Fate/Reclamation (IC)

[Kirby]

Saber of 『　』
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

The boy exits the room, and I nod to myself sagely. Good, good. Let’s try this again.

I look about the room again, getting a better bearing for my surroundings. Some sort of living space. I look out the window to a disappointingly overcast sky. I sigh, and close the blinds. Guess it’ll be better if it’s darker. In the meantime, I notice something weird and sticky on my feet. Blood.

I sniff in distaste. This probably won’t do. Uncouth, unsightly, and most of all, uncomfortable. And weird smelling. Yes, something in this house smells kind of weird, but I pay it no mind. Luckily, there are some sheets of cloth on the table over there, and I take one to wipe the blood off my feet.

Ah. Come to think of it, I’ve tracked blood all over the house, haven’t I?

No matter. I will concern myself with that later…

For the time being…

I step back into the center of the circle, and take a deep breath. This all comes down to timing.

As if into thin air, I disappear.

“Alright!” I yell back. “You can come back in now!”

I giggle to myself. I can't contain my excitement. He’s going to be so surprised, and awestruck, and impressed, and everything, it’s gonna be great!

[Reiu]

Arwyn Cadfael Penrith
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

With some relief, Arwyn re-enters his home, and pauses.

The girl was nowhere to be seen.

He blinks. Was his vision somehow affected by blood loss? He supposed he did feel somewhat lightheaded. But no, no matter how hard many times he rubbed his eyes or opened and closed them or pinched himself, he did not see her anywhere in sight. The room was darkened, as well, with the curtains pulled shut.

...Oh. Was that why she asked him to step out?

---At last, everything clicked in Arwyn's mind.


So this is hide-and-seek.


Arwyn steps forward, head tilting as he looked this way and that for any sign of the girl in flowing robes.

Briefly, a sinking feeling sets in as he remembers what was now in the study.
But surely she would have had voiced some manner of reaction if she had found………


…In any case, from what he could tell hearing her voice, she was likely still in the living room.

He was proving an inept detective, though, as the futility of his search was becoming increasingly apparent.

Brow furrowed with a puzzled expression, he at last discards his initial hypothesis and turns his back to the living room and summoning circle. It was a fairly spacious apartment by urban London standards, but there really couldn't be that many places to conceal oneself.

She must be hiding in another room, clearly.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

　

[Spinach]

Alexandra Chimeragenos
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Surprise did not show upon the Master's face, though it was certainly felt. The noble magus was not intentionally stoic, her face had simply come to a state of stillness due to her lack of necessity for social niceties and pleasantries as facial expressions. Even in this moment, faced with a girl who stood a great distance from the image of a Heroic Spirit, where above Alexandra should tower one of the most famous monsters to have ever lived. An existence that should shake the stone foundation of her workshop merely by being was substituted with a small girl, one with features that shone with undeniable beauty.

"Declare, O magus. Are you my Master?"

The Servant that had arrived looked more like an angel descended from above as she posed her question to the magus, rather than the beast Chimeragenos had expected. That she had wanted.

"Yes." Answered the dull-eyed giantess.

The possibility remained that this Servant could still be the one. What the Chimeragenos had kept preserved in that tank for more than 2,000 years was not always the Queen of Magical Beasts.

Once, it was a goddess.

"I, Alexandra Chimeragenos von Marchosias, am the Master that summoned you here."

And in comparison to the figure of the white-clad, chained magus, the Servant standing in the dark chamber, where three streams of blue light cast by torches that burnt with a cold flame converged, fit all too well the mantle of goddess.

[Katie]

Erika Kanzaki
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Excitable. My Servant is very, very excitable. Yet, her hands are cold, devoid of the warmth her personality emits. Even as I put the thankfully unharmed watch back on my wrist, the clasp making a soft click, I can’t help but wonder who I’ve summoned. A Caster with modern trappings… In a way, it’s a much more positive reflection of the summoner than I would have liked. But there’s very little to judge unless she tells me who she is, and there’s no real rush, I think. We have an hour or two before it really does become a pressing matter, because I get the impression she’s scatterbrained enough to forget to introduce-introduce herself, even if she is a Heroic Spirit.

“Well, I guess you don’t look the part, but I can’t really see you as anything else.” That’s true. Really, looking at her, by process of elimination, the only thing that makes sense is Caster. It’s just something intrinsic in her demeanor that makes me understand she isn’t a Knight Class Servant, and of the Cavalry Classes she does not fit the mold for Rider, and definitely not Assassin. “And, honestly, maybe I was projecting a bit.”

As for her curiosity about the house, I grimace. The place is barebones as it can be considering Natsuki and I have lived in it for three years. The only things colorful are our rooms. It’s a bit dull, but… I guess it can’t be helped.

“Alright, I’ll give you the house tour. It isn’t much, though.” Before I move or anything, I guess it’s important to explain the purpose of this room in particular. “Here is just a room my roommate and I use for rituals. You’re free to do as you please with it, we can always repurpose another of the empty rooms or something.”

“Speaking of my roommate…” Hesitantly, I unlock and open the door, wondering what kind of peeved Natsuki I’ll be greeted with. And, of course, the impression she’ll make on Caster. Though, maybe they’re similar enough…

“Finally, you’re done, can I see can I—” Natsuki freezes before she cranes her poor neck upwards to look at Caster. I knew the height differential between my Servant and I was quite bad, but being able to both see her and Natsuki at the same time really does put it into perspective about how much worse it could be. “Wow.”

