wish him dead. Just safely back at home where he can no longer embarrass me," Zouken said, almost warmly.

"Then you should not have given him a Servant in the first place. Anyone can tell he does not have the makings of a Master. You had to know his death was the most likely outcome of allowing him entry into the Holy Grail War." Ilya retorted.

"True. I had hoped the conflict would bring out some value in the boy, but all it did was definitively confirm what I'd already thought: he is altogether worthless, even more worthless than his father. Our family tree is rotten within, and each new generation is less than the one before." Zouken agreed. "Coming to this land was a mistake, at least for the clan."

"And for yourself? You know as well as I that Makiri has always been of less concern to you than your own ambitions. Even when you were a man..." Ilya said.

Zouken's smile only grew. "HA! My, my... your appearance had me a bit fooled. There's more of her in you than I thought, little puppet. Very well, then... let us say perhaps that Shinji is of some value to my ambitions, despite his utter lack of value to anything else. Would that make you more willing to believe that I wish him spared?"

"... That does sound a bit more like you." Ilya said. "I simply fail to see why that means I should spare his life."

"Why, because you have no choice." Zouken said amicably. "As you noted, I cannot defeat your Servant, but I can force you to call him to your side for protection. In that case, Shinji will have ample time to escape. So would it not be simpler for everyone if you just returned to your castle, content with the night's achievements? Shinji is no longer any threat, and Tohsaka herself is in retreat from your display of power! Let us call this battle of the Holy Grail War your victory, and let it end here."

Ilya considered this. For starters, it couldn't really be called a victory. Rider was dying, but not dead; the Servant had disappeared, but Ilya had not felt the Servant's spirit enter her. Archer was wounded, and Rin Tohsaka was in retreat, but neither was out of the fight. Still, onii-chan had survived, and that had been her primary goal. "Very well. I will order Berserker to stop his attack." She agreed, and even as she spoke the words, the black giant abandoned his assault in the field below, leaving the wounded Archer and disappearing from sight to begin his astral journey to her side. Archer halted for a moment, staring at the boy and Saber, as if considering his options... and then vanished as well, seemingly deciding that he was not confident in his chances.

The Makiri was, as always, meaningless. He slithered off into the darkness, most likely to some very interesting nightmares.

"My thanks, lady of Einzbern." Zouken said.

"Don't thank me for a thing you left me no choice but to do." Ilya snapped.

"Ah... you have more bite to you than the last few models. Well, that's an interesting design choice, but not a bad one." Zouken chuckled. "Farewell, child."

As the old Magus began to disappear back into the cloud of fluttering and crawling things that blanketed the darkness outside Ilya's field of vision, he paused one final time. "Oh... and was it merely my imagination, or were you defending the heir of Emiya? Quite passionately, in fact? An odd choice for the Einzbern Master."

"I don't see how that is your business." Ilya said coldly.

"Of course, of course." Zouken said, once again with that infuriating dry chuckle. "Still... I suppose that could work out well, in the end. We shall meet again, daughter of Einzbern, I have little doubt of that..."

He walked into the darkness, and was gone.

Ilya shuddered. Berserker, take me home.

She hoped Sella or Leysritt had thought to draw her a hot bath. After speaking with that walking plague she felt the overwhelming urge to jump into scalding hot water and scrub the top layer of her skin off...

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Rin was deeply, deeply confused.

Emiya had saved her life. Again. So now she owed him. Again.

Owe him? HA! What on Earth could I give him that he doesn't already have? Rin thought bitterly, her fear and anger overwhelming her sense of fair exchange, for the moment. Because for once, the thought of having her life saved was by far her secondary concern compared to the implications of what else had happened.

He had saved her from Berserker. Not by actually helping, but because Berserker had refused to attack him. And the only reason Berserker would refuse to kill anyone would be because his Master had ordered him not to. Hell, given the track record for Masters of Berserker, usually not even then! This Berserker was incredibly powerful, and yet shockingly obedient, meaning his unknown Master had to be... Rin hated to admit it, but whoever had drawn the Berserker card for this War certainly outranked her in raw power, at the very least. And Emiya had... somehow... managed to forge a partnership with this person.

How? How did he do it? How could he have made an alliance like that so quickly? She thought desperately. He didn't even know what this War was two days ago, and now he's already made a move that almost guarantees him one of the final two spots?! He wouldn't win the Grail, of course, not with that thing as his final opponent, but... God, of course, he didn't even want the Holy Grail, he'd said so himself! Had he just gone to the most powerful Master he could locate and said, 'I'll help you win if you help me protect innocent people'? Or perhaps he did want the Grail after all, and he felt Saber's Noble Phantasm would be enough to overcome Berserker if needed?

It didn't really matter. What mattered was that Saber, the most skilled close combat Servant, and Berserker, the Servant with the highest raw power, were somehow on the same side. A virtually invincible team.

"Rin." Archer asked, appearing beside her, and easily matching her pace despite the arm still hanging limply at his side. "Are you all right?"

"No." She said, anger and humiliation at the thought of being outdone so quickly and so thoroughly by such an amateur making her voice tight. "No, I'm really, really not."

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Saber was deeply, deeply confused.

"Shirou... what happened here?"

Shirou considered it. First that monster had saved him for no reason. Then he had felt his body improve enough to allow movement and had no idea why. Then he had leapt in to save Tohsaka... and the monster had spared him again, still for no reason he could see. And finally, when it was clear the thing had an overwhelming advantage, it had simply retreated.

Shirou blinked a few times, and said, "I have no idea."

Spoiler for Author's Note:

Yes, I know I said I would work on other stories first. I did. I stalled. I came back to this one.

So... no Tohsaka/Emiya alliance yet! I'm sure it will happen eventually, but I decided it might be more fun to play a bit with Solo Rin, see what she's like when she's really pushed into a corner.

Beyond that, the usual: spot any major errors, let me know.

A Chaos Theory is fine too... Though I wish you'd put up some kind of advance notification. I've been refreshing the Nanoha Fanfics for the last few days for Infinity or Sette instead and almost missed this update...

Hmm, I wouldn't mind if a Tohsaka/Emiya alliance doesn't form for a while. Somebody else could be Shiro's miss exposition, Ilya perhaps? Or even Sakura, considering that you've promised some major role for her back at the prologue? Besides, having Rin being tsundere by herself is pretty amusing.

I wonder how Caster would react to (at least from observers) the Berserker/Saber tag team? Accelerate her mana gathering plan?

Also, I think your method of describing Berserkers thought process is good as it is. Hulk speak would be...well, to comedic I guess (I know that the Hulk is very(1000x) strong, but I just found it difficult to take him seriously)

[Moczo]

Originally Posted by GDB

Loved it, though there were a few grammar/spelling mistakes here and there, and one line that I just outright couldn't understand. I should've marked the spot as I was reading it, because I can't find it again just by skimming it. But it didn't detract from the overall story, so it's not a huge deal.

Huh. Well, if you think of it let me know. Possibly I can explain it, or... well. I have, on occasion, been known to rewrite a scene and forget to take out everything that was in the old scene. So it's potentially possible that the sentence you're thinking of seems out of place because it genuinely shouldn't be there .

I almost wish Lancer had been watching from the shadows somewhere, since his purpose is to "observe". Then we'd get awesome Lancer snark!

... Dammit, why did I not think of that?!

Originally Posted by Tiresias

A Chaos Theory is fine too... Though I wish you'd put up some kind of advance notification. I've been refreshing the Nanoha Fanfics for the last few days for Infinity or Sette instead and almost missed this update...

Heh, sorry... it wasn't exactly planned. I've had a weird couple of days, and when I started writing again, I just decided to go with what flowed, y'know? But I swear I'll get to work on those next! Infinity's next chapter is up to over 10,000 words and that's where I like to cut them off, so...

Hmm, I wouldn't mind if a Tohsaka/Emiya alliance doesn't form for a while. Somebody else could be Shiro's miss exposition, Ilya perhaps? Or even Sakura, considering that you've promised some major role for her back at the prologue? Besides, having Rin being tsundere by herself is pretty amusing.

I wonder how Caster would react to (at least from observers) the Berserker/Saber tag team? Accelerate her mana gathering plan?

That would be telling

Also, I think your method of describing Berserkers thought process is good as it is. Hulk speak would be...well, to comedic I guess (I know that the Hulk is very(1000x) strong, but I just found it difficult to take him seriously)

Thanks... I really just couldn't think of a better way to do it, y'know? Like, I wanted to get across he's not really thinking like a person, but... it's weird.

[Haak]

Originally Posted by Moczo

I'm glad I made Shirou dumb enough for you?

1) Well... he didn't outwit her. He saw her getting a jewel out because she basically forgot he was there. He overcame her by virtue of his own meaninglessness! I may have to take out the Rider thing though... sometimes I forget she actually hates his guts. For 'Master' and Servant, they actually don't interact that much.

2) I... yeah, I may have made the sections that were meant to be Berserker too eloquent? You probably have a point. I mean, it's not really him thinking it's me narrating the basic instincts that are going through his mind in a thoughtful way? Does this make sense? I'm not sure.

3) I'm operating under the assumption she is at least aware the worms around are part of his body, just by comparing Justicia's memories to her own senses. She's just also aware that he's very old and very smart, and that since he knows Berserker could shred him in seconds he wouldn't actually come to speak to her unless he had some method of escaping with his life. She doesn't know it's because killing him involves performing open-heart surgery on a girl several miles away, but she at least knows that attacking him here would be a waste of time.

Ah I see. That makes more sense.

Anyway, I'm glad it turned out that Tohsaka believes Shirou teamed with Ilya since that was what I predicted. Does this mean any possibility of a Shirou and Rin team up is impossible? Now that I think about it, that would really be a hard path to go. I mean Rin's alliance with Shirou is one of the constants in the Visual Novel. However, I am wishing at some point that someone or maybe Rin herself will realise that the thought of Shirou allying with someone else makes her jealous. XD

[Moczo]

Originally Posted by Haak

Ah I see. That makes more sense.

Anyway, I'm glad it turned out that Tohsaka believes Shirou teamed with Ilya since that was what I predicted. Does this mean any possibility of a Shirou and Rin team up is impossible? Now that I think about it, that would really be a hard path to go. I mean Rin's alliance with Shirou is one of the constants in the Visual Novel. However, I am wishing at some point that someone or maybe Rin herself will realise that the thought of Shirou allying with someone else makes her jealous. XD

Glad I was able to explain to your satisfaction.

Yes... it was one of the thoughts I had when I was coming up with the sequence, and it ended up being the one I picked because I really did want to experiment a bit with Rin actually fighting the War on her own for awhile, see what she can come up with when her back is against the wall. She and Shirou are both genuinely good people who don't really want to kill each other, so the odds of eventual reconciliation are not great, but she's a little scared of him and her Servant just tried to kill him, so it will take some real work.


EDIT:

New chapter (and, of course, all previous ones) up on FF.net here.

[GlancingReverse]

You could probably stand to make that line about Ilya sparing Archer in his war a bit clearer. I had to read that three times before I got that. I mean, it makes sense now, but you have to think about it to get it.

[Ricky Controversy]

Okay, so, I decided after all was said and done that the scenes I wrote made more sense as part of the Prologue, which is now finalized. A prologue should serve at least one of two purposes: to portend something forthcoming, or to set things moving in the direction they need to be to start the actual story itself. I feel like this version does that now. Read past the first part if you want, it hasn't been edited yet.

Spoiler:

Fate/Last Forge

Prologue

“Discretion. There is such a thing as discretion, you know.” The voice said. It filled the ears of the man tied to the only chair in the room, starting to sweat profusely from the brightly burning lamp just an inch above his head. “I'm sorry, is that uncomfortable? I wasn't really expecting you to be so tall.” The voice was conciliatory, its owner fidgeting sympathetically just beyond the swath of light. His (her? its?) form could only be seen vaguely, a weak assurance it was human despite evidence to the contrary.

“Bullshit! You let me go this instant you bastard!” the man snarled, chomping at the bit as he shifted his weight futilely. “Don't you have any idea who I am?” The man flinched and rocked back when an arm shot out from the darkness, brown leather glove gripping the rim of the lamp.

“Hey, hey don't shift around so much, it causes problems.” The voice spoke casually. It had to be a woman didn't it? No, on second thought, that sounded like a man. A boy, maybe? “It's a rickety building, you know?” A single firm tug on the lamp and a cloud of plaster fell from the ceiling onto the man's face, wires loosened.

“Are you listening to me? I'm going to have your head for this, I'm—” Then, a forceful push, and the lamp sailed into his face, the rim scraping against his scalp, one of the white-hot bulbs searing and shattering against his face as he was tipped to the floor.

“Oh, I know exactly who you are, good sir,” the voice said grandly, apparently deaf to the shrieks rising from before his feet. “Punjit Rasharl. Born May 8th, 1983 in Mumbai, India. Three sisters, two brothers, divorced, one son. You are President of Brahmin Electronics which has become quite prosperous as of late—”

“God, I have glass in my eyes you crazy son of a bitch!” Rasharl said, clawing at the fragments in desperation.

“—and you have glass in your eyes.” The voice paused, then the figure stepped into the halved lamplight, stooping down over the prone man. “But what I'm more interested in is the reason your company is suddenly so prosperous. It's the processor you've developed. It's quite a fancy piece of work. Maybe too fancy...for a normal human?” These words stopped Rasharl cold just as he'd finished removing the shards. When his one survivng eye opened, it was wide and fixed on the featureless gray mask, encircled by tattered scraps of brown leather. Even in the light, the form seemed a mockery of humanity.

“You...what are you saying? We've been—”

“Secretly developing that chip for eight years, right? I know that little PR cover well enough, I helped you cook up the details, Mr. President, sir.” The voice suddenly carried a lilting, feminine note of familiarity, and the prone man felt the last of his will to struggle leave his body, forced out by shock. “See, this brings me back to my main point. There is such a thing as discretion. Because I employed some, you never gave a second thought to how strange it was that one of your board members should happen to find just the right adviser for your needs right before you shipped the new hardware. Because you didn't employ any—” the gloved hands suddenly wrapped around the throat of the listless Rasharl, closing tightly “—it's absolutely pathetic how obvious magecraft was in your design. Miracles of science happen, but not on your R&D budget and not on your time frames. Did you even think of the consequences if normal people were to discover magic exists because—oh, I suppose you're dead now, aren't you.”

The figure released the crushed throat, leaving the body to lay in ruins while it stepped back into the shadows to retrieve a can of oil and a box of matches. After opening the can and dousing the surroundings, it hands retreated into the mass of rough leather scraps the concealed its body and produced a still-boxed pre-pay phone. It tore open the box indelicately and quickly punched in a few numbers with one hand while it stood the chair upright with the other and sat in it, swinging its legs back and forth.

“It's done. I just have the cleanup left. ...No, he didn't even have any spells to try, enhancement is all he knows—well, knew. ...Yeah, it's safe to do a wipe. ...Good, I'll expect my pay in three days. ...No, you'll have to find me all over again if you need me. Goodbye.” It shut off the phone, throwing it carelessly to the floor as it rose from its seat.

“Hey, guess what?” it asked the still body at its feet. “That was the board member that introduced us two months ago! Good times, good times. So, listen. Turns out he's a magus himself, and he called me in to try and put some hush hush on this whole processor thing when he found out about it. Remember when I told you to dumb it down a bit? Yeah, I was trying to prevent all this. So I don't want you to take it personally that some guys are going to destroy everything related to your research and life, so it will be just like you never existed. But, you know, it was your fault. Toodles!”

The figure crossed the shadows to the rotting wooden door, struck a match and threw it, turning its back as the room went ablaze.

--- --- --- --- ---

The sun had just begun to rise, the first rays of white filtering in through the library window, falling upon the seated form of an elderly woman. She sat there serenely, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap, her posture practiced and upright.

“Madam,” she heard her butler say as he entered the room. “A guest has arrived for you, a young lady, it seems.” That puzzled her somewhat, and she opened her piercing ice-blue eyes to study the butler's face a moment.

“I see. Send her in.”

“Certainly.”

She turned her head to peer out the window and heaved a sigh, her body aching as she shifted about ever so slightly in the cushioned seat. The unexpected always exacerbated her weak condition, and she had to confess that she'd been expecting a man from the voice she'd heard. The butler returned with the guest in tow and...

A man was exactly what she saw. A proud man with something of the aristocracy in him. His face full but not overly, with a healthy color and an angular jaw. He had a broad-built frame in an immaculate black suit, that took confident strides towards her. The woman looked at her butler in shock for a moment, then repressed a look of understanding.

“Ah, yes, come in!” She gestured for the striking visitor to approach. “That will be all, Pieter.”

“Certainly, madam.”

Both elder and visitor watched as the butler excused himself, closing the great mahogany door behind him.

“My name is Hildegaard Kroner,” the woman began. “My butler said he saw a woman. You must be quite a clever illusionist, Mister...?”

“Mister, Miss, for all you know either one works. It's not that clever. We spoke on the phone before and I was using a specific voice to influence what you'd see of me.”

“Oh, so what I see is a trick as well?” The woman inquired, narrowing her piercing eyes at what she perceived as a kind of challenge. She mustered the mana to her eyes for a true sight spell, but the form before her did not so much as flicker. “That's quite something. You are as good as the rumors say.”

“Hm. What else do the rumors say?” the man asked, forcing a polite smile as he cast his eyes to the carpet.

“That you tire quickly of negotiations. So, then, the reason I...or rather, my colleagues and I wish to hire you.” She gasped as pain needled her every nerve when she made the effort to rise.

Especially after using mana like that. Once up, however, she walked towards the man and spoke in a low tone. “You exclusively deal with magi who make spectacles of themselves, yes?”

“Absolutely. For a fitting price. Just because I think it's right doesn't mean it should be free.” the man said, arching a brow knowingly.

“Naturally.” Hildegaard nodded. “Then I have a name in mind that should spark your interest. Mugen Ken. I trust you know of him?” she said, smiling enough for her white but crooked teeth to show.

“Know of him?” the man asked, looking amused. “Who doesn't? The superhero of Japan, a man who doesn't die even if you kill him. The name means 'Unlimited Blades' in English, I think. What about him?”

The woman frowned at this, wondering if that question was in earnest, or sarcastic, and liking neither possibility. She regained her composure and locked eyes with him.

“We want you to deal with him. He's the greatest spectacle of them all. You see, he uses proje—”

“Yes, projection magic, I know. He's quite liberal with it. Distressing, really.”

