My Little Carnival Phantasm Can't be This Cute!

[OverMaster]

Shakespeare Writes Lemon Fanfiction.

"You are making them do it, aren't you," accused the voice from his doorstep.

"I have no idea what are you talking about, dear Miss," the playwright said, taking a moment to touch the tip of his tongue with his quill, and then starting to write again. "But, if you would like to enlighten this poor, oft befuddled soul...?"

Atalanta growled, baring her teeth, from where she stood in her long bedrobe, pressing a plush bear against an ear and a pillow against the other. "They've never been that noisy! No, scratch that, they've never been doing THAT before, period!"

Caster hummed, vaguely interested. "And you would know this, because...?"

Atalanta indignantly pointed at her nose. "Other than because it's always been obvious he's never been interested on those things before, they've never smelled of what I'm smelling now! I'm not a harlot, true, but that doesn't mean I haven't ever smelt the arousal of others! Every damned would be husband who came to me stunk of it!"

"Is it that much of an issue if they do whatever they are doing behind closed doors?" Caster asked languidly, turning a page and starting on the next.

"My smell isn't the only sense of mine that is superior to yours!" the Archer protested, pulling up on her ears.

"My sympathies," Caster said quite falsely, "but there's nothing I can do about it."

"You are causing it!" Atalanta said. "You're now writing licencious stories, aren't you...!"

"Oh, I am," Caster admitted shamelessly, "but you should know it's not like I could influence them anyway. Most especially not him. There are, sadly, too many limitations to my Noble Phantasm. Truly, not up to the heights of my genius, not that I am complaining..."

"And why should I believe you when you say this?" the Archer sneered.

Caster turned his chair around, then offered the folios he had been working on, spread for her to read. "I submit my works to the critique of my peers. Readily, for I have no shame on the fruits of my ingenuity!"

Atalanta blushed bright crimson, as if a snake had just bitten her. "V-Very well! I believe you! But, but keep that dirty thing away from me...!"

Shakespeare made a truly wounded face as she spun back on her heels and stomped away. "Oh dear. Censorship is one thing, but downright rejection is even worse. Are you sure you don't wish to give it a read, Miss? It could help you release your tensions, so you aren't so bothered..."

"I, I'm not bothered!" Archer cried out, storming down the halls of the Red Faction's fortress and getting as far from the Caster as she could... only to run into a hard, broad chest upon turning a corner.

Achilles, fresh off the bath and with a towel around his waist and another around his shoulders, blinked. "Oh, sorry about that! I wasn't paying attention, there seems to be something in the air tonight..."

Atalanta rubbed herself on the face, sighing. "Don't worry, I guess I was distracted too. Maybe I'm just worried about tomorrow's battle..."

Achilles smiled. "Are you? Don't you worry, I'll be there for you the whole time..."

She frowned at him. "As if that made any difference!"

"You know I will, regardless," he gently offered.

Atalanta's face moved in interesting ways then, as if struggling with some very deep internal conflict, and she finally said, "You know what, let's get out. I challenge you. To a race!"

Back in the Caster's studio, he smirked roguishly, finally lifting his gaze off the pages to look at his invisible audience.

"How do I do it?" he wondered aloud. "Oh, I didn't lie! This is not a tale of the Master and Assassin, I had nothing to do with that one. And my Noble Phantasm has, indeed, many limits! However, as I said, my genius does not. And part of the genius consists of never revealing how it works."

Quite satisfied with himself, William Shakespeare returned to working industriously.

---

Curtain.

[King of Padoru]

Further proof about Atalante being the cutest waifu

[OverMaster]

What Happened to Us?

"We've got to talk," Tamamo told Nero.

"What is it?"

"It's about you and me. Our relationship isn't what it used to be! Our beautiful enmity has cooled down, so much, mikooooon! Today, just looking at Artoria Alter and Jeanne Alter... They still have the same chemistry we used to have! What happened to us, Shameless Emperor? What happened to our beautiful mutual distaste?! You never insult me anymore!"

