[FF] Trinity VII: The Twilight (Type-Moon/Harry Potter X-over)

[Reinholdt]

Crippling people properly can make victories feel more phyrric than the bitterness of their deaths. You also don't need to kill off main cast members to make the death toll and collateral felt.
You've been doing great so far. I feel confident that whatever route you choose, you will make it work with what you have already crafted.

[Kieran]

I appreciate your confidence.

It's still a really tricky decision, though, isn't it . . .?

(And I'll be putting up a new "Angle" after this is posted, just so you're not too bored. )

[B.B. Rain]

. . . And it's been a while, obviously.

Part of the reason for the delay is that I've been considering the concept of casualties; I don't think it'd be entirely realistic for the good guys to get through this without any deaths, but I'm loathe to go the Rowling route of killing people just to kill people.

Thoughts and opinions?

(And yes, I am aware that there's no real dramatic impact in Galen's dying, by now - seeing as he's the only person Shirou knows who doesn't die when he is killed. )

Did they plan as well as they could?

Did they take as many precautions as they could, including contingencies and preparing the battlefield to a fare-thee-well?

Do they have numerical parity, if not an outright numerical advantage?

Are their enemies, at least the rank and file, incompetent to some extent?

Since this is a battle of magic users, are their people of roughly equal, if not superior, personal strength?

Have they put in better training and tactics then the opposition?

Are their people more disciplined, more coordinated?

Is their medical capability, both in the immediate death-prevention, and the longer term recovery capacity, significant?

Do they have personal protections able to stop the majority of enemy attacks, and the knowledge to dodge what they can't block?

Sometimes one force really has done their jobs well enough to outmatch the enemy to the point they don't lose anyone. As far as I can recall, you've shown enough preparation and build-up on both sides to justify having the good guys pull this off...

...even before you get into the possibilities brought on by luck potions and short-range time travel, not to mention the fact that one side has Noble Phantasm tier artifacts, and the other side doesn't.

[ghost001]

Well, I thought the battle was going too good for the heroes. The girls should have died by hands of Greyback.
While I understand that protagonists trained most of their lifes, the other students began training only shortly before the battle, after Galen and other came back from the hunt; magically they should inferior to Dumstrang students, who are well versed in dark magic, and certainly know a few tricks Hogwarts students never heard of.
If you want to make the battle more realistic, you just have to play with numbers - there are certainly more dark wizards, and some creatures they brought should have survived. No matter the amount of training, none of them is on the level of Dumbledore, and superior numbers of the enemy should make some difference.
Also, Voldy could use dementors; unfortunately, I don't recall if he had done it already, but it would make sense to save them for later, when enemy is magically exhausted, as patronus takes a lot of effort to cast.
Perhaps Slytherin students could manage to break free and some of then would join the DE.
Voldemort could use some badass magic - he single handedly took down the wards, so it makes sense to show how dangerous he really is, especially that you made him stronger than he was in cannon, so having him killed by a rock would be anticlimatic - in the bad sense of the word. I had feeling you wanted Shin to kill him; would it not be better is Shin, after tearing through forces of Voldy, was taken out by a single combination of spells?
There is a lot potential to make this battle more equal and therefore more realistic, and I'd love to see that. Hope my comment will help you in writing next chapter.

[Heart of the Star]

Crippling people properly can make victories feel more phyrric than the bitterness of their deaths. You also don't need to kill off main cast members to make the death toll and collateral felt.
You've been doing great so far. I feel confident that whatever route you choose, you will make it work with what you have already crafted.

Yeah, i have to agree with this. Sometimes having a character survive but be hurt by something is more impactful than simply killing them off. In Final Fantasy 15 for example

Spoiler:

when Ignis gets blinded it hurts way more than if he had just died. Because of all the interactions with him dealing with it and everyone else having to deal with him in his new state

[Kieran]

Well, I thought the battle was going too good for the heroes. The girls should have died by hands of Greyback.

I might agree, but canon showed that Lavender and the Patils could at least hold him off with a year's worth of advanced combat training; the fact that said training was in seventh rather than fifth year should, arguably, imply they could do better than that.