“So you'll do this?”

“Of course not.”

“Excelle—what did you say?”

“I said I will not go after Mugen Ken.”

“But—”

“Listen, I know how older magi tend to lose sight of reality with all their politicking, but first off, that's an incredibly high-profile target, and a controversial one. A lot of people would be happy to have him dead, but even those people would be asking questions because he's such a hot topic. Second, the man is insanely powerful. Sure, anyone can beat anyone given the right circumstances, but those would be hard to come by here. Third and most importantly, I don't see the threat.”

“But he blatantly uses magic every day with news cameras watching! Millions of people have seen it!”

“...except that he's so fast that nobody except a skilled magus—such as yourself!—would ever notice he's replacing his swords. To everyone else, it just looks like he keeps using the same ones. He knows what discretion is.”

Hildegaard's face soured considerably. The rumor mill had painted a picture of this person in her head that was clearly exaggerated. He was supposed to be a monster, a fanatic begging for handouts. Resistance was the last thing she'd accounted for. Yet, all was not lost if she were willing to be just a little flexible.

“Well, I had not intended to tell you this,” she said, closing her eyes and heaving a great sigh to punctuate her disappointment, “but my colleagues and I have it on good authority that another Holy Grail War is soon to take place in Fuyuki City. We believe very strongly that Mugen Ken will assert himself in it to try to contain the situation. This will, of course, greatly increase the risk of the War becoming a public event, which would be...” she let the sentence hang in the air, and that seemed to perk the man's interest.

“I see. Well, that clears up all my objections, but raises one last question.”

“If I answer it to the best of my ability, will you take this job?”

“For that and fifty million Euros, yes.”

“You are a costly man, but very well. Ask.”

“Why do you think Mugen Ken will get himself involved? How do you know he's even aware of the Grail? He doesn't have any connections to the Mage's Association or the Catholic Church, last I heard.”

“Ah, certain information in our possession suggests that he was a participant from the previous Holy Grail War.”

“A master?”

“Likely, but possibly a servant.”

“...well, you certainly aren't making it much easier on me, but that should be enough.” the man said, raising a hand to stroke his chin. “I'll do it.”

“Excellent.” Hildegaard reached into a sleeve with the opposite hand and produced a folded piece of paper for the man. “The supply point will be in Fuyuki City itself, the particulars are written there, and more information will be waiting for you when you arrive.”

“Right, right. You can call me Cloth,” the man said, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket. “I'll contact you as soon as I get to Fuyuki.”

Hildegaard nodded and watched him walk to the door, studying him with uncertainty. Was someone who asked so many questions and complained so much really the beast she'd been described? For a moment she wondered if she'd simply hired a different person altogether.

Still, his illusions are powerful... For some reason, an idle thought passed out her lips at that moment.

“Cloth, I suppose it would be futile to ask what you actually look like?” She thought herself frivolous for asking, but could only watch as the man suddenly stopped at the door. Without a word, he turned to look over his shoulder, and on that handsome face was a smile like an infection, twisting its away across his features. His eyes were hungry, and she had to resist the strong urge to collapse from the sudden change. When she regained control of herself, he was gone.

--- --- --- --- ---

Tohsaka Rin was no stranger to mixed feelings. The life of a magus only grew more complicated with time and growth, and being a prodigy made the age of twenty-five rather difficult.

And the Association has never been shy about taking its dues, she thought reflexively. This is something else entirely, though. Her eyes remained sharply focused on the double doors across the room from her even as she worked to effect boredom. Her bi-annual seminar had ended earlier that morning, her bags were packed, and now she'd be missing her flight out of Heathrow.

Sorry, Shirou. In truth, that anything would prolong the ten days they'd already been apart bothered her more than the idea of being directly summoned by The Clock Tower's lords. She let herself glance over to her left, where a secretary was very clearly picking up on Rin's frustration.

“Was ist die Zeit?” she asked carelessly, the secretary jumping in his chair, a horrified expression on his face. Rin wondered at it, then blushed at her error, furrowing her brows tightly. “What time is it?” she forced the English out.

“Ahh, um, it's, it's...” the man had sunk completely behind his desk, and scrambled to get a good look at the face of the small clock on his desk. Apparently at a loss for words, he mutely turned it to face her, his body clearly ready for a dive. Rin sighed and saw it.

“Eleven-fifty...no chance of making it now.”

“N-no chance of m-making what?” the secretary flinched again, and Rin wondered what business such a person had working for the Mage's Association.

Then again, that could be why he's only a secretary. She shook her head. “Hey, I'm not trying to kill someone every time I speak German.” She folded her arms and looked away, not expecting the point to find any purchase in the man's thick skull. As she heaved another sigh, the door across from her opened slowly, the chamber bailiff stepped outside.

“The lords will see you know, Tohsaka-san.” The man spoke with painful formality, and even more painful pronunciation. Rin felt quite certain he was taking a jab at her.

“Listen, I'm going to get you one day,” Rin said, murmuring under her breath when she passed him.

“Very good, Tohsaka-san,” the bailiff replied without missing a beat, expressionless. She hadn't the time to give him her best death glare as he shut the heavy door behind her. A wave of understanding, then trepidation washed over her when she scanned the room and saw none of the attendant officers milling about.

Just the lords and I to have a chat, eh? Promising. She smiled ruefully and took her customary position facing the semi-circular table, equidistant from each of the six lords. Or rather, five, and all of them making a show of not engaging her. By now, she understood what that meant. Letting me speak first because there's nothing I can say. Nevertheless, she ventured an observation.

“Lady Kroner isn't here.” She nodded to indicate the empty chair to her right.

“Quite. The Dean of Mineralogy has had to tend to matters concerning the Kroner family holdings in Africa,” one of the seated men replied. Light green eyes studied Rin from underneath a proud brow, and a close-cut head of coarse, gray hair. The acid-burn marks along the left side of his jaw were the mark of Harkaitz Ezkibel, a lecturer in the Universal Studies department.

“Matters?” Rin tried to push her luck.

“Quite,” Harkaitz repeated, smiling. When he twisted his lips into that shit-eating grin, Rin thought it somehow made his burns even uglier. She averted her eyes to scan the rest of the room. The powdered face of Benoite Moreau, summoner-bitch extraordinaire; and the fat, ever-sweaty face of Dusko Adzovic made plain their annoyance, while the other two remained calmly focused on her.

So those two don't like Harkaitz today, she thought idly. Keeping track of Clock Tower politics was about as easy as capturing light. Both take a sorcerer.

“Well, I'm here in response to your summons.” She died a little inside at the subservient words, but knew it would speed the process along.

“It is, in actuality, extremely serendipitous that my esteemed colleague Hildegaard Kroner should be absent owing to the maintenance of inherited familial properties whilst you prepare to embark on a homeward journey yourself,” Benoite said, turning her eyes up to the ceiling as she did. Rin frowned and let the purple notes echo off the walls for a moment.

“For God's sake, Benny,” a bored-looking, red-bearded man groaned, face resting firmly in his palm. “What she's trying to say is that we want to talk to you about Fuyuki City. It—”

“Mister Wesson, I take exception! My communication was perfectly eloquent and effe—”

“Shut the Hell up, Benny!” Wesson slammed a fist against the table.

Rin would have allowed herself a laugh during the brief hush following, but the words 'Fuyuki City' held her spellbound. “What about my city?”

“Right. Another Holy Grail War is going to happen, and it's happening there.”

No. No! Absolutely not. There is no way, ever, in a thousand year's that I'd let you! These thoughts fought for space inside her mind, but all her body managed through the shock was a weak “...what?”

“Masters have already started making their way there. I would expect things to begin in earnest within the week,” Dusko observed, patting his face down with a handkerchief. The casualness with which he said such a thing did not surprise Rin. No, the magus in Rin was not bothered at all. But every other fiber of her being rejected it.

“The care of Fuyuki City is fully the responsibility of the Tohsaka sisters. Sakura wouldn't clear this, and I sure as hell won't!” she shouted, regaining herself. Her hands clenched into fists immediately. “Not after what happened last time.”

“Or the time before, or the time before that?” The haggard voice came from a pensive-looking older man, his brown eyes seeming to see nothing as he faced Rin. “Or no, just because last time you saw it first-hand? How cruel, daughter of Tohsaka...”

She felt the slight pang of hypocrite's guilt when she looked into the weary face of Tamian Sophia-Ri. He had supposedly once been a vigorous man, the Clock Tower's respected and feared Dean of Spiritual Evocation. Rin learned during her first year as a student that his daughter had passed in the same war as her father. If any of the lords evoked a sense of sympathy—

No, Rin, focus. “Master Sophia-Ri, I appreciate how you feel, but that is exactly why I can't allow another war to happen on my watch. I won't preside over more death.”

“How dare a magus say such a thing, you Tohsaka are only good for tending the grounds of a killing field!” Tamian shouted, voice quavering. “Just because you have felt the sting of it now does not give you a right to...” Rin watched as he trailed off into bitter murmuring. Again she rebuked herself and mustered her composure.

“Even so, Sakura and I have withdrawn the Tohsaka family from its relations with Einzbern. We can't conduct a Holy Grail War, and even if we could, why would we want to?” She glared hard at the lords, the clear blue of her eyes turned to ice.

“Because you do, in fact, still have some business with Einzbern,” Harkaitz smiled again.

I swear to God, it gets uglier each time, Rin thought, hoping for some comfort in familiar ideas. Her heart fell into her stomach when she saw the disfigured lord lift a gold-leaf silken scroll from his desk.

“Perhaps you'll want to read this.”

She swallowed hard and approached the table, reaching out to take the scroll, hands shaking despite her best efforts. Unrolling it, Rin had a memory to match to her feeling. Something she had only seen once before was in her hands: a letter from the Einzbern family, the German written in flawless calligraphy over the elaborate illumination of an angelic woman holding aloft a grail. The white seal was made not of wax, but of a milky resin that changed color at her touch. She remembered well stumbling upon it in her house when she was a child, a thing that the very same father that oversaw her ruthless magus training had hidden from her, a confirmation notice for the Fourth Holy Grail War.

But this one is directly addressed to me. Rin's eyes widened and she suddenly felt dizzy, but made her best effort to step back calmly from the table as she read.

Tohsaka Rin, Proprietor of the Fuyuki City Spiritual Lands, Warden of the Holy Grail, Guest Lecturer of the Mage's Association London Branch and Master of the Fifth Heaven's Feel.

I have written to you with the intention of notifying you of an abnormality which the Einzbern family has discovered. In attempting to cultivate a more perfect homonculus for the purpose of achieving a Heaven's Feel independent of a spiritual focus, we have lost several models due to features unrelated to their design or intended deterioration. After extensively researching the problem at the cost of twelve homonculi, we found that their ailment was caused by their connection to the Grail itself and further, that the Grail's behavior is growing unstable.

While we have been unable to determine the exact cause of this instability--perhaps those who attempted to destroy it in the previous war should have been more thorough?--due to our inability to investigate Fuyuki City itself per familial oversight regulations, the gravity of this situation has made itself apparent to us in that the last three homonculi produced violent magical phenomena entirely independent of their will. We have managed to contain any knowledge of the situation, but we believe the time has come where we must take definitive action. We cannot predict what phenomena may begin to occur outside of our control if the Grail continues to destabilize.

To this end, we insist that you lend your aid in overseeing this Sixth Heaven's Feel. Not wishing any offense, this event will take place whether you wish it or not; our sources tell us that the Grail has already chosen two Masters at the time of this writing, including a magus loyal to Einzbern. We have also prepared a homonculus that has so far proven capable of withstanding the current Grail. We would obviously, of course, prefer to work with the understanding of our old collaborators. Expressing the Grail successfully may stabilize it, but at the very least we shall have a better opportunity to research it and find a solution, but it cannot be overemphasized that we must rely on Fuyuki City's spiritual focus to avoid further risk.

Respectfully,
Jubstacheit von Einzbern, Eighth Patriarch of the White Magi of Creation

Rin didn't know what to feel. Flashes of nostalgia for her father aside, there was no denying that everything about the scroll checked out with what she remembered, especially the imperious overuse of 'we'.

The 'we' that is 'he'. Pompous or not, however, she knew better than to think the head of the Einzbern would waste another magi's time—or more to the point, his own—writing a false letter. So, the Grail was returning to life. Even though Saber... Though the years had calmed her some, her first reaction to sheer confusion was anger.

“Wh-why do you have this letter!? It has my damn name on it!”

“An Einzbern courier delivered the missive directly to this facility's administrative department six days ago, but it was deemed prudent to withhold it from you until such time as it would not pose a risk of interfering with your lecture course,” Benoite said, a slight smile tugging at her tightly pursed lips.

“Looks like that was a good idea, way you look like a ghost and all.” Wesson leaned back in his chair. “The messenger boy did say something interesting, though.”

“Yes, yes.” Dusko let out a chuckle that shook his pudgy face. “The boy said 'Don't be surprised if you have to find new tenants for Fuyuki City soon.'”

“I think the whole thing's quite interesting, really,” Harkaitz said. “Something like the Holy Grail suddenly becomes unstable while its territory is managed by Tohsaka Rin...it raises questions.”

Rin's whole body shook, her blood boiled furiously, and yet she made no sound. The situation was clear: frustratingly, horribly, insultingly clear, and she couldn't do anything about it. Whatever Einzbern was really angling at, he'd done a lot of damage already.

“I assume we have an understanding, Tohsaka.”

She directed her glare firmly at Harkaitz, who seemed to be getting the most pleasure out of all of this.

Now would be a fine time to acquire some Mystic Eyes of Death. But he did not wither or even flinch under her gaze, and instead gestured dismissively for the door.

“There's a car waiting outside to take you to Heathrow, and the Church's supervisor is waiting in it. The flight arrangements are made. We are looking forward to the results of this war.”

Rin bit her lip, closed her eyes tightly, and spun about on her heel to walk out with the quickest stride she could, flinging the door open, directly into the bailiff's waiting hand. She heard him call out to her as she hurried out of the great anteroom.

“Always a pleasure, Tohsaka-san.”

“Fuck you!”

--- --- --- --- ---

The lady of Tohsaka was not very ladylike with the chauffeur that met her by the curb. He considered himself lucky to escape with both hands still attached after attempting to take care of her luggage for her, and scampered around to climb into the driver's seat of the car. Rin slammed the trunk shut after carelessly throwing her bags in, then with equal carelessness threw herself into the curbside seat, finding herself on a soft cushion made of person.

Silence.

“Listen,” Rin said, not even bothering to look at the person beneath her buttocks. “My morning just turned very sour, so either you move, or the Church will need to send a new supervisor.”

“Ah, um, of course.”

That's a girl's voice. She wondered at that, conjuring up and just as quickly banishing the image of a female Kotomine. I don't need lunch anymore. The body squirmed its way out from under her slowly, and Rin glanced off to the side to study the emerging shape. She was a short, stocky young nun with a rounded face, violet eyes gleaming gently from under her brown brows. Her habit was everything Kotomine had once described, black, white and austere all over. The only thing apart from her face one could see where her neatly folded hands in her lap, and a small wooden cross hung from her neck on a piece of ragged twine. By all accounts she seemed harmless, and Rin found herself looking out the window to set the sudden guilt aside.

“What's your name?” Rin asked.

“Graziana Nucifora,” she replied. She paused, studying Rin, then seemed to remember something. “Ah, Japanese, right? I did a missionary stint there for five years, I hope my Japanese is still good enough”

Rin nodded slightly. “It is, though I have to admit I've never heard Japanese in an Italian accent.” The young magus turned to smile lightly when the girl let out a hearty laugh, charming in its lack of pretense, refreshing after the smugness of the lords. Suddenly, she felt less inclined to brood, and she shifted in her seat to face the nun. “So what do you know about the Holy Grail War?”

“Oh, as much as anyone, I suppose. Ah, I mean not anyone, but I've been taught my role well, I should think. The Church takes this all rather serious.”

“Mm.”

Silence again.

“Tohsaka Rin, is it?” the nun asked. “Is something bothering you?”

What a stupid question. “The fact that we're in this car, going to my home city to do what we're going to do.”

“But you've been in a war before, right? As a Master? Doesn't that mean you approve of it?”

Oh, true. “I used to, before I actually went through it.”

“I see. Well, I'll do my best to make sure things don't get too out of hand, but I'd appreciate your help if you're willing!” Graziana chuckled her good-natured chuckle again, but Rin simply looked back out the window and frowned.

You poor girl, you don't have a clue what you're getting into. For a moment, she almost wished Kotomine were still around. Though he was a bastard, his implacable “I see” response always gave one the sense that at least somebody was in control, a relief amidst the chaos that a Holy Grail War thrived on. She turned her thoughts inward, on the Einzbern letter, and they rode to Heathrow in silence.

Later, in the airport, the two young women waited for their flight, Rin lost in her thoughts until she heard an excited whisper from Graziana.

“Oh, the news is so exciting these days!” she said. Rin looked to her, then quickly turned her gaze upward to the ceiling-mounted television showing the global news. She recognized the familiar skyline of Tokyo, where helicopter cameras frantically followed the rushing form of a red-coated man with a sleek dark-gray helmet and a short sword in each hand. He kept pace with an armored car, deflecting bullets with the flat face of the black blade, and deftly threw the white with incredible strength, bursting one of the rear wheels.

“...footage captured earlier today shows the Japanese vigilante known as 'Mugen Ken' apprehending members of the Ikebukuro-based 'Red Fist', a notoriously violent gang known for its recent high-profile bank robberies...” Rin smiled as the BBC reporter described the event, her eyes glued to the scene as 'Mugen Ken' overtook the swerving, braking car. He turned to face it and sheathed his twin swords at his hips, reaching up the back of his coat and drawing out a monolithic black blade, holding it out in front of him. The car collided with the blade, pushed it back, pushed it back, but never broke it. After a brief skid, the car was completely still, the terrified gang members stumbling out, barely able to keep their feet.

“Isn't it just so thrilling? Just like a comic book!” Graziana said.

“Yeah, he's pretty amazing.” The heir of Tohsaka nodded, savoring the warm feeling in her heart.

“He gives me the shivers. If there's a man worth breaking a chastity oath for...”

Rin turned to face her with a look of abject terror and, without a word, stood up and walked off in search of the nearest bathroom.

“What's wrong Tohsaka? Tohsaka?”

[Moczo]

I just had to mention this. Check out this review for the latest chapter on FF.net:

Strange I am suprised to see Zouken this early.

