Fanfic Contest 2018 Entries

[Milbunk]

Here is a list of entries for the 2018 contest.

Alter
Future's End
Heavy is the Crown
The Modern Heroic Spirit
The Sorrow of Kings

[Milbunk]

Alter


For a moment, she was lost within the memory of pain. Burning, stabbing, biting, slashing, from every direction and with all her senses there was nothing but agony.

But it was only a memory.

Blinking several times, her vision came back into focus. As if the experience hadn't even been as real as a dream, there was no lingering sensation from the intense pain she had been subjected to. And while it had been enough to make her momentarily forget where she was or what she was doing, even the memory of the pain was quickly fading from her mind.

As her vision returned, she calmly surveyed the scenery around her. Though recollection was slow in coming, she had certainly been in the Ryuudoji Temple just moments before. Now, however, she was most certainly not in the temple. Instead, stretching out in front of her was a sea of grass, a wash of faded greens and yellows as if the ground was trying to mirror the steel-grey sky.

Even with its washed out colours, there was no place burned more vividly in her memory than this. Even if she didn't recognize the sea of grass, the nearby fairgrounds and stables, or even if she didn't turn to see her father's castle looming in the distance behind her, she would recognize this place in an instant. No single place, no single moment could have been clearer in her memory, and as she rested her eyes once again on that stone pedestal and the sword it held, that memory came rushing back to her.

As much as she recognized this place, it didn't make sense that she was here. Her last memory was of fighting that skull-faced Assassin in the halls of the temple, so why was she suddenly here, thousands of miles - and years - away?

It was possible this was a dream, she supposed, though she didn't have the faintest idea why she would have been sleeping. Unless...

"I'm afraid not," a voice called to her from a distance. Her voice called out from the opposite side of the sword planted in front of her. "A dream, that is. That's what you're thinking, right?"

More than the newcomer's correct assumption about her thoughts, she was startled by their appearance. By all accounts, she was looking at a mirror image of herself - almost. It was a version of herself that was much younger. Though their physical appearance seemed almost identical, her plain commoner's clothes gave her away. This was an image of her from her time before she had even become a knight.

From before she had pulled Caliburn from the stone.

"Welcome, Artoria Pendragon. Or I suppose you've probably been going by Servant Saber recently, haven't you?"

Saber frowned. "Who are you?" Despite their uncanny similarity - no doubt some sort of magecraft was involved with that - there was something about this...girl that seemed different. Something unsettling.

The girl responded to Saber's frown with a raised eyebrow. Stepping between Saber and Caliburn, she folded her arms in front of her and leaned back on the sword. "You don't know? Really?"

"If you think I would be deceived into thinking you are my past self," Saber replied flatly as she stepped up towards where the girl was standing, "then I am afraid you have underestimated me."

The girl grinned. "Oh, don't worry, I know you're not that stupid."

Saber frowned again. If this imposter's words could be believed - which she wasn't sure they could - then perhaps the gap in her memory was responsible for her inability to identify them. Throwing her thoughts back to the last thing she remembered, standing in the temple, she attempted to piece together what had happened before she appeared here.

Certainly, she had been in the Ryuudoji temple. Having encountered an enemy Servant, she had split off from her Master...Assassin. That was why she had left Shirou's side. As confident as she was in her ability to fight him, it might have been beyond her abilities to protect Shirou while she did so.

For a moment, Saber's eyes went wide with realization, before she dropped her gaze in dismay.

"You are...the Holy Grail?"

The young girl in front of her raised her eyebrows as if impressed, despite her condescending words earlier. "You certainly figured that out quick. Though I can't say I'm disappointed. It will make this conversation a lot easier, that's for sure."

Just before arriving here, Saber had been fighting Assassin in the temple. She had successfully repelled his attacks, but before she could land a fatal blow of her own, she had been caught by that mysterious shadow. After that, after sinking into that darkness, she could only remember pain. And then she was here.

In short, she had lost.

"Yes, I'm afraid it's true," her twin spoke with an air of mocking sympathy. "You lost. Assassin proved too much for you, and now your Grail War has come to an end. Rest in peace, and all that."

Saber closed her eyes, trying to suppress a rising wave of mixed frustration and despair. She had failed. Barely a week after she had appeared in Fuyuki city, she had already fallen, and thanks to her failure her Master was almost certainly dead as well. There was no way that he could have escaped from Assassin unaided, nevermind his Master who had likely intercepted him even before she herself had fallen.

"A true shame, is it not?" the illusion of her younger self spoke, adding a tinge of melodrama to her voice. "You failed to hold your kingdom together in life, failed to crush the rebellions that sprung up during your rule. You were given a miracle, a second chance, to redeem yourself...and you failed again, letting that man Kiritsugu destroy the Grail while it was right in front of you. And yet once more, another miracle, a third chance! Only for you to fail again, not even able to protect the life of a single boy. Truly a shame."

Saber opened her eyes again, throwing an irritated glare at the Grail's image of herself. Even if what she...what it was saying was true, she still couldnt' suppress a hot flash of anger from welling up at hearing the words spoken aloud. While a considerable amount of time must have passed between Kiritsugu's betrayal and now, for her it felt like only a week past. But while her Master had failed her in the previous war, her abject failure at protecting her Master in this one stung just as much.

"What do you want from me?" Saber said in a level voice, despite her mounting displeasure. "If I died, I should have been sent back to my own time. Why am I here instead?"

For a moment, the younger girl said nothing, the sardonic grin slowly fading from her expression. Saber thought she could see a hint of sorrow in her eyes, but with a blink it was gone, only a cold flatness staring back at her.

"Call it a whim," she eventually said with a shrug, her expression unchanging. "You are really quite an unprecedented case. Not only summoned twice, but in consecutive Wars as well. Sending you off just like any other seemed somehow...unfitting. So before you go, I wanted to ask...I wanted to make sure."

The young girl watched her as if looking for a reaction, but Saber gave her nothing. Perhaps she was in a bad mood, having just discovered she had been killed minutes earlier, but she had no desire to indulge the imposter in her games.

Seeing Saber wouldn't take the bait, the girl flashed a quick smile before making an exaggerated sigh.

"As the Holy Grail, I ask you," she spoke, a hint of iron returning to her eyes.

"What is your wish?"

Saber maintained her silence, now out of surprise more than exasperation. Here she was, standing before the Holy Grail itself, the omnipotent wish-granting vessel that had called her to fight for its favour.

And she was being asked her wish.

"Why?" Saber finally managed to squeeze out, her mouth uncharacteristically dry. Dare she hope?

"I already said, didn't I?" she replied, a mischeivous grin returning. "A whim. Mostly."

"Mostly?" She couldn't figure out why she was so hesitant to tell her wish. This was the Grail, after all. The one who could grant it. But for some reason, she felt she couldn't trust the person in front of her.

Without warning, the grassy field around her was gone, the young version of herself vanishing with it. Saber blinked in surprise, instinctively reaching for her sword but finding nothing.

A striking sense of familiarity hit her as she looked around her new environment. She was in the throne room of a castle...certainly not Camelot, but similar. Smaller. Once her eyes fell on the man sitting across from her, head propped up on one fist, elbow resting on the side of his throne, recollection came like a lightning bolt.

Uther Pendragon.

Staring down at her from his raised throne was none other than her father. A perfect image, more accurate she suspected than even her memories of him. And yet once again, there was something...off. Something in his eyes that told her she was still speaking to the same person, the same Grail that had been standing before her in the field moments prior.

"Mostly," her father's voice rang out with a nod, looking down at her in more ways than one. "As the Holy Grail, it is of course my duty to vet those who seek to make a wish. To determine who is worthy to have their wish granted. Hence, the Holy Grail War."

"Which I lost," Saber spoke with a grim expression, talking past a lump in her throat. "Twice."

The enthroned lord regarded her for a moment before speaking. "Technically, that's not true."

Once again, Saber's breath caught, snagged by the smallest spark of hope.

"You made it to the end of the last War," the Grail continued, its voice cold and imperious. "True, you stood against one final remaining Servant, but while you did, your Master claimed the Grail. Technically, you had won - I had already stood before your Master, offering him victory. Right up until he betrayed you...betrayed us."

Though the pain had long faded from her body, she could still feel somewhere deeper the scar caused by that betrayal, the wrenching of her soul as she futilely resisted the Command Spells with every fiber of her being. Without a word of explanation, without a word of warning, she had been forced her to destroy the Grail she so desperately sought with her own hands.

"Of course, you certainly did fall in this War," the man continued, "but even you must realize that Assassin did not have the skill, nor the power necessary to defeat you." A bitter regret seemed to cloud his voice as he finished. "Your untimely defeat was caused by...outside factors."