Amazement turns into curiosity in Natsuki’s eyes as Sawamura glares at the intruder from his perch on her shoulder.

“Can I, like, touch her?” Already Natsuki’s hands look like they’re about to pounce, and I can’t help but feel afraid for Caster, who will be the victim of some unfortunate crime of negligence if I let Natsuki have her way.

“Does she look like one of your animals?” I reply, exasperated. Really, is that the first thing that comes out of her mouth? “Anyway, Caster here wants to look around the house, so… Mind telling your fluffballs to stay calm?”

“Oh, shoot, right! Be right back!” And with that, she dashes out of the hallway, a sudden menagerie of her pets following in her wake. Too many to count, honestly.

I sigh. This place is such a mess. From the middle of the hallway I point to each of the rooms I describe.

“That leads to the living room which is connected to the kitchen, that room over there is mine, that one with the pink wallpaper belongs to that girl, Natsuki, that’s the bathroom, and the rest are unused. The fairies end up being all over the place, you get used to it.”

I pause. Is there something I’m missing from this brief explanation?

“I assume you’re fairly familiar with all these concepts, though. When were you born, Caster?” I guess this is a way to get what I want without needing to directly ask.

[Leftovers]

Berserker of Blue
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

"I, Alexandra Chimeragenos von Marchosias, am the Master that summoned you here."

Though spoken in an even tone that fit the solemn visage of the white-clad woman, the proclamation that sealed the contract seemed to echo far into the heights of the grand chamber and return to her ears with redoubled intensity as though it were the voice of a god impressing upon mortals the gravity of his words. The glow of the command spells on her Master's hand subsided in response to the finalisation of the summoning and Berserker immediately felt the link of magical energy between them running in a steady stream - her anchor, and the chains that bound her to this world - and smiled in satisfaction.

But more than that, the Servant looked at the Master who towered over her with a gleam of wonder in her eye.

"Surely this meeting must be fated, and you are well met indeed, Master."

Bringing a hand over her heart, she inclined her head in a bow of deference towards her summoner. She, too, must have a wish; one of such magnitude that the Grail itself had acknowledged. Its resonance had drawn her to this world from the time beyond time - a miracle in itself - and though she did not yet know what it might be, Alexandra Chimeragenos von Marchosias had entrusted it to her all the same.

She wondered if there was some of the Holy Grail's influence in her own determination, but it was no matter. She would carry out her role as a Servant and honour that wish as she would her own.

"I am Berserker, the spirit of raging madness." Although I may not look the part, she almost added, but this was not the time for playful levity.

"To you who holds the chains that command me I will deliver victory."

[Zagrin]

???
The Throne
Timeless

In the depths of the void, upon a Throne, he sleeps. Yet for him there are no dreams, no nightmares, only a silent, immutable emptiness. Such has been his existence since he had arrived in this place, and such it would continue to be till the ends of time.

However...a light, a voice, stirs him from his slumber.

This was not the first time that he had been awoken, indeed it would be safe to say that perhaps of all the beings imprisoned in this place he was one of those who had most often been sent to the world on the other side.

Thus he had to ask, was it time once again for him to act? No, it couldn't be, it had not been that long since he had been last called to fulfill his oath. Perhaps he was needed for another reason then? No, that could not be it either, for the one calling him now was different from all those other times.

Furthermore the arrogance of this one was grating, even more so than the others. It spoke of the being serving it, a request he was now far too familiar with, but not only that, in exchange the voice said that he would receive a reward. A wish, one which could fulfill his deepest desires...

The being could not help but chuckle at what was being offered to try to entice him to serve another once more.

Foolishness, such foolishness.

No work of man or god could hope to grant him what he desired, and he cared little for that which existed in the world of the living to have any wish to travel there on his own accord. Thus as this did not relate to his sworn duties, he had no obligation to answer.

But as he began to return back to that dreamless sleep of his, the light that beckoned him started to shine even more brightly than before and something about it seemed to take on a familiar hue to the being. It still did not resemble the calls that had been issued to him time and time again over the ages, but rather now it reminded him of something else, something that he had once held dear...

Could it be...?

There was no reason that he had to ask, he already knew the answer to his question. It was impossible, after all, and yet he still could not help but view the light now with a renewed interest. Where before he had been disinterested, he was now posed with questions he had never thought to ask since his arrival here, questions that he now needed to be answered by whomever was on the other side...

Very well, I shall answer your call.

And may God have mercy on your soul, He who disturbs the King's slumber, for should he find your answers lacking, he will not.

Rider
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

As the ritual concluded, a cold chill seemed the enter the catacomb and somehow, even within the confines of this place, the wind seemed to pick up, steadily beginning to howl as if to announce His arrival. An unnatural entrance for an unnatural being. However where he was, was not immediately clear as the summoning circle remained empty.

Rather it was the darkness of the tomb from which he strode, smoothly entering into the world as if it was as natural as breathing to him. With each step his armor made a clinking noise, signalling his approach to the one that had summoned him. Finally, he stopped as he came before the summoning circle.