While I understand that protagonists trained most of their lifes, the other students began training only shortly before the battle, after Galen and other came back from the hunt; magically they should inferior to Dumstrang students, who are well versed in dark magic, and certainly know a few tricks Hogwarts students never heard of.

Again, not arguing. In this case, the Elixir and their tactics are making up a lot of the difference.

If you want to make the battle more realistic, you just have to play with numbers - there are certainly more dark wizards, and some creatures they brought should have survived. No matter the amount of training, none of them is on the level of Dumbledore, and superior numbers of the enemy should make some difference.

Yeah - it's just a matter of figuring out to what degree.

Also, Voldy could use dementors; unfortunately, I don't recall if he had done it already, but it would make sense to save them for later, when enemy is magically exhausted, as patronus takes a lot of effort to cast.

The Veela played a decent counter, earlier.

Perhaps Slytherin students could manage to break free and some of then would join the DE.

Maybe . . .

Voldemort could use some badass magic - he single handedly took down the wards, so it makes sense to show how dangerous he really is, especially that you made him stronger than he was in cannon, so having him killed by a rock would be anticlimatic - in the bad sense of the word.

No arguments.

I had feeling you wanted Shin to kill him; would it not be better is Shin, after tearing through forces of Voldy, was taken out by a single combination of spells?

. . . I wasn't planning that at all, really.

There is a lot potential to make this battle more equal and therefore more realistic, and I'd love to see that. Hope my comment will help you in writing next chapter.

Worth thinking about, certainly.

Yeah, i have to agree with this. Sometimes having a character survive but be hurt by something is more impactful than simply killing them off. In Final Fantasy 15 for example

Spoiler:

when Ignis gets blinded it hurts way more than if he had just died. Because of all the interactions with him dealing with it and everyone else having to deal with him in his new state

Fair point. Also worth thinking about.

[hatori]

Looking foward to the remaining loose ends

[Kieran]

I am working on it, slowly - between work, writer's block, and myriad distractions (which, as of today, includes injury - fell and landed my off-hand's thumb), I'm only up to about 25% completion.

. . . I have been attempting to keep everybody entertained in the interim (via the Angles thread) - but looking back a couple of posts, I hadn't realised it'd been that long, either. I'll do what I can.


EDIT: Still working - up to about 40%, and the scene's 2/3 (?) done. I'll keep working on it tomorrow (Labour Day means I'm off), and either have it or a new Angle up.

[hatori]

At this point, I honestly think that Shin and Voldie are the final 2 loose ends.

Shin, given the number of boosts given back to him via transmorgifyian( did i spell that right?) torture as well as the inferius ritual, will probably be a handful to some of the adults. But to be frank, his real opponent should be Shiki.

As for Voldie...

To be fair, he's been already outfoxed, outplanned and is seething mad. I guess having the original Trinity face off him before their parents can reach is doable.

[Kieran]

At this point, I honestly think that Shin and Voldie are the final 2 loose ends.

. . . There's still Bellatrix, and I believe Barty (I really should double-check that before I go much further in scene-writing, eh?) - but yeah, that's more or less correct.

Shin, given the number of boosts given back to him via transmorgifyian( did i spell that right?)

No, but I know what you mean.

torture as well as the inferius ritual, will probably be a handful to some of the adults.

That is my plan, at the moment . . .

But to be frank, his real opponent should be Shiki.

. . . An interesting possibility - especially since, depending on how much he's willing to sacrifice, Shiki can literally drop him with a look.

As for Voldie...

To be fair, he's been already outfoxed, outplanned and is seething mad. I guess having the original Trinity face off him before their parents can reach is doable.

Doable, and mostly the plan; it's just a matter of who he runs into first . . .



. . . And on a semi-related topic: based on the latest (and final) Fantastic Beasts trailer, I'm now wondering if I did Nagini a disservice, killing her off as easily as I did (along with a general sense of "What the HECK?" mind you . . .).