The spark of hope grew, ever so slightly, into a tiny flame. A small candle fighting back the darkness of her despair. Before Saber could open her mouth to ask anything further, the Grail continued.

"Of course, the rules can only be bent so far. Certainly I can acknowledge you the winner of the Fourth Holy Grail War, and give you your wish...but while so many Servants still live, my power is not sufficient. Even if I wanted to, I don't have the ability to do anything you would ask of me."

"And yet still you ask for my wish," Saber finally found her voice again. Quiet, but sure. The flame wavered, but was not extinguished.

"I cannot grant it out of hand," he spoke, holding her gaze, "but another chance...perhaps that is within my power." He gave a faint smile, contrasting with his ice cold eyes. "If your wish is worthy."

Saber swallowed. Another chance. As the Grail had said, Assassin would have had no means of defeating her by himself. Perhaps the only Servant that stood a chance to defeat her was that Berserker, but she was confident she could manage even that, given the proper time to prepare. If she had one more chance...that might be enough.

"My wish..." Saber spoke, her voice faltering barely above a whisper. Clearing her throat, she tried again, meeting her father's gaze straight on and speaking clearly. "My wish is to redo the selection of the king. To have a more competent ruler lead Britain, that it might avoid the ruin I led it to."

For some reason, she felt those words sting herself. Perhaps because of the illusion of her father before her, admitting her abject failure as the ruler of Britain out loud felt like embracing a piece of broken glass. However, no matter how much it hurt her pride, if her wish could be granted...

The long silence following Saber's declaration was broken by the sound of bellowing laughter. Uther leaned back in his throne, laughing heartily. Unsure of whether to be offended or dismayed, Saber could do little more than stand and watch, waiting for the fit to end.

Eventually it did, punctuated by a long sigh as he tapped a finger on the armrest of the throne. Though his eyes remained as cold as ever, the rest of his face was still alive with mirth.

"Incorrect." A single word proclamation.

"...incorrect?" Saber parroted his reply. "Are you saying my wish is not worthy of the Holy Grail?" As dismayed as she was at the response, it seemed her anger was winning out, a hot burn swelling in her chest.

"Oh, no! Not at all!" the Grail replied with mock concern. Leaning forward to place elbows on armoured knees, he spoke with what felt like the faintest trace of venom. "What I mean is, that's not your wish." Saber narrowed her eyes, keeping her mouth shut and her anger restrained.

"You wish to redo the selection of the king," he continued, standing from the throne and descending the few short steps to stand level with her. "'Someone should be able to do a better job than I did.' Something like that?" Stopping only a pace in front of her, he crossed his arms. "Who?"

Saber blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. "It is of no consequence. As long as they can protect Britain...protect the people better than I did-" "Yes, yes, but who?" Impatience marred Uther's voice as he turned around and walked back to the throne. "Who could do a better job than you did?" Standing in front of the throne, he turned again to look at Saber. "Perhaps you don't know...you can't see what I see, hear what I hear. But I think you do. I think you understand, somewhere in your heart, that what you wish for is impossible."

"Impossible? Even for the Holy Grail?" How could something be impossible for an omnipotent wish-granter?

"Yes, even for the Holy Grail." Raising a gauntleted hand to rub his forehead, he paused in thought. "For example..."

Once again, Saber was outside. No longer in her father's castle, nor in the field from which she first drew Caliburn, this time the scenery triggered instant recollection. Stretching to the horizon in every direction was quiet carnage - the bodies of fallen knights, now still as stone, still-warm bodies still running with blood.

Camlann.

The only contest for the soft wind whistling over broken armour was an all-too familiar voice.

"Would you then surrender the throne to me?" Turning to face the source of the voice, she was less than surprised to see Mordred, Clarent in hand, looking back at her with an expression of arrogant self-assurance that fit her far too well.

"A meaningless question," Saber answered, not quite keeping the hostility out of her voice. "If I did not pull Caliburn from the stone and become king, Mordred would never have been born. My wish would preclude her ever ascending the throne."

"Maybe so," the Grail replied with a smirk, plunging the point of her sword into the ground, seemingly oblivious to the bodies at her feet. "But tell me, King of Knights. How many Mordreds are out there? How many competent fighters, just waiting to take the reins of leadership, just so they could prove their mettle before the whole world?"

Saber made a bitter expression. Certainly, she was aware. Mordred was by no means unique. While her prowess was certainly enough to challenge any foe, her thirst for combat, her love for battle was unfit for kingship. And that same love for battle was all too common among the knights of her time.

"You understand," Mordred said, stepping towards her while leaving Clarent in the ground. "How many hundreds, how many thousands of knights are out there, vying for power? Seeking for a chance to carve their name in history with an ocean of blood, mistaking a knight's duty for a conqueror's glory?"

Raising her hands, motioning to the massacre that surrounded them, the coldness that still haunted her eyes seeped into her voice. "This is what they would create with your kingdom! And not one final, bloody conclusion. This would be the norm. Countless Camlanns, countless dead."

"Do you think my reign was without its bloodshed?" Saber replied, the weakness of her rebuttal showing in the slight faltering of her voice.

"Oh I am well aware," Mordred replied with a smirk, this time remaining constant in place while the scenery shifted around them again. In the blink of an eye, they were somewhere else. A river, choked with bodies. Then a forest, the trees no less wounded than the soldiers lying beneath them. A fort, a crimson moat forming before its gates.

The River Glein. The River Bassas. The Forest of Caledonia. Fort Guinnion. Caereon, Tribruit, Agned, Badon.

Each a stark memory, burned into her heart and mind. Each a battle she had fought, and always overcome. Each a bloody massacre, not always started, but always finished by her own hands.

"But tell me, Servant Saber," the Grail continued as the scenery shifted back to Camlann. "Would you have these battles take place for sport? For the entertainment? To prove your might as a commander? To win glory for your house?"

As Saber struggled to find words to rebut Mordred's accusations, the scenery shifted once more, this time leaving Mordred behind. Once again, she was indoors, in a place that felt almost like home - the heart of Camelot, the Round Table itself standing before her.

"But of course, it would be dishonest of me to say everyone was like that," another voice called out from beyond the Table. "True, not every knight was as bloodthirsty as Mordred. Even if a minority, there is a sizable number who would attempt to follow the same path as you."

"Like Sir Agravain." Watching as the speaker made his away around the table to stand by her, Saber spoke quietly, a sense of dread rising at the inevitable rebuttal that was to come.

"Like Sir Agravain," he replied, an uncharacteristic smile gracing his hard features. "Perhaps the most competent of your Knights when it came to leadership. Despite his treacherous background, one of the most loyal. A powerful, if somewhat hard leader, skilled both in the sword and politics needed to be king."

Saber swallowed as she dropped her gaze, unable to meet Agravain's cold eyes. "...but?"

"But," he continued at her prompting, "who would he rule? What charisma does he possess to gather followers? The Round Table remained united for so long because of their hatred of him. How could he gather those same people together to rule them?"

Though she still couldn't raise her eyes to meet his, she could feel his hard glare on her as he spoke. "The unity of Camelot may have been...tenuous, during your time. True, it fell divided against itself. But consider the years it spent united under you. Who among your knights could have kept them together at all, let alone longer than you did? Who among them could inspire such fierce loyalty as you did?"

Saber continued to hold her silence. Camelot's fall certainly may have been caused by Mordred's betrayal, but Saber couldn't help but blame herself for it. If only she had been able to stamp out the sparks of rebellion before they had burst into flames...

That was why she sought a chance to redo the selection of the king. Someone, she reasoned, must have been able to do a better job. What good was her success in battle if she would inevitably battle her own? Surely, someone out there must have been able to reach a better conclusion than she had...

"...but in the end, that's all irrelevant anyways." As if to punctuate the last breath of her wish, Agravain spoke again. "Sifting through the candidates avails us nothing, because if it were not you, there is only one man who could have become king."

Saber finally looked up, but Agravain was no longer standing before her. Nor was the Round Table, or the walls of Camelot. Once again, the scenery had shifted, and she was now standing in another place - another place burned vividly into her memory.

Instinctively Saber reached again for a weapon that she knew wasn't there, stepping back from the gigantic form that was now before her.

An enormous dragon, hide as black as night, dominated the room. The dim light seemed to be swallowed by its falsely glittering scales, its gigantic head swinging low to regard her with the same cold eyes as every ghost before it.

...no, cold wasn't the right description. She of course knew this beast, this man. The aura of cold, hard cruelty that he held in life was nowhere to be seen, replaced by this...something else. She had thought of it as a coldness, an icy clarity before, but contrasting with Vortigern's wicked form, she could see their nature more clearly.

