Fate/Zero Desire

When the Dust Settles Down

Artoria Pendragon was no stranger to dangerous situations. Her whole childhood was amidst the dark times that came with the fall of Rome, where one did not know if they would live to see the next day. Then, when she ascended to become king, it was battle after battle with wave after wave of enemies - barbarians, her uncle Vortigern, her sister Morgan, and, eventually, her demise against Mordred. 

Yet, in none of these situations had she been so on edge as when she forgot the first genuine advice of her Master and let Irisviel Von Einzbern take the wheel.

It wasn't that her skills on the wheel were bad. Au contraire, as Lancelot would say at times. If anything, they were very good considering how she could handle riding a car at 100 km per hour in something designed to go through with 60 in mind.

But…well, the problem spoke for itself.

“Ah! Are you seeing how fast this beauty can go, Saber?”

Another curve. The knight let out a weak smile.

“I-indeed…you have exquisite riding skills, Milady.”

The silver Mercedes-Benz 300SL Coupe went through another curve at high speed.

“Right? Kiritsugu personally trained me, by making me run around the castle grounds. First time on such a wide road! Ah, from all the toys that Kiritsugu gave me, this is my favorite!”

“I wouldn't call a car a toy.”

Beside them, Lancer of the ARK ran. Artoria noted that, while he was fast in battle, she never saw him running for so long. ‘I guess that high rank in Speed is not for show.’

Anyway, the hedgehog had stayed inside the car while they were in the city, but the moment that no one could see them, he leaped out of it. Honestly, the knight couldn't blame him.

“Ah, I know that!” said the homunculus. “It's what I call the gifts that Kiritsugu gave me. There was also the coffee machine, the projector, the encyclopedia…”

“Eye on the road, eye on the road!” said the Ultimate Lifeform rushedly, as the car barely managed to get through a sharp turn.

“Hey, Kiritsugu said that in our classes!” said Irisviel, amused. “How did you know that?”

The knight gulped, sending her reserves to the air. ‘Master, what went in your mind in teaching Milady to drive?’

Silence. Then…

‘God forgive me, but I can't say no to her.’

Shadow seemed to have heard that as well because of his incredulous face.

“Is everything alright, Shadow?” asked the false Master.

“Yes, it's just that you are on the wrong side of the road.”

The woman giggled, steering the vehicle to the right side.

“Oh, golly. I should have studied the traffic laws in the region! We don't want accidents to happen, right?”

‘Next time, you take the wheel,’ said Shadow.

‘All the times,’ replied the King of Knights.

“How long until we reach the castle?” asked Artoria.

“It's not too far, I think,” said the woman, giving another sharp turn that made the blonde knight splat her bloodied cheek into the glass. “We need to find a way to close this…”

The knight touched the wound.

“The only way to do that is to destroy Gaé Buidhe or to defeat Diarmuid himself,” said the Servant of the Blade. “I suppose that a bandage will suffice, however.”

“Hm, it's a shame to see that beautiful face marked,” said the silver-haired woman. “Guinevere probably fell in-” The woman stopped herself. “Uh, I mean-”

“I don't get it,” said Shadow. “What is the issue?”

Artoria shook her head.

“It's nothing too important. It's just that I was married to a woman in life.”

The hedgehog stopped for a few seconds before reaching his companions.

“Uh, I'm not very knowledgeable about these things. Is it important?”

“I mean, it's already a shocker that King Arthur was a lovable lady,” said Irisviel, raising her hands. “And now this makes me have all kinds of thoughts about how-”

“Milady, the curve!”

The homunculus gave another abrupt turn without scratching her ride and barely avoiding splatting a hedgehog against the glass.

“Oh, right! Hands in the wheel! I was wondering if Kiritsugu said anything else in the classes!”

‘She needs extras, urgently!’ said Shadow.

Ignoring the comment, Artoria said:

“I don't have much to say about our relationship. I can tell, however, that it was not romantic. At least on my part…”

Artoria knew that her wife admired her before their marriage, but it ultimately didn't matter to them: the daughter of King Leodegrance became one of her most trustworthy supporters until the affair with Lancelot.

“You have a very confusing life, Saber,” said Shadow.

The woman raised an eyebrow, glancing at the speedster.

“I would like to know why you call yourself the Ultimate Lifeform, Lancer. For all that I know, this is just an empty-”

Her eyes widened. She put a hand on Irisviel's shoulder.

“Brake! Now!”

“Yeah?!”

SCREEEEECH!

For a sudden stop, the car had managed to stay on a relatively straight path, the tires letting out white smoke from the friction with asphalt. Saber glanced at Shadow, who nodded.

An enemy Servant was close.

“I handle the talking. Give me cover.”

The hedgehog nodded, summoning two Chaos Spears beside him, floating in the air. And right in time, because two figures appeared ahead of them. 

One of them was a man dressed in rather luxurious red and purple clothes, his pale skin and bulging eyes making him seem less like a human and more like a monster of the night.

And the other-

“How ya doin' Miss Not a Man and Rat-thing?!”

TWIIP!

Adachi ducked.

“Hey, I had enough of these things today! Cut it out, would ya?”

Shadow glared, summoning another Chaos Spear. 

“Make me.”

Saber and Irisviel left the car. The knight mouthed to his friend: ‘Don't go far.’ She nodded.

The knight stared at the barriers ahead of them. The Berserker of Inaba seemed uncomfortable being there while the other man stared at her oddly, with a serene smile.

She made a mental check. She had seen most Servants of this and the other worlds already, leaving a few possibilities: either of the Assassins (she had the suspicion that Kiritsugu and Lancer knew something about the one that “died”) or the native Caster. Judging by the frail structure, it seemed to be later.

‘Are they here to battle?’ wondered the knight.

‘Why else would these weirdos be here?’ snarked Shadow. ‘Unless you think they want to make a prayer to you.’

The Caster bowed his head:

“Oh, Holy Maiden…it's a pleasure for my tired eyes to see your brilliance once again.”

Shadow turned his head.

‘I was joking!’

Saber, likewise, was as confused. Holy Maiden? 

“Do you know this…” Irisviel seemed to have other words in her head. “Gentleman?”

The king shook her head.

“No. I fear I would have remembered putting my eyes on such a unique person.”

Adachi clapped his hands.

“Ah, so it's all a mistake. Thank you very much, let's get out of-”

He raised his hand.

“Wait. This must be a mistake. You wouldn't ever forget the image of your most loyal assistant, would you?”

She eyed the man with a glare. Her mind went to the loyal Bedivere, almost feminine in his motions and user of a prosthetic arm, but nonetheless being her most steadfast knight.

“I would never do such a thing,” she replied coldly. “And thus, I insist that I never put my eyes on you until now. You mistake me for someone else.”

The Caster went silent for a moment. Then, he fell to the ground, weeping.

“MUAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

Adachi looked surprised at his companion, staring awkwardly at him and then at the other Servants, who looked just as perplexed. 

“Uh, chill guy. You look like a boy who got rejected by his girlfriend just before the big party.”

He then lifted himself from the ground, putting himself on his knees. His happy expression turned into a dejected one, his eyes looking as if they could pop out of their holes at any second.

“Jeanne, Jeanne! Please remember me, who waited for your return from the veil of death! I, Gilles de Rais, prayed fervently for you, and the miracle of the Holy Grail allowed us to meet once more!”

“Gilles de Rais? Jeanne?” asked Irisviel. ‘Yet another Servant reveals their True Name…although, why does this give me shivers?’

Adachi put his hands in a sign of timeout.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, buddy! You can't say your name to any girl that you meet!”

“She's not any girl, Berserker! She's Jeanne D'Arc!” said the man. “The Maid of Orleans!”

Adachi looked at the woman, then back at his ally.

“Dude, I think she's English.”

This angered Caster.

“Excuse me?! You don't think I would recognize a filthy Englishman?! I fought in the Hundred Year War, you imbecile!”

“Yes, I think that!” said Adachi. “Because, somehow, I am the least insane between us two! And I am a freaking Berserker! It's a travesty, a heresy, a-”

TWIIP! The two Servants ducked at the attack.

“-A waste of our fucking time!” finished Shadow. “Goddammit, I'm almost screaming for you to attack us because that would be better than seeing this crap!”

Gilles looked at the hedgehog.

“Oh, my…” he said, trembling. “What Outer God was responsible for making you, beast?”

The Lancer blinked, then snarled.

“What are you talking about, you fool? My creation is from human hands and nothing else. None of that Outer God nonsense.”

“Ah, but I see clearly,” said Gilles. “Ah, it's all clear to me now! You are responsible for making my dear Jeanne lose her memories!”

“I lost no memories, Caster,” said Artoria, curling her fingers. “As an act of goodwill, I say my True Name. I am the rightful regent of Britain, the blood of Uther Pendragon, Artoria Pendragon.”

Adachi whistled.

“Oh, so you are a royal, huh? Should I bow, give a present, or…?”

“You do not need to do anything, my dear friend, because Jeanne is no king…nor queen,” added Gilles hastily. He then pointed to Shadow. “Sent by an Outer God, you are nothing but a way to sway her mind! Oh, God, do the trials you put over your most dedicated follower never end?!”

Artoria opened her mouth, but the Caster continued his mad ramblings.

“Jeanne, Jeanne! Why can't you leave behind your blind faith in Him? He who discarded you to the flames: and to be called a witch when you should have been a saint! Wake from this slumber of yours and-!”

Magatsu-Izanagi materialized hastily to block the Chaos Spears that went for Gilles de Rais.

“Stop, you bastard,” said Shadow. “She went as far as revealing her name to you, and yet you keep living in this illusion of yours,” he summoned more spears. “I ain't so kind, however. So, I will warn you one. Last. Time. Move out of the way, or I will destroy you right where you stand.”