Nero huffed haughtily. "You've got a lot of nerve saying that after taking that horned snake as your love rival, jackal! Did you think I wouldn't notice? This Emperor plays no second actor to anyone!"

"You've got that wrong! Kiyohime is only a good old friend to exchange catty comments and the ocassional murder attempt with! You still are my rival, Whore of Babylon! My only true rival! Why don't you feel the same anymore? I've noticed! You prefer spending more time with Liz nowadays!"

"Umu! We only bond over singing, that is all!"

"That is a lie!" Tamamo wailed. "Because that thing you do can't be called singing...!"

Then they silently stared at each other.

"Very well," Nero finally said. "There is only one thing we can do about this."

---

Arjuna stared angrily at them. "I believe you are grievously mistaken. That is not the nature of our relationship..."

"Oh, come on!" Tamamo pouted. "Surely you could offer us some useful advice...!"

"I'm reaching for my bow now," Arjuna dryly warned, doing so.

[OverMaster]

The Easiest Solution.

Rin kept on pointing across the room.

She pointed at Medea. "You, Jason, Glauce! Boom, problem solved!"

She pointed at Diarmuid and Fionn. "You two, Gráinne! Boom, problem solved!"

Then she pointed at Lancelot, and then at Artoria, who sat by her side along a very uncomfortable Shirou. "You, her, Guinevere! Boom, problem solved!"

Then she shook her head to herself and huffed. "Why did people back then fail to see the obvious so much?"

"... well," Penthesilea had to admit reluctantly, sitting with those others watching the tirade from the sidelines. "I suppose it sort of worked for that man my niece approached to draw her comic book."

[OverMaster]

What If Shirou had Summoned...?

A tall, towering, grinning, strapping man appeared before him.

"I am Napoleon of the Archer class!" the stranger bombastically announced himself. "The Man of Possibilities, the Man Firing Rainbows. The Hero of the Human Order who has come to bring you victory!"

Immediately, several men in white rushed the room, tightened a straightjacket around the struggling stranger, and pulled him away, as he shouted vile interjections in French at them.

Lancer and Shirou stared stupidly at this scene, then at each other. "What was all of that about?!" Lancer finally asked.

---

A gorgeous woman in white with long pink hair appeared before Shirou.

"I am Medb," she smiled seductively at the boy. "Queen Medb. Are you one of the wonderful warriors who fought for my sake?"

Lancer, stunned at this sudden apparition, made a fatal mistake and gasped. "Oh, fuck."

Medb, at the mention of such a pleasant word, turned her head back, and her eyes shone. "Cu Chulainn!" she cooed.

Lancer shrieked, then ran away into the night, with the woman in hot pursuit.

Shirou simply sat there, blinking, then asked out loud, "What the hell has just happened?!"

---

The tall, shapely, statuesque woman who had just appeared before Shirou looked down at him.

"I have arrived from the Land of Shadows. I am Scáthach. Shall I call you 'Master'?"

Behind her, still standing at the doorstep of the shed, the man in blue whimpered to himself, all of a sudden.

The woman looked back at him, then smiled under the black mask covering the lower half of her face. "Well, well. What do we have here..."

The man in blue facepalmed. "Well, at least it wasn't Medb...!"

---


The tall, muscular man with no shirt on who had just appeared before Shirou smiled down at him.

"Hey, I'm a Saber-Class Servant, I have been summoned at your request!" he heartily introduced himself. "My name is Fergus mac Róich. Let's see. . . Is Cu Chulainn here?"

Lancer smiled widely. "Fergus...!"

"Cu Chulainn...!" the newcomer laughed, turning around to share an effusive hug and a good deal of shoulder patting with him. "Old son, what are you doing here...!"

"Um, well, you'll see, I was going to kind of kill that runt who just summoned you. But, there's no hurry! Hey, boy! Do you have any liquor in this house of yours?"

Shirou blinked. "Um, well, Dad left some bottles in the cellar, but..."