It was not coldness, but emptiness. A blackness void of humanity, a nothing that overpowered even the vile presence of the black dragon.

"No matter who you might set up in your place," the dragon spoke in a deep whisper, a soft echo against the stone walls, "they will not stand against Vortigern. Who else but you could stand against such a monster?"

"If they had-"

"If they had!" the Grail interrupted, never opening its mouth yet still shouting with all the intensity of a dragon's roar. "Don't delude yourself, Servant Saber. Your blessings were for you alone. Only you could draw the Golden Sword of Victory from the stone! Only you were the bringer of promised victory! Only you were the light, still shining even now, at the end of the world! Put any other in your place, and they will be consumed by the brilliance that was meant for you."

Rising from where he had crouched on the stone floor, Vortigern stretched to his full height. Wings spread wide, he easily filled the chamber.

"And then this man will conquer. Like a plague, he will sweep across Britain, crushing the people beneath him like they were no more than insects. The kingdom will be as dust long before any foreign army reaches your shores."

Saber had no reply. She had no need for the reminder of Vortigern's power to remember that she would have had no confidence facing him without Rhongomyniad at her disposal. And she had no confidence that any other could inherit the lance, let alone the two swords that she had born.　It was exactly as the Grail had said - with no one to stand in Vortigern's way, she could hardly expect any other outcome than his complete domination of Britain.

And what hope would her people have then?

Lowering his head to be level with her, Vortigern spoke once again in a quiet whisper. "This is the fate brought about by your wish, Servant Saber. Darkness. Despair. And finally, death. The complete and final erasure of your people."

Saber stared up at the dragon in front of her, a blackened mirror of her own namesake. As if the candle of her hope had been snuffed from the bottom up, she felt a cold blackness within her, Vortigern's horrendous form a fitting avatar for the despair she felt welling up inside. Even as she recognized something dark and twisted in the eyes of the dragon, something that made her want to question the Grail's claims, she could find no fault in its words.

"That's...not my wish..." Saber's voice was barely above a whisper. "I want someone who will save Britain...save my people. Not someone who will be trampled underfoot in Vortigern's conquest."

A sound like a great sigh filled the room as the dragon settled back onto the floor, folding its wings onto its back.

"Is there nothing I can do to save my people? Nothing that the Holy Grail could do?"

For a time, the dragon watched her silently as she stood lost within the growing feeling of despair in her chest. When it made no reply, she raised her eyes again to meet the creature's gaze. His gaze was relentless but not cruel. No matter what sickness lay behind those darkened eyes, she could feel no malice from them as they measured her - judged her.

Finally, the dragon's soft whisper broached the silence. "Perhaps...there is one person."

Saber felt a growing sense of hollowness as she stared up at him, wondering if her assessment had been wrong. His words, daring her to hope, did nothing to stem the rising tide of helplessness inside her. Was he mocking her? Taunting her with false promises of hope? To what end?

"One person who could take your place, who could protect Britain from foes within and without. One person who could fulfill your dream."

Seeing the Grail was making no move to continue, to specify, Saber closed her eyes with a sigh. Would his game not end until she played her part? Fine. If it would end her torture even a second earlier...

"...who?"

"Why, you, of course."

Saber's eyes immediately snapped open, not at the words but at the voice who spoke them. Once again they had moved, no longer within Vortigern's keep, but back at Camelot. Standing on the castle walls, overlooking the fields beyond the castle, the strong winds bringing the faint scent of a distant battle not yet started. Above her, the clouds were thick and dark, promising rain in any moment.

And standing beside her was a knight clad in silver.

"You united the knights of Britain under your banner, and forged the Round Table. Why not again? You overcame the threat of Vortigern once. Why not again? You resisted the Saxons, the Picts, and the Scots until Camelot fell under its own weight. Why not again?"

Saber met the Grail's eyes, standing now in the form of another of her loyal knights. Though Bedivere's expression was as ever, a look of unwavering loyalty, unfailing faith in his king, it did little to dim the shadows that plagued the Grail's eyes.

"I united the Knights of the Round," Saber spoke up, her despair lending a bit more strength to her voice than her crumbling hope could manage, "but I also failed to keep them united. What difference would it make if I went back and tried again?"

Bedivere broke his gaze away, turning to search the horizon. "Perhaps you can't see it from where you stand," he said, his voice barely more than a murmur. "But I can. I can see you, your past...the past of many heroes. A history of humanity more ancient than you can imagine."

Turning back to return her gaze straight on, Bedivere's voice was clear and strong. "And I can say this with certainty. You were not wrong."

Saber stared back as if frozen, the wave of cold washing over her almost enough to make her shiver.

"To be more precise, your methods weren't wrong. Of course you made mistakes, but such is the case for all rulers - all humans. But your mistake was not one of kind. It was one of magnitude."

"...I don't understand," Saber whispered, eyes dropping once again, trying to deny the truth now forming before her. Trying to deny the cold collecting in her chest.

"I think you do," Bedivere spoke with a knowing smile. "From the very beginning, from the time you pulled Caliburn from the stone, you understood what it meant to be king. You understood that being a leader meant sacrifice, and you met that expectation with unmatched fervour. You gave all of yourself - you sacrificed your own heart and soul, your own body, your entire life at the altar of Britain. You held nothing back, and thus had nothing left for yourself. But it wasn't enough."

Whatever space there had been in her heart for hope was now gone. Realization of the truth had crushed it, replaced it with something different, something colder. Something more certain. Even now as she raised her voice to argue, she knew - perhaps not consciously, but nevertheless - that her words were lies.

"Not enough?" Saber said, straining to keep her voice from quivering. Despite the coldness she felt, it did nothing to soothe the anger welling up at the Grail's accusation. "You say I sacrificed everything, but that wasn't enough? My entire life was consumed by the needs of the kingdom. Even after its death, I am still here fighting to win back what was lost, over a thousand years later! What more could you ask of me?!"

"Correct," the Grail replied, a twisted grin marring Bedivere's face. "Sacrifice was the correct choice. If you wanted Britain to flourish, to survive, it required sacrifice of the greatest order. But you failed, because your sacrifice was too small - you sacrificed only yourself."

No, that wasn't quite right. Her words weren't lies. Though they may have been uttered in denial of the truth, they were each an indispensable tool, each a step forward towards it.

"It was very noble of you, but foolish. How could you think that a single person's sacrifice would be sufficient to sustain the entire kingdom? No matter how much of a hero you were, no matter how blessed you were with supernatural gifts, by trying to carry everything yourself, you had doomed your kingdom to failure from the start."

Even as the truth of those words stung her, Saber's unfettered anger demanded she respond anyways. "I was not the only one who sacrificed. I gave everything I had for Britain, everything! And many others did, both before and along with me! Hundreds of knights sacrificed everything in my name, wagered their lives on our success. To say I carried Britain alone is a grave insult to each of them, one I will not let stand!"

For a moment, Bedivere was speechless. His look of surprise at Saber's hot rebuttal soon turned to one of contempt. "Yes, many knights sacrificed everything for your cause, and many more offered besides. But you did not accept. Anything you could fit on your shoulders you guarded jealously. You bore every burden you could get your hands on, blind to the fact the only reason you could hold it all up was because of the sacrifices of those under you. Made all the more clear as, despite your manifold blessings, you and your kingdom around you collapsed the moment those under you stopped supporting you."

"But what else could I have done?" Saber's voice at last faltered as the coldness reached out and took hold of her anger. Though her despair at having the truth of her dream laid bare had frozen solid, an icy core within her heart, she had wrapped it in anger as if to hide it. Now that anger too was freezing, turning solid - turning permanent.

"Should it not be obvious?"

The scenery shifted again, but this time not to a place of distant memory - but a very recent one. Within the gardens of the Einzbern castle, just outside Fuyuki. Across from her sat the King of Conquerors, almost a match for her height despite sitting cross legged on the ground while she stood.

"Rider told you as much in the Fourth War, did he not? Of course, you refused to listen then." Taking a drink from the goblet in his hand, he gave a loud, satisfied sigh before continuing. "You brought your kingdom to ruin because you tried to rule like a hero. You tried to carry the burden by yourself, hold everything up alone, and thus a hero's end was the only possible ending - and what is a hero's ending but overwhelmingly tragic?"

Saber's gaze turned hard as memories of that meeting came back to her. "'The king serving the people is backwards. It is the people that should serve the king.' Are you trying to tell me I was not greedy enough?"

"No Saber, not greed. Wisdom. As I said, no one person can hope to carry the burdens of a nation. That is why the hero's tale is a tragic one. Instead, you must rule like a king - guide your kingdom as it carries its own burden. Sacrifice of your own will be necessary, but even more so is the sacrifice of those below you. Their role is to bear the weight of your demands, not the other way around, for your demands are the ones that shall lead them to prosperity. Embolden the strong, cull the weak. Reward the loyal, crush the dissident. You need not seek your own interests first, but you must lead as a ruler - not a hero."