Saber sighed -she didn't wish to fight again tonight - but nodded.

“Demon Marshall,” said Artoria, the information of the Heroic Spirit appearing on her head. She stared at the man known as Bluebeard, once a proud Marshall of France. “I do not like to deal in absolutes, but you force our hand, especially bringing him,” she glared at Adachi. “With you.”

She summoned Excalibur -as always, covered in Invisible Air.

“So, retire yourself. Now.”

Adachi gulped. He could feel the weight of her Charisma on his shoulders as if he was wearing a bulletproof vest made of titanium.

Gilles, however, had his priorities in other places.

“Who wounded you?”

The knight blinked, surprised by the change of subject. 

“A noble spearman,” she replied.

To which Caster let out another mad laugh.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! How foolish I was! That evil God took away my deserved victory and put obstacles in something granted! Yes, two obstacles stand in my way!”

The devilish Caster lifted from the ground.

“Yes, my first challenge is to defeat the one that dared to strike against you! And then, I can slay the foul monster that controls your mind!”

“Why, you-!”

However, when Shadow moved to strike the mad Servant down, the man disappeared in his spiritual form, only to reappear atop a tree.

“Jeanne! Your trusty aid promises this! I will save you from the curse of God! And you, black urchin! I shall teach you and your Outer God a lesson in not to interfere in the subjects of men!”

And, with that, Caster disappeared again, leaving only his partner to face the two Servants.

“Have you guys seen what I have to deal with?” he asked. “Geez, that man should get a goth girl that looks like his dead girlfriend and end this.”

Saber glared at the “pro” serial killer.

“Do not dare to speak lightly of the dead ahead of me -even more about such a brave lady,” she added. “You are as bad as your companion.”

He shrugged.

“Yeah. But, even with me having Mental Corruption and Mad Enhancement simultaneously, Caster is still madder than me. It makes you think, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Shadow, clutching his fist. “Makes you think that it's better to take care of you first!” He declared, preparing to throw the punch against his skull.

However, the man jumped away, his Persona floating behind him like a ghost.

“Nope, sorry! Even if my bud thinks the game is over, I know better than that. I have my wishes, mind you.”

He made a mock salute.

“So, I'm saying my goodbyes, Queen Not a Lady and Blackie. I hope someone kills you painfully!”

With that message, the man in the suit disappeared like his partner.

Once there was no sign of either of the two Servants, Saber relaxed, dismissing her blade. She glanced at her trembling hand.

“That man…I never had someone enter under my skin in such a manner before,” said the Saber.

Shadow huffed.

“And I had more than enough time with megalomaniacs for a whole life, thank you very much,” he grumbled. 

Eggman was already a handful, and he was an ally of his most of the time.

“It doesn't sit well to let that guy walk out like that,” said the Lancer of the ARK. “He's gonna be trouble, I'm sure.”

Once again, Saber touched her cheek, where the wound of Diarmuid still bled. 

“I feel the same,” she said. Then, she tightened her fist. “Still, it was a piece of good luck that we managed to avoid conflict.”

It felt odd saying those words: the Saber class was the natural predator of Casters thanks to the sky-high Magic Resistance, and Berserker of Inaba relied on magic for much of his offense. It should be easy for her and Shadow to deal with them.

However, Saber's Instinct felt something off about Gilles de Rais. He could be a problem. Why, it was a mystery.

“Still, I feel that I have, indirectly, put Diarmuid in the sights of that vile monster.”

Shadow shrugged.

“Good riddance. Maybe the pretty boy will kill him. Or maybe both will kill each other.”

Saber had to nod at that. With his magic-nullifying spear, Diarmuid would be a good match for Caster. In her mind, there was nothing to worry about.

Irisviel gulped. Such a tense meeting. 

“Could you have beaten Caster, Saber?”

The knight nodded.

“No doubt about that. But I would rather not be caught off-guard. Casters tend to be very tricky Servants, after all. Though, do not fret.”

She glanced back at the woods. Part of her felt as if someone was watching her -a familiar? Caster? A normal bird? -but she ignored that.

“If we cross again, I will take his head without hesitation.”

A quick thought went over her head, and she turned to the Courier.

“Milady, I would like to drive the car for the rest of the way. I feel we would get faster that way.”

The homunculus pouted but nodded. It was a fair request.

‘You are more sly than you let it show, huh?’ asked Shadow.

‘You don't get far in the court if you don't learn something about subtlety.’

As the car moved on, Shadow turned to watch the woods for a final time. Then, he ran through the road.

In the woods, Hundred Faces sighed, all the two of them.

“Those Servants are annoyingly perceptive,” said one, slender and with a ponytail.

“Hmpf. No matter,” said the other, a one-armed woman. “They can't say we are watching them. Keep tailing them, and I will report to our Master.”

With a nod, the two shadows split.

To say that Kayneth was unsatisfied was like saying that rain was wet.

He was fuming with anger.

“OW OW OW!” screamed the man. “Be careful with that, Sola-Ui! I don't want to have the bone fixed in the wrong way!”

She bit her tongue.

“This will happen if you scream in my ear like that. I never had to fix broken bones before, so calm down.”

As it turns out, falling five floors to the ground was bad for the bones. Kayneth was lucky that his Mystic Code took the brunt out of it, but he couldn't protect one of his legs, so he had to patch it up.

Unfortunately, advanced healing was not one of Kayneth's specialties. He could take care of bruises and cuts, but to fix broken members? Well, the only magus he knew that could do that in the city was Sola-Ui. While her specialty was Spiritual Healing, she wasn't too shabby in more conventional ways.

“I need more practice,” she grumbled. “Since we became engaged, I never had much time to practice my magecraft.”

Lord El-Melloi put his head against one of the cushions. A few seconds later, Asuka -dressed casually -came out of Kayneth's workshop, carrying a glass tablet with her.

“Is that the Mystic Code you asked for?”

The man nodded.

“Sola-Ui, grab it.”

His fiancee complied, picking it up and pointing at the broken leg. The bone was visible to her.

“So this is like an x-ray machine?” asked the Rider. 

Kayneth scoffed.

“Those inconvenient things that can kill a person? Hell no! It's better! Not only can it look through bones but also muscles and nerves while also being able to-”

“I asked if it was like an x-ray machine, not a tech demonstration,” interrupted the red-haired pilot. “A yes is enough.”

The face of the man became even sourer if that was possible.

“Hmph. Youth has no respect for its elders…”

“Considering your dear disciple's actions…”

The man scoffed. That stupid Waver Velvet with that stupid Caster and that stupendously stupid Rider…

They stood silent for a few minutes, watching the news of the incident.

“...It's unbelievable what happened here,” said the anchor. “The investigators found a destroyed black Mazda in the ocean. According to the police, the car belonged to a man from the Orochi Association, a known minor yakuza group. After the brutal death of an employee of the Fujimura Group earlier, seemingly linked to another criminal group, commissary Hayate fears that this may be part of an overarching gang war slowly getting out of hand. In the next block, we will attempt to contact Raiga Fujimura for any…”

Kayneth reached for the remote control, turning off the television. At the same time, Sola-Ui said:

“It is done.”

The man attempted to move the leg a bit. Once he got a feeling, he moved on the couch until he was sitting and slowly lifted from it. Then, once standing, he walked a bit.

“It's holding on,” said Kayneth. “Good job, Sola-Ui.”

The woman nodded.

“Now, with that inconvenience out of the way, we can talk about other…less desirable subjects,” he said. “Lancer, come over.”

The Servant of the Spear appeared, hesitantly glancing at Sola-Ui and Asuka before kneeling to his Master.

“Milord.”

Asuka stared at his Master before standing beside her crush, slightly bowing. Seeing that this was the most respect he would manage to rip out of the woman, he continued:

“Do I need to say that today was a disaster?”

Silence. No, there was no need. They had the land advantage, where Asuka could use most of her powers without restraint, the element of surprise, and even, if only for a few seconds, an enemy Master at their mercy.

And yet, the ones to leave worse for wear were them.

“I will ask one simple question and demand an honest answer: what are your plans?”

Asuka huffed.

“Win this war, of course. What else?”

The magus narrowed his eyes. He glanced at Lancer, who had a confused expression.

“I…do not comprehend, Milord. What do you mean by that?”

Kayneth crossed his arms. His voice had a slow, yet imponent, cadence.

“From beyond the edges of time and space, you two were summoned to serve me and use all you had to conquer Heaven's Feel. Is this incorrect?”

“No, sir,” said Diarmuid, never moving his head. “This is the silent oath we made as your Servants.”

“Speak for yourself,” grumbled Asuka, reluctantly bowing her head again. “But yes, this is correct and expected of our contract.”

“Kayneth, where are you going with this?” asked Sola-Ui, bothered. “Such theatrics are unnecessary outside of the eyes of younglings.”

He tapped his feet.

“The point I try to make, my dear fianceé, is that today's developments were far from your best.”

He pointed at the Rider.

“You had the power of a high-ranked Phantasmal Beast under your armor. Yet, even using disgusting means like firearms, you failed to harm anyone.”

The girl growled but didn't answer. The finger moved to the still kneeling Lancer.

“And you,” he said. “What the hell were you doing with Saber?! Were you toying with her?!”

This brought a reaction from the stoic spearman.

“This never went in my head, sir! We were facing as knights, as dictated by our code.”

“Your code,” mocked Kayneth. “What good it did for you in life, huh?”

The man grits his teeth ever slightly. Asuka decided to put her feet down.

“Alright, no use in getting personal here,” she said. “Let's be reasonable and-”

“Reasonable? I am being perfectly reasonable,” said Kayneth. “Because of your incompetence, I was forced to waste two Command Seals and-”

The girl grabbed her Master by the collar of his shirt, pushing him close to her face.