"Excellent, just excellent!" Saber laughed again. "Let's drink all night long to celebrate this reencounter, then! You're invited as well, Master!"

"Ahhhhhh... Thank you very much for inviting me from my own drink," Shirou meekly said.

What ensued all through the rest of the Grail War was very macho and awesome indeed, but, what do you think this is, a Patreon commission? If you want to see the rest, write it yourself!

---

Somehow, a tall, tanned man with white hair in a red coat and black garments ensemble had just appeared before Shirou, out of seemingly nowhere.

He spoke with a deep, manly voice. "Servant Archer. I answer to your summ-- Oh, hell, not you!" he snarled as soon as he laid eyes on Shirou. "Wait, but then that means..."

He looked back, and saw Lancer standing at the doorstep, spear still ready, but clearly surprised by the unexpected event.

Archer grinned satanically, pulled a black marker out of a pocket in his coat, and began drawing a bullseye on Shirou's shirt, right over his heart.

Shirou frowned. "I don't even know who are you, but I hope you die tonight, too!"

[OverMaster]

Class Warfare.

"Very well," Justeaze nodded at the two men sitting around the table with her. "We have fixed, then, seven class containers, and woe to the fool who tries to add another."

"Seven works just fine," Nagato said, shrugging.

"Seven, yes, a perfectly manageable number," Zolgen agreed. "Now all there is to decide is how to qualify these classes, for the purposes of summoning the Spirits for each, I propose Annihilator, Murderer, Destroyer, Genocider, Backstabber, Tyrant and Necromancer."

Nagato and Justeaze stared blandly at him.

Zolgen rasped. "Orrrrrrr not, since we are in a mission for the betterment of the world through the summon of heroes," he corrected himself. "What would you suggest, then?"

"... I honestly don't know," Justeaze had to admit.

Nagato sighed. "I'm not surprised. You just don't have the romantic imagination for those things, Jus-chan."

"Don't call me Jus-chan. Let me see, let me see... I suppose... Foot Soldier, General, Swordsman, Barbarian, Warlock, Spy and Horseman."

Zolgen frowned, even while pointedly looking aside so she wouldn't notice.

"Booo-ring," Nagato said. "Too generic! I mean, they kind of have to be generic and easy to remember, but they shouldn't be that plain, Jus-chan! How about these ones, they are snappy, concise and firm! Saber, Berserker, Archer, Caster, Lancer, Rider and Assassiner!"

"You mean Assassin," Zolgen corrected him.

Nagato pouted. "But that breaks the theme naming!"

"But it's gramatically correct!" Zolgen snapped. "Darn you and your broken Engrish, you'll never change! Don't you think you should put more effort on foreign languages already?"

"I don't think, I imasine."

Zolgen facepalmed. "Very well, then how about this. Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Berserker and Killer..."

"Assassin will suffice just fine," Justeaze said.

Zolgen bowed his head. "If you think so, then I defer to you on the subject," he respectfully said while Nagato pouted.

---

"-- and that's why I call you Killer!" Zouken firmly told his Servant. "Do you understand now, Killer? That much, I still remember!"

Cursed Arm Hassan tilted his head aside. "Master, the rest of what you expect from me I don't mind, but I didn't graduate from the order of the Killin..."

[OverMaster]

Servants who Nev-- Probably Should be Summoned.

---

Ruler.

"Ach," the newly arrived Heroic Spirit said, slowly walking towards the gathered Servants. "I'm Ruler, and I have been approached by Herr Da Vinci to assist a few of you with, let us say, a few behavioral hangups you might have, for your better performance at the battlefield. Now, I have no doubt most of you will argue there is nothing wrong with your psychological makeup, but as a most impartial observer qualified for the Ruler class, I shall be the judge on that, ja? Now, to begin with our assesment of your situation, I want you to tell me..."

The old, finely suited gentleman took a last puff of his large, thick cigar, and then held it up for the crowds of Chaldea to see clearly.

"Exactly what do you see here, hmmmm?"

[OverMaster]

Sins of Youth.