[Xamusel]

Don't worry, you killed Barty off, Kieran. I remember that at least.

[hatori]

Bellatrix : Pulped by Neville with a modified-use depulso+shield charm combo ( Or at least that was what was hinted at in chapter 81)
Barty: Boom - Headshot by Shirou

So unless Bella somehow survived, or the slytherins managed to break out of their dorms ( not to mention the collapsed hallways) there literally are no other loose ends to clear up beyond the cannon fodder ( which apparently was being taken care of by Takara in the hallways).

As for killing off Nagini... Nah, it wasn't too early. And nobody could've seen that one coming.

[Kieran]

Thanks. I did go back and re-read the assault to this point, so there shouldn't be any holes (this time) . . .

And since I'm up to just over 70% complete on the chapter, I'm going to forego my usual "Angle" fill-in tonight in hopes of posting a completed chapter tomorrow - I hope nobody minds?

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of J.K. Rowling, along with her publishers and Warner Bros., as regards the movie material.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.



Writer's Note: Certain dialogue sequences in this story are lifted from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, but I trust in the intelligence of my readers (and the availability of the books) to recognise them.




Chapter 82 – Death and Destruction




May 2, 1998






Never in his life had Rubeus Hagrid not known what it was like to be strong, and tough. As a half-giant, that was more or less his lot; and in recent years, he’d grown to acknowledge that it was also the reason he tended to think of some of the more dangerous magical creatures as “harmless.” Certainly, some of them were misunderstood – either because people were afraid, or didn’t handle them properly – but it was also true that many of them were harmful, to people who weren’t him. It was simply a fact of his nature.

He’d always known what it was like to be strong and tough . . . But this was something else.

He was stronger – strong enough to tear one of the stone bridges down before the Death Eaters could cross it. He was tougher – tough enough to shrug off a half-dozen curses that would’ve sent him to Madam Pomfrey before. And – for the first time in his life – his muscles had the strength and flexibility to keep up with his weight. A single bound was capable of sending him rocketing towards them like a centaur at full gallop, send his fists in faster than they could cast a curse or charm, and let him react fast enough to rocket away before they’d really had time to respond . . .

In short, he was now fast, as well.

Amazing stuff, the Elixir of Life, Hagrid reflected. He could see why Dumbledore had saved it for this.

Great man, Albus Dumbledore; not perfect – he’d made mistakes as he’d gotten on in years, as they’d learned – but still . . . Professor McGonagall had said it best, he thought.

“The trouble,” she’d said, “is that we – all of us - placed too much on one man, however great a man, without remembering that he was a man, as subject to growing old and making mistakes as the rest of us. It was inevitable that he would begin to fail in some manner, no matter how hard he tried; and it must be said that he tried as hard as anyone could – and far more than most ever would, as well.”

True enough, Hagrid thought, and he aimed to live up to the example. Hogwarts was his home – had been for almost all of his life, and it’d been a long one; he’d seen more than one generation of classes pass through these walls in his time. Had his favourites, of course, and more than a few he’d been glad to see the back of, as well, even here and now . . . But he’d not have let even the likes of Draco Malfoy, if he’d still been alive, be left to the mercies of such as this, even if he’d been just the Keeper of Keys and Grounds again, and not a teacher.

Hogwarts was his home, and he’d defend it against the likes of this, or die trying.

Fortunately for him, it seemed to be mostly the other side doing that – or as close to it as he needed to make them.

That’s the thing about Dark wizards, Hagrid reflected, as he crumpled another Death Eater’s arms like most people would do a piece of parchment, and then ripped off the mangled pieces with equal ease. They’re not so much inclined towards healing, at all.

The half-giant was sure they had some people with the appropriate skills – Snape had been a Death Eater, after all, and healing was part of Potions – but in general, there weren’t liable to be too many. Certainly, there were none of Madam Pomfrey’s skill; and not many Dark wizards kept the appropriate potions and such at hand, either. So killing them wasn’t strictly necessary, provided he could just do enough damage to put them out of the fight.