“Don't blame your incompetence on me, you dipshit!”

Asuka understood what her Master planned right when he said two Command Seals. He wanted to sweep the lost Command Seal as her fault.

But the German girl wouldn't have any of his crap, and she hoped that the message got through his thick skull.

Diarmuid hastily put himself between the two, forcing the girl to release their Master.

“Enough! Discord amongst us will only worsen our situation!”

“Besides, it's not like you are faultless in this situation.”

Three sets of eyes turned to Sola-Ui, who also lifted from the couch. 

“My groom, a chain is as strong as its weakest member. And you could have kept fighting if you didn't deliberately aggravate that boy and angered his Servants.”

He scoffed.

“Waver Velvet barely qualifies as a Master. He stole what was mine by right, and I am the one to blame?! Besides, in a war like this, the main pieces are not the Masters but the Servants. And their work today was pitiful!”

The daughter of the Sophia-Ri family shook her head.

“Did you truly expect an early death, fianceé? This is a long war. Lancer did well against the unknown that was Saber and handled himself with dignity against other foes. And Rider…did enough.”

The teenager clenched her fists.

“More than you, cow.”

The magus turned to the girl, indignation brimming on her expression.

“Ah, you hurt me, miss! It's not my fault that my battle prowess is lacking. My true calling is to help my dear promised one to succeed in this conflict.”

Kayneth didn't say anything but sent a mental message to his co-conspirator:

‘Refrain from using such offenses. It will make you less desirable to Diarmuid.’

She glanced at the Irishman, who gave a disapproving stare at her. She felt her heart pounding a bit faster.

Seeing that the girl wasn't talking anymore, she continued:

“As I said before being rudely interrupted, you could have maneuvered your pieces better, Kayneth. For example, Gaé Dearg would be an effective measure against the black Berserker. And the scenario that you chose to use Rider's Noble Phantasm could be better. Instead, led by a grudge, you hyper-focused on the teams of Einzbern and Velvet, making two enemies in one swoop.”

The man shook his head.

“The Servants of those two teams…for all that it loathes me to admit, they are powerful. Saber is a monster, and we lost a big chance of crippling her. Her companion, the Phantasmal Beast, is also ungodly strong. Iskandar's Phantasm is fearsome, and the Caster of the boy…he's powerful.”

“Is this all the reason for your actions, however?” asked Sola-Ui. “And not the grudges against the Magus Killer and the kid?”

“...”

“That's what I thought. The weakest link in the chain today was none other than you, Kayneth. If you were more daring with your decision making, maybe better things would have come.”

Against any other person in the world, Kayneth would have destroyed them -whether physically or in a debate. However, against the one person he loved the most in the world, his angel, he couldn't muster anything to counter her arguments.

‘Why, of all people, you had to fall in love with this bitch?’ thought Asuka. ‘Goddammit, seeing you is even reminding me of Third Child and his stupid-’

“Are you alright?” asked Lancer. “You are making such an ugly face, Miss Langley Sohryu.”

She blushed.

“It's…nothing,” she decided. “Just an unpleasant memory. They are coming in packs today.”

To her surprise, the man nodded.

“Yeah…” he muttered, touching his love spot. 

‘...maybe I should read about his legend,’ thought the girl. ‘I feel like I'm missing a lot of context here.’

After a few more seconds of silence, Kayneth finally spoke:

“What do you want me to do, woman?” he asked. 

She put the hand on his chest, much to his surprise.

“Play to your strengths. A battle in a Holy Grail War isn't only about Servants but about Masters as well. And, doubtlessly, you are the finest magi to ever step into this backwater country.”

Sola-Ui, for all grievances she had about her relationship with Kayneth, fully believed that. You didn't get to be one of the Twelve Lords only by mere politics, after all. Adding to the fact that he managed to turn her into the anchor that fed both Rider of Tokyo-3 and Lancer, he had an advantage over other Masters.

“But you also are not a soldier, dear. You rigged the game to give yourself the advantage, and yet it went all unused. If you had stepped up right when the Einzbern homunculus was vulnerable rather than ordering Lancer to commit an act against his code and wasting a Command Seal, you could have eliminated two formidable adversaries in one fell swoop.”

The magus grunted.

“I need to be cautious. With the Magus Killer on Einzbern's paycheck, I need to be twice as cautious because he plays dirty.”

“And yet you demand results,” she snorted. “How can you demand things of your Servants when you can't meet your expectations? So before you raise your voice again, look at yourself and-”

“Miss Sola,” said Lancer. “Please, stop. It does not bode well for a knight to see his lord humiliated in such a fashion.”

The woman looked agape at the Servant. 

“Ah…this was not my intention, dear Diarmuid. I crossed a line.”

“It's not to him that you should say that.”

She glared at Asuka, who let out a dry smile.

“Come on. Apologize to your beloved,” the pilot emphasized the last part.

Sola-Ui glanced at Lancer, who nodded in agreement with his partner. Then, she turned to her groom.

“Excuse me, Kayneth,” she said.

He nodded.

“You are apologized, beautiful Sola-Ui,” replied the magus, taking a deep breath. “Ah, I suppose that today took quite a toll on us. For now, you are free to do whatever you wish as long as you do not leave the building.”

“A library!” said Asuka, maybe a bit too loudly. She coughed. “I mean, I would be interested in reading some books, if you will.”

Kayneth raised an eyebrow.

“My workshop,” he said. “Do not touch anything else. Or you could accidentally blow away half of the tower. And it would not be our half.”

The girl gulped but nodded.

“Thank you, Master,” she said, carrying the X-ray Mystic Code with her. 

“...I will certify that she does not trigger some of the dangerous Mystic Codes,” he said, leaving the room.

Silence. Diarmuid and Sola-Ui stared at the moon, nearly reaching its peak.

“Hm, for all that Kayneth said, I thought you were an imposing figure, Lancer,” said Sola-Ui. “You will surely win next time.”

He glanced at the woman, who…was his impression, or did she approach a bit? Either way, the Knight of Fianna lifted from the seat.

“My heart bursts in joy hearing this, Milady,” said the spearman. “For now, however, I need time to meditate about today's events.”

She seemed dejected for a second but managed to hide quickly.

“I see. But, if you ever need a friendly shoulder, I will be here for you, noble knight.”

The heart of the man throbbed at hearing that as he dematerialized.

A few minutes later, his form reappeared atop the Hyatt Hotel. Such a feat would be impossible for a human, but for a Servant, it was a piece of cake. With the Bounded Field of his Master, there was no risk of being seen.

The man touched his love mark. He remembered earlier when his honeyed words managed to stop the rampage of Rider of Tokyo-3. Even earlier, when the teenager and Sola-Ui butted heads over seemingly nothing.

And now, when the fianceé of his Master attempted to get in his good graces while his partner held her tongue against the target of her hate.

The Lancer tried to ignore the signs, but there was no way to do that anymore.

Once again, his curse eroded the trust between him and his lord.

‘...it is not fair.’

A knight shouldn't whine. A knight shouldn't let such things get in his head. But this was what happened to the honorable man.

‘All I want is to serve my Master with all I have. To regain my pride.’

He remembered bitterly the last moments of his death.

‘Ah…and I thought I could put those feelings aside.’

He hadn't heard Fionn Mac Cumhill sound so upset in his service time. Not even after a fairy stole seven years of his life. Or even when he discovered his affair with his wife.

The Knight of the Love Spot never heard the reaction of his lord to his death: by the time he finally got his head together and brought the water on his third attempt, he had already faded away. Or at least that's what Diarmuid thought that happened.

Dead bodies can't perceive much of anything after all.

He remembered fighting Saber. Of how overjoyed he was in figuring out her identity as the leader of the Round Table, a woman capable of resisting his charms. And, most of all…

That was a chance to recover his pride. Whether falling or not, a battle with King Arthur would cleanse his soul.

But the Love Spot put that at risk. His one ambition had already created a gap between him and his Master while approaching Sola-Ui and his partner, creating a rivalry that risks his team's bonds.

‘Can I even do anything to stop this madness? Anything?!’

He glanced at the moon for answers. And would keep looking as it disappeared into the horizon.

Waver's first feeling after waking up was embarrassment.

He was perfectly conscious of the reason why he was unconscious. 

‘Seriously?! You handle everything else fine and dandy, and in the end, with the exploding building, is it when you decide to kiss the damn floor?!’

‘Don't be so hard on yourself, Master. Adrenaline can be quite a thing to keep you up.’

He opened his eyes. The renegade magus was lying down in a bed, but not the one of the MacKenzies. Waver looked around.

“What is this place?”

It looked like a dormitory -probably because it was one. Five beds were around the room, all sharing the same red color in the bedding and the curtains. Two carpets were on the floor, oddly one on top of another, and the windows allowed vision from the city.

(That was something that Waver still didn't understand how it worked)

“Ah, you are finally awake, boy!”

He saw Rider sitting in one of the beds and casually eating jelly beans from a little package. He snapped his tongue as he ate another one.

“Hm. Delicious.”

He glanced at Dumbledore and-

Waver blinked. Was that an expression of envy in the Caster?

“Dumbledore?”

He turned to his Master, pretending to be surprised.

“Ah, mister Velvet,” said the Caster of Hogwarts. “You are finally awake. Part of me thought you would only return by the morning.”

The boy glanced at the window. The moon was a bit higher in the sky, so he should have been unconscious for at least an hour.

The sorcerer passed something to the boy, a chocolate bar.

“Here. Have this. From where I come from, chocolate is a good antidote for bitter experiences.”

The boy glanced at the sweet suspiciously.

“Did you get this from where?”

He gave a sheepish smile.

“Do not fret: I didn't get this with your money. I won it with some 'street magic,'” he paused. “But Rider bought something from a store from your funds, so expect to receive a package destined for Alexander, King of Conquerors.”