That's the whole review. And it kind of struck me, considering:

1) This is not the first appearance Zouken has made. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's the third.

2) Zouken made appearances before this point in HF too.

I love fanfiction.net, don't you?

Originally Posted by Ricky Controversy

Okay, so, I decided after all was said and done that the scenes I wrote made more sense as part of the Prologue, which is now finalized. A prologue should serve at least one of two purposes: to portend something forthcoming, or to set things moving in the direction they need to be to start the actual story itself. I feel like this version does that now. Read past the first part if you want, it hasn't been edited yet.

Spoiler:

Fate/Last Forge

Prologue

“Discretion. There is such a thing as discretion, you know.” The voice said. It filled the ears of the man tied to the only chair in the room, starting to sweat profusely from the brightly burning lamp just an inch above his head. “I'm sorry, is that uncomfortable? I wasn't really expecting you to be so tall.” The voice was conciliatory, its owner fidgeting sympathetically just beyond the swath of light. His (her? its?) form could only be seen vaguely, a weak assurance it was human despite evidence to the contrary.

“Bullshit! You let me go this instant you bastard!” the man snarled, chomping at the bit as he shifted his weight futilely. “Don't you have any idea who I am?” The man flinched and rocked back when an arm shot out from the darkness, brown leather glove gripping the rim of the lamp.

“Hey, hey don't shift around so much, it causes problems.” The voice spoke casually. It had to be a woman didn't it? No, on second thought, that sounded like a man. A boy, maybe? “It's a rickety building, you know?” A single firm tug on the lamp and a cloud of plaster fell from the ceiling onto the man's face, wires loosened.

“Are you listening to me? I'm going to have your head for this, I'm—” Then, a forceful push, and the lamp sailed into his face, the rim scraping against his scalp, one of the white-hot bulbs searing and shattering against his face as he was tipped to the floor.

“Oh, I know exactly who you are, good sir,” the voice said grandly, apparently deaf to the shrieks rising from before his feet. “Punjit Rasharl. Born May 8th, 1983 in Mumbai, India. Three sisters, two brothers, divorced, one son. You are President of Brahmin Electronics which has become quite prosperous as of late—”

“God, I have glass in my eyes you crazy son of a bitch!” Rasharl said, clawing at the fragments in desperation.

“—and you have glass in your eyes.” The voice paused, then the figure stepped into the halved lamplight, stooping down over the prone man. “But what I'm more interested in is the reason your company is suddenly so prosperous. It's the processor you've developed. It's quite a fancy piece of work. Maybe too fancy...for a normal human?” These words stopped Rasharl cold just as he'd finished removing the shards. When his one survivng eye opened, it was wide and fixed on the featureless gray mask, encircled by tattered scraps of brown leather. Even in the light, the form seemed a mockery of humanity.

“You...what are you saying? We've been—”

“Secretly developing that chip for eight years, right? I know that little PR cover well enough, I helped you cook up the details, Mr. President, sir.” The voice suddenly carried a lilting, feminine note of familiarity, and the prone man felt the last of his will to struggle leave his body, forced out by shock. “See, this brings me back to my main point. There is such a thing as discretion. Because I employed some, you never gave a second thought to how strange it was that one of your board members should happen to find just the right adviser for your needs right before you shipped the new hardware. Because you didn't employ any—” the gloved hands suddenly wrapped around the throat of the listless Rasharl, closing tightly “—it's absolutely pathetic how obvious magecraft was in your design. Miracles of science happen, but not on your R&D budget and not on your time frames. Did you even think of the consequences if normal people were to discover magic exists because—oh, I suppose you're dead now, aren't you.”

The figure released the crushed throat, leaving the body to lay in ruins while it stepped back into the shadows to retrieve a can of oil and a box of matches. After opening the can and dousing the surroundings, it hands retreated into the mass of rough leather scraps the concealed its body and produced a still-boxed pre-pay phone. It tore open the box indelicately and quickly punched in a few numbers with one hand while it stood the chair upright with the other and sat in it, swinging its legs back and forth.

“It's done. I just have the cleanup left. ...No, he didn't even have any spells to try, enhancement is all he knows—well, knew. ...Yeah, it's safe to do a wipe. ...Good, I'll expect my pay in three days. ...No, you'll have to find me all over again if you need me. Goodbye.” It shut off the phone, throwing it carelessly to the floor as it rose from its seat.

“Hey, guess what?” it asked the still body at its feet. “That was the board member that introduced us two months ago! Good times, good times. So, listen. Turns out he's a magus himself, and he called me in to try and put some hush hush on this whole processor thing when he found out about it. Remember when I told you to dumb it down a bit? Yeah, I was trying to prevent all this. So I don't want you to take it personally that some guys are going to destroy everything related to your research and life, so it will be just like you never existed. But, you know, it was your fault. Toodles!”

The figure crossed the shadows to the rotting wooden door, struck a match and threw it, turning its back as the room went ablaze.

--- --- --- --- ---

The sun had just begun to rise, the first rays of white filtering in through the library window, falling upon the seated form of an elderly woman. She sat there serenely, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap, her posture practiced and upright.

“Madam,” she heard her butler say as he entered the room. “A guest has arrived for you, a young lady, it seems.” That puzzled her somewhat, and she opened her piercing ice-blue eyes to study the butler's face a moment.

“I see. Send her in.”

“Certainly.”

She turned her head to peer out the window and heaved a sigh, her body aching as she shifted about ever so slightly in the cushioned seat. The unexpected always exacerbated her weak condition, and she had to confess that she'd been expecting a man from the voice she'd heard. The butler returned with the guest in tow and...

A man was exactly what she saw. A proud man with something of the aristocracy in him. His face full but not overly, with a healthy color and an angular jaw. He had a broad-built frame in an immaculate black suit, that took confident strides towards her. The woman looked at her butler in shock for a moment, then repressed a look of understanding.

“Ah, yes, come in!” She gestured for the striking visitor to approach. “That will be all, Pieter.”

“Certainly, madam.”

Both elder and visitor watched as the butler excused himself, closing the great mahogany door behind him.

“My name is Hildegaard Kroner,” the woman began. “My butler said he saw a woman. You must be quite a clever illusionist, Mister...?”

“Mister, Miss, for all you know either one works. It's not that clever. We spoke on the phone before and I was using a specific voice to influence what you'd see of me.”

“Oh, so what I see is a trick as well?” The woman inquired, narrowing her piercing eyes at what she perceived as a kind of challenge. She mustered the mana to her eyes for a true sight spell, but the form before her did not so much as flicker. “That's quite something. You are as good as the rumors say.”

“Hm. What else do the rumors say?” the man asked, forcing a polite smile as he cast his eyes to the carpet.

“That you tire quickly of negotiations. So, then, the reason I...or rather, my colleagues and I wish to hire you.” She gasped as pain needled her every nerve when she made the effort to rise.

Especially after using mana like that. Once up, however, she walked towards the man and spoke in a low tone. “You exclusively deal with magi who make spectacles of themselves, yes?”

“Absolutely. For a fitting price. Just because I think it's right doesn't mean it should be free.” the man said, arching a brow knowingly.

“Naturally.” Hildegaard nodded. “Then I have a name in mind that should spark your interest. Mugen Ken. I trust you know of him?” she said, smiling enough for her white but crooked teeth to show.

“Know of him?” the man asked, looking amused. “Who doesn't? The superhero of Japan, a man who doesn't die even if you kill him. The name means 'Unlimited Blades' in English, I think. What about him?”

The woman frowned at this, wondering if that question was in earnest, or sarcastic, and liking neither possibility. She regained her composure and locked eyes with him.

“We want you to deal with him. He's the greatest spectacle of them all. You see, he uses proje—”

“Yes, projection magic, I know. He's quite liberal with it. Distressing, really.”

“So you'll do this?”

“Of course not.”

“Excelle—what did you say?”

“I said I will not go after Mugen Ken.”

“But—”

“Listen, I know how older magi tend to lose sight of reality with all their politicking, but first off, that's an incredibly high-profile target, and a controversial one. A lot of people would be happy to have him dead, but even those people would be asking questions because he's such a hot topic. Second, the man is insanely powerful. Sure, anyone can beat anyone given the right circumstances, but those would be hard to come by here. Third and most importantly, I don't see the threat.”

“But he blatantly uses magic every day with news cameras watching! Millions of people have seen it!”

“...except that he's so fast that nobody except a skilled magus—such as yourself!—would ever notice he's replacing his swords. To everyone else, it just looks like he keeps using the same ones. He knows what discretion is.”

Hildegaard's face soured considerably. The rumor mill had painted a picture of this person in her head that was clearly exaggerated. He was supposed to be a monster, a fanatic begging for handouts. Resistance was the last thing she'd accounted for. Yet, all was not lost if she were willing to be just a little flexible.

“Well, I had not intended to tell you this,” she said, closing her eyes and heaving a great sigh to punctuate her disappointment, “but my colleagues and I have it on good authority that another Holy Grail War is soon to take place in Fuyuki City. We believe very strongly that Mugen Ken will assert himself in it to try to contain the situation. This will, of course, greatly increase the risk of the War becoming a public event, which would be...” she let the sentence hang in the air, and that seemed to perk the man's interest.

“I see. Well, that clears up all my objections, but raises one last question.”

“If I answer it to the best of my ability, will you take this job?”

“For that and fifty million Euros, yes.”

“You are a costly man, but very well. Ask.”

“Why do you think Mugen Ken will get himself involved? How do you know he's even aware of the Grail? He doesn't have any connections to the Mage's Association or the Catholic Church, last I heard.”

“Ah, certain information in our possession suggests that he was a participant from the previous Holy Grail War.”

“A master?”

“Likely, but possibly a servant.”

“...well, you certainly aren't making it much easier on me, but that should be enough.” the man said, raising a hand to stroke his chin. “I'll do it.”

“Excellent.” Hildegaard reached into a sleeve with the opposite hand and produced a folded piece of paper for the man. “The supply point will be in Fuyuki City itself, the particulars are written there, and more information will be waiting for you when you arrive.”

“Right, right. You can call me Cloth,” the man said, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket. “I'll contact you as soon as I get to Fuyuki.”

Hildegaard nodded and watched him walk to the door, studying him with uncertainty. Was someone who asked so many questions and complained so much really the beast she'd been described? For a moment she wondered if she'd simply hired a different person altogether.

Still, his illusions are powerful... For some reason, an idle thought passed out her lips at that moment.

“Cloth, I suppose it would be futile to ask what you actually look like?” She thought herself frivolous for asking, but could only watch as the man suddenly stopped at the door. Without a word, he turned to look over his shoulder, and on that handsome face was a smile like an infection, twisting its away across his features. His eyes were hungry, and she had to resist the strong urge to collapse from the sudden change. When she regained control of herself, he was gone.

--- --- --- --- ---

Tohsaka Rin was no stranger to mixed feelings. The life of a magus only grew more complicated with time and growth, and being a prodigy made the age of twenty-five rather difficult.

And the Association has never been shy about taking its dues, she thought reflexively. This is something else entirely, though. Her eyes remained sharply focused on the double doors across the room from her even as she worked to effect boredom. Her bi-annual seminar had ended earlier that morning, her bags were packed, and now she'd be missing her flight out of Heathrow.

Sorry, Shirou. In truth, that anything would prolong the ten days they'd already been apart bothered her more than the idea of being directly summoned by The Clock Tower's lords. She let herself glance over to her left, where a secretary was very clearly picking up on Rin's frustration.

“Was ist die Zeit?” she asked carelessly, the secretary jumping in his chair, a horrified expression on his face. Rin wondered at it, then blushed at her error, furrowing her brows tightly. “What time is it?” she forced the English out.

“Ahh, um, it's, it's...” the man had sunk completely behind his desk, and scrambled to get a good look at the face of the small clock on his desk. Apparently at a loss for words, he mutely turned it to face her, his body clearly ready for a dive. Rin sighed and saw it.

“Eleven-fifty...no chance of making it now.”

“N-no chance of m-making what?” the secretary flinched again, and Rin wondered what business such a person had working for the Mage's Association.

Then again, that could be why he's only a secretary. She shook her head. “Hey, I'm not trying to kill someone every time I speak German.” She folded her arms and looked away, not expecting the point to find any purchase in the man's thick skull. As she heaved another sigh, the door across from her opened slowly, the chamber bailiff stepped outside.

“The lords will see you know, Tohsaka-san.” The man spoke with painful formality, and even more painful pronunciation. Rin felt quite certain he was taking a jab at her.

“Listen, I'm going to get you one day,” Rin said, murmuring under her breath when she passed him.

“Very good, Tohsaka-san,” the bailiff replied without missing a beat, expressionless. She hadn't the time to give him her best death glare as he shut the heavy door behind her. A wave of understanding, then trepidation washed over her when she scanned the room and saw none of the attendant officers milling about.

Just the lords and I to have a chat, eh? Promising. She smiled ruefully and took her customary position facing the semi-circular table, equidistant from each of the six lords. Or rather, five, and all of them making a show of not engaging her. By now, she understood what that meant. Letting me speak first because there's nothing I can say. Nevertheless, she ventured an observation.

“Lady Kroner isn't here.” She nodded to indicate the empty chair to her right.

“Quite. The Dean of Mineralogy has had to tend to matters concerning the Kroner family holdings in Africa,” one of the seated men replied. Light green eyes studied Rin from underneath a proud brow, and a close-cut head of coarse, gray hair. The acid-burn marks along the left side of his jaw were the mark of Harkaitz Ezkibel, a lecturer in the Universal Studies department.

“Matters?” Rin tried to push her luck.

“Quite,” Harkaitz repeated, smiling. When he twisted his lips into that shit-eating grin, Rin thought it somehow made his burns even uglier. She averted her eyes to scan the rest of the room. The powdered face of Benoite Moreau, summoner-bitch extraordinaire; and the fat, ever-sweaty face of Dusko Adzovic made plain their annoyance, while the other two remained calmly focused on her.

So those two don't like Harkaitz today, she thought idly. Keeping track of Clock Tower politics was about as easy as capturing light. Both take a sorcerer.

“Well, I'm here in response to your summons.” She died a little inside at the subservient words, but knew it would speed the process along.

“It is, in actuality, extremely serendipitous that my esteemed colleague Hildegaard Kroner should be absent owing to the maintenance of inherited familial properties whilst you prepare to embark on a homeward journey yourself,” Benoite said, turning her eyes up to the ceiling as she did. Rin frowned and let the purple notes echo off the walls for a moment.

“For God's sake, Benny,” a bored-looking, red-bearded man groaned, face resting firmly in his palm. “What she's trying to say is that we want to talk to you about Fuyuki City. It—”

“Mister Wesson, I take exception! My communication was perfectly eloquent and effe—”

“Shut the Hell up, Benny!” Wesson slammed a fist against the table.

Rin would have allowed herself a laugh during the brief hush following, but the words 'Fuyuki City' held her spellbound. “What about my city?”

“Right. Another Holy Grail War is going to happen, and it's happening there.”

No. No! Absolutely not. There is no way, ever, in a thousand year's that I'd let you! These thoughts fought for space inside her mind, but all her body managed through the shock was a weak “...what?”

“Masters have already started making their way there. I would expect things to begin in earnest within the week,” Dusko observed, patting his face down with a handkerchief. The casualness with which he said such a thing did not surprise Rin. No, the magus in Rin was not bothered at all. But every other fiber of her being rejected it.

“The care of Fuyuki City is fully the responsibility of the Tohsaka sisters. Sakura wouldn't clear this, and I sure as hell won't!” she shouted, regaining herself. Her hands clenched into fists immediately. “Not after what happened last time.”

“Or the time before, or the time before that?” The haggard voice came from a pensive-looking older man, his brown eyes seeming to see nothing as he faced Rin. “Or no, just because last time you saw it first-hand? How cruel, daughter of Tohsaka...”

She felt the slight pang of hypocrite's guilt when she looked into the weary face of Tamian Sophia-Ri. He had supposedly once been a vigorous man, the Clock Tower's respected and feared Dean of Spiritual Evocation. Rin learned during her first year as a student that his daughter had passed in the same war as her father. If any of the lords evoked a sense of sympathy—

No, Rin, focus. “Master Sophia-Ri, I appreciate how you feel, but that is exactly why I can't allow another war to happen on my watch. I won't preside over more death.”

“How dare a magus say such a thing, you Tohsaka are only good for tending the grounds of a killing field!” Tamian shouted, voice quavering. “Just because you have felt the sting of it now does not give you a right to...” Rin watched as he trailed off into bitter murmuring. Again she rebuked herself and mustered her composure.

“Even so, Sakura and I have withdrawn the Tohsaka family from its relations with Einzbern. We can't conduct a Holy Grail War, and even if we could, why would we want to?” She glared hard at the lords, the clear blue of her eyes turned to ice.

“Because you do, in fact, still have some business with Einzbern,” Harkaitz smiled again.

I swear to God, it gets uglier each time, Rin thought, hoping for some comfort in familiar ideas. Her heart fell into her stomach when she saw the disfigured lord lift a gold-leaf silken scroll from his desk.

“Perhaps you'll want to read this.”

She swallowed hard and approached the table, reaching out to take the scroll, hands shaking despite her best efforts. Unrolling it, Rin had a memory to match to her feeling. Something she had only seen once before was in her hands: a letter from the Einzbern family, the German written in flawless calligraphy over the elaborate illumination of an angelic woman holding aloft a grail. The white seal was made not of wax, but of a milky resin that changed color at her touch. She remembered well stumbling upon it in her house when she was a child, a thing that the very same father that oversaw her ruthless magus training had hidden from her, a confirmation notice for the Fourth Holy Grail War.

But this one is directly addressed to me. Rin's eyes widened and she suddenly felt dizzy, but made her best effort to step back calmly from the table as she read.

Tohsaka Rin, Proprietor of the Fuyuki City Spiritual Lands, Warden of the Holy Grail, Guest Lecturer of the Mage's Association London Branch and Master of the Fifth Heaven's Feel.

I have written to you with the intention of notifying you of an abnormality which the Einzbern family has discovered. In attempting to cultivate a more perfect homonculus for the purpose of achieving a Heaven's Feel independent of a spiritual focus, we have lost several models due to features unrelated to their design or intended deterioration. After extensively researching the problem at the cost of twelve homonculi, we found that their ailment was caused by their connection to the Grail itself and further, that the Grail's behavior is growing unstable.