And if there was one thing Rubeus Hagrid knew how to do, it was damage – he’d spent most of his life trying not to, after all . . .

A sudden crash drew him from his thoughts, leading the half-giant’s eyes to behold . . . Actually, he wasn’t sure what it was, beyond spiky, obviously undead – and based on how easily it’d shattered those statues, very strong.

“Ow . . . Za . . . Kee . . .” the thing growled.

Hagrid scowled. Wasn’t hard to figure out who that meant – most wizards didn’t pronounce her name too well, if they could be bothered to try. Even Professor McGonagall had needed some practice!

“If you’re after Takara,” he growled, “then I’ve got summat to say about tha’.”

He dashed forward with a roar, fist swinging out – and roared louder, when his fingers were cut on the bony spikes! Still, the creature flew satisfyingly into a wall from the force of the impact . . . And then proceeded to get up, as if nothing had happened.

Hagrid stared, shaking his bleeding hand.

“Well,” he muttered, his scowl deepening. “This is gonna be interestin’ . . .”






In the days of his mortality, before ascending to his rightful destiny, Lord Voldemort had never put much stock in physical accomplishments. After all, what could mere flesh and bone equal in the face of magic, and the feats that it enabled the mind to accomplish?

Admittedly, following his . . . Discorporation, he’d become far more appreciative of the physical realm; there was nothing like being reduced to less than the meanest of ghosts to teach one how to savour even the smallest of sensations. Still, he’d never considered the sheer joy that could be attained through the base method of physical exertion.

He found, however, that dodging bullets was a thorough teacher.

Despite his rhetoric, Lord Voldemort was no stranger to the Muggle world, or its capabilities. He knew well the power of guns; he had lived in an orphanage during the Blitz, after all. However, he firmly believed that there was no creation wrought by Muggle hands could not be bested by magic, guns amongst them. After all, a common Disarmng Charm worked as well on firearms as it did on wands – and the simplest of Transfigurations could render them impotent. Or, if one was so inclined, even more deadly to their wielders than to their targets.

However, in this battle he faced a gun whose range exceeded that of any duelling spell ever taught. Worse, it was a gun wielded by a wizard, and one that he had learned had to be accounted for as a master of his trade; that trade being the killing of other wizards. That man had been the source of far too many setbacks for the Dark Lord to think otherwise, however begrudgingly.

Therefore, though it pained him, he dodged.

The Inferi he’d created served as excellent cover, and means of breaking line of sight, but by no means was that the sole safeguard he employed – and it was this that taught him to appreciate the capacities of his body. Without the speed of his reflexes, the keenness of his senses, and the sheer agility – nay; say rather, the flexibility – of his form, it was undeniable that Lord Voldemort would have been struck by at least one shot. Nor was there any doubt that such a strike would have been deadly; that man would not miss the opportunities offered by enchanting in regards to his ammunition.

He might well have survived the shot – his resistances to magic, poison, and sheer force were not inconsiderable, after all – but Lord Voldemort would undoubtedly have been inconvenienced, at least. Instead, he nimbly darted across the battlefield, sailing past or under the hail of deadly missiles – too swift for even him to see – and made his way towards the castle.

Inasmuch as Lord Voldemort desired to wreak havoc and inflict terror upon his enemies – very, very much, in point of fact – he had come to the conclusion that it was better to verify one of his previous assumptions, instead. After all, if the Horcrux he had stored within the castle had actually remained undiscovered (unlikely, he admitted, yet not impossible), it would be remarkably foolish of him to leave it there. After all, once he won they would have to scour the castle from top to bottom for traps; Dumbledore would not have left anything behind, or been too spineless to use it, and his disciples were of the same mould – but that man and his associates were of a different breed entirely.

Really, it was a pity they would not be turned to his service. He’d have won decades ago, with tools like them at his disposal . . .