He was a man covered head to toe in pitch-black armor, leaving little to no openings except for one. A piece of his helmet had been seemingly damaged, leaving a part of the right side of his face open and clear to see. There one could make out tufts of white hair as well as an eye the color of blood. However rather than looking at the one who had summoned him, he was staring intently at what lay in the middle of the summoning circle. As he analyzed it, his eye narrowed in irritation before eventually shifting its gaze towards the one who had summoned him.

"Where did you get this?"

With that question, bloodlust began to permeate the air, though it did not seem as though it directly came from the armored figure himself. It was as though there was something else there, patiently waiting for the signal that would allow it to slake its hunger on the meat that now was so close at hand. It was clear what fate awaited that summoner in the event that he chose his next words poorly.

"What is it that you desire to risk such a pitiful death?"

[canaki]

Archer of Blue
15th of December, 2004
East London - Apartment 5009
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

"I am your Master, Archer, but I am not your superior. The name is Michael Blackmore."

Archer’s upper body jolted up from his kneeling bow, only for his slightly surprised face to follow his master’s downward shift in position. His eyes flickered to the hand extended. A warrior’s hand.

"Servant Archer. If you would fight for my wish, then I'll fight for yours."

“You are too kind, my master. I did have a good feeling about your call, and I appreciate how you chose to summon me in a tidy, comfortable environment -- your abode, I assume? -- rather than, say, a dark dusty workshop full of bubbling cauldrons.”

As he grasped his master’s hand with his bony one, a wider smile returned.
He continued speaking with a quiet delight seeping through his tone, the slight hoarseness melting away from his voice.

“If you say you are not my superior, let me consider you as a equal knight, then. Why, if you had been in my time, with your build, you would have fit right in with my fellow comrades! I can almost see you getting along splendidly with--”

He abruptly stopped mid-sentence with a pained look on his face, and shook his head.

“-- excuse me, there were more important topics we must discuss.
As I said, I did have some inkling of your motivation to call for a servant, but I must understand your wish properly, lest I misjudge and unknowingly sabotage you. Unless you plainly desire the grail as I do?
Meanwhile, what I wish upon the grail should be embarrassingly clear, once I properly introduce myself.”

Releasing Michael’s hand, Archer stood up, and a sword materialized into his empty hand.

“I believe this may be recognizable? I daresay it may be better known than myself. My true name is ----, and, ah, you seem to recognize my name, I do hope I haven’t disappointed you too much. You must also undoubtedly familiar with what I am known best for. My wish is to ----”

[Sunny]

Caster of Blue
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“Well, I guess you don’t look the part, but I can’t really see you as anything else. And, honestly, maybe I was projecting a bit.”

"Ahaha... It's fine, it's fine. Don't we all, Erika?" Caster asked, cheerfully, following her to the door of the ritual room with her arms folded against the small of her back. She leaned forward as she walked, bringing the two a bit closer to a comfortable neutral eye-level. "I've done that more times than I care to count. No matter how neutrally I try to view something, I always leave too much of myself in every thought and impression. It's a bit of a devil to catch, ahaha."

She nodded as Erika explained the purpose of the ritual room. It was small, but serviceable. The girl already had ideas, in fact.

Let's see, if I run that along the left wall, about five feet above...
Ah, I'll need to find a better way to hang those. How about there?
Ah, no, that was load-bearing... Ahaha...

"Wow."
“Can I, like, touch her?”

“Does she look like one of your animals?”
“Anyway, Caster here wants to look around the house, so… Mind telling your fluffballs to stay calm?”

“Oh, shoot, right! Be right back!”

Looking down at her Master's roommate, Caster blinked several times in rapid succession. The tall girl had to angle her body downwards to meet Natsuki at eye level, her arms still folded behind her back. "Ooh, I see. You must be--"

Before they could talk at length, Erika interjected and mentioned the so-called 'fluffballs.' Caster let out a disappointed puff of air as Natsuki ran down the hall with her fairies in tow, her lens darting between the creatures, tracking the stampede and its members. "Aww. Maybe later!" Caster called out as Natsuki ran down the hall with her fairies in tow. "Huh, that was more of them than I expected..."

She blinked. One of the creatures had lagged behind the others, waddling after its companions. Caster smiled, dropping to a crouch, her arms crossed over her legs. "Hi there," she greeted it softly. The fairy slowed down, tilting its head to the side, its nose twitching as it looked intently at Caster. The girl tilted her own head in sync with the fairy, her gaze warm and steady. "Fell behind the rest, hm? It's okay, you'll catch up. But hey, you're the first one I get to meet up close..."

It was an interesting sight after the restlessness she'd been overflowing with. She seemed distracted, delighted even, at rest in a way she hadn't been when she crouched before. The girl was calm and still, and the fairy approached tentatively, sniffing the stranger and relaxing into a bright, chipper inspection as it ran around her, looking at her from all angles.

Caster giggled softly, sitting in place for awhile, only reaching out a gloved hand as it did its sixth loop around her. "Here, now... It's alright..." Walking around her hand, the creature slowed to a stop, drew close, eagerly --

Ah. Sorry.

And then, as if startled, jumped backwards. Its little eyes blinked quickly and it hopped again. Caster's outstretched hand hung there a moment, then closed slowly. A momentary pause, her hand still extended. Caster watched as the fairy shook its head, turning and running backwards to find Natsuki and the rest of the menagerie.