While we have been unable to determine the exact cause of this instability--perhaps those who attempted to destroy it in the previous war should have been more thorough?--due to our inability to investigate Fuyuki City itself per familial oversight regulations, the gravity of this situation has made itself apparent to us in that the last three homonculi produced violent magical phenomena entirely independent of their will. We have managed to contain any knowledge of the situation, but we believe the time has come where we must take definitive action. We cannot predict what phenomena may begin to occur outside of our control if the Grail continues to destabilize.

To this end, we insist that you lend your aid in overseeing this Sixth Heaven's Feel. Not wishing any offense, this event will take place whether you wish it or not; our sources tell us that the Grail has already chosen two Masters at the time of this writing, including a magus loyal to Einzbern. We have also prepared a homonculus that has so far proven capable of withstanding the current Grail. We would obviously, of course, prefer to work with the understanding of our old collaborators. Expressing the Grail successfully may stabilize it, but at the very least we shall have a better opportunity to research it and find a solution, but it cannot be overemphasized that we must rely on Fuyuki City's spiritual focus to avoid further risk.

Respectfully,
Jubstacheit von Einzbern, Eighth Patriarch of the White Magi of Creation

Rin didn't know what to feel. Flashes of nostalgia for her father aside, there was no denying that everything about the scroll checked out with what she remembered, especially the imperious overuse of 'we'.

The 'we' that is 'he'. Pompous or not, however, she knew better than to think the head of the Einzbern would waste another magi's time—or more to the point, his own—writing a false letter. So, the Grail was returning to life. Even though Saber... Though the years had calmed her some, her first reaction to sheer confusion was anger.

“Wh-why do you have this letter!? It has my damn name on it!”

“An Einzbern courier delivered the missive directly to this facility's administrative department six days ago, but it was deemed prudent to withhold it from you until such time as it would not pose a risk of interfering with your lecture course,” Benoite said, a slight smile tugging at her tightly pursed lips.

“Looks like that was a good idea, way you look like a ghost and all.” Wesson leaned back in his chair. “The messenger boy did say something interesting, though.”

“Yes, yes.” Dusko let out a chuckle that shook his pudgy face. “The boy said 'Don't be surprised if you have to find new tenants for Fuyuki City soon.'”

“I think the whole thing's quite interesting, really,” Harkaitz said. “Something like the Holy Grail suddenly becomes unstable while its territory is managed by Tohsaka Rin...it raises questions.”

Rin's whole body shook, her blood boiled furiously, and yet she made no sound. The situation was clear: frustratingly, horribly, insultingly clear, and she couldn't do anything about it. Whatever Einzbern was really angling at, he'd done a lot of damage already.

“I assume we have an understanding, Tohsaka.”

She directed her glare firmly at Harkaitz, who seemed to be getting the most pleasure out of all of this.

Now would be a fine time to acquire some Mystic Eyes of Death. But he did not wither or even flinch under her gaze, and instead gestured dismissively for the door.

“There's a car waiting outside to take you to Heathrow, and the Church's supervisor is waiting in it. The flight arrangements are made. We are looking forward to the results of this war.”

Rin bit her lip, closed her eyes tightly, and spun about on her heel to walk out with the quickest stride she could, flinging the door open, directly into the bailiff's waiting hand. She heard him call out to her as she hurried out of the great anteroom.

“Always a pleasure, Tohsaka-san.”

“Fuck you!”

--- --- --- --- ---

The lady of Tohsaka was not very ladylike with the chauffeur that met her by the curb. He considered himself lucky to escape with both hands still attached after attempting to take care of her luggage for her, and scampered around to climb into the driver's seat of the car. Rin slammed the trunk shut after carelessly throwing her bags in, then with equal carelessness threw herself into the curbside seat, finding herself on a soft cushion made of person.

Silence.

“Listen,” Rin said, not even bothering to look at the person beneath her buttocks. “My morning just turned very sour, so either you move, or the Church will need to send a new supervisor.”

“Ah, um, of course.”

That's a girl's voice. She wondered at that, conjuring up and just as quickly banishing the image of a female Kotomine. I don't need lunch anymore. The body squirmed its way out from under her slowly, and Rin glanced off to the side to study the emerging shape. She was a short, stocky young nun with a rounded face, violet eyes gleaming gently from under her brown brows. Her habit was everything Kotomine had once described, black, white and austere all over. The only thing apart from her face one could see where her neatly folded hands in her lap, and a small wooden cross hung from her neck on a piece of ragged twine. By all accounts she seemed harmless, and Rin found herself looking out the window to set the sudden guilt aside.

“What's your name?” Rin asked.

“Graziana Nucifora,” she replied. She paused, studying Rin, then seemed to remember something. “Ah, Japanese, right? I did a missionary stint there for five years, I hope my Japanese is still good enough”

Rin nodded slightly. “It is, though I have to admit I've never heard Japanese in an Italian accent.” The young magus turned to smile lightly when the girl let out a hearty laugh, charming in its lack of pretense, refreshing after the smugness of the lords. Suddenly, she felt less inclined to brood, and she shifted in her seat to face the nun. “So what do you know about the Holy Grail War?”

“Oh, as much as anyone, I suppose. Ah, I mean not anyone, but I've been taught my role well, I should think. The Church takes this all rather serious.”

“Mm.”

Silence again.

“Tohsaka Rin, is it?” the nun asked. “Is something bothering you?”

What a stupid question. “The fact that we're in this car, going to my home city to do what we're going to do.”

“But you've been in a war before, right? As a Master? Doesn't that mean you approve of it?”

Oh, true. “I used to, before I actually went through it.”

“I see. Well, I'll do my best to make sure things don't get too out of hand, but I'd appreciate your help if you're willing!” Graziana chuckled her good-natured chuckle again, but Rin simply looked back out the window and frowned.

You poor girl, you don't have a clue what you're getting into. For a moment, she almost wished Kotomine were still around. Though he was a bastard, his implacable “I see” response always gave one the sense that at least somebody was in control, a relief amidst the chaos that a Holy Grail War thrived on. She turned her thoughts inward, on the Einzbern letter, and they rode to Heathrow in silence.

Later, in the airport, the two young women waited for their flight, Rin lost in her thoughts until she heard an excited whisper from Graziana.

“Oh, the news is so exciting these days!” she said. Rin looked to her, then quickly turned her gaze upward to the ceiling-mounted television showing the global news. She recognized the familiar skyline of Tokyo, where helicopter cameras frantically followed the rushing form of a red-coated man with a sleek dark-gray helmet and a short sword in each hand. He kept pace with an armored car, deflecting bullets with the flat face of the black blade, and deftly threw the white with incredible strength, bursting one of the rear wheels.

“...footage captured earlier today shows the Japanese vigilante known as 'Mugen Ken' apprehending members of the Ikebukuro-based 'Red Fist', a notoriously violent gang known for its recent high-profile bank robberies...” Rin smiled as the BBC reporter described the event, her eyes glued to the scene as 'Mugen Ken' overtook the swerving, braking car. He turned to face it and sheathed his twin swords at his hips, reaching up the back of his coat and drawing out a monolithic black blade, holding it out in front of him. The car collided with the blade, pushed it back, pushed it back, but never broke it. After a brief skid, the car was completely still, the terrified gang members stumbling out, barely able to keep their feet.

“Isn't it just so thrilling? Just like a comic book!” Graziana said.

“Yeah, he's pretty amazing.” The heir of Tohsaka nodded, savoring the warm feeling in her heart.

“He gives me the shivers. If there's a man worth breaking a chastity oath for...”

Rin turned to face her with a look of abject terror and, without a word, stood up and walked off in search of the nearest bathroom.

“What's wrong Tohsaka? Tohsaka?”

Like I said over AIM, a good addition. The new scenes make the prologue a better set-up to the story overall by getting Rin involved and setting the stage for the coming Grail War. Looking forward to seeing where you take this.

You know, assuming you don't just... keep adding to the prologue forever

[GDB]

Originally Posted by Moczo

Huh. Well, if you think of it let me know. Possibly I can explain it, or... well. I have, on occasion, been known to rewrite a scene and forget to take out everything that was in the old scene. So it's potentially possible that the sentence you're thinking of seems out of place because it genuinely shouldn't be there .

If I recall, it was more that the sentence itself didn't make sense. As if you had started a sentence, came up with another idea, and then forgot to delete what you had started to write for that sentence.

... Dammit, why did I not think of that?!

Could still be done in an upcoming chapter, as part of an interlude or Lancer giving his report or whatever.

[LostHanyou]

Bahsahkah so good.

I think your writing on him was fine. The Berserker intermission in UBW (you know the one) had his thoughts portrayed intelligently, even if he didn't think on that level.

I kinda feel like Rin is out of character...

[RadiantBeam]

Originally Posted by Moczo

Wow. I leave for a few days and the FFT goes to such wonderful and amazing new heights of discussion and literary creativity!

Oh. Wait. No. It's the other thing... what was it? I go away for a few days and the FFT goes absolutely nowhere at all.

Ah, well, let's see what we can do about that.

Spoiler for Chaos Theory, Chapter Five:

Chapter 5: Hurricane

To call it a mismatch would have been a laughable understatement.

On one side, a Magus and a sorta-Magus. Of these two, Rin Tohsaka could barely even see straight and Shirou Emiya was armed with weaponry consisting of a harder-than-average stick.

On the other side, Rider. The scent of blood filled the air just from her presence. She seemed part of the darkness; like liquid night poured into a human skin. Her every motion held a graceful, deadly beauty like a hawk in flight. Anyone with eyes could tell that she was something that was simply beyond humanity. Perhaps not as deadly a combatant as Saber, but certainly far, far more than any mortal could face.

So yes, it might have seemed to the casual observer that perhaps one side held a slight advantage in this confrontation.

When Rider moved, Shirou could barely see her. As before, she seemed to blend with every single shadow she touched, almost becoming part of the background she so seamlessly vanished into them. And her speed was, of course, impossible. Unimaginable. Even with raw adrenaline gushing through his veins and his reaction time amped up to far greater than normal, Shirou very nearly died to her first strike.

She didn't come at him from the front; he had no idea how, but she looped around him in the space of a second and struck at the side of his neck, her hand held flat as if to spear him through the jugular. He snapped his improvised weapon into the path of her hand, and it snapped despite his reinforcement, but it held her back for just enough time for him to...

One of her twin nails, swung behind her charge and just now catching up, speared him in the side, lodging between two ribs. The shock and pain disoriented him, and he could taste blood in his mouth and realized that was a very bad sign. He had little time to ponder it, however, as Rider then proceeded to swing him directly into a tree with bone-crushing force. Literally. Shirou could hear the bone break inside him, and hoped it wasn't anything he needed to live...

Ha. Live? What am I worrying about that for? He wondered deliriously, watching Rider begin to walk . She was coming for him, and he could already see it, in his mind's eye, those teeth sinking into his throat. Shinji had no mana, after all, so she wouldn't waste even a talentless Magus when she needed energy so badly. I need to get out of here... He thought, still trying to focus his mind enough to actually accomplish this. His limbs felt like jelly, there was no way he could possibly stand up on his own power. He tried anyway, the edges of his broken bones and torn muscles sending fresh shocks of agony through him at the futile effort, and the Servant was only getting closer...

Rin Tohsaka watched this, and she wasn't thinking anything so silly as that. Her own mind was beginning to clear somewhat, and she saw Emiya clearly on his was to becoming the Servant's latest meal. He saved my life. Again. And... more to the point, I need his help to get out of this mess. She slid something small and brilliant from her sleeve, a tiny, magnificently cut gemstone that glowed with an inner fire. There was an A-rank spell held in there, and she doubted Rider had the kind of magic resistance that had allowed Saber to shrug off her gems. If she could land a direct hit on the head or heart, she might even be able to kill Rider here and now. Tensing her arm, she prepared to throw...

"Rider, behind you." Shinji said calmly.

Without looking, Rider threw the other end of her weapon at the downed Magus. Rin had enough presence of mind to roll, letting the weapon impale itself in the ground instead of in her face, but her shot was ruined and now Rider was focused directly on her. Dammit... Shinji really does ruin everything!

"Ah... unlike the other, this one actually has some magic worth being cautious of. But the other is a better target... I wonder which I should destroy first?" The violet-haired Servant asked.

"Either. Both. As long as they bleed." Shinji said with dark satisfaction, sweat running down his brow freely. She knew it was petty, but Rin felt a dark burst of glee. Well, at least the Gandr curse is taking hold. Enjoy spending tomorrow in bed throwing up blood, jackass...

Rider stood, one 'nail' in each hand. "As you command, Master." she said calmly.

Damn... Rin said. Rider was going to send one spike for each of their throats, and there was not much Rin could do about it. She wasn't sure she had the speed in her at the moment to dodge, and Emiya couldn't move, and a counterattack while Rider was prepared would do little but make the Servant focus only on her...!

Rider snapped her wrists, one blade flying toward each of the two humans at near-bullet speed...

And the world froze.

An aura descended upon the park, an all-consuming feeling of rage and blood-lust backed by a power as implacable and unyielding as a mountain. It was not only a matter of magical strength... beyond that. A sensation, primal and terrible, that flooded the consciousness of everyone in the area, even Rider; the feeling of a rabbit that has been cornered by a wolf and is about to be ripped apart, helpless and terrified.

Rider drew back in her chain blade before the attack had gone more than a foot from her hands and leapt for safety out of some primitive survival instinct. Something huge, dark, and horrible leapt into the space between her and Shirou Emiya, striking at her with enough force to leave the ground where she had been standing gouged five feet straight down.

Landing nimbly on her feet, her weapon coiled around her like a python, Rider stared at the scene in open fear. That attack would have split her in half had it connected... and judging by the power of the being she saw before her, it had been little more than an offhanded gesture.

Shirou looked up at his savior. And up.

And up.

It was a Servant, there was no doubt about that much. But to call this thing merely a 'Servant' seemed the equivalent of calling a wolf just a 'dog' or a tiger just a 'cat'. There was no beauty, there; not Saber's holy purity, or Rider's deadly grace, or even the somber dignity of Archer. Two meters tall, at the very least... muscles so massive and corded they bordered on the grotesque... bronze skin and inhuman red eyes... all of these things were discomforting enough. But more than anything physical, this creature was horrifying because of the aura it exuded of sheer, mindless, impossible power. Like nothing Shirou had ever seen or even dreamed of in his blackest nightmares, like watching an earthquake or staring into an oncoming hurricane, frozen in fear and awe by the unimaginable destructive potential and the prospect of certain death.

Rider, seeming so deadly mere moments ago, was rooted to the spot in fear. She understood better than anyone else present the nature of the sensations she felt, the type of creature that stood before her: if she attacked, she would be crushed in a single stroke. Even if she took no offensive action and acted solely to preserve her own life, she would most likely not be leaving this park alive if that giant decided it wanted her dead. Rin, jewel still in hand, was shaking so hard she could not even consider actually using the muscle control needed to throw it. Even Shinji, who had all the magical instincts of a stump, seemed to be instinctively aware that his life was most likely about to end; his eyes were wide, his mouth frozen in a rictus grin of sheer horror.

A Servant? No. This was a destroyer. A being wholly specialized for the obliteration of life. It had no purpose but to choose a target and attack, attack, attack with relentless fury and unstoppable force until that target was nothing but wet meat on the ground, and then to choose another target, and another, and another, until there was nothing around it but death.

So why the Hell had something like that saved him, exactly?

He would not be learning the answer to this that night, however, as the black giant threw back its head and roared, a sound that shook the earth. Shirou could feel his broken bones vibrate painfully and winced. And with that roar, Berserker charged.
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Berserker was not a protector. He was a killer, and had no other purpose. He could protect, in a sense, as he protected Ilya; by destroying everything in the area with the slightest hostile intent towards her, until she gave him the order to stop. And so he would do such with the boy she had ordered him to defend. And as there was not one thing in this park that had not showed hostility towards the boy during the time Ilya and Berserker had been observing the battle, Berserker would kill, and kill, and kill, until there was not even one living thing standing to harm his protectorate. Ilya had not given him orders to the contrary; she cared only for the boy's safety, nothing else. There were three moving things within the field of his senses that had presented a threat to the boy. All three of those things would die here.

The greatest threat, the thing that stood out the most against the violent red mist that was Berserker's mind, was the Servant. So he attacked her first. She was quick, and agile, but Berserker's speed was a match for her. She leapt into the trees, but they shattered like toothpicks to the swings of Berserker's monstrous weapon. The only problem was his size... he needed to break those trees to move, but Rider did not. She could pass more quickly, gain distance. But she could not stop dodging, could not counter at all. Her attacks were less than fleabites, her defenses no more use than wet cloth. All Berserker needed to do was keep her in range long enough to land even a single blow. A single blow would be enough to end this 'battle', and it was only a matter of time until that blow landed. Berserker just needed to keep swinging. They would, eventually, run out of trees to get in the way...

There.

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Rin was not entirely sure what she should be doing.

The battle between the two Servants sounded like a lunatic woodchipper. The space among the trees was as black as pitch; the only way to tell where they were was by following the sounds of shattering wood and the occasional roar of the giant.

So what should she do about it? Archer was on his way, but... she was not confident in his ability to halt that monster. Perhaps she should just flee? But... Emiya had saved her life. She couldn't leave him here with that thing, right? She owed him. But using anything but her entire stockpile of gems against that thing would be pointless; her normal magic would be no more use than trying to browbeat it into submission with a severe scolding. Could she really afford to give up her best weapons just to help Emiya? Yes, he had saved her, but didn't she have her own life to consider too? There was a War going on, and...

Something limp and black was hurled out of the woods like a rag-doll, taking the choice out of her hands.

--------------------------------------------------------

The space between the trees had been too large.

This was a park, the trees were not all close together. It was simply Rider's poor luck that she chose a path that lead to a clearing large enough for Berserker's body to fit without smashing any. She took the wrong path, that was all. And when she did, Berserker closed the gap. It was really all over once that happened. Rider was still a Servant, of course, and knew she was about to be struck; she twisted her body out of the way in midair, and defended with her own weapon.

This kept her from being sliced completely in half at the waist, but not by much.

Sent flying, limp and broken, the Servant slammed into the ground with bruising force and skidded to a halt. She was still technically in one piece, still alive, but she would not stand again. It was not a question of power or mana, but of structure; her abdominal muscles had been completely shredded, the only thing holding her body together was her spine. Attempting to stand would cause her to break in half, Servant or no. Her legs flopped uselessly, and she coughed up blood.

She was still alive, and so Berserker's blood screamed at him to kill her even as her own Master screamed uselessly for her to stand and defend him. It would be simple to finish her. A single blow; just one more blow would finish her off.