For a moment, Saber looked out over the garden around her. To lead as a ruler, to put the well-being of the country above not only her own, but above the well-being of the individual people that made it up...

"The cost would be...extreme," Saber spoke softly, her expression bitter. "Many lives would have been lost if the people were forced to shoulder that burden...that is why I tried to carry it alone. So that they did not have to."

"And yet look at the reward for your 'selflessness.' Your kingdom in ruins, destroyed by internal conflict. A powerful exterior brought low by a rotten, crumbling interior, all because you could not bear the consequences of letting the people fight for their own future. Because you couldn't let the people bear their own burden."

A new feeling began to grow, slowly but surely encompassing the frozen core already there. As it did, the scenery shifted again, to a place Saber didn't recognize. A wide underground hall, tiled floor below her feet and countless fluorescent lights above her head. Otherwise, the space was featureless, a blank, boring emptiness in all directions.

"That was your previous Master's weakness," the Grail spoke with a new voice. A voice that caused her frozen anger to flare up, to come within a hair's breadth of breaking from its cage. But the ice held fast, indeed grew colder and more solid for it as she turned to face Kiritsugu.

"He could not bear the logical outcome of his wish," he continued. "The wish to sacrifice the few to save the many...of course, there was no other way it could end, but still he shied away from that truth. Betrayed us both once he realized the magnitude of his desire."

Saber looked down at Kiritsugu, not bothering to restrain the ice cold rage in her expression. "Sacrifice the few to save the many...that's not correct. That is not what I wish for...not what I wished for when I was alive."

Kiritsugu stopped, an unreadable expression on his face. Silently waiting, watching. Judging.

Despite being inside, the faint sound of rain began to reach Saber's ears.

"My goal is not to save the many, but the few. To save the people, the nation of Britain, no matter what the cost. Even if that means sacrificing everything else. Even the world."

At that, Kiritsugu laughed. A sound wholly unfitting from his figure, certainly one Saber had never heard from him in their short time together.

"It seems you've made a decision, of sorts." Normally, Saber would have been wary of the smile Kiritsugu now showed her, so evidently pleased in her anger, in the harshness of her words. But as if her instincts, her caution were trapped within the frozen core in her chest, she couldn't bring herself to care.

"No," Saber replied flatly. His evaluation of her was wrong. She hadn't reached a decision. "I have only learned something new. Learned where I went wrong, and what I must do to fix it."

The scenery shifted one last time.

Once again, Saber was standing in that grassy field by the fairgrounds, a castle in the distance behind her, the stone which held Caliburn ten paces ahead of her. It was now raining, raindrops black as ink soaking into the yet-dry ground.

Saber glanced up at the sky briefly. It was unnatural, that was certain. Never before had she seen such ominous rain, so it definitely didn't come from her memories. Yet as it ran down her face and soaked into her clothes, it felt like any other rain. Looking down at herself, she watched the blackened rivulets run off, the traces they left behind creating the illusion that they were staining her armor as they did.

Yet no matter how unnatural it was, she found it difficult to care.

"Then, in my capacity as the Holy Grail, I ask you..." Dragging her attention from the rain was another new voice, strangely fitting for the ominous weather. Standing behind the stone pedestal was Merlin, his heavy white robes seemingly impervious to the black rain.

"Servant Saber...what is your wish?"

Stepping closer, she approached the stone pedestal, meeting Merlin's eyes without hesitation. "I have no wish." Merlin raised an eyebrow, but made no comment as she continued. "I have no wish for the Grail...only a promise."

Stopping a few paces from the pedestal, she ignored the sword resting on it and faced the Magician. "I will save Britain. I will save my people, and I will do it with my own hands."

The last layer settled, the chill running through it turning it to ice. A frigid determination now cloaked the core of rage and despair in her heart, determination enough to smother whatever small fragment of humanity might remain to threaten her.

"I will save them, and if it takes the Grail to do so, I will use it. And if the Grail fails me too, then I will simply find another way."

"Even if it means an ocean of blood?"

"That would be no different from what I did before."

"...even if that blood is the blood of the people you are sworn to protect?"

At that, she faltered for a moment. But only a moment. "I will crush any who threaten my people and my nation. Even if that threat comes from within."

"Well then, I have good news for you, Servant Saber." Merlin spoke, the mischeivous grin on his face so natural she forgot for a moment this wasn't the true Magician before her. "A new master calls for you. Your second chance is here, if you are willing to take it. All you must do..." his voice trailed off as he motioned to the sword in front of him.

Saber had been pointedly ignoring the blade up until now, but at his instruction, she turned her attention to the stone pedestal only a few paces away. Though this was the rightful resting place of Caliburn, it was obvious that this was something else. And though its form was completely different, almost the exact opposite...or perhaps because it was so thoroughly opposite, she could tell at a glance that it was Excalibur.

No trace of the sword's holy aura remained. Its clean white blade and golden shine were gone, replaced with a suffocating darkness. The sword seemed to glow with barely restrained energy, the red detail of the weapon being the only light able to overcome the black surrounding it. The black rain running off the sword reflected its crimson light, lending it the colour of blood as it streamed down the stone pedestal into the dirt below.

Somewhere on the fringes of her awareness, the question of what could possibly have coloured the holy sword so dark fluttered briefly before it disappeared, as if washed away by the rain. Her cause for hesitation removed, she approached the pedestal and reached out, taking the sword by the hilt.

"Are you sure?"

Merlin's voice caused her to stop before she pulled the sword from the pedestal. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn't just a memory, but the Merlin before her was speaking as well.

"Pulling out that sword will be the end of you. There will be no joy, no happiness. Just hardship and suffering. Hatred and anger will be your only companions. Can you bear that weight on your shoulders?"

Somewhere deep inside, beneath that core of ice, a memory glimmered. A similar question, from the same man, when she had first pulled the sword from the stone all that time ago.

"You have fulfilled your duty as king admirably. You bore the burden of king greater than any other, accepted a destiny heavier than any man could bear while you were but a child. No one can blame you for your end, and even if they did, it is an event more than a millenium past, swallowed up and all but forgotten by history."

Saber didn't remove her eyes from the sword. Something felt different. The words Merlin were speaking felt somehow more real, yet somehow less. The words resonated with her, as if one last fragment of light inside her was struggling to be heard.

"Servant Saber. Artoria Pendragon. This is your last chance. Lay down your burden here and rest."

For a long moment, Saber remained motionless. Hand still holding the hilt of the blade, she stared at the sword.

Her last chance. To lay down her burden and rest. To accept the end of her journey, and finally be free of her responsibility to her people.

Somewhere deep inside, beneath layers and layers of ice, something inside her screamed. Begging her to let go of that sword, to disappear into the darkness without another word.

The sword in her hand trembled. Whether with anticipation or fear at what was to come, she did not know.

The black rain continued to pour down, soaking through her clothes and armor and drenching her skin and hair. As if the world itself were mourning.

...mourning what?

Long ago, when she was but a child, a similar question had been asked. A similar dilemma had faced her, posed by this same man. 'You will not be human once you take hold of that sword. You will be resented by all humanity and die a miserable death.'

What had been her answer? What conclusion had she come to, fingers on that golden sword, having seen the future that lay before her?

Many people were smiling. I don't think it will be a mistake.

Though her eyes had never moved from it, Saber looked again at the night-black sword in front of her. What future awaited her, if she took up her burden once again? What lay at the end of that path, so assuredly drenched with the blood of both friend and foe?

Was there hope at the end of her path this time as well?

The blade had no answer for her silent queries. All she could see was an all-consuming darkness, marred with traces of crimson. No matter how sure, how determined she was, she had no guarantees things would improve.

But none of that mattered.

"I have already sworn my oath to protect Britain and its people," Saber spoke, her voice strong and clear. "As long as my hands can still hold a sword, my oath remains eternal."

Saber stomped down with an iron heel, crushing the last shred of weakness in her heart telling her to give up.

The sword in her hand stilled. Resigned? Satisfied? She no longer cared.

The black rain ran down the length of her body, carrying her doubts into the dirt below.

"Then rise, Servant Saber." She barely heard Merlin's voice over the sound of the rain, over her own focus. The faint trace of emotion in it was lost on her. "Go forth and claim the Holy Grail."

Saber pulled the sword free of the pedestal, and the world around her vanished into darkness.