Regardless, it would the height of foolishness to leave his Horcrux in place, assuming it was unharmed, because it would be discovered, given the thoroughness of the search that would be needed. And he could not guarantee that knowledge of its existence could be suppressed, because it was dependent on the circumstances of its discovery; given the nature of some of the defences he’d employed for it, the entire castle might be alerted to it. And powerful though he might be, Obliviating the whole of Hogwarts at once was, as yet, beyond him. And so, moving it would be the best course, particularly while he had the present chaos at his disposal to distract potential observers.

. . . Of course, all that presumed that it hadn’t been destroyed, after all; but it was still worth verifying, he felt. Because if it did indeed still exist – if he was yet immortal – then he could dispense with a number of his present tactics, and pursue his goals far more aggressively—

The Dark Lord paused, frowning. It was difficult to discern, with all the ambient magic in the air; were his senses not so keen – and even then, if he were not Lord Voldemort, with all his skill and experience – he likely would never have noticed . . . But upon careful observation, it appeared that a particular hallway on the seventh floor had been reinforced, even beyond the castle’s normal enchantments.

Which virtually assures the fact that my Horcrux has been found, of course – however, the rationale of my decision stands. After all, I used it for a hiding place; it is not beyond the realm of possibility to believe that they would do the same, and yet all the while overlook the treasure in their midst.

. . . Moreover, if they did seek to hide something within the room, I would know what it was. No doubt they would place a similar value upon it as I did my Horcrux, and such a thing could prove most useful as leverage . . .

While skilled in all forms of magical travel, Fumation was a particular favourite. It was not as swift as Apparition (nor as discomfiting), and lacked the manoeuvrability of broomstick-riding (and the indignity), but was second only to those in both. Moreover, the appearance of it – of a human body dissolving into smoke, and drifting, wraith-like, towards someone – was an excellent psychological weapon against his foes; particularly those who had faced Dementors.

And as a little-known perquisite, Fumation’s relative obscurity in the western world meant that virtually no magical defence in Brtiain was designed to oppose it.

It was the work of a heartbeat to assume the tenebrous form, and the work of a moment longer to build up the necessary momentum. It took true skill and no small amount of precision to calibrate his tangibility just so, that he had enough mass to shatter one of the hallway windows without regaining sufficient density that gravity would take hold – but he was, after all, Lord Voldemort.

To the credit of his enemies, no sooner had he entered the hallway than its defenders stood ready: the gormless cow Sprout, the harridan McGonagall, and the half-breed, Flitwick – Dumbledore’s lackeys and legacy. Not so fine a statement of superiority as victory over the old man himself, but good enough; they’d prove little challenge to him, and stand as a testament to the end of their era.

“Professors . . .” he greeted politely, in a tone that equal parts of silk and venom. “How kind of you to be so prompt to your demises . . .”






Minerva McGonagall was not a coward, but neither was she a fool; in years past, she’d left the self-styled Lord Voldemort to Albus Dumbledore because she recognised that she was simply out of her league in regards to the Dark wizard. The fact that Albus had been fought to a draw by the man merely proved her belief. But now that Dumbledore was dead, and “You-Know-Who” had invaded her school, her home, to harm her students, the once-and-present Headmistress had no choice

She had never known Tom Riddle as a student, and rarely glimpsed the wizard he’d made of himself during the first war against him. Never before had she’d seen the monster he’d become now, and upon seeing him, she found that “monster” was the most apt description possible.

The creature that stood before them was tall and thin to the point of gauntness; but it was an illusion, as she could see whipcord muscles tighten beneath his hide as he moved. And quite the hide it was: black and charred still, from the recent explosion, cracking and flaking with each movement. Still, a patina of its original draconian appearance could be glimpsed beneath the charcoal-like coating, one that became more and more apparent as he continued breaking bits of it off over time; he was gradually but measurably healing, even now, and to judge by the ease of his movements, not slowed by his injuries in the slightest.

Combined with his ophidian features – black marbles for eyes, save for bloody, reptilian slits that blazed in their depth with unholy fury and power, and a mouth full of dagger-like fangs – he was a figure out of nightmare, in truth. In this instance, the appearance genuinely reflected the inner nature of the man, if he could truly be said to be a man at all, anymore.