But no. There were more important matters for him; his Master's command, the only thing that could overcome the Servant's natural blood-lust even temporarily.

'Protect the Boy'.

He had protected the boy from the Servant well enough, she was no longer a threat and would not heal any time soon. The priority, the closest thing to a thought he could have, was the impulse to deal with potential dangers, and the greatest danger now present was the girl with the shining magic jewel in her hand...

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Rin saw Rider fall to earth like so much useless meat.

She heard Shinji panic, screaming at the woman to rise even though anyone with eyes could tell the wounds would not allow it.

And most of all, she saw the black giant turn its eyes towards her, and all other thought was torn away by the knowledge that she was about to die. Rider was a Servant, and even she had been helpless against that thing; how could Rin possibly have the slightest hope of success? Escape was impossible, victory was impossible...

Shinji continued to wail at his fallen Servant, berating her for her uselessness. The Command Seal caused her visible pain as she tried to obey despite the limitations of her broken body.

Well, that decides that, then. Rin thought. She planted her feet and flipped another pair of jewels to her hand, leaving her holding three. Maybe she could at least do some real damage before that thing took her apart. If she was going to die, she would go out with some dignity, not whimpering like a beaten dog. She was a Magus of Tohsaka, and if nothing else she could die well.

The giant charged; fast, impossibly fast, she probably wouldn't even have time to fire but maybe she could detonate the gems while it was on top of her and ripping her apart and...

Something red pushed leapt between her and the giant. It couldn't have been fast enough to react. It had to have simply been moving in that direction before the giant had even started its rush, assuming that she would be next. Archer...? She thought in dazed hope. But no, the wrong shade of red, and...

Shirou Emiya stood before her, his arms raised as if to use his own body as a shield.

Rin would have found it rather sweet if it weren't the single stupidest thing she'd ever seen in her life. For starters, that thing was just going to stomp over him, he was no shield at all. Also, how was even moving? Hadn't he been too hurt to stand? The incongruity of the situation nearly made her laugh out loud, if she weren't painfully aware that it had been almost half a second since the monster had charged and the axe-sword was already descending...

And stopping?

What the Hell?

The giant stopped in its tracks, its weapon halted roughly an inch away from Emiya's face.

Shirou's eyes widened in confusion. He had... well, sorta been expecting to be dead at this point.

"Um... huh?" Rin said. She couldn't help it.

Berserker, with the air of a gorilla lifting a kitten, placed its hand delicately around Shirou's waist, lifted him bodily as if he weighed no more than a feather, and softly deposited him several feet away. The scene was surreal beyond imagination; Shirou was so shocked he didn't even think to struggle. Even Shinji fell silent.

Then the giant turned back to Rin, and she was reminded that she really, really should have run away. The creature raised its arm...

And something long, silver, and sharp slammed home, impaling it through the chest.

"Get back, Rin!" Archer commanded, firing his next projection. The first had not hit the heart, it wouldn't have taken a life, but it at had at least pierced the skin and gotten the monster's attention. The next shot might... be batted aside uselessly. Ah, well, he'd known this wouldn't be easy. Saber rushed past him, to place herself between Berserker and her own Master, holding her sword at the ready and staring on the Destroyer with no fear.

Archer was confused by that. His eyes had seen things very well before he'd found a good position to attack, and he'd seen the way Berserker had been behaving around Shirou. Despite several opportunities, the giant Servant had not killed the boy. Why not? It was not as though he couldn't imagine Ilya sparing him... she had done so in his own life, after all. But it had been after they'd bonded somewhat. She'd seen him dive in front of Saber on that first night, and been so shaken by his selflessness that she had become interested and...

Wait.

First night. Shirou's... his... first night of the War, Berserker had not attacked!

He had not been entirely lying to Rin when he said his memories were clouded, though more by time and trauma than by anything she had done. He forgot the subtle things, the nuances... he remembered the War, the events, he just forgot how those things had made him feel. He could recall Saber's smile, just not the way he'd felt when he saw it. He remembered Rin blushing because he'd said something foolishly noble, just not how flustered that had made him in turn. All of the events were still there, but for all the emotional impact they had on him, he might as well have been watching a movie of someone else's life. All it did was make him feel even more bitter, like even the tiniest little joys were lost to him now.

But he remembered the events just fine. He remembered leaving the Church, though he couldn't recall why he'd been so rattled by Kotomine's pretentious yammering. He recalled the black giant and the white princess on the hill, though he could not remember the taste of the fear he'd felt at the sight. He could see the silver knight bleeding in the streetlights in his mind's eye and knew he had dived to save her, even though he couldn't recall why he'd felt the need to do so. And then so much blood...

How could he have not noticed when such a major event didn't occur? How could he have been so preoccupied with thoughts of the War and his real objective that he hadn't even considered the simple fact that Berserker had not attacked! So early, and yet this timeline had already shifted from what he remembered... had something happened between the boy and Ilya, without him noticing? This could be a problem, if it meant that girl was now between him and...

"RRRRRRRAAARRGH!"

Okay, now probably wasn't the time to worry about it.

He let the arrow fly, watched it dig into the giant's arm as Berserker charged, and projected a new weapon, a two-handed broadsword that gleamed with a sickly red light and projected an almost palpable aura of malice. Kanshou and Bakuya would be basically useless against this thing, so he'd have to dig deeper into his arsenal, pick out the worst of the worst; hitting Berserker was simple. Piercing that skin was the hard part. Okay... let's get the timing down perfectly, split second...

Luckily, what Berserker possessed in raw power and speed was made up for by it being generally as dumb as mud. The slash could not have been easier to anticipate, it just came so fast he almost mistimed his dodge anyway and felt a few particularly tall hairs get sliced off. Of course, since he brought his newly projected blade through and slashed out the tendons on the backs of both the giant's legs, he considered that a fair trade. He tossed aside his sword, now useless having pierced the thing's skin even once, and projected a new weapon, a shining golden blade as beautiful as the last weapon had been ominous, and brought it around in a ruthless stab through the thing's spine. Is that enough for one life? Can't be sure, but even if it is it won't slow him for...

The monster, his spine severed, somehow managed to twist his body, bringing that horrific axe around so fast Archer could barely even perceive it in time to abandon his stuck blade and project a new weapon for defense. He had no time for anything but Kanshou and Bakuya, and they were...

... useless. The weapons shattered, and Archer was sent flying by the impact, rolling uncontrollably several times before managing to find his feet. Berserker was standing too, Godhand having already repaired the damage to his spine. Archer, on the other hand, was painfully aware from the shooting agony up his left arm that his own wounds were not so well off. All I did was block, and the arm is broken... your Servant is just as much of a monster as I remember, Ilya. He thought grimly. "Rin!" He snapped. "I told you to get back!"

"E-eh?" Rin said. "R-right! Hold it here, Archer, and get away as soon as I'm clear!" Rin said, turning to clear the scene. Berserker, his attention thoroughly diverted at this point, did not follow.

Archer raised his remaining arm and projected the heaviest one-handed sword in his arsenal. He had one working arm, his vision was a little blurry, he was fighting Hercules, and the one person he actually wanted to kill was safely under his Servant's watchful eye where Archer couldn't get him without fighting Saber and Berserker two-on-one, suicide by anyone's standards.

Archer smiled. And yet, still not the worst situation I've ever been in.
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Shinji's world was falling apart.

He had been so certain. So secure in his superiority, and in the space of not even twenty minutes, he had been firmly disillusioned. His Servant, that worthless, useless thing, was lying on the ground dying. The monster that had bested her so effortlessly was being faced and even matched by Tohsaka's Servant, just Tohsaka herself had defeated him... he could feel the curse burning in his blood, making his skin pale and his muscles weak. Even Emiya... Emiya! That nothing that animal that meaningless insect!... was giving a better accounting than the heir of Makiri!

"Dammit, Rider!" He screamed, his throat beginning to burn from the constant shouts. "Get up! You're a dog, so obey your Master!"

Shocks ran through the near-lifeless thing as she tried to respond despite her inability to do so. She could not stand, but she was compelled to, and the contradiction was tearing her remaining life to tattered threads...

Observing through the eyes of another, the old Magus sighed. Useless. Zouken thought. Ah, well... if he cannot appreciate my gifts, I suppose he does not deserve them. Take it.


Responding to the old man's command, the insect familiar perched on the nearby tree took flight. Shinji watched in confusion as the thing landed on his book; he knew instantly that it was no natural creature, and for a moment was filled with hope that his Grandfather had actually come to his aid.

Then the shiny black beetle began to glow a pale blue, and burst into bluebottle flames that roared across the surface of Shinji's Tome. Screaming in shock and pain, Shinji dropped the book as insect and paper were consumed alike with shocking speed. Rider faded from sight with the disappearance of the Tome, returning to her spirit form to heal... with her other Master.

And Shinji understood that without ever saying a word, his grandfather had just sent him a very, very clear message.

Worthless failure.

--------------------------------------------------------

Ilya watched the scene with satisfaction. Rider was down, and she had been the major concern. The boy was, safe, but... well, she should probably hunt Rin down too. Her Archer was confusing, and had openly tried to take onii-chan's life. Since he was strong and could wound Berserker, it was best to get rid of him right now, and then make sure his impressive summoner had no chance to make another contract. And the Makiri thing was still worth destroying, even without his ridiculous fake Command Seal. And... maybe onii-chan would be safer if she knocked him out of the war completely? Then maybe after she dealt with everyone else, she could send Berserker to remove Saber as well. Then Ilya could handle the boy's protection full-time, which would also give her plenty of time to study him. Yes, that made sense, she would...

Hearing something scuttling near her ankles, Ilya looked down to see, just for a second, something black and multi-limbed, a spider or some kind of insect. Casting her gaze around the small clearing she stood in, she saw many tiny shapes climbing along trees and buzzing through the air. Ah... so, another spectator.

"You know," She said to the night air in a tone far more mature than her appearance suggested, "I have not used a single Command Spell in this War. Berserker can be by my side with a thought. Attacking me would be unwise."

"You misunderstand my intentions, dear child." Said a voice that oozed poison. Zouken Makiri seemed to simply appear from the shadows, as if the night itself... or perhaps the rapidly growing swarm of insects within it... had simply brought him into existence on the spot. "I merely wished to gain your attention."

"What do you want here, worm?" She asked coldly. She knew, instinctively, that this thing was her enemy. Every memory she possessed from her illustrious forebears told her this; that she was not to trust it. That she should not touch it. That if the chance to kill it presented itself, that chance should be taken without hesitation because it was no longer a thing that belonged in this world. But that chance is not now. Ilya thought to the memories flooding through her unbidden. He would not have appeared before me if he did not have some escape route.

She prepared a Command Seal anyway, just in case. If he made any hostile move, Berserker would be by her side before the first worm opened its vile, sucking mouth. She imagined it would look a bit like stuffing maggots into a blender, when Hercules was through with him...

Zouken chuckled. "Such an imperious princess! Befitting the child of Einzbern."

"Answer the question."

Zouken chuckled again, seemingly amused by the ice in her tone. "Patience, doll, patience. Can not an old man care for his grandson? His Servant has been bested, and I do not wish to see him die."

"You are the one who destroyed his weapon."

"Just because he did not deserve the gifts I gave him does not mean I wish him dead. Just safely back at home where he can no longer embarrass me," Zouken said, almost warmly.

"Then you should not have given him a Servant in the first place. Anyone can tell he does not have the makings of a Master. You had to know his death was the most likely outcome of allowing him entry into the Holy Grail War." Ilya retorted.

"True. I had hoped the conflict would bring out some value in the boy, but all it did was definitively confirm what I'd already thought: he is altogether worthless, even more worthless than his father. Our family tree is rotten within, and each new generation is less than the one before." Zouken agreed. "Coming to this land was a mistake, at least for the clan."

"And for yourself? You know as well as I that Makiri has always been of less concern to you than your own ambitions. Even when you were a man..." Ilya said.

Zouken's smile only grew. "HA! My, my... your appearance had me a bit fooled. There's more of her in you than I thought, little puppet. Very well, then... let us say perhaps that Shinji is of some value to my ambitions, despite his utter lack of value to anything else. Would that make you more willing to believe that I wish him spared?"

"... That does sound a bit more like you." Ilya said. "I simply fail to see why that means I should spare his life."

"Why, because you have no choice." Zouken said amicably. "As you noted, I cannot defeat your Servant, but I can force you to call him to your side for protection. In that case, Shinji will have ample time to escape. So would it not be simpler for everyone if you just returned to your castle, content with the night's achievements? Shinji is no longer any threat, and Tohsaka herself is in retreat from your display of power! Let us call this battle of the Holy Grail War your victory, and let it end here."

Ilya considered this. For starters, it couldn't really be called a victory. Rider was dying, but not dead; the Servant had disappeared, but Ilya had not felt the Servant's spirit enter her. Archer was wounded, and Rin Tohsaka was in retreat, but neither was out of the fight. Still, onii-chan had survived, and that had been her primary goal. "Very well. I will order Berserker to stop his attack." She agreed, and even as she spoke the words, the black giant abandoned his assault in the field below, leaving the wounded Archer and disappearing from sight to begin his astral journey to her side. Archer halted for a moment, staring at the boy and Saber, as if considering his options... and then vanished as well, seemingly deciding that he was not confident in his chances.

The Makiri was, as always, meaningless. He slithered off into the darkness, most likely to some very interesting nightmares.

"My thanks, lady of Einzbern." Zouken said.

"Don't thank me for a thing you left me no choice but to do." Ilya snapped.

"Ah... you have more bite to you than the last few models. Well, that's an interesting design choice, but not a bad one." Zouken chuckled. "Farewell, child."

As the old Magus began to disappear back into the cloud of fluttering and crawling things that blanketed the darkness outside Ilya's field of vision, he paused one final time. "Oh... and was it merely my imagination, or were you defending the heir of Emiya? Quite passionately, in fact? An odd choice for the Einzbern Master."

"I don't see how that is your business." Ilya said coldly.

"Of course, of course." Zouken said, once again with that infuriating dry chuckle. "Still... I suppose that could work out well, in the end. We shall meet again, daughter of Einzbern, I have little doubt of that..."

He walked into the darkness, and was gone.

Ilya shuddered. Berserker, take me home.

She hoped Sella or Leysritt had thought to draw her a hot bath. After speaking with that walking plague she felt the overwhelming urge to jump into scalding hot water and scrub the top layer of her skin off...

--------------------------------------------------------

Rin was deeply, deeply confused.

Emiya had saved her life. Again. So now she owed him. Again.

Owe him? HA! What on Earth could I give him that he doesn't already have? Rin thought bitterly, her fear and anger overwhelming her sense of fair exchange, for the moment. Because for once, the thought of having her life saved was by far her secondary concern compared to the implications of what else had happened.

He had saved her from Berserker. Not by actually helping, but because Berserker had refused to attack him. And the only reason Berserker would refuse to kill anyone would be because his Master had ordered him not to. Hell, given the track record for Masters of Berserker, usually not even then! This Berserker was incredibly powerful, and yet shockingly obedient, meaning his unknown Master had to be... Rin hated to admit it, but whoever had drawn the Berserker card for this War certainly outranked her in raw power, at the very least. And Emiya had... somehow... managed to forge a partnership with this person.

How? How did he do it? How could he have made an alliance like that so quickly? She thought desperately. He didn't even know what this War was two days ago, and now he's already made a move that almost guarantees him one of the final two spots?! He wouldn't win the Grail, of course, not with that thing as his final opponent, but... God, of course, he didn't even want the Holy Grail, he'd said so himself! Had he just gone to the most powerful Master he could locate and said, 'I'll help you win if you help me protect innocent people'? Or perhaps he did want the Grail after all, and he felt Saber's Noble Phantasm would be enough to overcome Berserker if needed?

It didn't really matter. What mattered was that Saber, the most skilled close combat Servant, and Berserker, the Servant with the highest raw power, were somehow on the same side. A virtually invincible team.

"Rin." Archer asked, appearing beside her, and easily matching her pace despite the arm still hanging limply at his side. "Are you all right?"

"No." She said, anger and humiliation at the thought of being outdone so quickly and so thoroughly by such an amateur making her voice tight. "No, I'm really, really not."

--------------------------------------------------------

Saber was deeply, deeply confused.

"Shirou... what happened here?"

Shirou considered it. First that monster had saved him for no reason. Then he had felt his body improve enough to allow movement and had no idea why. Then he had leapt in to save Tohsaka... and the monster had spared him again, still for no reason he could see. And finally, when it was clear the thing had an overwhelming advantage, it had simply retreated.

Shirou blinked a few times, and said, "I have no idea."

Spoiler for Author's Note:

Yes, I know I said I would work on other stories first. I did. I stalled. I came back to this one.

So... no Tohsaka/Emiya alliance yet! I'm sure it will happen eventually, but I decided it might be more fun to play a bit with Solo Rin, see what she's like when she's really pushed into a corner.

Beyond that, the usual: spot any major errors, let me know.

....

All I can really say is, for some reason, I am deeply amused by the image of Berserker gently picking Shirou up and setting him off to the side. It made me giggle.

[Moczo]

Originally Posted by RadiantBeam

....

All I can really say is, for some reason, I am deeply amused by the image of Berserker gently picking Shirou up and setting him off to the side. It made me giggle.

That's what I'm here for.

[RadiantBeam]

Originally Posted by Ricky Controversy

Okay, so, I decided after all was said and done that the scenes I wrote made more sense as part of the Prologue, which is now finalized. A prologue should serve at least one of two purposes: to portend something forthcoming, or to set things moving in the direction they need to be to start the actual story itself. I feel like this version does that now. Read past the first part if you want, it hasn't been edited yet.

Spoiler:

Fate/Last Forge

Prologue

“Discretion. There is such a thing as discretion, you know.” The voice said. It filled the ears of the man tied to the only chair in the room, starting to sweat profusely from the brightly burning lamp just an inch above his head. “I'm sorry, is that uncomfortable? I wasn't really expecting you to be so tall.” The voice was conciliatory, its owner fidgeting sympathetically just beyond the swath of light. His (her? its?) form could only be seen vaguely, a weak assurance it was human despite evidence to the contrary.

“Bullshit! You let me go this instant you bastard!” the man snarled, chomping at the bit as he shifted his weight futilely. “Don't you have any idea who I am?” The man flinched and rocked back when an arm shot out from the darkness, brown leather glove gripping the rim of the lamp.