The Master grimaced.

“I close my eyes for some minutes, and you loot my wallet,” he grumbled, picking up the bar. Opening the package, he starts to munch at the brown sweet. It did make him feel better. “So, are we inside Hogwarts again?”

Dumbledore nodded.

“We needed a place to rest, so the mechanics of the Room of Requirement provided us with one of Hogwarts' bedrooms. This here is an imitation of one of Gryffindor's rooms.”

“...what is a Gryffindor?”

He looked at his Master, then Rider, still eating the jelly beans(?). Then, he laughed.

“Oh, dear old me! I suppose I didn't explain much about Hogwarts to you, didn't I? My sincere excuses, Master, but I am very used to people knowing about that place.”

“Yeah…” said Waver, to which Rider also nodded. 

Waver was almost sure that the man was not from that world. No way anyone could forget a figure like Albus Dumbledore.

“Well, I suppose I can explain that,” said the Caster, coughing up. “This is an arrangement created since the foundations of the castle. The four founders -Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw -all had the common wish of creating a haven for the young wizards and witches, where they could safely learn magic in a time where that was taboo. Each of them, however, valued differing traits in their disciples, and thus, each student was selected by finger and later…” he paused. “But that's a story for another time. For now, I will add that each of these four Houses had their accommodations.”

The man smiled. 

“I am a little biased to say it, but I think this is the best of them all: the Tower of Gryffindor, home of the Braves.”

Iskandar nodded.

“Home of the braves…” mumbled the conqueror. “Yes, that sounds like it just fits me! A nice choice, Castle of Requirement!”

“The castle is not alive, you know…” said Waver.

Dumbledore's smile enlarged as if asking: ‘Is it?’ Waver ignored it.

“And what are you eating, after all?” said the boy, crushing the packing of the chocolate into a small ball. “What is so good in these jelly beans?”

The man with fiery hair picked one brown jelly bean and threw it to his Master.

“Have a taste.”

The boy looked grumpy at the sweet.

“Have a taste, have a taste as if I never ate a damn jelly-”

Then, he put it in his mouth and ate it.

Cue instant regret.

“ARGH! COUGH! COUGH!”

The magus desperately attempted to let out the damn thing, but it was already too late: it went down his throat.

“Aaah…what the hell was that?!” roared the boy. “It tasted like shit!”

Dumbledore closed his eyes in sympathy. 

“Ah…it seems we share the same luck in this sweet, huh?” mumbled the old headmaster. “What you ate was…technically a jelly bean. But I spoke to our friend about a delicacy back home called the Every Flavour Beans. I used some transfiguration to modify the taste of these common beans to replicate the experience,” he grimaced. “My first pick was car oil.”

“Who would eat that?!” screamed Waver.

“Young kids,” said Iskandar bluntly. “Or adventurers like me,” he threw another one into his mouth, a gray one. “Hm. Pepper.”

Waver turned to Dumbledore.

“Did he-”

“Not a single bad bean until now,” he explained. “His luck is enviable.”

Waver put a hand on his forehead, taking a deep breath.

“So, judging by what you said, you were a member of this Gryffindor House?” he said, trying to ignore that awful taste in his mouth with some talk.

Dumbledore nodded.

“Correct. In the castle, there would be seven of these rooms -one for each year of education in this class. The same arrangement was made for the girls, with small measures to stop peeping from the boys,” he paused. “I add that they should have done the same for the boys, but alas, women were considered the most sensible ones.”

Iskandar snorted.

“Hah! Insensate people exist in all forms and times.”

“Like you?” asked Waver.

“Like me!” he replied proudly. “But I take it in stride!”

He munched another jelly bean. The Rider grimaced.

“Hm. Even good luck has its end. Still, I suppose that there are worse tastes than earwax.”

Iskandar put the bag to the side.

“You had quite the experience today, boy,” said Iskandar. “How are you feeling?”

The Master blinked.

“Uh…tired, I think,” he said. “I can barely process what happened today.”

Hogwarts, the docks fight, meeting El-Melloi, the golden Archer…

It was a very long day. And he would likely be more nervous if he wasn't so exhausted.

“Ah, I suppose this is a reasonable answer,” said Iskandar. “Many of my men slept like bricks after long battles. A good night of rest did wonders for them.”

Waver wanted to protest that he wasn't a warrior. However, his tired mind went into another line of thought.

‘Red…red…’

A memory from earlier popped into his head.

‘Oh, home of the brave lion, the cunning snake, the wise eagle, and the hardworking badger, provide me with my needs. I call for thee, Castle of Requirement, Hogwarts.’

And soon after that, the door emitted four colored lights: green, yellow, blue, and…

“Your Noble Phantasm chant…it referred to the houses?” asked the Master, his voice slightly slurred.

Rider scratched his chin.

“Hm, he's indeed exhausted. You need a good night of sleep, boy.”

Dumbledore, meanwhile, nodded.

“Your observation is correct, mister Velvet. The symbol that Gryffindor chose for his house was that of the lion, a symbol of bravery. But that wasn't the only thing that Godric valued.”

Twitching the wand, Dumbledore summoned a projection of Gryffindor's emblem. It was a white lion contrasting with yellow and red squares.

“Strong heart. Determined. Valiant. These are the three core traits of a wizard from Gryffindor. Too little, and they become hesitant to step onward with their plans. Too much, and they become reckless and short-sighted,” he paused. “And, god knows, I had to deal with many of them as a teacher and headmaster.”

Rider sneezed.

“Ah! Little brave wanderers, those of Gryffindor,” said the Macedonian general. “I would have liked to meet them.”

“And I'm sure not a short amount of them would be delighted to know a man of your standing, Alexander,” said Dumbledore. “I am pretty sure you would either be of Gryffindor or…hm, let's keep this for another day.”

Surprisingly, the King of Conquerors pouted.

“You are no fun, Dumbledore.”

Waver had a slight idea of where his other Servant would be if analyzing the chant, but he said nothing. Everything seemed so distant now…

Noticing this, Dumbledore coughed.

“Hm, we have already taken too much of your time, Master. But, before going, hear.”

The boy tried to get out of bed, but he felt the hand of Dumbledore softly stopping him.

“You need rest, Master,” said the Caster. “Do not fret. Just remember this lesson: changing the world is an easy thing. What is hard is to be brave enough to do so.”

And, with the movement of the wand, Waver fell asleep.

The Rider and Caster watched as the room slowly changed back to normal, their Master already deep asleep.

“You know that from experience?”

Dumbledore glanced at Iskandar.

“Did you ever wish to change the world, wise man of Hogwarts?” repeated Iskandar. His voice was brimming with curiosity.

The older man looked out the window.

“When I was young,” he replied. “I was pretty similar to our Master that it almost hurts. Feeling locked away, brimming with ideas that I thought were new, ready to change the world.”

Iskandar raised an eyebrow. The voice of his partner had some bitterness.

“Things went wrong?”

Dumbledore nodded.

“Terribly. I lost many things I never recovered from for the rest of my life. All because of my hubris.”

“...I see,” said Iskandar. “I'm sorry if this memory was painful for you.”

“It's alright,” said the old man. “That happened in another life, in another world.”

He paused.

“In truth, my life was one filled with regrets,” said the wizard. “If I can do anything to guide a boy with a bright future like this one to avoid the same mistakes I did in life…well, even if we don't win this war, it will be worth it for me.”

Rider smiled.

“Hey, don't be so down, Albus. There is no way for us to lose this. And Waver is not you. He is him, and that is what matters in the end.”

Dumbledore scratched his beard.

“An interesting vision about our Master…” said the Caster. “But not a wrong one.”

The Rider yawned.

“I suppose that I will also close my eyes a bit,” he started to disappear but then interrupted the process and turned to Dumbledore. “Although, I have one last question…why do you wish to teach Waver? Is it only to spite El-Melloi?”

Dumbledore glanced at the outside.

“It is not about this,” said the man, turning to his companion. He had a smile on his face. “I only saw traits in Waver that could bloom into something great. A true diamond in the rough.”

Rider let out a small chuckle.

“I see. So, in the end, you are a mentor first and foremost. Ah, what luck was to meet a man like you, Caster.”

With those words, his partner disappeared, ready to rest.

Dumbledore turned back to stare at the moon. 

It was pretty beautiful today.

Tokiomi didn't know if he was lucky or very unlucky.

On one hand, Gilgamesh didn't come and attempted to skin him alive for daring to use a Command Seal on his person.

On the other hand, he had no idea of what he would do now.

The King of Heroes, while predictable in his actions, had a wild personality. He could have forgotten that offense already or be planning a reckoning over what his Master did.

He was that unpredictable.

“Ah…It seems our golden friend has no interest in talking with us now.”

Well…for one of them, anyway.

“You seem to be sure of that, Assassin,” said Tokiomi. “What makes you certain of that affirmation?”

Robin took her eyes out of her book -a Greek mythology compendium.

“I dealt with types like him before. Arrogant types take most bumps with relative stride. He has no reason to worry: his power is almighty.”

Similar voice to a leopardine government assassin aside, the person that Archer reminded Robin of the most was her former partner, Sir Crocodile. And, as Miss All Sunday, she spent almost too much time around him.

“You met someone like that?”

“Let's say my experience with men like our gold friend is extensive,” declared the eater of the Flower-Flower Fruit. “I risk saying that I can anticipate his moves with…hm, say 70% accuracy.”

Tokiomi would have scowled, but that was not a thing a magus striving for elegance would do.

“If it's not a hundred percent, it's 50%,” said the head of the house. “This is what I learned from bad experiences.”

Robin hummed.

“A pessimistic outlook…although one that I can't help but agree with.”

The man sighed.

“I wish my Servants weren't so troublesome…” he gave the side eye to the Assassin, still thinking of the earlier incident.