[Milbunk]

Prologue…
Record 00: The Girl Who Wept in the Dark


The Moonlight Room. It used to be a break room, but now…

Well… it was storage, once. Now it wasn’t anything. Just one of the few places left that those things hadn’t found. It would have been fine of course, except that the room was so far away from everything. She was only here because she had been trapped. She needed to get back to the others. It was her only chance, but… everything that would allow her to get back to the floor above was completely blocked off, whether because of a simple obstacle or because one of them was in the way.

But she knew one thing: She wasn’t going to die. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. She could still fight back, and whether she could make a difference or not, she swore she would bring hell to the stragglers left behind by the man who took everything away from her. No, the thing that took everything away from everyone.

Then again… It’s not like she could do anything anyway. Not like she had anywhere to go. She or any of the others. They were trapped here, forever. There was no escape from Chaldea. The very name made her sick. It had been a source of hope for her. Another name that she could look at to reassure herself that that person's legacy persisted. But that wasn’t true anymore. Nothing persisted. It was over, and she had lost. Now all that remained of Chaldea were broken dreams, and a door that led nowhere.

She remembered the day that shadow showed up in their midst and summoned the first wave of those horrors to rip the entire facility to pieces, killing everyone they encountered. Or worse…

For a moment she thought she heard something, but she dismissed the absurd notion. There wasn’t any noise anymore, not unless she or one of the others was the source. Something about it carried a kind of horror. The silence was infinite, eternal, and if something broke it and you couldn’t see it, your life was guaranteed to end before you blinked.

She slid to her knees, furious with herself for allowing herself to be this weak. For not toughening up even after the world literally ended because she was such a useless, pathetic, hideous, obscene failure!

But she wasn’t strong. She was useless. She was pathetic. She was hideous. And most of all, she was, without question, the greatest failure to have ever lived.

She curled over onto her side and cried into her arms, pretending just for a moment that she would move her arms away and the lights would be on. That if she looked out the window, she would see a snowstorm instead of that colourless expanse. That if she opened these doors, she wouldn’t turn the corner and see a hole that went clear through the floor. That one of her most trusted friends hadn’t been reduced to a flattened gory stain on the floor. That the man she trusted more than anyone else hadn't tried to kill her, and that the idiot who had still followed her after everything she had said to him hadn’t managed to push her away and get taken in her place.

But that wasn’t true. It wasn’t just them. Everyone was dead. Everyone was dead… and it was all her fault. So she did the only goddamn thing she seemed to be good for:

She cried.


She cried, and wished for a miracle.



And deep within the shadows, Something wondered how much this pitiful being would be prepared to pay for it.





---Future’s End---


Mashu closed the door. The Moonlight Room was empty, lost in its own corner of the facility. She had just dropped off some files that needed to be put into storage. She had never believed in the ghost stories about the room, but she couldn’t deny that it exuded an almost tangible sense of loneliness. Maybe it as because of the dim lighting outside the doors, or maybe it was just because it was so isolated. It didn’t help that the chairs that were still inside the room were so cozy. She had fallen asleep in one of them one time and all she remembered now was that she had some very unsettling dreams. Whatever the case, she was glad to be headed back to the more populated area.


Record 01: Knock Knock


Chaldea’s halls were quiet. There had been no singularities pressing enough to require intervention lately. It was why she had been sent to Mashu smiled as she strode toward the command booth where she was going to meet up with Da Vinci as she tested one of her new command modules: in this case, it was the new director of operations chair.

It was true; they had no official director who would be sitting in it, of course, but it would be useful to have. And from the way Da Vinci had been bragging, it was both so simple that an idiot could use it, and had higher functions that could be learned simply by practicing.

She opened the door to find Ritsuka and the Servant chief of staff already discussing the new equipment.

“—that it will be difficult to understand, but just in case, I also made sure to leave the final model equipped with a built-in tutorial mode,” she turned as she heard the doors slide open, “Ah, Mashu, you’re just in time.”

She hurried over to the Demi-Servant, and took her by the shoulders.

“Come along, yes,” she led her over to the chair—more of a throne, really— and gestured for her to sit down. “Have a seat. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see how long it takes for a person of average intellect to take to the controls.”

Mashu did as instructed, rolling her eyes at the unintended jab at her intelligence. She looked at the array of buttons and touchpads running along the length of the throne's arms. They were comfortably arranged at least.

“What would you like me to do?” she asked.

“Just to confirm, you’ve never been in command of the facility before?”

“No,” Mashu blushed, “of course not. I’m not nearly—“

Da Vinci waved her hand to quiet her. She turned to look at the giant viewport that gave the entire room an unobstructed view of CHALDEAS.

“Good. Now, Mashu, I want you to bring up the singularity tracking statistics on the overhead screen. I will not be telling you how to find it, mind you. I’ll need you to do this on your own.”

A shiver ran up Mashu’s spine. Wasn't this dangerous? If this chair really had control over the whole facility, pressing buttons at random would be…

Except she suddenly realized it wouldn’t be random. As her hand glided over the touchpad on the right arm, she saw several options light up on the hologram.

Rayshift Paramaters
Transchronological Communication
Access CCTV Feeds
Singularity Tracking
Security System
CHALDEAS Direct Interface

There were several other options below, but for now, Mashu just followed instructions. She played with the cursor floating in midair for a moment, watching as the options expand and shrink in size as the pointer drifted over and past them, before she noticed that there were a set of arrow keys on the left arm. She placed her fingers on them and pressed the ‘down’ key. The cursor vanished and the Rayshift option grew slightly. She tapped down three more times, leaving Singularity Tracking selected.

“This is not yet the completed model, unfortunately. I'm afraid I lied earlier. Not intentionally, I was expecting to have completed it by now, but… something odd… came up. If it presents itself, I'll take over and see if I can work through the glitch.”

Mashu nodded. She was curious for a moment, but Da Vinci's complete lack of concern dulled her interest. There was a button that looked (and felt) rather like an Enter key and she tapped it, opening up a series of other menus. Behind the screen, the sparkling blue globe continued to rotate.

“Access the Sheba Lense,” said Da Vinci. Mashu nodded and sought out its icon. She clicked.

After a few moments of code running along the screen, the words SITUATION NORMAL flowed across the great viewport, while also displaying a fairly standard no-danger report from what she had seen of it before.

“Very good,” the chief of staff said, sounding very pleased with her new invention. A bit self-gratifying, perhaps, but she was a genius. They all had quirks. “Let’s move right along. Head back and open up ‘manual control of CHALDEAS.’

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do I look like a ‘ma’am’ to you? Really?” Da Vinci rolled her eyes, but her tone was frivolous and only mock-offended. Mashu hit a key that she assumed–correctly–was the 'back' button twice, and then selected CHALDEAS Direct Interface.

The great blue mystic code stopped turning, and three cylindrical knobs rose out of slots in the arms and angled themselves in several different directions to correspond with the rings around the globe.

“Go ahead,” Da Vinci gave her permission before she had a chance to ask.

She twisted one of the knobs and the outermost ring began to spin in time with her turn.

“Whoa…” Ritsuka breathed. “Now that is cool.”

Mashu had to agree. She went to work spinning the rings around the globe before manipulating the central sphere itself. She knew it was a priceless magical artifact, but who knew CHALDEAS could be so much fun!

Then something buzzed and the entire room turned red as an emergency light began to flash. Alarms started blaring throughout the complex.

“Emergency! Extinction imminent! Immediate action required! Emergency! Extinction imminent! Immediate action required!”

“DO NOT PANIC! THIS IS THE ERROR I WAS SPEAKING OF EARLIER! WE ARE IN NO DANGER!” Da Vinci shouted as half of the employees in the room completely lost their composure. She drummed the mechanical fingers of her prosthetic impatiently against her staff, remembered what she wanted to do, and then grabbed the intercom.

“Attention all staff!” she spoke firmly and forcefully, “The system is currently in error due to a prototype machine I am attempting to implement! There is no danger at this time! For the love of all that is holy, do not lose your heads!”

Mashu, who had jumped out of the chair and started begging Da Vinci to forgive her for breaking her machine found herself ignored as the chief of staff pushed past her and sat down at the command module.

Without any hesitation, the Da Vinci jabbed ferociously at several buttons, suddenly opening up a holographic keyboard, into which she began typing feverishly. She hit ‘Enter.’

All she got was an error message. Before anyone knew what was happening, all the lights but the flashing red emergency lights went out. Alarms still roared, deafening all who could hear them to everything else.

She continued typing, writing a full line of new code every second.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!” she snarled. “Why won't you just stop?!”

Every time she tested a new workaround, she just received another error.

“What is this?! Nothing is happening!” she ground her teeth together as she started a new line of code. “The world is fine, you useless—“

The alarms suddenly stopped and the lights turned back on. The entire facility breathed a collective sigh of relief after the near-disaster that had just taken place.