“Hey, hey don't shift around so much, it causes problems.” The voice spoke casually. It had to be a woman didn't it? No, on second thought, that sounded like a man. A boy, maybe? “It's a rickety building, you know?” A single firm tug on the lamp and a cloud of plaster fell from the ceiling onto the man's face, wires loosened.

“Are you listening to me? I'm going to have your head for this, I'm—” Then, a forceful push, and the lamp sailed into his face, the rim scraping against his scalp, one of the white-hot bulbs searing and shattering against his face as he was tipped to the floor.

“Oh, I know exactly who you are, good sir,” the voice said grandly, apparently deaf to the shrieks rising from before his feet. “Punjit Rasharl. Born May 8th, 1983 in Mumbai, India. Three sisters, two brothers, divorced, one son. You are President of Brahmin Electronics which has become quite prosperous as of late—”

“God, I have glass in my eyes you crazy son of a bitch!” Rasharl said, clawing at the fragments in desperation.

“—and you have glass in your eyes.” The voice paused, then the figure stepped into the halved lamplight, stooping down over the prone man. “But what I'm more interested in is the reason your company is suddenly so prosperous. It's the processor you've developed. It's quite a fancy piece of work. Maybe too fancy...for a normal human?” These words stopped Rasharl cold just as he'd finished removing the shards. When his one survivng eye opened, it was wide and fixed on the featureless gray mask, encircled by tattered scraps of brown leather. Even in the light, the form seemed a mockery of humanity.

“You...what are you saying? We've been—”

“Secretly developing that chip for eight years, right? I know that little PR cover well enough, I helped you cook up the details, Mr. President, sir.” The voice suddenly carried a lilting, feminine note of familiarity, and the prone man felt the last of his will to struggle leave his body, forced out by shock. “See, this brings me back to my main point. There is such a thing as discretion. Because I employed some, you never gave a second thought to how strange it was that one of your board members should happen to find just the right adviser for your needs right before you shipped the new hardware. Because you didn't employ any—” the gloved hands suddenly wrapped around the throat of the listless Rasharl, closing tightly “—it's absolutely pathetic how obvious magecraft was in your design. Miracles of science happen, but not on your R&D budget and not on your time frames. Did you even think of the consequences if normal people were to discover magic exists because—oh, I suppose you're dead now, aren't you.”

The figure released the crushed throat, leaving the body to lay in ruins while it stepped back into the shadows to retrieve a can of oil and a box of matches. After opening the can and dousing the surroundings, it hands retreated into the mass of rough leather scraps the concealed its body and produced a still-boxed pre-pay phone. It tore open the box indelicately and quickly punched in a few numbers with one hand while it stood the chair upright with the other and sat in it, swinging its legs back and forth.

“It's done. I just have the cleanup left. ...No, he didn't even have any spells to try, enhancement is all he knows—well, knew. ...Yeah, it's safe to do a wipe. ...Good, I'll expect my pay in three days. ...No, you'll have to find me all over again if you need me. Goodbye.” It shut off the phone, throwing it carelessly to the floor as it rose from its seat.

“Hey, guess what?” it asked the still body at its feet. “That was the board member that introduced us two months ago! Good times, good times. So, listen. Turns out he's a magus himself, and he called me in to try and put some hush hush on this whole processor thing when he found out about it. Remember when I told you to dumb it down a bit? Yeah, I was trying to prevent all this. So I don't want you to take it personally that some guys are going to destroy everything related to your research and life, so it will be just like you never existed. But, you know, it was your fault. Toodles!”

The figure crossed the shadows to the rotting wooden door, struck a match and threw it, turning its back as the room went ablaze.

--- --- --- --- ---

The sun had just begun to rise, the first rays of white filtering in through the library window, falling upon the seated form of an elderly woman. She sat there serenely, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap, her posture practiced and upright.

“Madam,” she heard her butler say as he entered the room. “A guest has arrived for you, a young lady, it seems.” That puzzled her somewhat, and she opened her piercing ice-blue eyes to study the butler's face a moment.

“I see. Send her in.”

“Certainly.”

She turned her head to peer out the window and heaved a sigh, her body aching as she shifted about ever so slightly in the cushioned seat. The unexpected always exacerbated her weak condition, and she had to confess that she'd been expecting a man from the voice she'd heard. The butler returned with the guest in tow and...

A man was exactly what she saw. A proud man with something of the aristocracy in him. His face full but not overly, with a healthy color and an angular jaw. He had a broad-built frame in an immaculate black suit, that took confident strides towards her. The woman looked at her butler in shock for a moment, then repressed a look of understanding.

“Ah, yes, come in!” She gestured for the striking visitor to approach. “That will be all, Pieter.”

“Certainly, madam.”

Both elder and visitor watched as the butler excused himself, closing the great mahogany door behind him.

“My name is Hildegaard Kroner,” the woman began. “My butler said he saw a woman. You must be quite a clever illusionist, Mister...?”

“Mister, Miss, for all you know either one works. It's not that clever. We spoke on the phone before and I was using a specific voice to influence what you'd see of me.”

“Oh, so what I see is a trick as well?” The woman inquired, narrowing her piercing eyes at what she perceived as a kind of challenge. She mustered the mana to her eyes for a true sight spell, but the form before her did not so much as flicker. “That's quite something. You are as good as the rumors say.”

“Hm. What else do the rumors say?” the man asked, forcing a polite smile as he cast his eyes to the carpet.

“That you tire quickly of negotiations. So, then, the reason I...or rather, my colleagues and I wish to hire you.” She gasped as pain needled her every nerve when she made the effort to rise.

Especially after using mana like that. Once up, however, she walked towards the man and spoke in a low tone. “You exclusively deal with magi who make spectacles of themselves, yes?”

“Absolutely. For a fitting price. Just because I think it's right doesn't mean it should be free.” the man said, arching a brow knowingly.

“Naturally.” Hildegaard nodded. “Then I have a name in mind that should spark your interest. Mugen Ken. I trust you know of him?” she said, smiling enough for her white but crooked teeth to show.

“Know of him?” the man asked, looking amused. “Who doesn't? The superhero of Japan, a man who doesn't die even if you kill him. The name means 'Unlimited Blades' in English, I think. What about him?”

The woman frowned at this, wondering if that question was in earnest, or sarcastic, and liking neither possibility. She regained her composure and locked eyes with him.

“We want you to deal with him. He's the greatest spectacle of them all. You see, he uses proje—”

“Yes, projection magic, I know. He's quite liberal with it. Distressing, really.”

“So you'll do this?”

“Of course not.”

“Excelle—what did you say?”

“I said I will not go after Mugen Ken.”

“But—”

“Listen, I know how older magi tend to lose sight of reality with all their politicking, but first off, that's an incredibly high-profile target, and a controversial one. A lot of people would be happy to have him dead, but even those people would be asking questions because he's such a hot topic. Second, the man is insanely powerful. Sure, anyone can beat anyone given the right circumstances, but those would be hard to come by here. Third and most importantly, I don't see the threat.”

“But he blatantly uses magic every day with news cameras watching! Millions of people have seen it!”

“...except that he's so fast that nobody except a skilled magus—such as yourself!—would ever notice he's replacing his swords. To everyone else, it just looks like he keeps using the same ones. He knows what discretion is.”

Hildegaard's face soured considerably. The rumor mill had painted a picture of this person in her head that was clearly exaggerated. He was supposed to be a monster, a fanatic begging for handouts. Resistance was the last thing she'd accounted for. Yet, all was not lost if she were willing to be just a little flexible.

“Well, I had not intended to tell you this,” she said, closing her eyes and heaving a great sigh to punctuate her disappointment, “but my colleagues and I have it on good authority that another Holy Grail War is soon to take place in Fuyuki City. We believe very strongly that Mugen Ken will assert himself in it to try to contain the situation. This will, of course, greatly increase the risk of the War becoming a public event, which would be...” she let the sentence hang in the air, and that seemed to perk the man's interest.

“I see. Well, that clears up all my objections, but raises one last question.”

“If I answer it to the best of my ability, will you take this job?”

“For that and fifty million Euros, yes.”

“You are a costly man, but very well. Ask.”

“Why do you think Mugen Ken will get himself involved? How do you know he's even aware of the Grail? He doesn't have any connections to the Mage's Association or the Catholic Church, last I heard.”

“Ah, certain information in our possession suggests that he was a participant from the previous Holy Grail War.”

“A master?”

“Likely, but possibly a servant.”

“...well, you certainly aren't making it much easier on me, but that should be enough.” the man said, raising a hand to stroke his chin. “I'll do it.”

“Excellent.” Hildegaard reached into a sleeve with the opposite hand and produced a folded piece of paper for the man. “The supply point will be in Fuyuki City itself, the particulars are written there, and more information will be waiting for you when you arrive.”

“Right, right. You can call me Cloth,” the man said, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket. “I'll contact you as soon as I get to Fuyuki.”

Hildegaard nodded and watched him walk to the door, studying him with uncertainty. Was someone who asked so many questions and complained so much really the beast she'd been described? For a moment she wondered if she'd simply hired a different person altogether.

Still, his illusions are powerful... For some reason, an idle thought passed out her lips at that moment.

“Cloth, I suppose it would be futile to ask what you actually look like?” She thought herself frivolous for asking, but could only watch as the man suddenly stopped at the door. Without a word, he turned to look over his shoulder, and on that handsome face was a smile like an infection, twisting its away across his features. His eyes were hungry, and she had to resist the strong urge to collapse from the sudden change. When she regained control of herself, he was gone.

--- --- --- --- ---

Tohsaka Rin was no stranger to mixed feelings. The life of a magus only grew more complicated with time and growth, and being a prodigy made the age of twenty-five rather difficult.

And the Association has never been shy about taking its dues, she thought reflexively. This is something else entirely, though. Her eyes remained sharply focused on the double doors across the room from her even as she worked to effect boredom. Her bi-annual seminar had ended earlier that morning, her bags were packed, and now she'd be missing her flight out of Heathrow.

Sorry, Shirou. In truth, that anything would prolong the ten days they'd already been apart bothered her more than the idea of being directly summoned by The Clock Tower's lords. She let herself glance over to her left, where a secretary was very clearly picking up on Rin's frustration.

“Was ist die Zeit?” she asked carelessly, the secretary jumping in his chair, a horrified expression on his face. Rin wondered at it, then blushed at her error, furrowing her brows tightly. “What time is it?” she forced the English out.

“Ahh, um, it's, it's...” the man had sunk completely behind his desk, and scrambled to get a good look at the face of the small clock on his desk. Apparently at a loss for words, he mutely turned it to face her, his body clearly ready for a dive. Rin sighed and saw it.

“Eleven-fifty...no chance of making it now.”

“N-no chance of m-making what?” the secretary flinched again, and Rin wondered what business such a person had working for the Mage's Association.

Then again, that could be why he's only a secretary. She shook her head. “Hey, I'm not trying to kill someone every time I speak German.” She folded her arms and looked away, not expecting the point to find any purchase in the man's thick skull. As she heaved another sigh, the door across from her opened slowly, the chamber bailiff stepped outside.

“The lords will see you know, Tohsaka-san.” The man spoke with painful formality, and even more painful pronunciation. Rin felt quite certain he was taking a jab at her.

“Listen, I'm going to get you one day,” Rin said, murmuring under her breath when she passed him.

“Very good, Tohsaka-san,” the bailiff replied without missing a beat, expressionless. She hadn't the time to give him her best death glare as he shut the heavy door behind her. A wave of understanding, then trepidation washed over her when she scanned the room and saw none of the attendant officers milling about.

Just the lords and I to have a chat, eh? Promising. She smiled ruefully and took her customary position facing the semi-circular table, equidistant from each of the six lords. Or rather, five, and all of them making a show of not engaging her. By now, she understood what that meant. Letting me speak first because there's nothing I can say. Nevertheless, she ventured an observation.

“Lady Kroner isn't here.” She nodded to indicate the empty chair to her right.

“Quite. The Dean of Mineralogy has had to tend to matters concerning the Kroner family holdings in Africa,” one of the seated men replied. Light green eyes studied Rin from underneath a proud brow, and a close-cut head of coarse, gray hair. The acid-burn marks along the left side of his jaw were the mark of Harkaitz Ezkibel, a lecturer in the Universal Studies department.

“Matters?” Rin tried to push her luck.

“Quite,” Harkaitz repeated, smiling. When he twisted his lips into that shit-eating grin, Rin thought it somehow made his burns even uglier. She averted her eyes to scan the rest of the room. The powdered face of Benoite Moreau, summoner-bitch extraordinaire; and the fat, ever-sweaty face of Dusko Adzovic made plain their annoyance, while the other two remained calmly focused on her.

So those two don't like Harkaitz today, she thought idly. Keeping track of Clock Tower politics was about as easy as capturing light. Both take a sorcerer.

“Well, I'm here in response to your summons.” She died a little inside at the subservient words, but knew it would speed the process along.

“It is, in actuality, extremely serendipitous that my esteemed colleague Hildegaard Kroner should be absent owing to the maintenance of inherited familial properties whilst you prepare to embark on a homeward journey yourself,” Benoite said, turning her eyes up to the ceiling as she did. Rin frowned and let the purple notes echo off the walls for a moment.

“For God's sake, Benny,” a bored-looking, red-bearded man groaned, face resting firmly in his palm. “What she's trying to say is that we want to talk to you about Fuyuki City. It—”

“Mister Wesson, I take exception! My communication was perfectly eloquent and effe—”

“Shut the Hell up, Benny!” Wesson slammed a fist against the table.

Rin would have allowed herself a laugh during the brief hush following, but the words 'Fuyuki City' held her spellbound. “What about my city?”

“Right. Another Holy Grail War is going to happen, and it's happening there.”

No. No! Absolutely not. There is no way, ever, in a thousand year's that I'd let you! These thoughts fought for space inside her mind, but all her body managed through the shock was a weak “...what?”

“Masters have already started making their way there. I would expect things to begin in earnest within the week,” Dusko observed, patting his face down with a handkerchief. The casualness with which he said such a thing did not surprise Rin. No, the magus in Rin was not bothered at all. But every other fiber of her being rejected it.

“The care of Fuyuki City is fully the responsibility of the Tohsaka sisters. Sakura wouldn't clear this, and I sure as hell won't!” she shouted, regaining herself. Her hands clenched into fists immediately. “Not after what happened last time.”

“Or the time before, or the time before that?” The haggard voice came from a pensive-looking older man, his brown eyes seeming to see nothing as he faced Rin. “Or no, just because last time you saw it first-hand? How cruel, daughter of Tohsaka...”

She felt the slight pang of hypocrite's guilt when she looked into the weary face of Tamian Sophia-Ri. He had supposedly once been a vigorous man, the Clock Tower's respected and feared Dean of Spiritual Evocation. Rin learned during her first year as a student that his daughter had passed in the same war as her father. If any of the lords evoked a sense of sympathy—

No, Rin, focus. “Master Sophia-Ri, I appreciate how you feel, but that is exactly why I can't allow another war to happen on my watch. I won't preside over more death.”

“How dare a magus say such a thing, you Tohsaka are only good for tending the grounds of a killing field!” Tamian shouted, voice quavering. “Just because you have felt the sting of it now does not give you a right to...” Rin watched as he trailed off into bitter murmuring. Again she rebuked herself and mustered her composure.

“Even so, Sakura and I have withdrawn the Tohsaka family from its relations with Einzbern. We can't conduct a Holy Grail War, and even if we could, why would we want to?” She glared hard at the lords, the clear blue of her eyes turned to ice.

“Because you do, in fact, still have some business with Einzbern,” Harkaitz smiled again.

I swear to God, it gets uglier each time, Rin thought, hoping for some comfort in familiar ideas. Her heart fell into her stomach when she saw the disfigured lord lift a gold-leaf silken scroll from his desk.

“Perhaps you'll want to read this.”

She swallowed hard and approached the table, reaching out to take the scroll, hands shaking despite her best efforts. Unrolling it, Rin had a memory to match to her feeling. Something she had only seen once before was in her hands: a letter from the Einzbern family, the German written in flawless calligraphy over the elaborate illumination of an angelic woman holding aloft a grail. The white seal was made not of wax, but of a milky resin that changed color at her touch. She remembered well stumbling upon it in her house when she was a child, a thing that the very same father that oversaw her ruthless magus training had hidden from her, a confirmation notice for the Fourth Holy Grail War.

But this one is directly addressed to me. Rin's eyes widened and she suddenly felt dizzy, but made her best effort to step back calmly from the table as she read.

Tohsaka Rin, Proprietor of the Fuyuki City Spiritual Lands, Warden of the Holy Grail, Guest Lecturer of the Mage's Association London Branch and Master of the Fifth Heaven's Feel.

I have written to you with the intention of notifying you of an abnormality which the Einzbern family has discovered. In attempting to cultivate a more perfect homonculus for the purpose of achieving a Heaven's Feel independent of a spiritual focus, we have lost several models due to features unrelated to their design or intended deterioration. After extensively researching the problem at the cost of twelve homonculi, we found that their ailment was caused by their connection to the Grail itself and further, that the Grail's behavior is growing unstable.

While we have been unable to determine the exact cause of this instability--perhaps those who attempted to destroy it in the previous war should have been more thorough?--due to our inability to investigate Fuyuki City itself per familial oversight regulations, the gravity of this situation has made itself apparent to us in that the last three homonculi produced violent magical phenomena entirely independent of their will. We have managed to contain any knowledge of the situation, but we believe the time has come where we must take definitive action. We cannot predict what phenomena may begin to occur outside of our control if the Grail continues to destabilize.

To this end, we insist that you lend your aid in overseeing this Sixth Heaven's Feel. Not wishing any offense, this event will take place whether you wish it or not; our sources tell us that the Grail has already chosen two Masters at the time of this writing, including a magus loyal to Einzbern. We have also prepared a homonculus that has so far proven capable of withstanding the current Grail. We would obviously, of course, prefer to work with the understanding of our old collaborators. Expressing the Grail successfully may stabilize it, but at the very least we shall have a better opportunity to research it and find a solution, but it cannot be overemphasized that we must rely on Fuyuki City's spiritual focus to avoid further risk.

Respectfully,
Jubstacheit von Einzbern, Eighth Patriarch of the White Magi of Creation

Rin didn't know what to feel. Flashes of nostalgia for her father aside, there was no denying that everything about the scroll checked out with what she remembered, especially the imperious overuse of 'we'.