She raised her hands -all ten of them.

“To be fair, boundaries do not mean much for a pirate,” she said. “I'm doing that out of respect for you and because it's polite.”

“Politeness…” said the magus, with a taint of disdain. “Where has a polite pirate been seen?”

“Being polite doesn't stop you from grabbing everything not nailed down to the floor,” retorted the woman. “The cook of my last crew was an absolute gentleman around girls, and this still didn't stop him from being a weapon of mass destruction. And being polite means that most people will lower your guard around you.”

Tokiomi raises an eyebrow.

“Speak of experience?”

She nodded.

“Of course, people would invariably recognize who I was and attempt to capture/kill me on the spot, but…I handled them.”

With a snap of her fingers, the arms stuck in the walls disappeared.

“You tend towards some dark jokes, don't you?” asked the man in red.

“It's good for intimidation,” she remarked, returning to read her book.

Silence. The man tapped his finger impatiently in the wood.

“I wouldn't be so anxious for the arrival of my partner, Master,” said Robin. “I would thank the heavens for him not to come.”

“Not so confident now in your odds?” asked Tokiomi. He grabbed a bottle of wine on his table, filling a glass.

She smiled.

“If it's not a hundred percent, it's fifty,” said the archaeologist. “May I have some of your wine?”

The man shrugged, moving to pick another glass, but rather, it was the glass that went to him, an arm putting the object beside the filled wine glass. Then the arm picked the already-filled recipient and passed it to another arm, which then passed it to two others, which was picked by Robin.

“It's rude to pick the glass of another,” said Tokiomi dryly.

She winked, giving a small sip of the ruby-colored liquid.

“Pirate~!”

The two silently sipped the alcoholic beverage. It was of good quality, not too strong, and with a delightful fruity taste. Robin snapped her lips.

“Ah…this is some good stuff,” said the woman. “Wonder if our friend would like this?”

Tokiomi shrugged.

“He's the prideful sort. I wouldn't doubt him picking a barrel from the Gate of Babylon to prove that the wine of Uruk is better than the modern one.”

“His funeral, I say,” replied the pirate. “More wine for us,” she sipped a bit more of the liquid.

Tokiomi sighed.

“I wish I could be as casual as you in such subjects, Assassin. Your presence of spirit is quite notable.”

She gave a smile.

“Ah, this comes from many years in stressful situations, Master. But even I have my moments where this mask breaks. Such as when I read a weird document not too long ago.”

Her smile widened. Tokiomi narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong.

“A…weird document?” he asked carefully. “Was it the texts from the library? I'm sure you were surprised by the language, no?”

There was no falsity in the gestures of Nico Robin. She looked more like a cat that cornered a cat and was ready to eat it whole.

“Ah, that? Yes, it was quite a surprise,” she replied. “But you don't get far if you can't adapt, lieber Meister.”

He lifted from the chair. It was rough, but it was German. 

The text in which his ancestors wrote the secrets of the Holy Grail War. And the same language that he had been teaching Rin for so long, her books stored in the library.

He was about to utter a Command Seal with a simple order - ‘Kill yourself’ -before he thought more over the issue.

‘Why did she tell me that?’

If Assassin of Ohara knew about the nature of the Holy Grail War -the ultimate fate for all the Servants called upon that world -why would she admit to knowing that? The image he got from his Servant until now was of someone who, knowing what she does, would bail out at the most opportune moment for a Master that does not know of the truth and fight for them -all while hampering her former team to the best of her skill, a movement of a true Assassin.

So the question was…

‘Why do that?’

Robin watched the man, amused, as he reluctantly sat in his chair. 

“Ah, good. I thought I would need to be a bit more brutish to stop you.”

He glanced behind his chair's back as two sets of arms disappeared. Tokiomi gulped. If he had reacted thoughtlessly, he would have had his back broken like a twig.

“Risky,” he said. “After all, a dead body means that one certain Servant will be Masterless…”

“There are ways to break someone's neck without killing them,” replied Robin coolly. “It's a useful technique when you need someone alive. And I'm pretty sure that, by the time our friends in the Church discovered you, I would be on my merry way to find a new Master to pledge my loyalty. Just another day of work to me.”

The magus couldn't help to gulp once more. Right, his Servant had a skill that told 'Hey, she will betray you!'

“I see. And yet, the reason for your actions eludes me. What is your purpose for all this tomfoolery, Nico Robin?”

She raised her finger.

“To guarantee my wish.”

Tokiomi raised an eyebrow, confused. The woman continued:

“Who are the strongest Servants in this War, from what we saw?”

Tokiomi blinked, then said:

“It's quite obvious. The name of Alexander the Great brings lots of power even with a subpar Master, as his influence is tremendous. And the fact that many seemed to recognize Saber implies that she was important in her time, even if we don't have enough to make an accurate prediction. And, of course, Gilgamesh is…Gilgamesh.”

He paused.

“With the additional Servants, things get murky…the Rider of El-Melloi seems to have a powerful steed, but it has limits. The other Archer managed to damage one of Gilgamesh's artifacts. And both the Caster of that Velvet boy and the Lancer of the Einzbern seem tremendously efficient in their work.”

“...and there lies the issue.”

Robin summoned two arms on the sides of the desk, who then proceeded to enter an arm wrestling contest. 

“Think of these arms as Servants,” she asked. “A match between Servants is a power match. And, of course…”

THUMP! One of the arms collided in the wood, dissipating in flower petals.

“The weaker one loses. I am this weaker one. In a straight match against almost anyone, I lose.”

Tokiomi raised an eyebrow.

“So did any other Assassin summoned before you. The power of the class is to allow for stealth attacks, the opportunity to slay other Masters under the nose of their Servants. This is what you excel at.”

She nodded.

“Indeed. And, with my skills, I am more than qualified to hunt any Master that dares to show its face so boldly in the field -a shame I was not present in the docks, as we would have one or two less threat in our way.”

The archaeologist took a deep breath, then continued:

“But what comes next? When only four of us remain?”

Tokiomi intertwined his fingers.

“The answer is simple. With the power of the Command Seals, Kirei and I would order you to kill yourself and allow the Greater Grail to manifest. A simple equation…” he glanced at Archer's Command Seals, “...that became somewhat more complex, I admit. That said, it's nothing that can't be fixed.”

The woman approached his Master.

“But it won't work if I accidentally reveal that to our golden friend, right? And don't say any generic hero catchphrase like ‘you wouldn't dare!’ I can be a pretty spiteful person, don't you know?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Get to the point. What do I need to shut you up?”

She summoned a hand (Tokiomi was sure that she only did that to annoy him) with two fingers raised.

“Two wishes.”

His eyebrows widened.

“Are you betting on a possibility?!”

He knew that the Grail would provide one wish for a Master and then wishes for the surviving duo in the Holy Grail War. That was the “lie” they sold. But, until now, Tokiomi thought that the wished end for that conflict would grant one single wish: to allow him to reach the Root.

And now Nico Robin came with that?!

She dismissed the hand.

“Indeed. We both do not know what comes after the end. Will only one wish be granted? Or will it be two? At least in this way, I, say, ‘rig’ my odds to end in a favorable result.”

Tokiomi narrowed his eyes.

“This seems…sloppy,” said the magus. “You don't have any way to enforce your will on me…or do you?”

She smiled, taking a paper from a space between her boobs.

“I am not well-versed in magic, but I got the principles behind this."

Tokiomi gasped. He recognized that paper: a blank sheet with red borders and a jewel emblem at the top.

“This is one of my Geas contracts.”

Tokiomi was not one to use such a crude way of magecraft -he would rather deal with men he trusted than with shady individuals. However, in some cases, being elegant meant he had to be secure that the deal was tight between both parties. Thus, he stored these papers in his workshop because they took time to prepare, and you never knew when you needed them.

“From what I read, I write the terms here, and once active, we are restricted by them. Correct?”

He took a look at the paper, analyzing it.

“Yes. It's how it works. So your suggestion is for us to write a contract? These were not made to be used by Servants, you know.”

She tapped at the terms.

“Read them. And then give me your opinion.”

He did so. This is what the contract said:

This contract is signed by: “Devil Child” Nico Robin, Assassin of Ohara and Archaeologist of the Straw Hat Pirates and _________________ (this space, Tokiomi supposed, was for his name and title.)

Upon signing of both parts, the following terms take effect:

1 - Nico Robin is, therefore, forced to keep silent over her knowledge of the true objective of the Holy Grail War and its mechanisms. A break in the contract will result in irreparable damage to her Spiritual Core.

2 - In the case that two wishes the Greater Grail grants two wishes, Tokiomi Tohsaka is therefore forced to say as his first wish: 'I wish that Nico Robin returns to life in her world.' Violation of the contract will make Tokiomi's heart explode.

He put the paper down, dizzy.

‘Damage to the Spiritual Core…’

A Servant is different from a human. They were spirits, figures that, while human in appearance, were far from that in reality. 

They could die like humans, of course. Poison, curses, bursting their heads. But not because they would necessarily be effective against them. Rather they damage the Spirit Core, the force that keeps them moving. For lack of a better term, it was a 'spirit heart.'

And Robin casually says that she was willing to put that on the line, all for him to say eleven words. 

‘The terms…they are so lopsided.’

At first glance, things seemed to be to his advantage. Robin had the worst part of the deal, and Tokiomi was safe if her assumption was mistaken. Even then, Tokiomi wouldn't need a heart when he reached Akasha. Well, he thought that he wouldn't.

‘But on a closer glance…’

“You say you can't talk about what you know. It does not restrict over other things, like writing or codes,” pointed out the Master.

Oddly, her smile didn't diminish in the slightest.

“Ah, I suppose it was a foolish errand to trick you. Well then, I will alter the terms.”