A small sigh. The girl turned her head back to Erika, grinning and springing back to her feet, hopping and dusting herself off. "Well. Again, maybe later. They look so cuddly - I'm quite curious what they are."

“That leads to the living room which is connected to the kitchen, that room over there is mine, that one with the pink wallpaper belongs to that girl, Natsuki, that’s the bathroom, and the rest are unused. The fairies end up being all over the place, you get used to it.”

“I assume you’re fairly familiar with all these concepts, though. When were you born, Caster?”

"Ohhhh, fairies..." Caster murmured softly. She listened to the tour, such as it was. It obviously ended faster than Caster had expected, based on her expression and how she initially waited for Erika to continue after she finished with this hallway. She said nothing, though. Not continuing was itself an answer, after all.

I suppose to ask for my own floor would have been too unrealistic - for now.
Still, it shouldn't be hard to get a good signal here...

She coughed into her palm, nodding. "More or less, yes!" It wasn't something worth hiding, not really. Given her dress, she couldn't exactly claim to be from anything other than the last few centuries. Her eyes looked away from Erika for a moment, before turning her blue and white gaze back to her Master. "I'm a Heroic Spirit of the nineteenth century, Master. Though I don't enjoy giving out the date of my birth, ahaha."

A pause, and for the first time, her eyes narrowed a bit. Her voice was still warm, but took on a stern tone perhaps not entirely unfamiliar for her Master. "Especially if it's not the question that's actually on your mind."

[Katie]

Erika Kanzaki
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Watching the fairies reject Caster was somewhat unexpected, to say the least. They’re almost absurdly friendly with everyone, so the fact they decided to shy away from her means there must be something about her they fundamentally dislike. Not that I would know, of course, and Natsuki, despite being my housemate for three years, has never told me the full explanation as to what they are. Fairy is only accurate because that is what they used to be, though now they are some hybrid existence of both western fae and eastern youkai.

"Especially if it's not the question that's actually on your mind."

“Sorry. Dealing with Clock Tower officials has made me realize most magi don’t like being asked directly.” After all, direct explanation is antithetical to the preservation of mystery. Though, it’s obvious my Caster isn’t like other magi in the slightest, so maybe such caution was wasted. Regardless… “That, and I didn’t want to spoil the mood by talking about business.”

Business. The identity of a Servant. Who they are and their capabilities. While it’s too early to make any judgments, of course, I can only imagine the kind of looks I would get from my fellow Association Masters… Not that it matters. You work with what you get, and surely anyone who qualifies as a Heroic Spirit has something magnificent to behold.

I hear Natsuki rant at something in the distance. Though the nature of her contract with her familiars prevents her from being too demanding except under dire circumstances, this is getting a bit silly.

But, I should say the question that is on my mind, since my Servant has called me out on it. I might as well get it out of the way now, rather than try to find a way to get back to it in the future.
“Who are you, Caster?”

[Kirby]

Saber of 『　』
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

I watch him, as he looks about the room, wearing an expression of something akin to confusion. Scrutinizing the circle, apparently giving up looking there, just about to turn away—

Alrighty then. Take two.

At that moment, at the turn of his back—

A torrent of wind and power that expands, a vortex in the center of the circle. A blinding light, within which stands the figure of the girl. The wind settles. The light softens into a brilliant blue glow. She descends, one foot over the others, as if from flight.

“From this time forth. My blade shall serve beside you, and thy fate shall rest upon my blade.

Thus is my answer. Our contract is complete.”

A gentle smile.

“⸻I ask of you. Are you my Master?”

—Like a scene out of a fairy tale.

[Sunny]

Caster of Blue
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“Sorry. Dealing with Clock Tower officials has made me realize most magi don’t like being asked directly.” After all, direct explanation is antithetical to the preservation of mystery. Though, it’s obvious my Caster isn’t like other magi in the slightest, so maybe such caution was wasted. Regardless… “That, and I didn’t want to spoil the mood by talking about business.”

Caster held the narrowed eyes for another moment, or two, or three. Then it was replaced by her previously warm gaze, nodding to herself. "That's better! It's okay, it's okay. Forgive me if I was rude, but well... I am," she admitted with a giggle, grinning impishly, stepping forward and taking Erika's hands in her own, shaking them up and down.

"It's just that I've never liked to select something indirect where being direct would be much more effective for our mutual understanding. Especially between partners! I don't like to think of things as a business project. Collaboration has a happier ring to it, don't you think?"

She let go, planting her hands on her hips, and nodded firmly. Everything she'd just said was certainly antithetical to the values of a typical magus, but...

"And well, as for the Clock Tower..." Caster mumbled, her eyes looking to the hallway wall. She held her breath and puffed her right cheek with a lengthy, sustained and grumpy noise. Yes, she definitely didn't give the impression of a typical magus. Or an adult, for that matter. "My family weren't on the best terms there. Though I've never been there myself, I've been nearby often enough."

“Who are you, Caster?”

"Ah, that's more like it!" The girl was brought out of her... well, pouting by Erika's next question. She clapped her hands together, enthusiastically. "If you hadn't been curious, I don't know what I would have done."