"So, have you made your mind already, priest?" asked Gilgamesh, smiling in that insidiously harsh way he had going for him.

Kirei nodded. "Quite. I will kill him. However, while I first thought I would appreciate the irony of stabbing him with the dagger he gave me, I would rather savor his agony in a longer drawn way. Which manner of poison would a king advice in his wisdom, if I may ask?"

The Archer chuckled, throwing a small bottle at Kirei. "This is the most drawn out of all agonies, and yet one that makes us yearn for its relief when we reach the bitter end of its road."

"That sounds rather... cruel and torturous," Kirei said, studying the small container in his hand. "I will take it with the utmost gratitude."

"Indeed, it is something that will surprise both you and him greatly. I look forward to the results already..."

---

Kirei walked back into Tokiomi's library, scowling and holding a bawling, kicking dark haired, green eyed brat by a hand. "I must congratulate the King for his sharp sense of ironic humor," he dryly told the laughing Gilgamesh, who was slapping himself on a knee hysterically, "However, this is not quite what I had in mind..."

"I'm going to tell Aoi-chan!" the little boy cried, bopping his fist against Kirei's leg. "You meanie, you did this to me, after all I did for you...! You couldn't even kill me, you had to go and ruin my life...!"

---

"--- and that's why my sister is off limits!" Tokiomi growled on Shirou's face. "Because she's not my sister, she's my DAUGHTER!"

Shirou blinked. "-- well. That wasn't as disturbing as I thought it'd be, thank God..."

[OverMaster]

Parting Ways.

Goetia was a fading memory. The Beasts were defeated. The Crypters had fallen. The Velber had been dealt with. Every Grail now was purified. And that meant the Servants had to go at last.

Fujimaru Ritsuka smiled sadly at them. “Well. I’m sure it must hurt you, as much as it’s hurting me, but…”

Artoria Saber imposed silence upon him with a soft hand gesture. “Master. Before we go, please listen. We have agreed you have the right to know, even if it is a pill most hard and bitter to swallow, perhaps.”

Ritsuka blinked. “What do you mean?”

Berserker Vlad sighed deeply. “Young man, while we admire your courage, and respect your drive… the fact is we don’t like you.”

“Say what?!” Ritsuka cried out.

“Please don’t take it badly,” Caster Blavatsky said. “We are thankful over all you did for us, and I don’t think there is a single one of us who leaves hating you…”

“Well, I do!” Rider Columbus protested.

“Not a single one of us WHO MATTERS!” Helena said. “Regardless, Master, we are Heroic Spirits, the finest mankind has to offer, and Columbus. The strongest and most apt of history, and Mata Hari. And you… well, you are the most generic, featureless and bland mankind has ever offered. It’s not that we dislike you. But there’s literally nothing about you to like or dislike for people like us. It would be like loving or hating the walls of Chaldea.”

“When did I become worse than the serial child killer?!” a livid Columbus pointed at Caster Gilles.

Ritsuka paled. “But… But all those times you fought over me and—“

Kiyohime sympathetically patted his shoulder as Raikou, Serenity and the Tamamos shook their heads quietly to themselves. “Ritsuka-san, we never wanted to hurt your feelings, because even if we don’t feel anything for you, most of us aren’t as bad as to go out of our way to hurt that who was our anchor to the world. But be honest with me, did you really ever think I and them,” she poked a thumb back at the head shakers, “would have NOT killed each other already if we ever had competed seriously for your love? That we, who are far superior to common men in any regard, would have not had our sexual way with your puny self by now, had our passions truly leaned that way?”

“I… I suppose I should have thought that…” Ritsuka admitted, tightening a fist by his side.

Kiyohime lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I still hate lies more than anything, but there is no sacrifice or commitment any of us wouldn’t reach for the sake of human history. That is why we came here, after all.”

“Continue being strong in your own way, Fujimaru Ritsuka,” Saber Artoria advised him, patting him on an arm as they began fading. “For even if we didn’t love you, there is someone somewhere who does. There is one such person for every last one of us. I am going to wait for mine now. Yours already should be there.”