She summoned a hand that, picking a feather from Tokiomi's desk, risked the ‘forced to keep silent’ fragment and substituted by ‘will not communicate by any means.’

“Hm, the grammar is a bit weird, but it should do,” said the archaeologist. “So? Satisfied now?”

He narrowed his eyes. Besides the correction, there was one more thing:

3 - Tokiomi Tohsaka must truthfully answer any questions that Nico Robin demands. Otherwise, the condition described in the second part of this contract will happen to him.

“What is the purpose of this?”

She raised her hands -all ten of them.

“You took my loophole from the contract. I needed something to balance things up. Ergo…”

He made an ugly face. ‘What is the point of this?’

Wait, she knew that Tokiomi planned to backstab her before, right? So maybe a counter to a secret betrayal?

He snapped his tongue.

“Three. No more, nor less,” he said. “And I have the same right as you. Any three questions of my choice, no lies.”

Her smile diminished. Robin seemed to be conflicted about those terms.

“You are not in such a position to make demands like that.”

His Command Seals flashed, letting appear the form of a crimson rose.

“Am I?”

Silence. The sparks flying in the air would be enough to put the house down in flames.

Then, Robin snapped her tongue. The one who had more to lose in that trade was her.

“Fine. Be it as you will.”

The hand risked the third condition and rewrote it.

3 - Both Tokiomi Tohsaka and Nico Robin must truthfully answer any three questions that their partner demands. Failure to do so will result in the punishments above registered applied to the violating party.

The head of the Tohsaka family glared at the contract. He didn't want to sign it. At all. Then, his eyes landed on his Servant, staring at him intensely.

Slowly, he picked up the feather and put this in the blank space:

Tokiomi Tohsaka, Master of the Holy Grail War and Head of the Tohsaka Family.

BUMP!

The man touched his chest, scared. It was like a phantom hand grabbed it, ready to crush it with a single press.

Robin didn't seem much better, going pale all of a sudden.

“Oh…I underestimated how nauseating this feeling is,” she said weakly. “Like having the head in the noose.”

“At least…it was not a Self-Geas contract,” he said. “There is a reason I don't keep that vile thing below this roof.”

“Riveting,” said Robin. “Anyway, now that we have the assurance that the other won't jump at the throat, I suppose I will waste away one of my questions already.”

Tokiomi frowned.

“So early? Do you think I will backstab you now?”

“You seem like a capable schemer, but no,” said the woman. “Rather, it is something more personal, like…”

She approached the man, putting her hand in one of her pockets, retrieving…

“!”

The family photo that Tokiomi found in his workshop yesterday.

“My first question, Tokiomi Tohsaka. Who is the second girl in this picture?”

BADUMP!

The man let out a tense smile. 

“Why is it from your count?” he asked slowly, putting the hand in the heart.

“Nuhuhuh,” said Robin. “Do you want to waste your first charge on such a meddlesome question? Besides, no squirting around. Who is the little girl in the photo?”

He grits his teeth. The pressure in the heart raised and raised, almost like a balloon filled with helium.

“My younger daughter, Sakura.”

And, with these words, the pressure disappeared.

“Your younger daughter…” said the Assassin of Ohara. “Did she die?”

“This is two questions,” grumbled the Master, his breathing slowly returning to normal. “But no. She's alive and under the care of another family of the region.”

‘Why?’ thought Robin. ‘Why do that?’

She compiled what the books in the library told her about the magi culture. The power of their magecraft depended on secrecy: the more people knew, the weaker it became. ‘No, this does not seem right. It does not explain enough.’

Maybe Sakura did something to disgrace the family, then? ‘No, it also does not make sense. He tries to hide it, but Tokiomi cares about her, judging by how he kept the photo close.’

The third option then was…

“Two sisters, one Magic Crest,” said Robin. “You could only pass it to one.”

She saw the term in many books. A Magic Crest was a type of storage spell that loaded the techniques that any magi of a lineage used in life and helped to facilitate its usage for future possessors. So it was a big deal.

“You are annoyingly perceptive,” said Tokiomi. “But yes, you are partially correct. It played a part in my decision.”

Robin wished to know what else influenced his decision, but she decided to hold herself. She only had two questions remaining, after all. No sense in burning them now.

“My turn,” said the Master. “Answer honestly. Where did you find this photo?”

The woman shivered as she felt the pressure in her Spiritual Core. If there was any doubt that the Geas could wound her, it disappeared at that moment.

“In you and your wife's bedroom,” said the Assassin, internally sighing as that awful feeling disappeared. “You two had bed tables. On her side, one of the drawers was open. Moved by curiosity, I entered and found the photo. Moved by curiosity, I planted that in your workshop to see how you reacted and used Ojo Fleur when I was leaving to watch your reactions.”

‘Ojo Fleur…’ thought Tokiomi. ‘She names her techniques in a combination of Spanish and French. Fleur is a flower, and ojo is an eye. Eye Flower.’

He shook his head.

“Aoi…so she didn't take things as smoothly as I thought she did.”

The magus lamented having missed that. It was easy to see that Rin missed her sister, as it was obvious to tell what the young girl had in her mind at a given time, but Tokiomi hoped that time would heal that particular wound. But to think that Aoi shared the same feeling…

Not elegant at all.

“I burnt the other photos, in case you wonder,” said the man. “It's better to carry onward and strengthen our hearts rather than wallowing in the past.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“But if we have no register of the past, then how can we learn not to commit the same mistakes from before in the future?”

Silence. Tokiomi let out a sigh.

“It couldn't be helped…” he said. “It was both a whim of fortune and misfortune for such a result to happen…”

Robin glanced at her Master. He gave a dry smile.

“This is all I will say. Unless you wish to use another of your questions, that is.”

She smiled.

“I am a patient woman. Besides, I had less to work with back home. The only thing you managed to do is make this a source of entertainment.”

Tokiomi grits his teeth, picking up the contract and putting it inside his coat with the photo.

“The matters of the Tohsaka are not of your business. You have already crossed two lines, Assassin,” his glare pierced through her. “Beware. You don't want to have me as your enemy.”

She didn't give away.

“For someone that made an enemy out of the world, the rage of one man is like a drop in the ocean.”

They stared at each other before Tokiomi broke the stare-off. 

“Hmph. We have more productive things to do.”

He moved to the door.

“Won't we wait for our golden friend?” asked the Assassin of Ohara. “He can be annoyed by this attitude, you know?”

“I will say that he was taking too long,” said the Master. “And that his attitude is losing us time. Thus, I decided to put some plans in motion.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I see a small chance of him taking this well.”

He gave a dry grin.

“If it's not zero, it's fifty percent.”

Kirei wondered what was the reason for the tardiness of his teacher.

It wasn't for long -only a measly five minutes -but for someone striving for perfection in all his moves…

‘Did something happen?’

Kirei knew that Tokiomi was steading himself to face the possible wrath of the King of Heroes, but even then, he should be done by this point. He was considering sending one of the Hassans to verify the reason for his lateness when the gramophone turned on.

“Sir, you are late. Did Archer have many complaints about you?”

The man coughed a bit and replied:

“Nay. I suppose that the King of Heroes has forgiven my transgression…at least this time,” he said. “But I did engage in some interesting debate with Assassin of Ohara. You can blame that and my enthusiasm for the delay.”

The disciple nodded. He noted that the voice of Tokiomi seemed weirdly tired, but the man of faith attributed that to the tension he felt since the beginning of the war.

“I see. It would be better for us to avoid enraging Archer from now onwards, though.”

“There's no need to repeat that,” said Tokiomi. “It goes unsaid. Did the Hassans find anything interesting?”

“Many things that we already confirmed,” said Kirei. “The Einzbern homunculus is going to their stronghold in the forest. El-Melloi hides in the Hyatt. But others managed to avoid their vigilant eyes. We have no confirmation on where are Waver Velvet or Kariya Matou are.”

He paused.

“But you seem to omit a figure,” commented Tokiomi. “Do you know where the Master of Berserker of Inaba is?”

“...not from the man himself. He's surprisingly cunning for his class. However, Assassin has the track of his partner.”

“Caster.”

Kirei nodded. 

“He and the Berserker of Inaba faced off against Saber and the other Lancer. Assassin managed to trail off a perimeter where he could be. But we have bigger worries.”

He paused.

“Assassin also managed to track them because of their kidnappings. Their main targets are children, but some adults disappeared as well. My father is covering the signals of magecraft in the crime scenes, but at least five families of four to six people disappeared.”

The priest could feel the weight in the words of his mentor.

“Who? Who is doing that?”

Kirei collected himself.

“Besides the confession of Berserker of Inaba, Assassin eavesdropped that the Master of the two was a serial killer, suspected of having killed many people in the last weeks. His name is Ryuunosuke. And Hassan also heard Caster being called Bluebeard by this Ryuunosuke, and, in the showdown with the Einzbern team, Caster called Saber Jeanne.”

“Bluebeard and Jeanne…tsk!” said Tokiomi. “Gilles de Rais. The disgraced marshall. To think that the Grail would call such rotten spirits. Not only that, but they target the common folk. Unforgivable.”

“There is more,” said Kirei. “Even after repeated attempts at convincing him otherwise, even from part of his partner, Caster is convinced that Saber's identity is that of the Maid of Orléans. He's disturbed.”

“Hm, it's not too surprising considering what kind of person he became after the Hundred Year War, but still…to think that the Grail could summon such a rotten person.”

Kirei went silent for a few seconds. In the meantime, the figure of Father Risei approached his son.

“I managed to cover the crime scenes,” said the Overseer. “However, I fear I won't be able to do that for much time. We need to hunt down Caster, or else the secrecy of this conflict will be put in check.”

“I agree with you, old friend,” replied the alliance leader. “It's my sworn duty as Second Owner to protect the secrets of magecraft. We can't let this stand.”