Caster glanced down the hall at the distant noise of Erika's roommate. The girl held a finger to her lip, thinking. She seemed to be considering the best way to break the news to her summoner. Her lips moved rapidly, wordlessly, as she nibbled the fingertip against her bottom lip. Finally, Caster stopped, and nodded to herself. "Alright. If you'd really like to know, then..."

The girl stepped forward again, and this time she leaned down and moved close, tilting her head as if to whisper it up close. Rather than that, however, she instead held a finger to Erika's ear, her hand pantomiming the shape of a small gun. The small surge of prana was too quick to react to, by the time it registered.

For a moment, the world flashed, not with light but with static. A momentary flicker in perception, a skipped frame that already passed to the next. Caster's hand had already been pulled away. The girl had already stepped back, her hands clasped together at her waist, eyes averted. In the gap between those frames, she'd left behind the answer to Erika's question, and to at least one more sure to follow.

Who she was.
What she had just done.
...And a small apology for the kind of magus she had summoned.

"...Ahaha," she laughed again, but it was a bit sheepish, this time.

[zikari8]

Mori Shiori
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

The light receded and Shiori’s vision returned to her, along with the rest of her senses.

Sensory information flooded her all at once. Smell, sound, heat, pain, exhaustion, elation. Her mind was immediately hit with the return of such feelings once her trance wore off. Yet, her conscience refused to act upon any of them. Instead, all of her attention was focused on the spectacle unfolding before her eyes.

A curtain of smoke clouded her view, but through it the shrine maiden could make out a large silhouette. As the cloud dissipated, she came to realize that the shape behind the mist was not a Brobdingnagian figure but a large chair. The decadent throne parted the fog, so lavish and opulent that its splendor was matched only by the presence of the eye-catching woman sitting on it.

Her entire appearance gave the impression of royalty, from her rich scarlet hair to her elegant clothing. Simply by sitting in a room, her presence was such that one’s gaze was automatically drawn to her. With the smoke gone, their eyes met. It was like staring into space, infinitely deep yet far from empty. As cold as her visage seemed, the more one looked, the more one was drawn in by the bright elegance within.

Shiori was not impressed. It’s not as if the woman’s entrance wasn’t impressive, far from it. It was simply that the woman’s bombastic entry mattered little to her. In her view, the successful summoning was just another checkbox filled out on her to-do list. But even that was worth celebrating. Although the flashy pyrotechnics didn’t woo her, a sense of elation nevertheless grew in the magus’s heart.

Perhaps that was why she had difficulty finding the words to say. Speechless, she watched the woman with a bird’s focus until the stalemate was suddenly broken by a sigh. With a wave of her hand, the woman conjured a long spike of some sort, emanating dense magical energy. There was no doubt about it; she was a genuine heroic spirit.

The woman approached. Leaving her lofty throne, she dragged the strange staff along with her and closed the distance. She did not dash or run, her pace was the speed of the invincible, self-assured and relaxed.

At that moment, Shiori hadn’t really been thinking. Perhaps expecting the Servant to greet her, she stood without any plan to move in the near future, like a deer caught in headlights. Her well-trained senses confirmed that there wasn’t any hostility coming from the Heroic Spirit, so she felt confident in facing her as she approached. It wasn’t that Shiori was off-guard; there was simply nothing for her to guard against.

Finally, the two were face-to-face and –

The woman’s spear mercilessly pierced Shiori’s chest.

It was not an attack too fast for the eyes to see. On the contrary, Shiori saw it coming completely. Rather, it was because she was so focused on seeing the attack that her body wasn’t able to keep up. And the result was thus.

The weapon twisted in her body. With it, her entire world distorted as well. Intense sensations came over her, dulling her other senses of perception. As if her heart had suddenly been replaced by a slab of hot metal, her entire body down to the tips of her fingernails was burning.

“Ah… ah…”

She tried to speak. Tried to say something. But before she could muster a word, blood welled up in her throat. Her voice became a clotted gurgle, panicked and violent. Through bloodshot eyes, she could see her assailant’s lips moving, but her ears could not make out what over the beat of her dying heart.

Her body dropped to the ground. Whatever part of the spirit kept one upright had long since been shattered.

Feeling vanished entirely. The pain, the shock, the anguish, suddenly stopped registering. Her surroundings faded away, as if she were alone in the world. Even the stone floor she fell on felt distant.

And then it began.

Before Shiori could properly come to terms with her death, an external voice touched her ears.

First it was one. Then two. Then five more. And then ten, and a hundred, and soon a thousand.

The voices began to shout. Like flies, they swarmed her brain, leaving no spot untouched, no sensation unoccupied. Each one scrambled to talk over the others, raising in volume and pace. Although the warehouse was silent, her mind was ablaze with noise.

Yes, they were not real voices ringing at her ears. Her feeble brain simply lacked the capacity to perceive them as anything but voices. In reality, they were no more than knowledge. Raw knowledge of matters she never had heard before.

Every voice spoke at once, lecturing her in an ever-increasing pace. In time, she could no longer differentiate between the voices. All she could feel was the rhythm of the words, the tempo of knowledge flooding her brain. Her heart raced as if it to keep up. Like a metronome, its beat led the orchestra of voices.