They were gone, and Ritsuka stood there, alone and shivering.

Except because there was someone else, standing behind him. “Don’t hold this against them,” that person asked him. “In the end, they just had to be honest with you, or else they would have truly disrespected you. And so, I guess, now I have to be honest with you, as well.”

Mash Kyrielight held Ritsuka’s hand tightly, and, after a moment of doubt, leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“I really, really like you, Sempai,” she warmly told him.

He smiled at her, in that bland, generic, featureless way she loved just so much.

And they lived happily ever after.

[RoydGolden]

At first this was funny but kind of depressing. Then at the end it became funny and heartwarming. Kudos, OverMaster!

[OverMaster]

Thank you.

---

Love it or Hate it.

"A hate potion?" Medea repeats, vaguely interested. "Yes, of course I can brew one, easily. It wouldn't be the first time I am asked to make one, even if love potions were far more requested. Before I grant you this gift, however, I must know something." And then she asks, already imagining the answer, "Who is it for?"

"For myself, of course," Brynhildr says, and Medea congratulates herself inwardly, over being correct again.

"You are a fool," the Caster bluntly replies, for she has lost the grace of the gods herself, and in that sense she is too much the Lancer's equal as to respect her.

Brynhildr forces a scowl on that normally melancholic or robotic face. "I cannot take it anymore. I cannot endure this any further, and you must know that. Every week, more targets for destruction at my hands arrive. And... it was grave enough when it was only Siegfried, but now Sigurd is with us as well... You must understand, I am too much of a menace under these circumstances. Hating those around me, they will be safe from my spear. That, and death, are the only ways out I can see, but a Valkyrie can never surrender herself willingly to death."

"What makes you believe," Medea coldly asks, "that you will be able to protect mankind anymore, hating everyone around yourself?"

"I will keep on fighting because it is my duty," Lancer seriously answers. "That is all a true warrior needs to keep themselves on the path of combat. My personal feelings should not matter."

Medea shakes her head. "Leave."

"But--"

"I know many a thing about never ending, all consuming hatred," Caster coldly tells her. "It won't make your life any easier. I will only make your existence even more miserable than it is now. Don't delude yourself."

Lancer then simply stands there, staring fixedly at the witch, and finally turns around to leave the workshop.

"I will hate you forever for this," she flatly promises in her way out.

Medea speaks softly as she goes back to her labors. "Then I must be doing something quite right..."

But she doesn't feel any better, either.

[OverMaster]

Shirou Summons...

"Welcome to the Enma Pavilion," the tiny adorable bird girl bowed to Shirou. "I am delighted to meet you, honorable guest-- that is not how it goes, right. Ahem! Servant Saber. The Tongue-Cut Sparrow, Benienma. I have come here to offer my services. Please take care of me from now on!"

Shirou blinked, perplexed. "Whu?"

Saber turned around, and frowned at Lancer. "You... You were going to run Master through with that spear, weren't you?"

"Uh... yes, that's exactly what I was going to do, why shouldn't--"

WHACK!!!!

"Because! That's Not! The way to cook Master Shish-Ke-Bab!"

Lancer died.

---

WHACK!!!!

"You can't possibly cook anything in this unsanitary, worm filled environment!" Saber shouted as she chased Rider, Shinji and Zouken all around the house. "I'm going to have to close this restaurant and then burn it to the ground...!"

"But, this is not a restau--!" Shinji began to protest.

WHACK!!!!

---

"But... if I do that, then you'll teach me how to cook for Souchirou-sama, won't you?" Medea asked hopefully.

Saber nodded with great benevolence.

Medea tossed her hands up. "I forfeit."

Assassin blinked. "Then who do I get to fight? Lancer? He's dead!"

---

Saber smiled. "You're good. The best this War has to offer, as a matter of fact..."

Archer smiled back. "I am honored. Of course, you know only one of us can leave Unlimited Cooking Works alive, don't you--"

"I promise we will have a fitting feast on your honor, Archer-sama," Saber promised respectfully, bowing her head.