“Thankfully, we have the resources for a manhunt,” said Kirei. “While Gilgamesh won't collaborate and Hassan can't make a visible move, Bradley and Robin should be able to match them in numbers.”

“Hm…”

Father and son turned their attention to the Servant of the Shadows, humming.

“You seem to have an idea, Robin,” said Tokiomi. “What is it?”

“It came to my mind that we could solve two issues in one move. Mister Risei, am I correct that you can give Command Seals?”

“!”

The head priest touched his arm. There, the Command Seals of the fallen Masters from the last wars stood there, an intricate red tattoo passed over to him when he accepted the duty of Overseer.

“Do not be shocked, Risei,” said Tokiomi. “Assassin has been doing research. Answer her question.”

The man with silver hair coughed.

“Yes, you are indeed correct. I can pass the Seals as I see fit…Hm, I think I can see your line of thought.”

Kirei turned to his father.

“What is it?”

“As Overseer, I possess the right to alter the rules of the War in an emergency. And Tokiomi lacks one seal after tonight's battle. By offering one of the Command Seals as a prize, we can suppress his threat quickly while recovering our strength.”

“It's a risky maneuver, however,” said Tokiomi. “It relies on us snagging the prize out of a pack of bloodhounds. I know for a fact that El-Melloi will attempt to go hard after the flop in the docks.”

“It is,” said Risei. “But the result is favorable all the same. We curb a team out of the conflict and protect the secrecy. We only need to be cunning enough to eat the cake we bake. I will announce my decision by the morning.”

“We do have one more issue,” said Kirei. “Someone has been watching the church.”

“Assassin saw it?” asked Tokiomi.

“I did it,” said the priest. “With some good positioning, I managed to ambush the familiar. It was a bat with a camera.”

Tokiomi hissed.

“Of all the people…”

While the head of the Tohsaka didn't have the same hatred that El-Melloi had for the famed mercenary, he still didn't want anything to do with the Magus Killer.

“Kirei, be careful. Information is power,” said his mentor. “Going out like this is asking for an unveiling of our ploy. We can't afford to put down all the scouts that come close to there.”

“I saw it as a minor matter, sir,” said Kirei. “Nothing to trouble my Servants.”

“Still, caution is everything,” said his mentor. “You are a prodigy Executor and a good student. But arrogance is what comes before the fall. Have a good night.”

“Bye-bye, priests!”

With those words, the gramophone shut down.

“It's already late,” said Risei. “I will prepare the message for the other Masters. Go, and sleep tight, son. Tough days wait for us.”

The man nodded, retiring from the chamber. His room was on the first floor, so he only had to climb a simple ladder to reach his study. 

‘Hm…such a lack of progress.’

Kirei could still feel his Reinforced fists crushing Kiritsugu Emiya's familiar. He wasn't wounded, of course, but that moment kept appearing in his mind.

It was the closest he saw of Kiritsugu Emiya until now in this War.

Well, he had seen the desperate escape of the man in the docks. How his heart jumped at the possibility that the one man that could understand him in this world could be gone like that, blow out like a flame in a candle.

He clenched his fists. The whims of fate played with him, and he didn't like it a bit.

After all, understanding Kiritsugu Emiya, for Kirei, would be the same to understand himself, that husk filled with contradictions. 

He knew where Kiritsugu Emiya was. Tokiomi knew the location of the Einzbern castle in Fuyuki, and so did Kirei. If he managed to slide through the shadows, then…

‘Then what? Ask straight away what doubts my heart holds? Besides, Tokiomi asked for me to stay in position.”

…Still.

The track of the Magus Killer was hard to see through the eyes of common folk, but painfully obvious for anyone even half-familiar with his name in the Moonlit World. If he could only watch him for a bit…

As he opened the door, he felt one -no, two presences -inside his study. And they were the most unlikely duo he could imagine.

“Ah, good evening, Kirei Kotomine,” said Gilgamesh, dressed in a long-sleeve V-neck white shirt with leather pants and a golden necklace. His pointy hair was combed down, and there were no signs of burns from the attack of his counterpart. At the other side of the table, Saber of Amestris sat, dismissing his coat and only leaving his white shirt. Both men were drinking wine -Kirei's wine.

“Archer? Saber? What is the meaning of this?”

His Servant coughed.

“I should be asking the same thing to him. It was quite a surprise to meet Archer,” said the one-eyed man. “I decided to serve myself some of your wine, though. A good crop, I say.”

“Hm,” grumbled Archer. “Not as good as the ones in Uruk, but respectable. What you lack in size compared to your Master, you compensate in quality. A bit pretentious, don't you think?”

Kirei felt his eyebrow slightly twitch. While he didn't drink wine, his hobby was collecting high-quality vintage wines. While he didn't give it much care, it was still a bit annoying to see the King of Heroes and the Fuhrer of Amestris drinking them callously. 

Yes, them. He could count at least five other bottles in the ground.

“I repeat,” said Kirei. “What is the meaning of this?”

Bradley looked at Gilgamesh.

“I know why I am here. What I do not know is why he is here.”

Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, but you know. I am here for the same reason as you.”

The Saber of Amestris huffed.

“And what if I said I had no reason other than to see how my Master is doing?”

“I would call it bullshit and likely skewer you for lying to a king,” replied Archer nonchalantly. 

The Fuhrer let out a bloodthirsty grin, his hand approaching the eyepatch.

“I would like to see you try.”

The two lifted from their seats before slowly returning to their positions.

“Hmph. That fight against the black Berserker set alight my bloodlust,” said the homunculus. “But it's not time for that…yet.”

Gilgamesh sneezed.

“Bold of you to think we are on the same level. Alas, we are missing the point.”

Kirei blinked, realizing that he instinctively went back a step. It was not from Archer's actions but rather to see Saber of Amestris drop his facade so naturally.

‘So that's the crack in his wall of politeness.’

If either Servant noticed the question in Kirei's mind, the priest couldn't tell.

“For once, I will be straight with you, Kirei Kotomine,” started Archer. “You have caught my attention.”

The priest slightly bowed, to which the Archer shook his hand.

“Forget this for the time being. I wish to face you eye to eye. Understand?”

The Master of Assassin and Saber of Amestris nodded.

“As I said, you caught my attention, Kirei. After all, why would a Master protected by the Church hunt mere scouts? Were you bored?”

“You saw me doing that?” asked the priest.

“I did,” said King Bradley. “We had some time to talk over our days. While he's been wandering the city, I saw you hunting that bat. Pretty risky, I say. After all, the ‘puppeteer’ your father called to make your ‘prosthesis’ will only come tomorrow. Pretty irresponsible.”

He let out a laugh. Kirei shivered. It sounded so fake, and Archer seemed to agree.

“Hmph. You don't need to keep acting, fake man. I'm sure we both know who you are deep inside.”

The laugh was cut short. Bradley coughed.

“Hmph. I suppose old habits die hard. Well then, let's get straight to business. What did you mean at that time?”

“I'm…sorry?” said Kirei. “You will have to be more specific to me.”

Bradley's uncovered eye stared at Kirei.

“‘How do you do it?’ My ears are good, Master. Don't think I missed your question.”

The man touched his lips, memory jogged. Right, yesterday.

“I don't know,” said the Master. “Those words only came out naturally from my mouth. I do not understand their meaning.”

“Oh, but you do.”

The eyes of both men turned to Gilgamesh.

“You do understand what they mean, Kirei Kotomine. You only don't want to recognize their meaning.”

“Shouldn't you be occupied sniffing on Tokiomi's secrets?” grunted Kirei. Part of his mind asked what that was, but he couldn't stop himself.

The golden king let out a laugh.

“Ah. While Tokiomi showed he was a bit more than eyes can see, he's still duller than the dullest blade. His wishes and strategies are so flat that they bore me to death. I will treat him with the due respect that a summoner deserves, as he respects my kingly authority, but that's all.”

Kirei frowned.

“Those are inappropriate words for a Servant. Besides, an outsider can't understand this: to reach Akasha, the Swirl of the Root, is the goal that all magi strive upon.”

“An outsider…” grumbled Saber of Amestris. “Yes, that's right. You don't fit the mold from what I heard. Your origin is not that of a magus, but of a man of faith -for all foolish that such path is.”

His face was one of displeasure.

“Do you have a problem with the followers of God, King Bradley?” asked Kirei.

“Not with your religion, but with the concept of faith in general,” said the Servant of the Sword. “Those that follow this path are not believers, but rather users of His name as a tool. Nothing but a way to instill fear in the masses and make them obey the whims of foolish men.”

“Hm, you make an interesting point,” said Archer. “Those that follow a path of faith tend to attempt to run from their problems by guarding themselves in the umbrella of a higher being or to use that to propel themselves to the top of the food chain. That said, do not doubt the existence of gods, as they do exist. Or, well, once existed. And they are rather appreciative of true devotees. That's the one good thing I can say about most of the ones I came to know.”

“That I never denied,” said Bradley, drinking his wine. “But what do I know? The realm of the divine is not something that I truly understand. But that's beside the point. What does a man of cloth have to do with a war of magi? Do you have an interest in seeing the cup of your Messiah?”

Kirei shook his head.

“The true Holy Grail has no relation with the one of this War. I can't muster the reasoning for the similar names, but we have confirmed since the beginning of these rituals that they are unrelated.”

“I see…” said Gilgamesh. “But you are avoiding the question. What is your stake here?”

“The power of this artifact is dangerous,” said the former Executor. “In the wrong hands, it could bring havoc to the world. The wish of Tokiomi Tohsaka won't do any harm, as it leads to ‘outside’ this world, and we of the Church only have an interest in protecting the ‘inside.’ Ergo, since the Tohsaka family also had close ties to our group, supporting him was in our best interest.”