Turning on the intercom again, Da Vinci took a deep breath and then made her announcement. It wasn't flattering to her, but there had to be accountability here. She couldn’t avoid taking responsibility for her impatience.

“Attention all staff. I must apologize for the… incident… that just took place. The doomsday announcement must have been incredibly frightening. I assure you, the world is fine. I’m afraid that I am solely to blame for this incident. There is no need to worry. It was just a bug in the code that I failed to catch. I apologize for both the fright and the inconvenience.”

She hung up.

“Blasted piece of—“ she seethed.

“I take it that was the ‘odd’ thing you mentioned?” asked Mashu.

Da Vinci didn't say anything but she nodded. After a few moments though, she cracked.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I don’t understand what’s causing it,” she whispered. “It makes no sense whatsoever. I’ve programmed that message to go out in case of a severe disaster. CHALDEAS is monitoring things everywhere, so why would would my new invention of all things cause it to think that humanity is about to go extinct?”

A beeping noise caught her attention and she looked up at the screen to see a single singularity flickering into existence. She zoomed in and attempted to lock onto it, but it seemed to be evading the system.

Ritsuka cleared his throat, catching Da Vinci's attention.

“Should I assemble a team for this?”

“I’ll try to resolve it with a hands-off approach first. If that doesn’t work, then… on second thought, sure. Better to be safe than sorry.”

The Master nodded and hurried off.

Da Vinci continued trying to lock onto the singularity, but it was somehow slipping through all of the programs meant to keep them connected.

“What’s wrong?” Mashu asked.

“It’s ignoring all the usual functions. None of them seem to work.”

Mashu didn't quite understand, but figured that she still had a better idea of what was going on than she did moments earlier. A few moments later, Ristuka hurried back in followed by Siegfried, Altera, Hassan of the Cursed Arm, Atalanta, and Lancelot's Berserker incarnation.

“What is the situa—”

That was as far as Siegfried got before he, and the rest of Chaldea’s present staff were met with a sight that they couldn't even make sense of.

CHALDEAS had stopped turning. That would have been normal had Da Vinci locked onto the anomaly, but for one thing: it was flickering. It was flipping back and forth between blue and orange uncontrollably.

Whispers of “What?” “Do you know what's going on?” “Why is it flickering like that?” and various other expressions of uncertainty came from everywhere in the room as the staff murmured to one another, hoping that one of their colleagues could find something to make sense of the anomaly.

Then emergency lights began flashing again. Da Vinci narrowed her eyes.

“I see,” she muttered. Without waiting for anyone to ask, she made an announcement, turning on the intercom and shouting over the blaring alarms. “All staff, listen up! For those of you not present in the command booth, I can’t be certain, but I strongly suspect that a newly discovered anomaly may be the cause of these errors I’ve been receiving and the reason for the alarms going off. I’ll require everyone’s cooperation in this task, as I feel certain that the Extinction alarm is going to go off every time I lock onto it.

“I’m afraid that you’ll all need to allow for several more of these alarms going off. Master Fujimaru will be going to assess the situation, but it is my firm expectation that every time we attempt to contact him, or rather lock on to the anomaly with CHALDEAS, we will trigger the Extinction event alert. I apologize in advance for any interruptions this might cause, but this anomaly must be dealt with. If it’s playing this much havoc with our systems, it’s unlikely to be benign, so as long as it continues doing that, it is going to be treated as a threat level singularity.

“I want all staff members at their stations. Anyone who needs to rest must have their replacement on-hand. This includes going to the restroom and sleeping. Anyone who was not on duty as of a moment ago is now on the clock, and you should all be bringing rations up from storage for your colleagues. You can eat at your stations. No consoles or control modules are to be left unattended for so much a second! No exceptions!”

She turned off the intercom and took a long, deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“Master Fujimaru,” she turned to Ritsuka, asserting as much professionalism as she could with her tone. “I’m going to need you and these servants to rayshift immediately. Mashu, you’re up as well.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the Shielder took a spot at her Master’s side.

“Before anyone says anything else, I’d like to recommend we move quickly, if no one has any objections,” Atalanta interjected.

Da Vinci looked like she had something else to say, but all she could do was nod it could wait. This was a serious situation, not to mention people wouldn’t be able to calm down while the emergency sirens were lights were still ringing.

Ritsuka gestured for the Servants to follow him and Mashu as they headed for the elevator to the rayshift chamber. They didn’t wait for the doors to open all the way before filing in and hitting the down button.

The elevator felt like it was crawling down to the bottom floor with the alarms and red lights going berserk as they were. Atalanta took a moment to massage her ears, and Ritsuka realized how insensitive the rest of the group must have seemed to her. If the sirens were agitatingly loud for them, how much worse must it be for her with her more sensitive ears? Unfortunately, he must have been staring, because she rolled her eyes and muttered “I’ll be fine, don’t make a fuss.”

“Such a strange state of affairs,” Hassan murmured to himself.

Altera made as though to reply, but realized the intention of the Assassin’s words just before she spoke up. Closing her mouth, she continued to wait as the elevator continued its long descent. She summoned the Sword of Mars, letting the tip of the blade rest at her feet. Her grip on the hilt tightened. Mashu, without actually thinking about it did the same thing with Ritsuka’s hand. He gave her a reassuring squeeze. At least, he hoped it was reassuring.

As Siegfried stood in silence, the workings of his mind a mystery to all those present, Berserker was snarling uncontrollably. It was just as impossible to tell why he was so worked up, unfortunately, as it was to determine what Siegfried was thinking. Lancelot’s Berserker form was always angry, and rarely spoke in coherent sentences.

Ritsuka looked out the window. There was still a ways to go before they would arrive at their destination. He found that he really wanted to to get off this elevator if only to escape the tension. What was it about this singularity that was making everyone so anxious? Aside from bugging out Da Vinci’s technology, it was still just another singularity. They’d handled plenty of these already. This wouldn’t be any different from the last one, or the ones that would come after, or—

“I don’t like this, Master,” Atalanta said, and Ritsuka found himself back where he’d started. “There’s something off about all of this.”

“Any idea what it might be?” Ritsuka asked hopefully.

She gave him a pensive look, but after a few moments…

“I’m sorry. I can’t tell at all. Perhaps its just a sensory overload, but I expect that’s merely wishful thinking,” she spoke calmly, but she was fiercely serious. “I’ve worked in much less accommodating environments than this. That I’m agitated now of all times does not make any sense to me.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Atalanta,” said Ritsuka.

“Everyone looks tense about something. You’re probably just empathizing,” Mashu suggested.

Atalanta smiled ruefully.

“Wishful thinking.”

“You say ‘something’ as though you don’t know what it is. Have you forgotten?” Altera asked, sounding concerned, or maybe worried for them if anything.

How far were they from the bottom? They were passing a support beam so he couldn’t see. Ritsuka could only hope that they could get off this elevator and start doing something about this problem before it’s mere concept started doing things to them.

“Any guesses on what we’ll find in there, Senpai?”

He found he didn’t want to answer. He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he opened his mouth—

“Blind speculation will serve no purpose but to further the progression of your own anxiety,” Siegfried stated calmly. “Stay focused on the task at hand.”

As though his words were the one stable rock on the proverbial sea of emotions, the tension in the elevator seemed to die down for a moment. Then the car finally came to a stop. The doors open and the anxiety was back with a vengeance. This singularity was messing with them far too much considering that they hadn’t even gotten inside.

The only thing they could really do to ease the stress was to rayshift into the anomaly as soon as they possibly could though, so Ritsuka and Mashu both hurried to their respective coffins and waited anxiously for the unsummon program to start. The Servants just watched and waited as they always did.

The first of the two familiar electronic voices began speaking, indicating that they were on their way out.

“Central bulkhead, now sealed.”

Berserker and Altera, the only Servants Risuka could see from his position, visibly tensed.

“Commencing interior cleansing in ninety seconds.

Seeking qualified Masters. Single instance confirmed.”

A few moments later, the second voice began to play over the P.A., signalling the initialization of the rayshift.

“Reestablishing contact with brZEEEEP! KZZT…SSSHHH!”

It was only the first of several signs that something was already going wrong. Ritsuka covered his ears as the electrical feedback screeched over the speakers. He couldn’t imagine what Atalanta must have been going through with her far more sensitive ears.

“Starting unsummon program,” the system continued smoothly.

“Beginning spiritron conversion.

Rayshift beginning in three… two… one.”

Ritsuka took a deep breath and…

…

Nothing happened…

“Huh?”

Before he had time to arrive at any sort of conclusion, the final message played, as though nothing had been amiss.

“All procedures clear. Abstract Order, commencing operation.”