The 'we' that is 'he'. Pompous or not, however, she knew better than to think the head of the Einzbern would waste another magi's time—or more to the point, his own—writing a false letter. So, the Grail was returning to life. Even though Saber... Though the years had calmed her some, her first reaction to sheer confusion was anger.

“Wh-why do you have this letter!? It has my damn name on it!”

“An Einzbern courier delivered the missive directly to this facility's administrative department six days ago, but it was deemed prudent to withhold it from you until such time as it would not pose a risk of interfering with your lecture course,” Benoite said, a slight smile tugging at her tightly pursed lips.

“Looks like that was a good idea, way you look like a ghost and all.” Wesson leaned back in his chair. “The messenger boy did say something interesting, though.”

“Yes, yes.” Dusko let out a chuckle that shook his pudgy face. “The boy said 'Don't be surprised if you have to find new tenants for Fuyuki City soon.'”

“I think the whole thing's quite interesting, really,” Harkaitz said. “Something like the Holy Grail suddenly becomes unstable while its territory is managed by Tohsaka Rin...it raises questions.”

Rin's whole body shook, her blood boiled furiously, and yet she made no sound. The situation was clear: frustratingly, horribly, insultingly clear, and she couldn't do anything about it. Whatever Einzbern was really angling at, he'd done a lot of damage already.

“I assume we have an understanding, Tohsaka.”

She directed her glare firmly at Harkaitz, who seemed to be getting the most pleasure out of all of this.

Now would be a fine time to acquire some Mystic Eyes of Death. But he did not wither or even flinch under her gaze, and instead gestured dismissively for the door.

“There's a car waiting outside to take you to Heathrow, and the Church's supervisor is waiting in it. The flight arrangements are made. We are looking forward to the results of this war.”

Rin bit her lip, closed her eyes tightly, and spun about on her heel to walk out with the quickest stride she could, flinging the door open, directly into the bailiff's waiting hand. She heard him call out to her as she hurried out of the great anteroom.

“Always a pleasure, Tohsaka-san.”

“Fuck you!”

--- --- --- --- ---

The lady of Tohsaka was not very ladylike with the chauffeur that met her by the curb. He considered himself lucky to escape with both hands still attached after attempting to take care of her luggage for her, and scampered around to climb into the driver's seat of the car. Rin slammed the trunk shut after carelessly throwing her bags in, then with equal carelessness threw herself into the curbside seat, finding herself on a soft cushion made of person.

Silence.

“Listen,” Rin said, not even bothering to look at the person beneath her buttocks. “My morning just turned very sour, so either you move, or the Church will need to send a new supervisor.”

“Ah, um, of course.”

That's a girl's voice. She wondered at that, conjuring up and just as quickly banishing the image of a female Kotomine. I don't need lunch anymore. The body squirmed its way out from under her slowly, and Rin glanced off to the side to study the emerging shape. She was a short, stocky young nun with a rounded face, violet eyes gleaming gently from under her brown brows. Her habit was everything Kotomine had once described, black, white and austere all over. The only thing apart from her face one could see where her neatly folded hands in her lap, and a small wooden cross hung from her neck on a piece of ragged twine. By all accounts she seemed harmless, and Rin found herself looking out the window to set the sudden guilt aside.

“What's your name?” Rin asked.

“Graziana Nucifora,” she replied. She paused, studying Rin, then seemed to remember something. “Ah, Japanese, right? I did a missionary stint there for five years, I hope my Japanese is still good enough”

Rin nodded slightly. “It is, though I have to admit I've never heard Japanese in an Italian accent.” The young magus turned to smile lightly when the girl let out a hearty laugh, charming in its lack of pretense, refreshing after the smugness of the lords. Suddenly, she felt less inclined to brood, and she shifted in her seat to face the nun. “So what do you know about the Holy Grail War?”

“Oh, as much as anyone, I suppose. Ah, I mean not anyone, but I've been taught my role well, I should think. The Church takes this all rather serious.”

“Mm.”

Silence again.

“Tohsaka Rin, is it?” the nun asked. “Is something bothering you?”

What a stupid question. “The fact that we're in this car, going to my home city to do what we're going to do.”

“But you've been in a war before, right? As a Master? Doesn't that mean you approve of it?”

Oh, true. “I used to, before I actually went through it.”

“I see. Well, I'll do my best to make sure things don't get too out of hand, but I'd appreciate your help if you're willing!” Graziana chuckled her good-natured chuckle again, but Rin simply looked back out the window and frowned.

You poor girl, you don't have a clue what you're getting into. For a moment, she almost wished Kotomine were still around. Though he was a bastard, his implacable “I see” response always gave one the sense that at least somebody was in control, a relief amidst the chaos that a Holy Grail War thrived on. She turned her thoughts inward, on the Einzbern letter, and they rode to Heathrow in silence.

Later, in the airport, the two young women waited for their flight, Rin lost in her thoughts until she heard an excited whisper from Graziana.

“Oh, the news is so exciting these days!” she said. Rin looked to her, then quickly turned her gaze upward to the ceiling-mounted television showing the global news. She recognized the familiar skyline of Tokyo, where helicopter cameras frantically followed the rushing form of a red-coated man with a sleek dark-gray helmet and a short sword in each hand. He kept pace with an armored car, deflecting bullets with the flat face of the black blade, and deftly threw the white with incredible strength, bursting one of the rear wheels.

“...footage captured earlier today shows the Japanese vigilante known as 'Mugen Ken' apprehending members of the Ikebukuro-based 'Red Fist', a notoriously violent gang known for its recent high-profile bank robberies...” Rin smiled as the BBC reporter described the event, her eyes glued to the scene as 'Mugen Ken' overtook the swerving, braking car. He turned to face it and sheathed his twin swords at his hips, reaching up the back of his coat and drawing out a monolithic black blade, holding it out in front of him. The car collided with the blade, pushed it back, pushed it back, but never broke it. After a brief skid, the car was completely still, the terrified gang members stumbling out, barely able to keep their feet.

“Isn't it just so thrilling? Just like a comic book!” Graziana said.

“Yeah, he's pretty amazing.” The heir of Tohsaka nodded, savoring the warm feeling in her heart.

“He gives me the shivers. If there's a man worth breaking a chastity oath for...”

Rin turned to face her with a look of abject terror and, without a word, stood up and walked off in search of the nearest bathroom.

“What's wrong Tohsaka? Tohsaka?”

Oh, Rin. Even after so many years, deep down, you just never, ever change.

[Argent Solbright]

Originally Posted by Moczo

Wow. I leave for a few days and the FFT goes to such wonderful and amazing new heights of discussion and literary creativity!

Oh. Wait. No. It's the other thing... what was it? I go away for a few days and the FFT goes absolutely nowhere at all.

Ah, well, let's see what we can do about that.

Spoiler for Chaos Theory, Chapter Five:

Chapter 5: Hurricane

To call it a mismatch would have been a laughable understatement.

On one side, a Magus and a sorta-Magus. Of these two, Rin Tohsaka could barely even see straight and Shirou Emiya was armed with weaponry consisting of a harder-than-average stick.

On the other side, Rider. The scent of blood filled the air just from her presence. She seemed part of the darkness; like liquid night poured into a human skin. Her every motion held a graceful, deadly beauty like a hawk in flight. Anyone with eyes could tell that she was something that was simply beyond humanity. Perhaps not as deadly a combatant as Saber, but certainly far, far more than any mortal could face.

So yes, it might have seemed to the casual observer that perhaps one side held a slight advantage in this confrontation.

When Rider moved, Shirou could barely see her. As before, she seemed to blend with every single shadow she touched, almost becoming part of the background she so seamlessly vanished into them. And her speed was, of course, impossible. Unimaginable. Even with raw adrenaline gushing through his veins and his reaction time amped up to far greater than normal, Shirou very nearly died to her first strike.

She didn't come at him from the front; he had no idea how, but she looped around him in the space of a second and struck at the side of his neck, her hand held flat as if to spear him through the jugular. He snapped his improvised weapon into the path of her hand, and it snapped despite his reinforcement, but it held her back for just enough time for him to...

One of her twin nails, swung behind her charge and just now catching up, speared him in the side, lodging between two ribs. The shock and pain disoriented him, and he could taste blood in his mouth and realized that was a very bad sign. He had little time to ponder it, however, as Rider then proceeded to swing him directly into a tree with bone-crushing force. Literally. Shirou could hear the bone break inside him, and hoped it wasn't anything he needed to live...

Ha. Live? What am I worrying about that for? He wondered deliriously, watching Rider begin to walk . She was coming for him, and he could already see it, in his mind's eye, those teeth sinking into his throat. Shinji had no mana, after all, so she wouldn't waste even a talentless Magus when she needed energy so badly. I need to get out of here... He thought, still trying to focus his mind enough to actually accomplish this. His limbs felt like jelly, there was no way he could possibly stand up on his own power. He tried anyway, the edges of his broken bones and torn muscles sending fresh shocks of agony through him at the futile effort, and the Servant was only getting closer...

Rin Tohsaka watched this, and she wasn't thinking anything so silly as that. Her own mind was beginning to clear somewhat, and she saw Emiya clearly on his was to becoming the Servant's latest meal. He saved my life. Again. And... more to the point, I need his help to get out of this mess. She slid something small and brilliant from her sleeve, a tiny, magnificently cut gemstone that glowed with an inner fire. There was an A-rank spell held in there, and she doubted Rider had the kind of magic resistance that had allowed Saber to shrug off her gems. If she could land a direct hit on the head or heart, she might even be able to kill Rider here and now. Tensing her arm, she prepared to throw...

"Rider, behind you." Shinji said calmly.

Without looking, Rider threw the other end of her weapon at the downed Magus. Rin had enough presence of mind to roll, letting the weapon impale itself in the ground instead of in her face, but her shot was ruined and now Rider was focused directly on her. Dammit... Shinji really does ruin everything!

"Ah... unlike the other, this one actually has some magic worth being cautious of. But the other is a better target... I wonder which I should destroy first?" The violet-haired Servant asked.

"Either. Both. As long as they bleed." Shinji said with dark satisfaction, sweat running down his brow freely. She knew it was petty, but Rin felt a dark burst of glee. Well, at least the Gandr curse is taking hold. Enjoy spending tomorrow in bed throwing up blood, jackass...

Rider stood, one 'nail' in each hand. "As you command, Master." she said calmly.

Damn... Rin said. Rider was going to send one spike for each of their throats, and there was not much Rin could do about it. She wasn't sure she had the speed in her at the moment to dodge, and Emiya couldn't move, and a counterattack while Rider was prepared would do little but make the Servant focus only on her...!

Rider snapped her wrists, one blade flying toward each of the two humans at near-bullet speed...

And the world froze.

An aura descended upon the park, an all-consuming feeling of rage and blood-lust backed by a power as implacable and unyielding as a mountain. It was not only a matter of magical strength... beyond that. A sensation, primal and terrible, that flooded the consciousness of everyone in the area, even Rider; the feeling of a rabbit that has been cornered by a wolf and is about to be ripped apart, helpless and terrified.

Rider drew back in her chain blade before the attack had gone more than a foot from her hands and leapt for safety out of some primitive survival instinct. Something huge, dark, and horrible leapt into the space between her and Shirou Emiya, striking at her with enough force to leave the ground where she had been standing gouged five feet straight down.

Landing nimbly on her feet, her weapon coiled around her like a python, Rider stared at the scene in open fear. That attack would have split her in half had it connected... and judging by the power of the being she saw before her, it had been little more than an offhanded gesture.

Shirou looked up at his savior. And up.

And up.

It was a Servant, there was no doubt about that much. But to call this thing merely a 'Servant' seemed the equivalent of calling a wolf just a 'dog' or a tiger just a 'cat'. There was no beauty, there; not Saber's holy purity, or Rider's deadly grace, or even the somber dignity of Archer. Two meters tall, at the very least... muscles so massive and corded they bordered on the grotesque... bronze skin and inhuman red eyes... all of these things were discomforting enough. But more than anything physical, this creature was horrifying because of the aura it exuded of sheer, mindless, impossible power. Like nothing Shirou had ever seen or even dreamed of in his blackest nightmares, like watching an earthquake or staring into an oncoming hurricane, frozen in fear and awe by the unimaginable destructive potential and the prospect of certain death.

Rider, seeming so deadly mere moments ago, was rooted to the spot in fear. She understood better than anyone else present the nature of the sensations she felt, the type of creature that stood before her: if she attacked, she would be crushed in a single stroke. Even if she took no offensive action and acted solely to preserve her own life, she would most likely not be leaving this park alive if that giant decided it wanted her dead. Rin, jewel still in hand, was shaking so hard she could not even consider actually using the muscle control needed to throw it. Even Shinji, who had all the magical instincts of a stump, seemed to be instinctively aware that his life was most likely about to end; his eyes were wide, his mouth frozen in a rictus grin of sheer horror.

A Servant? No. This was a destroyer. A being wholly specialized for the obliteration of life. It had no purpose but to choose a target and attack, attack, attack with relentless fury and unstoppable force until that target was nothing but wet meat on the ground, and then to choose another target, and another, and another, until there was nothing around it but death.

So why the Hell had something like that saved him, exactly?

He would not be learning the answer to this that night, however, as the black giant threw back its head and roared, a sound that shook the earth. Shirou could feel his broken bones vibrate painfully and winced. And with that roar, Berserker charged.
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Berserker was not a protector. He was a killer, and had no other purpose. He could protect, in a sense, as he protected Ilya; by destroying everything in the area with the slightest hostile intent towards her, until she gave him the order to stop. And so he would do such with the boy she had ordered him to defend. And as there was not one thing in this park that had not showed hostility towards the boy during the time Ilya and Berserker had been observing the battle, Berserker would kill, and kill, and kill, until there was not even one living thing standing to harm his protectorate. Ilya had not given him orders to the contrary; she cared only for the boy's safety, nothing else. There were three moving things within the field of his senses that had presented a threat to the boy. All three of those things would die here.

The greatest threat, the thing that stood out the most against the violent red mist that was Berserker's mind, was the Servant. So he attacked her first. She was quick, and agile, but Berserker's speed was a match for her. She leapt into the trees, but they shattered like toothpicks to the swings of Berserker's monstrous weapon. The only problem was his size... he needed to break those trees to move, but Rider did not. She could pass more quickly, gain distance. But she could not stop dodging, could not counter at all. Her attacks were less than fleabites, her defenses no more use than wet cloth. All Berserker needed to do was keep her in range long enough to land even a single blow. A single blow would be enough to end this 'battle', and it was only a matter of time until that blow landed. Berserker just needed to keep swinging. They would, eventually, run out of trees to get in the way...

There.

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Rin was not entirely sure what she should be doing.

The battle between the two Servants sounded like a lunatic woodchipper. The space among the trees was as black as pitch; the only way to tell where they were was by following the sounds of shattering wood and the occasional roar of the giant.

So what should she do about it? Archer was on his way, but... she was not confident in his ability to halt that monster. Perhaps she should just flee? But... Emiya had saved her life. She couldn't leave him here with that thing, right? She owed him. But using anything but her entire stockpile of gems against that thing would be pointless; her normal magic would be no more use than trying to browbeat it into submission with a severe scolding. Could she really afford to give up her best weapons just to help Emiya? Yes, he had saved her, but didn't she have her own life to consider too? There was a War going on, and...

Something limp and black was hurled out of the woods like a rag-doll, taking the choice out of her hands.

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The space between the trees had been too large.

This was a park, the trees were not all close together. It was simply Rider's poor luck that she chose a path that lead to a clearing large enough for Berserker's body to fit without smashing any. She took the wrong path, that was all. And when she did, Berserker closed the gap. It was really all over once that happened. Rider was still a Servant, of course, and knew she was about to be struck; she twisted her body out of the way in midair, and defended with her own weapon.

This kept her from being sliced completely in half at the waist, but not by much.

Sent flying, limp and broken, the Servant slammed into the ground with bruising force and skidded to a halt. She was still technically in one piece, still alive, but she would not stand again. It was not a question of power or mana, but of structure; her abdominal muscles had been completely shredded, the only thing holding her body together was her spine. Attempting to stand would cause her to break in half, Servant or no. Her legs flopped uselessly, and she coughed up blood.

She was still alive, and so Berserker's blood screamed at him to kill her even as her own Master screamed uselessly for her to stand and defend him. It would be simple to finish her. A single blow; just one more blow would finish her off.

But no. There were more important matters for him; his Master's command, the only thing that could overcome the Servant's natural blood-lust even temporarily.

'Protect the Boy'.

He had protected the boy from the Servant well enough, she was no longer a threat and would not heal any time soon. The priority, the closest thing to a thought he could have, was the impulse to deal with potential dangers, and the greatest danger now present was the girl with the shining magic jewel in her hand...

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Rin saw Rider fall to earth like so much useless meat.

She heard Shinji panic, screaming at the woman to rise even though anyone with eyes could tell the wounds would not allow it.

And most of all, she saw the black giant turn its eyes towards her, and all other thought was torn away by the knowledge that she was about to die. Rider was a Servant, and even she had been helpless against that thing; how could Rin possibly have the slightest hope of success? Escape was impossible, victory was impossible...

Shinji continued to wail at his fallen Servant, berating her for her uselessness. The Command Seal caused her visible pain as she tried to obey despite the limitations of her broken body.

Well, that decides that, then. Rin thought. She planted her feet and flipped another pair of jewels to her hand, leaving her holding three. Maybe she could at least do some real damage before that thing took her apart. If she was going to die, she would go out with some dignity, not whimpering like a beaten dog. She was a Magus of Tohsaka, and if nothing else she could die well.

The giant charged; fast, impossibly fast, she probably wouldn't even have time to fire but maybe she could detonate the gems while it was on top of her and ripping her apart and...

Something red pushed leapt between her and the giant. It couldn't have been fast enough to react. It had to have simply been moving in that direction before the giant had even started its rush, assuming that she would be next. Archer...? She thought in dazed hope. But no, the wrong shade of red, and...

Shirou Emiya stood before her, his arms raised as if to use his own body as a shield.

Rin would have found it rather sweet if it weren't the single stupidest thing she'd ever seen in her life. For starters, that thing was just going to stomp over him, he was no shield at all. Also, how was even moving? Hadn't he been too hurt to stand? The incongruity of the situation nearly made her laugh out loud, if she weren't painfully aware that it had been almost half a second since the monster had charged and the axe-sword was already descending...

And stopping?

What the Hell?

The giant stopped in its tracks, its weapon halted roughly an inch away from Emiya's face.