“Ah, that I can understand,” said Gilgamesh. “As I, too, can't bother with things beyond this universe's borders,” he glanced at Saber of Amestris. “Our paths can't be more opposite than that.”

Kirei let out a bitter smile. That position of his would be scandalous amongst the magi.

Saber of Amestris, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow.

“So that is what that man is: a puppet.”

“I wouldn't say it in such crude terms, but I suppose it's not incorrect to think of him like that,” acknowledged the brown-haired man. “The Grail grants any wish, regardless of consequences. The right-winged Tokiomi, a man pursuing magecraft for its sake rather than fame, fortune, or power, is thus the ideal candidate.”

“All of those things that I fondly appreciate,” said Archer. 

“I…don't care for such things,” said Saber of Amestris. “As long as I have a good fight, I will feel satisfied.”

“How uncouth for men of power, rulers of nations,” said Kirei. “Even worse for you, King of Heroes, as this is a shameful display.”

“Ah, is that so?” said the golden king. “Then pray to tell us, Kirei Kotomine. What is your wish?”

The priest blinked.

“I'm sure I already told you. To guarantee-”

“Don't disguise desire as duty,” interrupted Bradley. “One is something you want, the other is a thing you have to do. Until now, you explained the latter, something that your father could do. Now, what do you desire personally?”

Kirei crossed his arms.

“I…have no such thing.”

The two Servants observed the man.

“Preposterous,” said Bradley. “Everyone wants something they can't have. If so, why are you here in the first place?”

“I would like to know the reason,” said Kirei. “No wishes, no cravings, no ideals, nothing. Thus, why did the Grail choose me?”

“Hmmmmmm…” hummed Gilgamesh. “Perhaps you look for something basic, fundamental? Pleasure, maybe?”

This angered Kirei.

“Pleasure?! How dare you! You wish for me, a follower of God, to seek pleasure?! Are you ravening mad, King of Heroes?! I wouldn't ever commit such a sin!”

“A…sin?”

Bradley scratched his chin.

“Hm, quite an interesting position you have. I know a lot about sins, you see, and I can tell you that, inherently, pleasure is not a sin but possibly the result of one. You can find pleasure in the bed, slashing your enemies away, showing your might. But you can also find it in the simple things like good weather, a decent book, and a bottle of vintage wine,” to emphasize the last point, he flicked his cup. “Thus, your position is a confusing one, Kirei Kotomine.”

“For once, I agree with you, one-eyed warrior,” said Archer. “Why did you automatically associate those two things? What makes pleasure sinful?”

The priest opened his mouth, only to find no words to contest the argument. Both Servants glanced at each other, sharing a thought: ‘Interesting.’

“...I have no pleasures,” finally said the startled Master, defeated. “No matter how much I sought them, nothing I did satisfied me.”

Bradley raised an eyebrow as Archer let out a laugh.

“Muahaha! It seems that my interest in you only deepened, Kirei! Take a seat.”

Hesitantly, the Master obeyed.

“Now, hear me well. The teachings of a king that saw everything that there is to be are not to be ignored,” said the golden ruler. “Happiness is the essence of the human soul. Everyone seeks it in their manners, whether they be virtuous or sinful. Thus, it's a mirror of who you are deep within.”

“A…mirror?” said Kirei. “But I feel no pleasure. What does this mean?”

“It's not that you can't feel pleasure,” said Bradley. “It's that you don't know what is pleasurable to you. There's an abyss between both ideas. How long have you been looking for answers?”

Kirei blinked.

“A lifetime…”

“Ohoho, so it's a pretty severe case then,” said the King of Heroes. “So much introspection, and yet no guiding light. The answer, then, is simple. If you can't figure it out yourself, use others as an example.”

Kirei grumbled.

“In case you didn't notice, I'm not in a position where I can go out safely.”

“But you do have eyes everywhere, no?” countered Gilgamesh. “It won't be too much of a hassle to order that sneaky Assassin to understand what each Master wishes. After all, their wishes will lead them to personal happiness, no?”

“And maybe even learn about your target,” said King Bradley off-handily. 

“!”

‘I didn't tell him about Kiritsugu Emiya,’ thought the Master. ‘Did he feel my distress earlier?’

The Fuhrer didn't elaborate, content in letting Gilgamesh finish his speech.

“So, what do you choose? More years of ignorance or a chance to understand your true self? Think wisely.”

Kirei lifted from his seat.

“Why do this?” he asked. “What will both of you gain with this?”

“Ah, it's not as deep as you may think it is, Kirei,” said Archer. “I only would like to be entertained by the Masters of this war. After all, besides Tokiomi, one or two should be interesting to see.”

“...if you look for something like worry for your wellbeing, forget it,” said Bradley. “I came here to understand the meaning of your words, and I suppose I did get some. But I give you one piece of advice, Master: once you make a choice, never look back.”

Kirei's face was one of confusion.

“Even if it turns out to be a fool's errand?”

“Even then,” confirmed Bradley. “The biggest treasure that a human has is the power to choose how to live. Any choice you make, stand by it. If it's to let another one set how things shall go for you, make any moment of independent thought more valuable than your own life. Do you understand?”

Hesitantly, the priest nodded.

“I think so,” taking a deep breath, the priest said. “Well then. I will ask for Hundred Faces to do as said, but I won't have anything for a time.”

“Not an issue,” said Archer. “There is much to do in this modern world and a bunch of wine to drink. I will appear once everything is ready…" he paused. "And I suppose you can show your face too, Saber of other lands. Your insight can prove to be useful.”

The king disappeared in golden particles before he could hear Bradley's snort.

“Hmph. With that snark, Mustang and you would be either best friends or bitter enemies,” said the Fuhrer, disappearing in blue particles.

Seeing both men disappear, Kirei sat down in his chair, exhausted.

“My wish…” he said. “It can't be a pleasure. Those two got it completely wrong. It can't be that.”

Kirei looked at his hands. They were trembling. 

“I don't need the Grail to achieve my wish. All I need is to understand Kiritsugu Emiya.”

Still…

The priest couldn't help but think he did a deal with the devil that night.

Unaware to him, a shadow hearing the talk slid out of there, no one none the wiser about its presence.

“And then you put the hook here, throw it at the river, and now you have a murder scenario that replicates that of a tv series!”

“Uh, mister Adachi. The hook didn't go all the way.”

The man looked at the back of the body of the old man he was using as a canvas. Yup, no hook there.

“Goddammit, give me a second, I only need some…”

PLECK!

His attempt to punch the hook to the place only resulted in a piece of the chest and the body's spine being punched from the rest.

“Ah, dammit…” grumbled Adachi, throwing the body away. “Alright, new lesson, kid. Being fancy sucks. Grab a knife, make some flesh doodles, and be happy.”

Ryuunosuke touched the dead body.

“I think what you were doing was impossible, anyway,” said the serial killer. “Very cool, but impractical.”

“Yeah, yeah, you got a point…damn, being a senpai is harder than it seems.”

Adachi now felt a bit of solidarity for Dojima. It was hard to teach the strings of the work to someone else.

“Can I kill someone else now? That little girl over there will bleed out soon.”

He glanced at said girl, weakly groaning at the blood loss from all the drawings Uryuu carved on her arm. Looking at her pants, she-

“Oh, jeez. That's not the way to go, man. Put the damn girl out of her misery.”

As the Berserker of Inaba turned his head away from the body, he reflected on how many children were already dead there. The girl was the last one remaining alive, and…wait, was the man he just punched a hole through her grandfather or something? Like, the house they find her and some three other girls had all those chains and whips and-

“Oh, a child rapist,” said Adachi. “Good deed of the day, I guess.”

Well, it would be a good deed if they had the intention behind it…and let the girls go, which they didn't do. But it was the thought that counted?

…

Yeah, it didn't work. Adachi wasn't all about killing children.

‘Well, that's what threw me here in the first place.’

He remembered his last moments. Life in prison was not too bad. Adachi was a model prisoner, and while there was the occasional crook that wished to kill a cop, they would soon learn that Tohru Adachi was not a softie.

Still, even after taking all of those steps toward redemption, the guilt ate away at his conscience. Even if he had confessed to his crimes, and he had to factor in that an evil god of fog or something was fucking with him, it was still him throwing people at the world of Midnight Channel. But Adachi could tolerate that -yeah, he was that twisted.

What he couldn't, however, is forgetting that he had killed Nanako Dojima for real.

Sure, she somehow came back to life -the Berserker still didn't know how that happened -but it happened. And then…

His partner, Nanako's father, chose not to give in to anger but instead to raise his hand to him, a scumbag partner.

And Narukami, her cousin, decided to save him from his darkness rather than thrust him back.

The remorse ate him every day behind bars, and that did things to someone's head.

So Adachi decided to solve it all in a fell swoop. He answered everything about his methods, guaranteeing no stone was left unturned. Then, one day, after some smuggling, he ended it all.

BANG!

The Berserker of Inaba jumped a bit, looking back to his protegee.

“Sorry! Cut the rope accidentally!”

Adachi shook his head. ‘At least it helped me get out of my funk. No sense in staying with that on my head, even because my wish will change things so that will never happen. Hopefully.’

The Servant turned to his companion, patiently watching things from a crystal ball. He approached him and touched his shoulder.

“Hey, can you read the numbers of the lottery there? We need a fund for knives and the like.”

Gilles didn't answer, instead focusing on the image. It was that fancy Hotel Hyatt, the pride of the Shinto part of the city.

“We won't be taking reserves there, dude,” said Adachi. “We are killers.”

“He's there.”

“Hm?”

The sorcerer called Bluebeard smiled.

“I can feel him. Lancer is up there, hidden by a Bounded Field.”

He rubbed his hands.

“The War for the Salvation of Jeanne D'Arc will begin next night.”