They charged at each other under the ketchup red sky, utensils ready.

WHACK!!!!

---

Illya stared down at the delicious looking dish. "And you say," she dubiously repeated, "this is guaranteed to endow one with a longer, healthy lifespan?"

Nod nod, Saber went.

Illya sighed. "I forfeit..."

"----------------!" Berserker said.

---

"Feh," Gilgamesh sneered, golden utensils scattered all around him and Saber, in the aftermath of their battle. "I suppose I have to concede, Bird. For even though I own all the cooking implements known to man, this King has not been trained in the menial ways of curry making. However!" he grandly promised, pointing a sweeping finger at her. "I shall have my revenge, Saber! Next time we cross paths, I will have mastered your arts like only a King of the Kitchen can...!"

Saber nodded humbly. "And I shall be waiting for you in hell, Gilgamesh-san."

---

The Grail oozed black. The Grail overflowed with malice and perdition. The all consuming Grail...

"No, no, this won't do! These contents are completely unfit for human consumption, what were they thinking?!" Saber said, grabbing the Cup and angrily flushing it down the drain.

"They never taught me how to cook...!" Angra Mainyu wailed as he plummeted down into that final darkness.

---

"-- so you can see, Professor," Rin finished explaining as Shirou looked just uncomfortable and Saber happily whistled to herself. "It's not that we're Lolicons, it's just that we're true conoisseurs in a course of learning that is even higher and steeper than magecraft, not that it will interfere with our other duties..."

Waver Velvet frowned. "... very well. We will give you the room by the kitchen, then."

---

Kotomine Kirei died from eating too much delicious mapo tofu. All things, with moderation...

[OverMaster]

Chaldea Summons...

"Oh no. Oh hell no," Ritsuka paled as the new summon stretched up into a standing position, grinning from white ear to white ear and pulling on his colorful bowtie.

"So..." the Servant said. "Show me where do you have your Batman."

"We... We don't have any!" Ritsuka quickly blurted out.

The Servant immediately lost his red smile.

---

"Him? Oh, don't worry over him," Ritsuka said as he and Goldorf passed by the door where the pale Servant sat, staring hauntedly at the walls, all but comatose and making no sounds at all. "He doesn't ever do anything, he just can't work if there's not a certain other Servant around. It's better this way, believe me..."

"Then," Goldorf asked, pointing towards where Avenger Frank Miller Batman, Archer Tim Burton Batman, Rider Adam West Batman, Assassin Zack Snyder Batman and Alter Ego Bruce Wayne were arguing with the Artorias, "haven't you ever told him you've summoned all of those ever since?"

"We are still standing, aren't we?"

[OverMaster]

Zeus visits Chaldea.

Everyone gets fucked, but Fionn. Even Fou.

Everyone is acknowledged as a child out of wedlock, but Iskandar. Divinity taken away.

Heartwarming fishing trip with Heracles.

Goes to drink with Merlin, they give two penises to everyone. But Fionn.

Is told he needs a human host body to stay, chooses Taiga's grandfather. Everyone is either too weirded out or scared to ask.

Lancer dies.

After beating Kintoki in a lightning competition, gets cocky, starts shouting around challenges to Thor all day long, annoys everyone. Eventually they manage to summon the closest available thing, and Beatrice kicks Zeus' ass somehow.

Beatrice doesn't get fucked either. Even Zeus respects the Don't Stick your Dick into Crazy rule to some degree.

Mephistopheles steals and eats his pretzels, is chained to a rock where a giant eagle will devour his liver forever until Gudao sighs, sends Heracles to take him down already.

[OverMaster]

The Nature of Hatred.

"Wow, then you really hate mankind," Mephistopheles cooed, fascinated. "I honestly thought it would be a facade, like the black Saint's..."

"I feel I must stress," Consort Yu icily told him, "I don't hate humans as life forms so much, only their culture..."

