The Grail Works Mission Dossier (Discussion & Ideas)

[Arbitrarity]

Hmm... yeah, sorry. I'll fix it later when I'm not half asleep from a couple days worth of nearly no sleep. (Insert massive swearing here.) One. Single hour last night. Ugh.

As for Ruby, I'll fix that, and a couple other things, when I'm not working on fixing my fridge and freezer.

Ooof, summer is not the time for that. I've been running on 7-8 hours for fairly dumb reasons, but 1 usually just incapacitates me.

Herakles is definitely going the smart route here. The Legend he's been absorbing has been upping his stats around the board, and he's been taking hefty advantage of that here, as well as using it to fix some of his more... debilitating issues.

Yeah, and being able to actually shoot is scary. Archer Herc is reportedly strongest Herc.

As for black holes, it's a void in space sucking reality into it. It might not necessarily be one YET, but it's well on it's way to acting like one, if far smaller in scope, thus Ruby calling it one. Or it could easily be that it's the form that the corrections to history takes, and Legend's keeping it from going active. What with Singularities collapsing the way they do in game, yet you're able to visit them later...

In her defense, if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, are you going to call it a duck until you know if it's something posing as a duck? The answer is "Yes. Yes you are.". The math does make sense, though. I'm mostly using it as "That's what Ruby is understanding of the situation. She's never been in a singularity mid-collapse though, so she could have it completely wrong and not realize it, considering they're in the middle of SOMETHING wonky going on, however."

Nice angry physics rant noises, though!

Hence why I said "Pruning Theoretical Phenomenon" among my options for explanations. I will agree that it does behave a lot like your typical fictional depiction of a black hole, so it's an obvious guess at identification, and there's some temporal distortion effects going on. I just hate almost every fictional depiction of black holes, because they usually involve either impossible mass shifts (thing suddenly pulls harder because it's a black hole) or severe underestimation of force (anything that happens on a planet). Technically I guess you could make a absolutely miniscule black hole of whatever mass you want it to be, but then you have to still explain why it hasn't fallen to the center of the earth, tunnelling through everything around it, so pretty much any way you slice it, there has to be some supernatural explanation somewhere.

On my end, I've got a fridge with no cold air in it, a freezer with lots of ice in it, and me swearing as well.

But after that refrigerator is fixed, and the chapter's fixed, I'll put up the next chapter snippet. Sound good? Yes, it's done, and I've got a bit into the next chapter after that, as well. Erik also has a couple new tricks up his sleeve after Anarchy, though I'm not going to reveal where he gets those, yet.

Neat. Do be sure to get some sleep though, going without is pretty painful.

I've been trying to balance out Herakles as both the crazy strong guy he is in Fate (and if you don't believe me? Watch both fights between him and Saber in UBW as well as Saber Alter vs Berserker out of Heaven's Feel.) with how he is sane, and kinda rational here. For a given value of "rational" at least...

Oh, I am fully aware. Also God Hand almost always gets sold as weaker than written, in one way or another. "Immunity to being killed in the same way" is pretty crazy, so we usually see that effect skipped (i.e. against Saber Alter in HF). It's explicitly justified against Gilgamesh, but in other cases, we get a handwave of "does so much damage that it consumes multiple lives before the immunity kicks in" or that property is just ignored. I do wonder if that "stock of resurrections" works as a shadow servant, though. Alcides from Strange Fake doesn't have it, though that apparently has something to do with his circumstances. It seems... relevant here, though. Admittedly, giving this Herc King's Order would make things significantly more difficult.

I've also been trying to write this, without tapping into the choices coming up for the readers, coming up in my next chapter of Fate Anarchy. Because rather than develop upgrades for Erik, that would make him stupidly strong, I'm leaving it up to the readers for Erik and Mordred alike. Which would directly influence abilities that could be used in this story here, if Erik were stronger.

Since Erik is weakened here, I suppose you can say that he wouldn't have those available, fair.

[Kieran]

Writer's Notes: Following the game's plot, for now, this is what we get . . .








Koyo Town, Japan
July 28, 1997








He’d failed her . . . For all his plans, all his attempts at preparation, all his power—when it truly mattered, he’d failed her . . .

In the world of Exalted, the mortal Chosen of the Gods had overthrown the Gods’ forebears as intended, but that victory had not come without cost. The Primordials had not gone quietly, and levied a Great Curse upon their slayers; nothing so simple as death, but a subtle, invidious influence that would leverage their the stresses of their mortal hearts, and twist the very source of their greatest strengths.

. . . And she was hardly the first, was she . . .? Just the youngest, the most innocent—the one who needed you the worst, of all those you’ve encountered . . .

In the game’s mechanics, the phenomenon was known as “Limit Break”—when accumulated emotional or mental (or in some cases, magical) stressors finally built to the point that the Exalt self-destructed, as per the dictates of the Great Curse; though the actual effects of it varied amongst the differing types of Exalt.