Something glowed at the periphery of his vision and he prepared for the jump. When he didn’t see the usual flash and the ensuing vortex of spiritrons however, he started to grow concerned again. Altera’s startled expression didn’t help, nor did Berserker’s anxious snarling. Now outright worried, he pressed his face up against the window at the front of the metal cylinder to try and get a look at what was happening in the unsummon hall.

What he saw, he couldn’t make sense of. He’d never seen anything like it.

Something was spreading outward from CHALDEAS. The center of the room had taken on a bizarre appearance, like fractured glass, or a hall of mirrors at a carnival. Each shard held a spectrum of different colors, and each time the phenomenon spread, it seemed to alter the dimensions of the room, as though the shards were two-dimensional objects that were somehow enveloping the three-dimensional world. Ritsuka was growing more confused by the second.

Was this the rayshift in slow motion? Were Chaldea’s systems running slowly, maybe?

A speaker crackled to life above them, and all of a sudden Da Vinci was screaming.

“Wait! Fujimaru! Mashu! Get out of the coffins! Everyone evacuate the room! Now! NOW!”

Unfortunately it was far too late for that. The doors were sealed, and she was miserably aware of that.

The bizarre prismatic effect continued to spread around the room in small, but instantaneous and erratic bursts, until it enveloped the entire hall.

“Fujimaru!”

That was the last thing Ritsuka heard before a blinding phantasmagoria of colors consumed his vision, and he was gone.


* * * * *




Ritsuka, Mashu and their small team of Servants opened their eyes, the light from the rayshift fading away and leaving them in an empty hallway.

It was a very familiar hallway.

“Did something go wrong during the rayshift?” Mashu asked. Off to the side, some of the Servants started looking around, demonstrating what felt like undue caution. For some reason, Berserker was snarling, emitting his usual aura of black mana.

“I didn’t feel anything off about it, but…” Ritsuka trailed off.

There was no question about it: They were back in Chaldea. This was one of the residential corridors that had been used to house Servants.

The young Master spied a two-way intercom on the wall and headed over to it.

“I’m going to go ahead and contact Da Vinci,” he said, pressing the Call button as Mashu nodded her approval. The speaker beeped in response and he cleared his throat. “Hi, it’s Ritsuka. Uh, Da Vinci, I think that the rayshift might have malfunctioned? Or at least did something wrong. It’s just dumped us back into one of the hallways. Can you check the rayshift chamber before we head back there? Or do you know what happened?”

A few of the more curious Servants stopped moving around as they waited for the imminent response. Except that it never came. Almost a minute passed without anyone answering. Ritsuka looked at Mashu, who could only shrug her shoulders, unable to provide him with an answer. He pushed the intercom button again.

“Da Vinci, this is Fujimaru. Did you hear my previous message?”

Again, there was no response.

“There are no nameplates on these doors. Odd,” noted Hassan, in his usual tone—that is to say, showing a modicum of interest while not sounding particularly concerned.

Not feeling particularly interested in waiting, Atalanta strode around the nearest corner only to stop in her tracks, her ears shooting up in alarm, her gently swishing tail abruptly going stiff.

“Excuse me, Master, but I think you should look at this.”

“In a sec, let me just—”

“Da Vinci is never going to respond!” Atalanta’s voice was different. He’d never heard her speak with such dread. “And there was nothing wrong with the rayshift. I give you my personal guarantee that we are in a singularity.”

Mashu and Ritsuka looked at one another, then hurried over to the Arcadian huntress, the other Servants joining them. When they all saw what Atalanta had to show them, they could only share a stupefied look at one another.

“Yeah. S-Singularity. Or at least we’d r-really better hope it is,” stammered Ritsuka as he stared out over the blackened, dead wreckage. “I’m kind of afraid of what the alternative would be.”

For a moment, both Master and Servants had turned away.

There was a flash of silver from the opposite end of the hall. Atalanta whipped her head to look at what she thought she saw, but by the time her eyes reached the hall, it was already gone.

“Master… I don’t know what it is, but I think there’s something in here with us…”


* * * * *


Back in the control hub, all the crew members who weren’t still looking blankly at the rayshift chamber after the spectacle it had shown them were all staring at Da Vinci. It was no surprise. She looked… different. The expression was completely foreign on her features. She was horrified, standing in front of the observation window.

The expression on her face was one of stupefaction. Complete and utter confusion. She didn’t have even the first inkling how the event that just took place had occurred. The microphone lay uselessly on the floor behind her.

“Uh… Miss Da Vinci?” asked a member of the crew.

She didn’t seem to hear him.

“Miss Da Vinci!”

The chief of staff jumped. Grabbing a nearby console to steady herself.

“…Yes?” she asked.

“Is-is everything alri—”

“NO! Are you insane?! Nothing is alright! Do you have any idea what just happened?!”

“I’m sorry, I was actually going to ask, but you seem really upset.”

Da Vinci sighed, lowering her head helplessly.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve made… a monumental error. Does anyone here know what we all just saw?”

People answered in different ways, but none of them in the affirmative.

“I didn’t expect you to. But this is a disaster. If I’m not extremely lucky—and I say ‘I,’ not ‘we,’ because I take full responsibility for this mess—we may never see Master Fujimaru or Miss Kyrielight ever again.”

“Please don’t leave us in suspense,” urged the crewman, “what happened?”

“Before I can do that, you first need to understand that if any of you were to admit to having seen that, your lives will be at risk.”

The room erupted in nervous murmuring.

“I mean it! The Mages’ Association will not take this lightly. If word of this gets out, you may not be safe anywhere but here for the rest of your lives, if indeed Chaldea remains safe at all. They will have Enforcers looking for each and every one of you if even a whisper of this event leaves this facility. They will gleefully hold friends and loved ones hostage in order to place sealing designations on all the mages, and exterminate everyone else! Do you still want to know what you just saw?”

The staff continued arguing before a woman approached Da Vinci and said a few words that no one had the heart to argue with:

“The way I see it, we don’t have a choice.”

Da Vinci looked at her as though she didn’t understand what she was saying.

“You obviously know, and you might be able to do something about it, but doing it on your own, might take too long. If we don’t know what we’re up against, then we can’t help you, and if we can’t help you, then we’re effectively condemning Mr. Fujimaru and Ms. Kyrielight. To that end, I’m sure we can all just ‘forget’ that this event ever took place. Or for that matter, we could just have our memories altered, if security is that serious. All in favour?”

The rest of the staff looked hesitant, but they all raised their hands. Da Vinci’s mechanical fingers tightened around her staff. She sighed, took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Okay… I suppose that’s as much as I can hope for. Thank you.” She took another breath, let it out slowly, then looked up.

“Everyone… the phenomenon that just occurred in the rayshift chamber was Kaleidoscope.

“It was Second Magic.”

[Milbunk]

Heavy is the Crown

From the moment Isolde was born, she was vastly different than the other children. Her status as royalty meant that she was not allowed to be around the common folk her age. Of course, people would think she was just a sheltered little girl, she was born and raised a princess of her country. When she was younger, she loved to play in the royal garden, the greenhouse was near the palace. Most girls would envy her, they wanted to be princesses too. It was always a dream for a girl to be one. But to her, the title brought nothing but pain and loneliness. It meant that she was not allowed to be around people her own age except for the nobility and rich people. Her siblings and her servants were her only friends at this point and she did long for freedom. Freedom that she would never be able to have. It also meant she had to uphold appearances, the family name, and even the Magecraft the royal family of Luxembourg had pride in for a long time.

She loved her grandfather and grandmother as well. When her grandmother died when the princess was 7, she cried in her room for hours on end. Her father, the Grand Duke of Luxembourg, was a kind and tender soul to his family. He comforted her, told her that grandmother was in heaven now and that they should be grateful for what she had done for the family. Her grand aunt Lovisa periodically visited the family, giving Princess Isolde her presents on Christmas. When the princess came of age at 14, it was time for Jean to teach her and train her on the family’s tradition of Magecraft. She did not plan to consider fighting just yet, but she was well-loved in her country. Isolde might as well train to defend the people in her country someday and represent it should the need to participate in the Grail War arise. When she turned 17 on her birthday, Jean decided that he should recommend her to attend the Clock Tower to study in London.

Her studies were diligent, never failing to meet expectations with the professors in her class. Some of the Clock Tower students seem to look at her with scorn, as if she wasn’t a traditional magus of her caliber. She aspired to be like her grand aunt who was a traditional magus and an alchemist from the Prague Association. The house of Guillaume was an ally of the Clock Tower, her brothers were alumni and were revered somewhat as the top magi of the class. It meant that Isolde would have to work hard if she wanted to be on top of their level and on top of the class. In addition to that, she wanted to be the best of the best, rivaled with the Lords of the Clock Tower. Many have stated that she was not someone who would be a magus and that was true. She was more wanting to become a politician for her country, someone who her people could look up to.