. . . As such, she felt no guilt when Filius, hiding his movements behind her taller form, Vanished the brick in the wall to her side, where they’d hollowed out a receptacle to hold several of Pomona’s uprooted Mandrakes.

The high-pitched screech that filled the air on being exposed pounded against her eardrums even through the plugs she’d Conjured – they could hardly have risked tipping their hand by using earmuffs, after all – but the headache was worth it. Rewarded with the sight of the terror of Britain staggering to his knees with a cry of agony that was barely audible over the cacophony, it was worth a great deal more, in fact.

McGonagall allowed herself a thin smile at the sight of the reptilian horror spasming on the floor, as much because of the surprise in his expression as the more than due suffering. He had not expected such tactics from them, obviously; and in ordinary circumstances, he’d have been right to do so. But for all that they revered the man, none of them was Albus Dumbledore; and even when working together, it was unlikely that they could equal him. But they were teachers, dedicated to passing on knowledge and advancing it, which required creativity.

So, when faced with a threat that only Albus Dumbledore could have beaten in open combat, did it not make sense for them to seek alternatives? Particularly when a particular alternative method had proven remarkably effective, thus far?

In this specific instance, Minerva was not above borrowing a leaf from her students’ books; if traps had caught You-Know-Who off-guard, she was quite prepared to use one – and was equally prepared to make certain that it worked.

Even so, she was caught by surprise by the Killing Curse that flicked out at the Mandrakes – both the speed by which it did so and the force of it, which caused an explosion in the stone wall so massive that it effectively collapsed it wholesale.

The top of the tower – its destroyed supports leaving it all but sheared off – tipped under its own weight and tumbled to the ground below, while dropping large portions of the walls and its own lower sections into the interior. At that point, it required both her Transfiguration expertise and Filius’ speed and knowledge of Charms to shield them all from the flying and falling debris while maintaining the integrity of the corridor. And as it was, she suspected that only the Elixir of Life’s enchantments upon their bodies enabled them to be able to do so.

Thank you, Albus, she mentally acknowledged.

As the muted crashes of tonnes of stone and glass, not to mention the assorted dust clouds, faded, McGonagall heard a faint sound of dripping liquid. Looking down, she saw that the floor of what remained of the corridor, now thoroughly plugged with debris, was oddly damp – and hot. Glancing at her colleagues, it was Pomona Sprout who shrugged.

“Transfigured the stone of the floor to lava,” she said. “Took some time, but the Mandrakes and the collapse gave me enough – and enough distraction that he didn’t notice.” She glanced at the minor mountain of wreckage which thoroughly plugged whatever gap her Transfiguration had created in the floor. “He’s not liable to get through now.”

“Well done, Pomona!” Filius cried.

“Indeed,” McGonagall agreed with a nod, thoroughly impressed. Stone to lava was a simple Transfiguration as such things went – the two being merely different forms of the same material – but hardly an easy one. Nor was Transfiguration easy for Pomona; she was hardly incapable when it came to the art, but such an action lay well outside her most commonly-used skills.

The rotund witch reddened under the praise. “Yes, well. I doubt it killed him – if he could survive that blast of Einzbern’s and the Mandrakes’ cries, I don’t see a little lava having much effect.”

“Every little bit helps,” Filius assured them, in a tone of long experience. “Sometimes it’s a matter of endurance: everyone has limits – even him – and if we keep chipping away at him, he’ll hit them eventually.” He paused, and then added reluctantly, “The question is whether he will before we do.”

McGonagall didn’t have an answer to that. Nor, looking around, did the either of the others. She opened her mouth to say something—

And then the world exploded.






It was hard to say who was more surprised to see Hagrid, of all people, thrown into the castle (specifically, through the wall): Shiki, or the Death Eaters that the half-giant bowled into.

It was easy to say who was more injured, of course; Hagrid was not a small man in any sense of the word, and despite his innate toughness and weight even he had to be thrown with significant force to shatter stone as he had. None of the Death Eaters he had hit would be getting up without time and/or medical intervention – and from the look of it, neither would Hagrid.