The noble Solars descended into dissolute, hollow mockeries of their former selves, until the other Exalts enacted the Usurpation that ended the glories of the First Age. The far-seeing, manipulative Sidereals became less likely to succeed, the more of them that were involved in accomplishing a specific task or plan—a terrible fate for a cabal of destiny-weavers designed to work in concert.

And the Lunars . . . They became slaves to their baser impulses. Not in the same sense that the Solars were—who became tyrants, hedonists and degenerates on a scale that would have made the worst of Rome feel scandalised; treacherous, cruel and mad—but bestial creatures, driven by overwhelming instinct.

For the most valorous of Lunars, it meant descending into a mindless, killing rage; that, or a cold contempt for others that drove them to scorn offers of or pleas for aid. The most temperate of them would either be forced into extreme asceticism, or wild abandon, with their prized self-control thrown to the winds. Those driven by their convictions became heartless zealots willing to burn anything and everything in their pursuit of “right,” or forgot them entirely in a wash of sheer self-centredness. And for those who chose compassion as their guiding principle, they either became mother hens, doting on all (regardless of the wishes of those being cared for, or the cost to themselves) to the extreme, or whipped dogs that obeyed authority without question, and avoided conflict by any means possible.

The Lunar known as Rin Tsuchimi was not, strictly speaking, a true Exalt. While his Exaltation was patterned after the game’s, it was not one of the three hundred created in its lore; he had fought no Primordials, nor been stricken by the Great Curse.

If you’re this useless even as an Exalt, then WHAT IS EVEN THE POINT OF YOU . . . ?!

But his Exaltation had been made in their mould, and he had been touched, however peripherally and fleetingly, by Dark Powers in the past. Nor was he without issues of his own—and such things, when bound to a human consciousness, could wreak as much damage as any chthonic curse.

. . . What’s the point of anything . . .?








Kaede would be the first to admit that she didn’t really understand Rin, despite all the time she’d spent with him—but seeing him now, she understood a little . . .

And she really didn’t want to.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He didn’t sleep much, and had nightmares when he did. He didn’t eat, unless someone made him. He was still breathing, but she was sure, with a sick feeling in her stomach, that it was only because he couldn’t actually stop himself from doing it.

Kaede had done the same, once. So she understood, now—this was why Rin had lied to her, about her mother. Because even if she hated him (she had), even if she hurt him (she did), it was still better than this.

Anything was better than this . . .

And for a moment, even though she missed them too, she hated those girls for doing this to him—then she stopped, and remembered what her father and her therapist had said. It wasn’t their fault, either—and knowing them, they missed him, too—but Rin was still hurting because they were gone.

She had to do something; he had, for her. But she had no idea what. She couldn’t lie, like he had—it wasn’t like she had the power to close the Gates herself . . . Could she fake Aka-chan and Aoi-chan’s handwriting, and make up letters . . .?

. . . Not both of them, Kaede decided. One of them, maybe—and she knew the God better than the Devil—but two different handwriting sets? He’d know, if only because she’d have to steal his scrapbook to study them.

Kaede paused. Making him angry by doing that might snap him out of it . . . But he was a lot stronger and faster than she was—he’d probably have the book back before she could do anything, and she’d wind up hurt for nothing.

(Her therapist would probably argue that she shouldn’t be planning to hurt herself in order to help Rin, but at that moment, she didn’t care.)

Out of ideas, and tired, she finally just collapsed down next to him, leaning against him and hugging him.

“Rin-kun,” she whimpered, “please don’t leave me, too . . .”









May 30, 2001








If there was any constant to his admittedly-malleable nature (and seemingly ever-changing identity), it was this: he possessed a fatal weakness to crying girls, and especially the tears of little girls. Kaede managed to snap him out of his depressive spiral—at least, to a point—and life continued on.

Was he okay with Lycoris’ loss? Not a chance, but at this time and place, there was nothing he could do about it, save planning for future opportunities. There would be a reckoning—that much he was committed to. Whether that would amount to leaking the full details of Project YGGDRASIL across all three worlds, thus letting them deal with public reactions to creating children solely for the purpose of being experimental subjects (and the fact that each successive failure had only convinced them to double down), or the outright slaughter of every individual involved as a warning to the next ten generations that certain lines should not be crossed, he wasn’t certain yet. But this was going to stop, one way or another.

. . . And yes, he was aware that the second option would include Sia and Nerine’s fathers, but if the plot proceeded as usual (meaning their attempting to ingratiate themselves and their daughters to him), it would just make it easier for neither of them to see it coming. They were powerful, and dangerous, if Nerine was anything to go by—she’d been selected as Lycoris’ base template because she had “power that rivalled the King of the Devils,” after all—but who said he had to be direct? Lunars were shapeshifters, after all . . .

Regardless, it was a mostly-back-to-normal, if quietly furious, Rin Tsuchimi who lived out the next few years, marking time until the key events he expected began (or didn’t, he supposed—if the Gate stayed sealed, he’d be denied his retribution, but at least the arrogant idiots involved were only likely to blow themselves up). And it largely proceeded in an expected routine: school, training, hanging out with Kaede—and later, a girl named “Sakura Yae,” who bore a startling resemblance (at least, at their current age), to another Sakura he knew, circa-Fourth Holy Grail War . . . And hadn’t that had been the cause of more than one sleepless night, and several binges of research?