Dun dun dun dun.
Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun.
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Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun.}
Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun.
Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun.Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun.
Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun.
Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun. Dun dun dun dun.}

Crack

Something broke. Something important was crushed.

The music stopped and the world vanished.

---

Mori Shiori
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2) [1 Minute Later]

A minute passed.

Shiori continued to remain lifeless on the floor. Her body did not move an inch. Not a single sound came from her, not a single breath drawn in.

And then, suddenly, a raspy cough came from her corpse. With each breath, her body moved slightly. Slowly, but surely, her body was coming back to life.

Without any hurry, like a tired, sleeping man with the sun rising through the unhindered window, her dull magenta eyes opened. Her expression was blank, as if she was taking her sweet time sorting out what had happened.

"I have made the choice not to waste your time. I would prefer you would return that favor if possible..."

The woman said, upon seeing Shiori come back to life.

Still dazed, she took a moment to register the statement, before a smirk broke out on her pale face.

“Oh?”

She staggered to her feet, pushing herself up with her knees. Yet, once she stood up, it was evident that something had changed about her. She casually positioned herself to face the Servant, but her posture was different. She stood upright with her chin up, her feet placed perfectly at shoulder length. And as she looked back into the Heroic Spirit’s eyes, her hand raised to her mouth… and she laughed.

“Ohohohoho~ do not waste your time? How awfully pretentious of a familiar.”

A smug smirk was plastered over her face. Her once vanishing presence now boomed across the room.

“That is rather humorous, Servant. I did not know that the Throne of Heroes had such comedians. Perhaps your class is Jester?”

She stretched out her hand, as she spoke with a haughty voice. Despite her laughter, it was clear she was anything but amused. Her dirtied clothes sharply contrasted her new attitude.

“Since you asked so kindly, let me introduce myself, hero.”

Her outstretched hands returned to her side before pulling at her skirt as her knees bended. With flawless posture, she curtsied as she introduced herself.

“I am Mori Shiori.”

Her voice boomed to emphasize the final part.

“Your Master.”

[Kuroyuki]

Akechi Tohsaka
15th of December, 2004
Himitsu to Hanazono “Akechi’s Apartment Complex”
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

After Darling hung up the phone, I felt relieved and worried. Relieved that he wouldn't be heading home and seeing me do this. However, I was worried about the fact that he was heading out on another mission. It wasn't unusual for him to be sent on missions one after another. Enforcers were worked to the bone until they were unable to take another request or they got out. z

However, the timing was still... weird. Could the Clock Tower be mobilizing their enforcers against us already? I presumed they wouldn't utilize their full forces against a small group of "rebels" and instead only notify their master candidates. Until I can prove that the enforcers aren't involved, I should recommend that the White Team take increased vigilance against potential additional forces. C

Fifteen minutes to optimal time for summoning. Do a quick check of everything required again. Circle drawn. Gems ready to power the contract. Catalyst on top of the circle. Notes ready. Everything is ready. Now to wait patiently. At the perfect time, I felt a scalpel cut precisely into my nerves. J

"Anfang."





Lass Silber und Stahl die Essenz sein. 8
Lassen Sie Stein und der Erzherzog der Verträge die Grundlage sein. E
Lass Weiß die Farbe sein, der ich Tribut zolle! K
Lass eine Mauer gegen den Wind aufgehen, der fallen wird.
Lass die vier Kardinaltore schließen. P

Füllen

Geschlosse

.

Füllen

Geschlosse

.

Füllen

Geschlosse

.

Füllen

Geschlosse

.

Füllen

Geschlosse

.

Lasse die dreispurige Straße von der Krone, die das Königreich erreicht, zirkulieren. B

Hiermit erkläre ich.
Dein Wesen soll unter mir dienen,
und mein Schicksal wird auf deinem Schwert ruhen.

Wenn Sie sich diesem Willen und Gesetz unterwerfen und dem Heiligtum des Heiligen Gral gehorchen, dann antworten Sie mir.
Ich gebe hiermit meinen Eid ab.
Ich werde alle Tugenden des Himmels erlangen;
Ich werde über alle Übel der Hölle herrschen.

Aus dem siebten Himmel,
um drei große Worte der Macht,
komme aus dem Gegenring,
Beschützer des heiligen Gleichgewichts!"

[Katie]

Erika Kanzaki
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“I’ll try to be straight to the point from now on,” I say as Caster moves uncomfortably close to my ear—

[||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||]

My head rings with the surge of information. Like the moment when someone finally finds a great solution, only magnified tenfold, where sudden clarity is ruined by the fact every cell in your brain is screeching about the sudden intrusion. I shake my head a bit, as if physical movement would clear the burden on my mind. It could have been a lot worse. Condensing information and symbols is important for quick spellcasting, and were it not for my training in that area…

Well, maybe it’d be worse than a brief headache.

Effectively, Caster just gave me her biography, how she performed the spell, and an apology all in one. And a reason as to why it was done. Remarkably convenient, at least, but at the same time rather disorienting…

Though, now that I know who my Servant is… It seems I’ve summoned a screw-up of a magus equal to myself. I am thoroughly impressed at the Grail’s decision making process. Or, I guess, its ability to read my intent from the watch. Regardless of Caster’s actual capabilities, fundamentally we’re not too different.

We both have that desire to understand.