"Ohhhhh, but culture is what makes humans what they are," the Caster chuckled, softly. "Without it, they would be only another species of ape. Without it, the Master as we know him wouldn't exist. And neither would I! Oh woe, what would everyone ever do without me?!"

Yu stared sharply at him. "If you're done with this ridiculous questioning already, I take my leave--"

"No, no, please, before you leave, let us put this hatred to a test, please?" he begged, putting his hands together. Hastily, he drew a large red button on a white sheet of paper, and put it on the table between them. "Let us imagine this is a button to erase everything humans have ever achieved as a culture, all of their dreams and goals, all but us Heroic Spirits and the Maste. All it would take is one push from you. Would you do it, were you given the chance? Would you do it, for the chance of deleting such abominable mistakes, leaving only their sole few achievements behind?"

She frowned. "That is beyond stupid, what kind of--"

"Would youuuuuuuu, Yuuuuuuuuu?" he sing-sang.

The Assassin frowned, turned the sheet around as if mildly suspecting to see some sort of impossible doomsday mechanism rigged underneath, and then merely, with an air of annoyance, pressed the tip of her pointer finger on the button's drawing. Only to get him to shut up already and save face.

It was not like this was going to actually do anything anyway.

Caster grinned and nodded very quickly. "See, see, see now, Master? I promised you would see something very interesting!"

Yu's eyes widened, and she swung her head aside to see a somewhat sad looking Ritsuka step out from behind a curtain. "Ah..." she began to say.

"I suppose I have," Ritsuka blandly told Caster. "With your permission, then, I think I have things to do elsewhere..."

And he left without another word or gesture, Mephistopheles happily skipping behind him.

Yu lowered her head, and stayed there, sitting in silence.

[OverMaster]

Assassin and Assassin Go to the Movies!

Cursed Arm Hassan began to laugh as the alien burst from Kane's chest.

Kojiro frowned. "Okay. Next time, we are watching a samurai drama."

[OverMaster]

Stories from Grandpa Zouken.

"-- and that's the last I ever saw of the bastard," the old man sneered. "They may call me evil, they may call me twisted, but at the very least, I never allied myself with the Nazis! Fuck you, Darnic, wherever you are!"

"-- I see..." Medusa quietly said.

---

Sakura blinked. "You mean you're torn between what and what?!"

Rider kept her hands on her own head, struggling with despair. "Between building a shrine to Hitler or not! I know it's horrible, Sakura, please, just don't ask--!"

[OverMaster]

Political Correction.

"So we come to present you with this," EMIYA said, placing the documents on the desk Ritsuka didn't even know he had until minutes ago, when he'd been called into the office he didn't even know he had before this. "We have been discussing this matter among ourselves quite seriously, and reached the conclusion 'Servants' is a demeaning, classist, objetifying way to call us. Through these files we now would like you to sign as our Master-- by the way, now you will not be our Master either, that's just as bad, you'll be our Coordinator and Manager-- you will grant us the civil right to be called 'Assistant Legendary Spirits'."

Ritsuka blinked, then shrugged. "Okay!"

EMIYA soon walked out of the office with every already signed document. "I have good news and bad news," he told the huge crowd of Servants waiting outside. "The good news are-- the Coordinator has designated us as Assistant Legendary Spirits!" he triumphantly proclaimed, holding the documents up.

The whole crowd exploded into cheers and hoorays. "A huge step for the Legendary Spirits rights!" Xuanzang beamed.

"The bad news are," EMIYA added, more grimly, "he did it without a fight."

The crowd instantly fell into a collective depressed sigh.

"Awwwwww...!"

Standing by the sidelines watching on, Goldorf blinked exaggeratedly, then turned to Mash and Da Vinci. "Hey! Now why did they react that way?! Shouldn't that make them happy?!"

Mash sighed. "They became legendary because of their uphill, hardly fought achievements, Director," she said. "If it's an easy victory, they'll never be happy with it..."

[OverMaster]

Taking Notes.