Which, of course, begs the question of just who’s responsible—

As if in answer, the roar came from outside.

“OW – ZA – KIIIII!”

Ask a stupid question . . .

The creature – at this point, there was no other word for it – had a similarity to Tsumi Tohno that caused a cold shudder to run down his spine. The size, ferocity, and general features were too close not to make the connection. But it was not quite as large as the Tohno enforcer had been, and more articulate (in that it could talk at all, rather than utter wordless howls of fury, in the event it bothered to speak in the first place), and covered with bladed protrusions built from its skeleton. It probably wasn’t as tough . . . Then again, it had beaten a half-giant dosed with the Elixir of Life, which was no small feat.

Shiki had always had a fearsome reputation. It came, in part, with his job description – to say nothing of his record. The other part, of course, was the Nanaya bloodline’s doing, which was no less fearsome here than in his original world; given that their Death Sight gave them all an equivalent to the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, perhaps even more so. But he’d always been limited in the use he could get out of that heritage, for two reasons – and the obvious flaw of the Death Sight’s burning up his lifespan in exchange for its use wasn’t one of them.

Firstly, their destruction had been no less thorough in this world – though again, given their capabilities that could hardly be surprising. Secondly, until very recently, the magic-users of Nihon had been no less stagnant in their thinking than the British (again, if not more so) – to them, magic was the will of the kami, and questioning it was heretical at best. Digging into the origins and mechanics of it was not approved of. As such, he’d always been relegated to what few scraps of history and techniques Aoko had been able to find over the years.

. . . And then, he’d encountered Rin Tohsaka’s Kaleidostick.

The two analogues of the Nanaya bloodline were very different, as might be expected; they operated under different metaphysical laws, to begin with. But the effective goal of the two – and their end result – was still very much the same. Shiki no longer had a split personality, and couldn’t have the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception without accessing the Kaleidostick again.

But his killing instincts were back.

No heartbeat. No breathing. Acts with no restraint, even to prevent self-harm; every attack, every movement is at full strength, full speed. Movements are instinctual, frenzied; incapable of complex planning, driven by rage/pain. Believes it is in pain, but purely psychological; incapable of feeling pain. Will not be stopped, save by dismemberment/decapitation/immolation/dissolution . . .

Skeletal structure is both exo- and endo- in type; growths protect joints, eyes, and throat – any vulnerable points. Exterior bones are like coral: rough-surfaced and sharp, even beyond the actual cutting edges and tips – contact will cause lacerations. Bone blades and armour extremely strong; after fighting Hagrid carapace is cracked, but not broken.

“Accio bone fragments,” he whispered, and the not-quite-separate pieces that lined the creature’s body twisted outward, towards him. Focussing himself on the eyes, Shiki pulled . . .

Several small splinters came hurtling towards him in a near-invisible blur—

“Depulso.”

—And rocketed back into the sockets with a satisfying squelch.

The monster howled once more, blinded, even as Shiki repeated the trick with the creature’s torso, seizing onto a rib even as it charged forward. It took all the mental and physical agility he could muster, but Shiki managed to hold onto the spell, even as he leaped onto the creature’s outstretched arm, and did so again before he’d barely landed, somersaulting over its head . . .

In years to come, stories would be told of this next move. All of them would be embellished somewhat, because no one among the many, many witnesses was fast enough to actually see it done clearly – and not being one to brag, Shiki would never elaborate on the details.

As best as it could be reconstructed, however, the rib bone broke with a crack like a gunshot, and the Nanaya head seized that piece in mid-leap as it rocketed towards his wand tip. Then, he twisted in some kind of impossible human knot, and drove the bone fragment, with the full force of his weight and momentum behind it, across and through the creature’s throat, down towards the ground. The bone blade – as hard as the carapace itself, and enchanted to be as sharp as anything imaginable – sheared through the monster like an axe splitting a log, taking its head, left arm, and a good portion of its upper torso completely off. The near-silent thump of Shiki’s landing was echoed by the resounding crash of the creature’s own descent to the ground . . .