Speaking of her point, though… Wasn’t there a way to ensure private communication between Master and Servant? Something like—

Hello? Can you hear me, Caster? Will this suffice?

That.

[Sunny]

Caster of Blue
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Hello? Can you hear me, Caster? Will this suffice?

...Yes, I can. Sorry about that, Erika.

If nothing else, Caster did sound contrite, hands still tightly clasped together. Her eyes were still averted, though the white point of her goggle lens surreptitiously flicked back to Erika. She exhaled a deep breath, a bit surprised, realizing for the first time she'd been holding it while she waited for Erika's reaction. It had been a nearly blind invocation, after all. Hardly unusual if she wasn't satisfied with the result of her roll of chance, compatibility or not.

There was a lot to explain, so I thought it would save us both time if you just... knew that already.

Certainly it would have taken quite awhile for Caster to explain everything she had just given directly to Erika. Just in terms of efficiency, it was among her favorite spells. She had saved at least an hour of time, even considering their ability to talk in this way.

An hour of exposition about Caster's level of mystery.
An hour of explaining the particulars of Caster's craft.
An hour of elaborating on who she actually was.

A bit of tension left her shoulders when Erika continued to refer to her the same way. After all, most importantly, it would also have meant an hour of wondering what Erika's reaction to her would be.

She clapped once, energy and life returning to her thin frame as she nodded firmly. "Ahaha... Yes, it will definitely suffice."

[Bloble]

Michael Blackmore
15th of December, 2004
East London - Apartment 5009
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

"That's-!"

Michael's breath nearly caught in his throat.

He recognized it instantly. The sword in Archer's hand was ever-so-subtly different than the one Michael had interacted with all those years ago, but it couldn't be mistaken for any other. Had the years changed its appearance, or was the one he'd seen merely an imitation?

Archer's name, too, was one Michael couldn't fail to recognize.

Him? That person, standing there, in a shabby apartment, laughing and smiling?

The thought was difficult to accept. A part of Michael almost refused to believe such a thing could happen. Yet he couldn't deny what his eyes and ears were telling him.

"That's a beautiful wish. Not embarrassing in the slightest. As for mine, well..."

He couldn't say it out loud. Somehow, Michael felt as if giving voice to his desire would corrupt it. He was sure that if Chimeragenos or even Animusphere could hear him, they'd put him to death for such a waste of a miracle. Not that he minded. It wasn't as if he was a proper magus.

So instead, Michael tested out the mental link that should have been established between him and Archer, by sending out the words he'd been unable to vocalize.

"You must have many questions. This Grail War is certainly not a conventional one, at least according to the information I was given. Suddenly appearing in a strange era must be confusing as well, so ask and I'll answer as best I-."

A sharp rapping against the balcony window shattered the delicate atmosphere in an instant. Michael blinked, glanced outside, and turned pale.

Standing on the windowsill was a very angry pigeon.

"Oh no."

In an instant Michael turned and started rummaging through a broom closet. He reached up and plucked a heavy canvas bag off the top shelf. He tucked it beneath his arm as if it weighed nothing, rather than the double digit kilograms it contained. Then he sidled over to the fridge and took a plastic bowl of purple and green grapes out of it.

"Sorry, Archer," he said, setting aside the overblown politeness he'd carefully adhered to. "The birds need to be fed. I'll explain on the way up. You don't mind heights, do you?"

[canaki]

Archer of Blue
15th of December, 2004
East London - Apartment 5009
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

While Michael dashed off to his broom closet, Archer was drawn to the window by the pigeon’s judging glare.
Crouching down as he dismissed his sword, he greeted the angry bird.

“Hello there, did my arrival take my master away from an appointment with you?”
“Coo, croop crooroo!”
“My apologies, I am quite certain he didn’t mean to keep you waiting that long. The blame is entirely mine.”
“Chirr chirroo coo?”
“I will not take away from your share of food, I solemnly promise you this. In fact...”

Archer glanced at Michael, coming back with a bowl in his hand and a bag under his arm.

“... see, he is on his way with your meal. I believe we will be joining you shortly.”

With a final nod to the pigeon, he stood up.

"You don't mind heights, do you?"

“Of course not, master. I am overjoyed to meet your flock of feathery companions.”

[Reiu]

Arwyn Cadfael Penrith
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Started by the sudden gust, Arwyn turns, only to be knocked off his feet by the strong gales of wind as he does so.


The blinding light. The otherworldly blue glow. The floating descent.

—Her smile.


……Ah,
so this was what it was like,
to behold the divine⸻

"⸻I ask of you. Are you my Master?"

From silent wonder, Arwyn was pulled back by her words, her question.


"I am your……"


He hesitates. He hadn't thought about it until now, but…

…What should he be to this "Servant" he summoned?

Not master to servant, nor wielder to weapon.
As two individuals, aiding each other, knowing each other…what was the word for that…?


"…P-partner?"


The word slips from his mouth softly, unbidden, before he hurriedly corrects his mistake. "Ah, no, that would be much too presumptuous of me. Please...forget what I just said."

He was glad the room was dark. Hopefully it hid his embarrassed expression.

…Someone like him wasn't fit to be anything like that for anyone, anyhow—much less to someone like the girl who stood before him.