"So pleased to meet you. I'm Ryuk." The hideous spirit grinned widely, extending a long arm ahead, and holding a dark notebook. "This," he explained, "is a Death Note. My Death Note. And now it can be yours. For a time. Whenever you write a name down on its pages, the person bearing that name will die. No matter what. The way you want them to die. What do you have to say? You are interested. Aren't you?"

Shirou.

After a moment of wide eyed horror, he shook his head firmly. "No," he said. "Are you insane?! I'd never do anything like that!"

Ryuk pulled the notebook back to himself, chuckling affably. "If that's your wish. You won't mind if I stay around for a time, will you?"

Shirou blinked. "Huh?"

"Well, you are obviously a hospitable enough young fellow, I am a spirit and you are no exorcist so you couldn't throw me out even if you wanted to, I won't be a bother, and you wouldn't want me outside offering this Death Note to God knows who else, would you?"

Shirou sighed.

Ryuk fulfilled his promises and never bothered Shirou. For he was patient if nothing else. And finally, when Shirou's skin was already starting to darken, and his hair to bleach down, like Ryuk had predicted, he finally walked to him and asked for the Note.

And Ryuk won.

Ryuunosuke.

He eagerly took the notebook with a wide, feverish grin, and looked at it fervently...

... right before, with a single powerful toss, throwing it into the fire of the bodies he'd been burning.

"Of course not!" he replied, highly offended. "Like hell, man! I'm a craftsman! What's the point on doing it this way, that's super lame...!"

Ryuk winced as he vanished away. But, 'Ryuu and Ryuk' had sounded so promising, and with such a nice ring to it...!

Kiritsugu.

Helplessly, horrified, he watched the whole city burn before him.

The black shapeless mass of Angra Mainyu appeared by his side, and slapped him across the head. "Good job, YOU MORON...! I had wanted to do that myself, damn you...!"

Mysterious Heroine X.

"I have no regrets whatsoever," she peacefully said as she faded out along the rest of Jeannes, Neros, Mordreds and Artorias.

"Actually, you forgot me!" Okita pointed out.

"Damn it!" X said, and tried to reach for the book, but she didn't have arms or hands anymore.

Celenike.

She kicked the cold body off the main seat of the august meeting table, and sat down, crossing her shapely legs on the wooden surface. The woman tossed her hair back and relaxed, sporting the widest smile she ever had sported in her whole life.

"Ahhhh... I always wanted to know, how would this feel...!"

All across Clock Tower, the silence of the dead everywhere was her sole answer.

[OverMaster]

Trump Card.

"It's hopeless!" Kadoc despaired, pacing back and forth across the room. "They have defeated Ophelia, Hinako, and I, despite all the odds being against them! I'm not sure this can be done anymore, I--!"

"Relax, Kadoc," Kirschtaria smiled, only vaguely disdainful towards his failure of an ally. "I have taken care of that already. I sent four specialists to deal with them, taking the fight directly to them."

Kadoc blinked. "What kind of Heroic Spirits...?"

"Not Servants," Kirschtaria said. "As you said, their forces can overcome any other Servant thrown their way. So I had to think out of the box and resort to specialists on dealing with

Spirits

..."

Kadoc blinked again. "I... I don't get it."

Someone rang at the door. "Oh, those must be them," Kirschtaria smiled placidly. "Please come in, Doctor Venkman, Doctor Spengler, Doctor... ah, well, just get in, will you?" Then he told Kadoc in a low voice, "Mundane names, one can never remember them, right? They're so absurd and complicated..."

Kadoc only nodded dumbly as he saw four men enter, one Afroamerican, the other three Caucasian. All of them carried big, bulky packs and strange futuristic cannon guns attached to their backs. The one who looked like Billy Murray in the eighties walked up to Kirschtaria and extended some sort of rectangular metal trap attached to a long cord, which rattled and shook violently, as if possessed. "Here, all of them, including Hercules and the golden guys! They gave us a bit of a fight, but, eh..." he shrugged.

Kadoc looked in a bewildered way at Kirschtaria, who just smirked and shrugged. "Who else was I gonna call?"