At which point it became, and remained, utterly still.

Breathing hard, Shiki took a moment to centre his thoughts, a spark of self-satisfaction ignited deep within—

And then the top of the Divination Tower exploded.







Additional Writer's Notes: Apologies for the double-post and the six-month wait. I promise not to keep you in suspense that long ever again. Enjoy!

[Xamusel]

...what just happened at the end? I'm confused.

[hatori]

Bone stabbed in the eyes to blind Shin ( or is it Dot-stabbed in the eyes)
Same thing to the torso, neck twisted to breaking point, before stabbing it with the rib-bone. Decapitated with own arm-blade,left shoulder and upper left chest also sheared off in multiple pieces ( probably what you'd expect from having cut arcruied into seventeen pieces)

And damn, you managed to squeeze Hagrid in too! I totally forgot about him.

And this loose end is tied up.

Totally looking forward to the last loose end now.

[Kieran]

...what just happened at the end? I'm confused.

Bone stabbed in the eyes to blind Shin ( or is it Dot-stabbed in the eyes)
Same thing to the torso, neck twisted to breaking point, before stabbing it with the rib-bone. Decapitated with own arm-blade,left shoulder and upper left chest also sheared off in multiple pieces ( probably what you'd expect from having cut arcruied into seventeen pieces)

More or less this - he Summoned the cracked pieces of Shin's carapace until they broke off, then drove them back in. In the case of the rib, he snatched it in mid-flight, then used his momentum to bring it down and through the top of Shin's neck and left shoulder; the bone was tough enough that the only thing that could really hurt Shin was himself.

. . . Unless you're talking about the exploding Divination Tower, in which case - Riddle has finally decided "To hell with subtle."

And damn, you managed to squeeze Hagrid in too! I totally forgot about him.

I hadn't, exactly, but with such a large-scale battle, it's hard to fit in all the points of view that I really want to - but even so, I thought that ignoring the Hogwarts staff outright was a bad idea.

*Chuckles* How many of you expected the Professors' trap?

And this loose end is tied up.

Totally looking forward to the last loose end now.

Likewise - and I sincerely hope it won't take me that long ever again . . .


. . . Incidentally, I recently picked up the Kara no Kyoukai set; it had a hand in developing my portrayal of Shiki's mindset here. Think I got it right?

[MWkillkenny84]

Good chapter (sorry for the delay), and I half expected Hagrid to use the fact that he can think more clearly than his foe to grab the thing-that-was-Shin by the leg/foot and start to use it to beat Death Eaters, as per the meme "I will beat a motherf*cker... with another motherf*cker!"

As for the rest, good job... how much would bbe scared Voldemort if he was to learn that the other incarnations of Kiritsugu (like the Counter Guardian one) can be even more lethal for magic users than the one that is playing "Snipe Riddle from Afar!" with him?

[Kieran]

Good chapter (sorry for the delay),

It happens, and thank you.

and I half expected Hagrid to use the fact that he can think more clearly than his foe to grab the thing-that-was-Shin by the leg/foot and start to use it to beat Death Eaters, as per the meme "I will beat a motherf*cker... with another motherf*cker!"

. . . Tempting, but I thought using Hagrid as an example of just how tough Shin is right now was better. And those bone blades make him hard to grab without losing fingers.

As for the rest, good job...

Thank you, again.

how much would bbe scared Voldemort if he was to learn that the other incarnations of Kiritsugu (like the Counter Guardian one) can be even more lethal for magic users than the one that is playing "Snipe Riddle from Afar!" with him?

. . . Potentially "Shirou versus Berserker's killing intent" scared?

[Kieran]

So, I was hoping to have a new chapter out today, with having the weekend off and a good chunk of it planned out in my head - but the flu vaccine is having its usual "kick me" effect, so I spent most of it sleeping. Sorry.

. . . On the bright side, I still have 4 pages done and a good three or four (depending on things) still planned out, so assuming I can shake off this malaise quick enough to make use of what free time I have this week, I should be good for next week? I hope, anyways.

As always, sorry for the wait.