Someone who had done what he…

"……"

He returns her gentle smile, with a tinge of sadness.


"⸻I am your ally.
My name is Arwyn. You may call me whatever you wish.
……I suppose that includes 'Master,' but…please don't feel any obligation to do so; there is no need."



And then, as he stands back up——the world spins, and blacks out.

[Bloble]

Michael Blackmore
15th of December, 2004
East London - The Roof of a Certain Apartment Building
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

The climb up normally served as exercise for Michael. The elevator didn't have roof access, so he jogged several stories up and down the staircase every day. Today it was decidedly more tense, if only because Michael was still unsure about how to treat Archer.

Should the Heroic Spirit be referred to as a hero? A respected superior? A fellow Enforcer? Or perhaps the right thing to do was quash the uncomfortable feeling that arose in his throat whenever Archer referred to him as 'Master', and embrace the role.

No, he decided. That just wouldn't do at all. Michael would handle this new partner the same way he handled all the others: with good cheer and good intent.

The roof was the standard brick and mortar affair, with a wide flat surface covered in leaves, feathers, droppings, and, at the moment, several dozen pigeons milling about, pecking at the floor in search of food. When Michael nudged open the door they turned their wide eyes on him and almost immediately made a beeline for their owner and primary source of food. It was only Michael's hastily-muttered command word that spared him from being swarmed by his own familiars. He trudged towards one end of the roof - after bidding Archer to come with - where a pair of folding chairs and an ice cooler had been propped up against a heating vent facing the rest of London. The birds followed.

Michael unfolded both chairs and took one for himself.

"Hello, Lord Chimeragenos," he said to the small stone gargoyle that was perched on the edge of the roof. It turned to face him, its face a dour mask. A white splatter had clipped one of its ears. "Um, I don't know if you're listening, but - my summoning went well. I hope yours did too. There's a bird bath on the second floor, third balcony from the right, if you'd like to wash that off. I'll, uh, prepare a suitable enclosure later."

Its stone stare did not shift. In that respect it certainly resembled its owner. But the gargoyle, after directing its ruby eyes towards Archer for but a moment, eventually deigned to descend and wash itself. With it gone, the rest of the pigeons once more began to cluster around the pair. This time, Michael obliged them.

He opened the top of the sack and withdrew a fistful of bird seed, which he scattered about in one practiced motion. The birds got to work instantly, pecking away and cooing softly as the sun slowly sank towards the horizon. In a few hours it would be evening and then night. A time of shadowy cloaks and shining daggers.

"This is our battlefield." Michael said suddenly. From their position, most of London took up the view. Beyond the building was a sea of concrete, glass, and steel. "Seven Masters and seven Servants are there, hidden among the populace, waiting to strike. They may be honorable or despicable, but they certainly won't hold anything back. We will not be so indiscriminate. My duty includes the protection of England and her Majesty's people. A handicap, to be sure, but one I'll happily accept."

A marked change had come over Michael Blackmore. A subtle shift in his body language and manner of speaking that signified his change from a gentle giant to a reluctant yet hardened warrior.

"What do you think, Archer? How would you approach this War?"

[Katie]

Erika Kanzaki
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

It’s unusual, I think, from how little I’ve known her. The way she just looked at me right now, the tracest hints of apprehension in her face. Like someone seeking validation or judgment. An expression I surely must have put on many times, but one someone like her, it just doesn’t fit. I’d rather not see it all.

Because I am not qualified to judge. Regardless of the fact the Master theoretically is above the Servant, I have no reason or right to complain about how she lived or conducts herself. Wishing that I had summoned something else is both a waste of time and not something I actually feel in the slightest. After all, lacking proper precaution and preparation, I summoned regardless, so if anyone should be at fault, it should be me.

“Well, I’ll try to refrain from discussing more discreet topics in voice until everything is done from now on.” I pause, wondering when we’ll have to do work. Sure, chatting around is nice, but a Caster needs her workshop, doesn’t she? In that case, we should…

It’s then that Natsuki comes running into the hallway, panting and her hair much more disheveled. Sawamura runs circles around her feet. Is she really a Zoology student? I figure they’d have an easier time ordering their familiars around…

“Everything’s all good! I moved them to the lawn and now they’re just… doing stuff.” Natsuki abruptly dusts off her clothes, before giving Caster an excited wave. “You’re who? I’m Natsuki, Erika’s roommate! All the familiars in this house are mine and…”

Natsuki pauses in her tracks, jittering back and forth, probably because she doesn’t know what to say either. Sawamura casually follows the frantic pattern of his owner. Suddenly, she straightens up, like she’s struck by lightning, and her fluffball rolls over to match.

“Wait, Erika, did you show her all the modern stuff around the house? Like, the telly, or your laptop, or…” She trails off to list a whole bunch of useless things. But, I guess that’s a fair thing to show Caster. She definitely would be interested in that sort of thing.

We eventually end up in the living room, which has… a window that shows the fairies frolicking in the front yard, our beaten couch, my laptop next to some old notes I had strewn about on a small coffee table, and, of course, the TV set up. The VHS player has… something in it.

“You watch stuff on that, and…” She grabs the remote and casually flicks it on. It’s a BBC documentary about seals in the Arctic. “That happens.”

I shrug. Might as well let Caster poke at everything.