She enjoyed making people happy, but could not do so with Magecraft. It was ruled that Magecraft should be kept secret even if she wanted to help people smile and laugh. On the eve of her 18^th birthday, she was given a catalyst to summon her own Servant to protect her in the war. Her people were counting on her and she was going to make the summoning count. When she was given the catalyst, a branch that belonged to a temple thousands of years ago, she decided to summon her Servant.

The summoning took more than an hour to do, but a woman in a toga appeared before her. Isolde was awestruck, this woman was beautiful, gorgeous even. She was feeling the charms of this woman that made her drawn to her. It almost felt like...she was falling for her. At the end of the day, the woman who called herself Helen of Troy of the Caster class agreed to be her protector, her knight in shining armor. After she had brought Helen to the world, she began enlisting Takashi Emiya as her bodyguard, prompting Helen to get jealous of him whenever he was around.

After months of getting to know him, she fell for him and confessed her love to him while he was hesitant at first. Some months later, tragedy would strike as the country faced its worst fears. The reigning monarchs of Luxembourg, her parents, were assassinated by one of their bodyguards who had served them longer than Takashi, but he was immediately put into prison. She was devastated as every child would be when they lose their parents, so she had desired to take the throne if the people needed her to. At worst, the other members of the family were in danger, but her Servant had her protection over them. Her coronation would come which would crown her Grand Duchess of Luxembourg and she began her reign with a gentle, but firm heart.

However, it was not easy being the Grand Duchess, she had problems to deal with and those problems were to be dealt with swiftly.

[Milbunk]

The Modern Heroic Spirit

When I was young I always admired the path my ancestors took. The stories of men launched inside those tiny tin cans high into space surpassing the bounds of the Earth itself. They knew the risks, the dangers and the very real chances of never coming back, yet they did it anyways. Perhaps some had selfish reasons, perhaps others only sought to further mankind, but does it really matter what their thoughts were? In the end, their goals were all the same, through their journey mankind was able to do something not even the most powerful magi of old could claim, they reached towards the stars themselves, touching the moon.

Even when such ambitions projects had long since been abolished and humanities stagnation became ever more apparent, I didn’t care, through a simple crystal lens void of all the magecraft that had died an age ago I watched those very same stars, and I dreamed that one day I may one day follow in those footsteps.

I knew it was an impossible dream, a wish whose chances of succeeding ended before I had any chance. Yet I suppose that was what made me human, I couldn’t help it. I just thought, if I could meet even one of them once, wouldn’t that be awesome?

The Holy Grail War, a ritual that took place on the moon itself, where hackers fought for the chance to overcome humanities strongest legends and receive ones greatest desires.

I was only an average hacker, who followed such a path as mostly just a hobby, yet when I heard of this mysterious war that ran every few years I jumped on it in a heartbeat. The war took place on the moon! It was the chance in a lifetime, something I never thought I’d be able to accomplish.

My chances were slim at best, making it through the preliminaries was not an easy task, though I was not the last Master to find my way through those ancient gates I was pretty close.

“Whose path do you choose? What fate calls to you? Will you stand and fight?”

I was never one for fighting, but there was something I needed to see for my own eyes. Even if it was for a brief moment, I wanted to meet them, to see his face, the man who I admired for so long. Who allowed me to come further than anyone else had ever gotten me.

And it was here that I saw him, when the scales were finally balanced the flash of light faded, and the one who I admired for so long was before me.

“I am Servant Rider, Neil Armstrong, and I ask of you, are you my master?”

I didn’t care that his parameters were the lowest of the low, the fact that his Noble Phantasm was average at best was only an afterthought to me after I saw that shining reflective helmet gleaming in the pale moonlight. I was just happy, so very happy, for this chance of a lifetime, I had truly summoned the best Servant.

Our first opponent was really the worst of luck for us, though he appeared to be a boy in his teens and had the attitude of nothing more than a brat who spent his days in luxury he truly was a skilled hacker in his own way.

How could I, with nothing more than mediocre skill hope to stand a chance against such an overwhelming opponent?

His Servant was similarly powerful in her own right, through a slip of the tongue, Shinji carelessly leaker her identity, Francis Drake, the Voyager of the Storm, the captain who mercilessly brought an end to the unbeatable Spanish Armada. A true general who was a veteran of war, one who was not afraid to put her life on the line even for the sake of earning a few coins.

How could a modern hero stand a chance against something like that? It was obvious, my Rider, was a modern hero, he was not born in age of fire and brimstone, his was a time of peace, of near limitless prosperity where such conflicts were simply not needed. How could he hope to stand a chance?

When I expressed these doubts to Rider, he contemplated them for a time, before he simple asked.

“Why did you summon me Master?”

“I don’t care about strength, fame, or even mystery, I just wanted the chance to meet my hero face to face, the chance to prove that even if a Servant is considered weak, as long as the Master holds faith in them, then they can be victorious.”

“I see… Then nothing more needs to be said, use that faith in me your precious Servant, and seize that victory, no matter how slim the odds. It matters not how little the chance of victory, hold true to your beliefs, and be proud in what you will accomplish no matter how small it may be.”

The week went by while we managed to secure the keys necessary for entering the arena for the showdown with Shinji and his Rider.

As the elevator took us down to what may be our final destination I could not help but examine my opponents Rider to the best of my abilities. Though she fought with guns they had more than enough strength to equal the cannons on her ships. It was insane when considering that my Rider could only summon the parts to his rocket.

“Those cannons are going to rip your rocket to shreds Rider.”

“So? The ammo she can bring out must be limited in quantity, we need only hold out till she runs out.”

“But she can summon an entire armada! How is your rocket going to stand against a barrage of cannon fire ranking amongst the strongest Noble Phantasms?”

“Indeed, the amount of ships she can bring out is quite large, their cannons are quite fearful as well, but let me tell you something, Master. When I was strapped in that rocket launching to what many referred to as a pointless endeavor, do you think I was scared? Do you think I was worried about the high risk of failure? The fact that this was a journey no one else had been on before?”

“How could you be? You were given the chance of a lifetime!”

“Heh, well let me enlighten you, I was scared out of my mind! Even the slightest mistake would have resulted in a near instant fatality while my body would have been disintegrated from the hundreds of thousands of points of rocket fuel launching me and my team’s squishy bodies into the vacuum of space. But do you know why I did it?”

“No, why?”

“Because I could. Because I am human. It matters not where I came from, where I lived, or who I interacted with, I am human, so I simply wanted to see all that this world had to offer. Do you understand Master? You had a dream to summon a pointless Servant did you not? Not because he was the oldest, or the strongest, or even the most famous, but simply because you could.”

No more words needed to be said, it was impossible to argue with a judgement as true as that. The doors to the elevator opened, and the players made their way onto the stage.

“Well then Rider, let us see what the greatest voyager of the storm can truly do! I look forward to facing you with all my might. As I am of the Rider class as well I look forward to matching steed against steed, though you will find mine is quite unconventional.”

With a smirk Drake gratefully obliged, her guns fired barrage after barrage slamming into the giant steel tiles summoned forth by Armstrong.

Her ships cannons aimed to sink the astronaut to the bottom of the sea from whence he came. As fire melt steel, they fought, both voyagers, both the most power of humanity, ones who brought in a new era of humanity, whether that be the rise of English dominance in the world stage, or simply being the first person to step foot on the moon.

Armstrong grew strained at the sheer amount of projectiles coming his way. It was obvious after all, he was playing the defensive game, how long could he hold out? Before it came to that he needed to bring out his trump card.

“Your pretty good Drake. I will admit that. So what do you say to a good old fashioned showdown between Noble Phantasms. A true match between two points in time, let’s just see whose is better eh?”

The enemy paused her barrage momentarily and let out a grand laugh at the challenge. Her Master also grew excited at the proposition of his Servant’s strength.

“Very well then, here it goes. Allow me to show you the pinnacle of human technology, forged through a united purpose, to surpass the bounds of this mortal plane. Our goal was to reach the stars, I am the first human to reach the moon, I am the astronaut Neil Armstrong. Feel the fury of my Noble Phantasm, Path to the Moon, the most powerful rocket ever built for humans, Saturn V!”

The flames of the huge stores of rocket fuel ignited in an enormous blaze of glory as they collided with the wave of cannon fire launched from the Golden Hind and its armada.

Yet to me the results did not matter, my wish was already fulfilled, he may win, or he may lose. But to me he will always be Neil Armstrong, the strongest Heroic Spirit.

[Milbunk]

The Sorrow of Kings