Shirou's eyes widened in confusion. He had... well, sorta been expecting to be dead at this point.

"Um... huh?" Rin said. She couldn't help it.

Berserker, with the air of a gorilla lifting a kitten, placed its hand delicately around Shirou's waist, lifted him bodily as if he weighed no more than a feather, and softly deposited him several feet away. The scene was surreal beyond imagination; Shirou was so shocked he didn't even think to struggle. Even Shinji fell silent.

Then the giant turned back to Rin, and she was reminded that she really, really should have run away. The creature raised its arm...

And something long, silver, and sharp slammed home, impaling it through the chest.

"Get back, Rin!" Archer commanded, firing his next projection. The first had not hit the heart, it wouldn't have taken a life, but it at had at least pierced the skin and gotten the monster's attention. The next shot might... be batted aside uselessly. Ah, well, he'd known this wouldn't be easy. Saber rushed past him, to place herself between Berserker and her own Master, holding her sword at the ready and staring on the Destroyer with no fear.

Archer was confused by that. His eyes had seen things very well before he'd found a good position to attack, and he'd seen the way Berserker had been behaving around Shirou. Despite several opportunities, the giant Servant had not killed the boy. Why not? It was not as though he couldn't imagine Ilya sparing him... she had done so in his own life, after all. But it had been after they'd bonded somewhat. She'd seen him dive in front of Saber on that first night, and been so shaken by his selflessness that she had become interested and...

Wait.

First night. Shirou's... his... first night of the War, Berserker had not attacked!

He had not been entirely lying to Rin when he said his memories were clouded, though more by time and trauma than by anything she had done. He forgot the subtle things, the nuances... he remembered the War, the events, he just forgot how those things had made him feel. He could recall Saber's smile, just not the way he'd felt when he saw it. He remembered Rin blushing because he'd said something foolishly noble, just not how flustered that had made him in turn. All of the events were still there, but for all the emotional impact they had on him, he might as well have been watching a movie of someone else's life. All it did was make him feel even more bitter, like even the tiniest little joys were lost to him now.

But he remembered the events just fine. He remembered leaving the Church, though he couldn't recall why he'd been so rattled by Kotomine's pretentious yammering. He recalled the black giant and the white princess on the hill, though he could not remember the taste of the fear he'd felt at the sight. He could see the silver knight bleeding in the streetlights in his mind's eye and knew he had dived to save her, even though he couldn't recall why he'd felt the need to do so. And then so much blood...

How could he have not noticed when such a major event didn't occur? How could he have been so preoccupied with thoughts of the War and his real objective that he hadn't even considered the simple fact that Berserker had not attacked! So early, and yet this timeline had already shifted from what he remembered... had something happened between the boy and Ilya, without him noticing? This could be a problem, if it meant that girl was now between him and...

"RRRRRRRAAARRGH!"

Okay, now probably wasn't the time to worry about it.

He let the arrow fly, watched it dig into the giant's arm as Berserker charged, and projected a new weapon, a two-handed broadsword that gleamed with a sickly red light and projected an almost palpable aura of malice. Kanshou and Bakuya would be basically useless against this thing, so he'd have to dig deeper into his arsenal, pick out the worst of the worst; hitting Berserker was simple. Piercing that skin was the hard part. Okay... let's get the timing down perfectly, split second...

Luckily, what Berserker possessed in raw power and speed was made up for by it being generally as dumb as mud. The slash could not have been easier to anticipate, it just came so fast he almost mistimed his dodge anyway and felt a few particularly tall hairs get sliced off. Of course, since he brought his newly projected blade through and slashed out the tendons on the backs of both the giant's legs, he considered that a fair trade. He tossed aside his sword, now useless having pierced the thing's skin even once, and projected a new weapon, a shining golden blade as beautiful as the last weapon had been ominous, and brought it around in a ruthless stab through the thing's spine. Is that enough for one life? Can't be sure, but even if it is it won't slow him for...

The monster, his spine severed, somehow managed to twist his body, bringing that horrific axe around so fast Archer could barely even perceive it in time to abandon his stuck blade and project a new weapon for defense. He had no time for anything but Kanshou and Bakuya, and they were...

... useless. The weapons shattered, and Archer was sent flying by the impact, rolling uncontrollably several times before managing to find his feet. Berserker was standing too, Godhand having already repaired the damage to his spine. Archer, on the other hand, was painfully aware from the shooting agony up his left arm that his own wounds were not so well off. All I did was block, and the arm is broken... your Servant is just as much of a monster as I remember, Ilya. He thought grimly. "Rin!" He snapped. "I told you to get back!"

"E-eh?" Rin said. "R-right! Hold it here, Archer, and get away as soon as I'm clear!" Rin said, turning to clear the scene. Berserker, his attention thoroughly diverted at this point, did not follow.

Archer raised his remaining arm and projected the heaviest one-handed sword in his arsenal. He had one working arm, his vision was a little blurry, he was fighting Hercules, and the one person he actually wanted to kill was safely under his Servant's watchful eye where Archer couldn't get him without fighting Saber and Berserker two-on-one, suicide by anyone's standards.

Archer smiled. And yet, still not the worst situation I've ever been in.
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Shinji's world was falling apart.

He had been so certain. So secure in his superiority, and in the space of not even twenty minutes, he had been firmly disillusioned. His Servant, that worthless, useless thing, was lying on the ground dying. The monster that had bested her so effortlessly was being faced and even matched by Tohsaka's Servant, just Tohsaka herself had defeated him... he could feel the curse burning in his blood, making his skin pale and his muscles weak. Even Emiya... Emiya! That nothing that animal that meaningless insect!... was giving a better accounting than the heir of Makiri!

"Dammit, Rider!" He screamed, his throat beginning to burn from the constant shouts. "Get up! You're a dog, so obey your Master!"

Shocks ran through the near-lifeless thing as she tried to respond despite her inability to do so. She could not stand, but she was compelled to, and the contradiction was tearing her remaining life to tattered threads...

Observing through the eyes of another, the old Magus sighed. Useless. Zouken thought. Ah, well... if he cannot appreciate my gifts, I suppose he does not deserve them. Take it.


Responding to the old man's command, the insect familiar perched on the nearby tree took flight. Shinji watched in confusion as the thing landed on his book; he knew instantly that it was no natural creature, and for a moment was filled with hope that his Grandfather had actually come to his aid.

Then the shiny black beetle began to glow a pale blue, and burst into bluebottle flames that roared across the surface of Shinji's Tome. Screaming in shock and pain, Shinji dropped the book as insect and paper were consumed alike with shocking speed. Rider faded from sight with the disappearance of the Tome, returning to her spirit form to heal... with her other Master.

And Shinji understood that without ever saying a word, his grandfather had just sent him a very, very clear message.

Worthless failure.

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Ilya watched the scene with satisfaction. Rider was down, and she had been the major concern. The boy was, safe, but... well, she should probably hunt Rin down too. Her Archer was confusing, and had openly tried to take onii-chan's life. Since he was strong and could wound Berserker, it was best to get rid of him right now, and then make sure his impressive summoner had no chance to make another contract. And the Makiri thing was still worth destroying, even without his ridiculous fake Command Seal. And... maybe onii-chan would be safer if she knocked him out of the war completely? Then maybe after she dealt with everyone else, she could send Berserker to remove Saber as well. Then Ilya could handle the boy's protection full-time, which would also give her plenty of time to study him. Yes, that made sense, she would...

Hearing something scuttling near her ankles, Ilya looked down to see, just for a second, something black and multi-limbed, a spider or some kind of insect. Casting her gaze around the small clearing she stood in, she saw many tiny shapes climbing along trees and buzzing through the air. Ah... so, another spectator.

"You know," She said to the night air in a tone far more mature than her appearance suggested, "I have not used a single Command Spell in this War. Berserker can be by my side with a thought. Attacking me would be unwise."

"You misunderstand my intentions, dear child." Said a voice that oozed poison. Zouken Makiri seemed to simply appear from the shadows, as if the night itself... or perhaps the rapidly growing swarm of insects within it... had simply brought him into existence on the spot. "I merely wished to gain your attention."

"What do you want here, worm?" She asked coldly. She knew, instinctively, that this thing was her enemy. Every memory she possessed from her illustrious forebears told her this; that she was not to trust it. That she should not touch it. That if the chance to kill it presented itself, that chance should be taken without hesitation because it was no longer a thing that belonged in this world. But that chance is not now. Ilya thought to the memories flooding through her unbidden. He would not have appeared before me if he did not have some escape route.

She prepared a Command Seal anyway, just in case. If he made any hostile move, Berserker would be by her side before the first worm opened its vile, sucking mouth. She imagined it would look a bit like stuffing maggots into a blender, when Hercules was through with him...

Zouken chuckled. "Such an imperious princess! Befitting the child of Einzbern."

"Answer the question."

Zouken chuckled again, seemingly amused by the ice in her tone. "Patience, doll, patience. Can not an old man care for his grandson? His Servant has been bested, and I do not wish to see him die."

"You are the one who destroyed his weapon."

"Just because he did not deserve the gifts I gave him does not mean I wish him dead. Just safely back at home where he can no longer embarrass me," Zouken said, almost warmly.

"Then you should not have given him a Servant in the first place. Anyone can tell he does not have the makings of a Master. You had to know his death was the most likely outcome of allowing him entry into the Holy Grail War." Ilya retorted.

"True. I had hoped the conflict would bring out some value in the boy, but all it did was definitively confirm what I'd already thought: he is altogether worthless, even more worthless than his father. Our family tree is rotten within, and each new generation is less than the one before." Zouken agreed. "Coming to this land was a mistake, at least for the clan."

"And for yourself? You know as well as I that Makiri has always been of less concern to you than your own ambitions. Even when you were a man..." Ilya said.

Zouken's smile only grew. "HA! My, my... your appearance had me a bit fooled. There's more of her in you than I thought, little puppet. Very well, then... let us say perhaps that Shinji is of some value to my ambitions, despite his utter lack of value to anything else. Would that make you more willing to believe that I wish him spared?"

"... That does sound a bit more like you." Ilya said. "I simply fail to see why that means I should spare his life."

"Why, because you have no choice." Zouken said amicably. "As you noted, I cannot defeat your Servant, but I can force you to call him to your side for protection. In that case, Shinji will have ample time to escape. So would it not be simpler for everyone if you just returned to your castle, content with the night's achievements? Shinji is no longer any threat, and Tohsaka herself is in retreat from your display of power! Let us call this battle of the Holy Grail War your victory, and let it end here."

Ilya considered this. For starters, it couldn't really be called a victory. Rider was dying, but not dead; the Servant had disappeared, but Ilya had not felt the Servant's spirit enter her. Archer was wounded, and Rin Tohsaka was in retreat, but neither was out of the fight. Still, onii-chan had survived, and that had been her primary goal. "Very well. I will order Berserker to stop his attack." She agreed, and even as she spoke the words, the black giant abandoned his assault in the field below, leaving the wounded Archer and disappearing from sight to begin his astral journey to her side. Archer halted for a moment, staring at the boy and Saber, as if considering his options... and then vanished as well, seemingly deciding that he was not confident in his chances.

The Makiri was, as always, meaningless. He slithered off into the darkness, most likely to some very interesting nightmares.

"My thanks, lady of Einzbern." Zouken said.

"Don't thank me for a thing you left me no choice but to do." Ilya snapped.

"Ah... you have more bite to you than the last few models. Well, that's an interesting design choice, but not a bad one." Zouken chuckled. "Farewell, child."

As the old Magus began to disappear back into the cloud of fluttering and crawling things that blanketed the darkness outside Ilya's field of vision, he paused one final time. "Oh... and was it merely my imagination, or were you defending the heir of Emiya? Quite passionately, in fact? An odd choice for the Einzbern Master."

"I don't see how that is your business." Ilya said coldly.

"Of course, of course." Zouken said, once again with that infuriating dry chuckle. "Still... I suppose that could work out well, in the end. We shall meet again, daughter of Einzbern, I have little doubt of that..."

He walked into the darkness, and was gone.

Ilya shuddered. Berserker, take me home.

She hoped Sella or Leysritt had thought to draw her a hot bath. After speaking with that walking plague she felt the overwhelming urge to jump into scalding hot water and scrub the top layer of her skin off...

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Rin was deeply, deeply confused.

Emiya had saved her life. Again. So now she owed him. Again.

Owe him? HA! What on Earth could I give him that he doesn't already have? Rin thought bitterly, her fear and anger overwhelming her sense of fair exchange, for the moment. Because for once, the thought of having her life saved was by far her secondary concern compared to the implications of what else had happened.

He had saved her from Berserker. Not by actually helping, but because Berserker had refused to attack him. And the only reason Berserker would refuse to kill anyone would be because his Master had ordered him not to. Hell, given the track record for Masters of Berserker, usually not even then! This Berserker was incredibly powerful, and yet shockingly obedient, meaning his unknown Master had to be... Rin hated to admit it, but whoever had drawn the Berserker card for this War certainly outranked her in raw power, at the very least. And Emiya had... somehow... managed to forge a partnership with this person.

How? How did he do it? How could he have made an alliance like that so quickly? She thought desperately. He didn't even know what this War was two days ago, and now he's already made a move that almost guarantees him one of the final two spots?! He wouldn't win the Grail, of course, not with that thing as his final opponent, but... God, of course, he didn't even want the Holy Grail, he'd said so himself! Had he just gone to the most powerful Master he could locate and said, 'I'll help you win if you help me protect innocent people'? Or perhaps he did want the Grail after all, and he felt Saber's Noble Phantasm would be enough to overcome Berserker if needed?

It didn't really matter. What mattered was that Saber, the most skilled close combat Servant, and Berserker, the Servant with the highest raw power, were somehow on the same side. A virtually invincible team.

"Rin." Archer asked, appearing beside her, and easily matching her pace despite the arm still hanging limply at his side. "Are you all right?"

"No." She said, anger and humiliation at the thought of being outdone so quickly and so thoroughly by such an amateur making her voice tight. "No, I'm really, really not."

--------------------------------------------------------

Saber was deeply, deeply confused.

"Shirou... what happened here?"

Shirou considered it. First that monster had saved him for no reason. Then he had felt his body improve enough to allow movement and had no idea why. Then he had leapt in to save Tohsaka... and the monster had spared him again, still for no reason he could see. And finally, when it was clear the thing had an overwhelming advantage, it had simply retreated.

Shirou blinked a few times, and said, "I have no idea."

Spoiler for Author's Note:

Yes, I know I said I would work on other stories first. I did. I stalled. I came back to this one.

So... no Tohsaka/Emiya alliance yet! I'm sure it will happen eventually, but I decided it might be more fun to play a bit with Solo Rin, see what she's like when she's really pushed into a corner.

Beyond that, the usual: spot any major errors, let me know.

I love the situation right now. Somehow I'm always thrilled to see a semingly weak character suddenly gain overwhelming advantage Especially, since its Rin doing the commentary.

[RadiantBeam]

So, um, just a general question for the FFT: in general, how important was the whole Kotomine/Shirou fist fight near the end of HF? I ask because currently, as Rain is shaping up, I might be in a situation where I need to cut it completely, or change it so it goes down differently from how it goes in canon. I ask because I have some ideas, but I'm still kind of nervous about it.

[Moczo]

Well... I'd say it depends on Shirou. Rain is a Sakura/Rin story, and Kotomine was important because he was a perfect opposite to Shirou. So I'd say it's cut-able unless you're going to be focused extensively on Shirou's development too, alongside the main plotline. And even then, it depends on how close you want his development to be to what it was in HF, I guess.

[RadiantBeam]

Originally Posted by Moczo

Well... I'd say it depends on Shirou. Rain is a Sakura/Rin story, and Kotomine was important because he was a perfect opposite to Shirou. So I'd say it's cut-able unless you're going to be focused extensively on Shirou's development too, alongside the main plotline. And even then, it depends on how close you want his development to be to what it was in HF, I guess.

Well, part of the problem I'm facing is that Rain is largely a Rin-centric story, with a lot of focus on her own struggles and ideals as she tries to come to terms with what she wants as opposed as to what she feels she has to do. So while Shirou definitely gets some development, it's not quite true to the original focus he had in HF, because Rain is more a story focused on Rin's problems and demons, and less on Shirou's, though he has his own set of issues to deal with. Which is part of why I'm hesitant about the whole thing; I plan to have Rin and Kotomine interact a bit in Rain, but I don't know how much it would change compared to the relationship they have in Fate or UBW.

[Altima of the Gates]

Originally Posted by RadiantBeam

Well, part of the problem I'm facing is that Rain is largely a Rin-centric story, with a lot of focus on her own struggles and ideals as she tries to come to terms with what she wants as opposed as to what she feels she has to do. So while Shirou definitely gets some development, it's not quite true to the original focus he had in HF, because Rain is more a story focused on Rin's problems and demons, and less on Shirou's, though he has his own set of issues to deal with. Which is part of why I'm hesitant about the whole thing; I plan to have Rin and Kotomine interact a bit in Rain, but I don't know how much it would change compared to the relationship they have in Fate or UBW.

Well mostly I would think it would give him more chances to troll Rin. Her hard, tower-like defense is crumbling, so if she did go to see him, he'd be reaching his hands deep in those crevices of weakness and trying to uproot her. This would be just one more part of her trails to overcome her demons as you've said. Plus you've got a wealth of things Kotomine is hiding from her; her father's killer, how her mother went insane, how he pulled the strings to unhinge her 'uncle' Kariya, I even think he knew what happened with Sakura in the 4th War(I might be wrong, I need to read over Fate/zero again). So much stuff, she's a troll's paradise.

[Tiresias]

Erm, right. Moczo, I forgot to mention this tiny, insignificant, plot-irrelevant detail: Hercules was a roman name, his name was Heracles. normally this wouldn't matter much, but the name Hercules had brought back horrifying flashbacks of 1)Kevin Sorbo's misadventures, and 2)Disney's bastardization of the story.

[Argent Solbright]

Originally Posted by Tiresias

Erm, right. Moczo, I forgot to mention this tiny, insignificant, plot-irrelevant detail: Hercules was a roman name, his name was Heracles. normally this wouldn't matter much, but the name Hercules had brought back horrifying flashbacks of 1)Kevin Sorbo's misadventures, and 2)Disney's bastardization of the story.

I like those two adaptations Until now I always use 'Hercules' in my mind to refer to that character.

[Ricky Controversy]

If you want to get real technical, it's Herakles. Yay Greek!