Ultimately, Rin had concluded, she wasn’t likely to be Sakura Matou’s analogue—or if she was, it was a case of the “Law of Conservation of Reality”: there was only so much creativity in the universe, making it inevitable that repeating ideas would be used, but not necessarily important. In “fictional” realities, where people were also characters, this applied to individuals, as well—hence, a lot of “easter eggs” in series (like a certain skirt-flipping menace of a boy who apparently appeared in both the original Shuffle! and Episode 2, with no apparent changes).

The whole panic did have him keeping an eye out for other TYPE-MOON expys, though; while Sakura Tohsaka’s being here, as a concept, was hardly the worst thing, certain others, even in a (relatively) peaceful and harmless world like this, were definite dangers.

. . . Kaede was just at the age where she was Ryuunosuke Uryu’s type, after all; like hell Rin would let that happen, and he was barely a nuisance, comparatively!

Random bouts of paranoia and murderous anger aside, however, things proceeded to go more or less like any normal student’s life in a wholly-mundane 21st-century Japan—though there were exceptions . . .








“Today is your day of reckoning, Rin Tsuchimi!”

For his part, Rin stared in outright disbelief at the gathered assemblage of the self-proclaimed “KKK (not the guys with the sheets).” Though not for the reason that most rational people might assume . . .

I thought that the wiki said these idiots were unique to the anime . . . And they’re three years too early!

Whether the acronym stood for “Kitto Kitto Kaede-chan” or the “Knights of the Kissy Kaede” (not the best translation, but they’d done what they could without destroying the joke entirely), the existence of Kaede Fuyou’s rabid fan club was generally comic relief. Composed of primarily middle-aged men pretending to be high school students (at least, those who had speaking roles), they showed up to chase Rin around on a semi-daily basis, threatening bodily harm for his closeness to their “princess,” “goddess,” or whatever title took the place of “masturbation fantasy” in their heads.

(And it only got worse when the SSS and RRR—Sia and Nerine’s fan clubs, respectively—showed up . . .)

They were meant as a parody of real-life fan clubs of the characters, he’d read—or maybe just fan clubs in general. And it wasn’t as though he couldn’t comprehend it; as a fan himself of various series, characters and ships, the concept was hardly alien to him. At the end of the day, however, he believed that to be a fan of someone was to support their decisions and relationships, even if you happened to dislike or be jealous of them—as long as they weren’t something outright illegal or immoral, at least.

Admiring Kaede, he got; she was growing into a very pretty young lady—and yes, a good cook and homemaker—while being generally sweet-natured and demure, as he understood the ideal Japanese wife was considered to be. Wanting to be her boyfriend made perfect sense, and being jealous of the fact that they lived together, and assuming their apparent closeness was why she’d turned down any attempt at dating were understandable. It was totally wrong in actual fact—at least, on his side of things (he’d avoided actually asking Kaede thus far, lest he give her the wrong impression)—but a reasonable mistake to make.

Deciding that you had the right to dictate her life for her, and resorting to violence to enforce that decision, on the other hand . . .? Yeah, no—that was never going to fly; and that was without getting into the fact that a lot of these guys looked to be more than two or three times Kaede’s age . . .

. . . Was that hypocritical of him, given that he was mentally pushing fifty?

Maybe, he admitted to himself—but he’d done his best to avoid dating anyone for just that reason, no matter what his teenaged body’s hormones wanted him to do. If and when the main plot started up, things might have to change, but it was otherwise hard to consider someone he remembered as a little girl—and who was literally young enough to be his daughter in any case (a status that also applied to a number of their teachers)—as a romantic interest.

And that was without even getting into his past history and self-esteem issues . . .

Twelve in front, six to each side, and they managed to come around from behind, as well—I should have been paying more attention, damn it . . .

For a brief moment, he considered trying to talk his way through; he’d been trying to work on his socially-oriented Charms, since he was supposed to be a harem protagonist (even if he wasn’t actually good-looking, pleasant or passive enough for the job). The girls in Shuffle! were remarkably forgiving, after all, but if he was going to get them to listen to him when it was important, he had to have some ability to hold their attention besides a narrative drive that didn’t actually exist, for him . . . On the other hand, these idiots had been persistent enough in the anime to show up three times—and he was already ticked off.

Decision made, Rin simply said, “Kaede?”

The redhead’s face nearly matched her hair in colouring as she yelped, “Yes?”

“Go on ahead, would you please?”

“Rin-kun—” she started protesting.

“Someone needs to tell the school that I may be a bit late,” he interrupted her, as gently as he could. “And even if I am, there’s no reason that you should be.”

Besides, your psyche’s scarred enough without seeing what’s about to happen.

“. . .” She stared at him searchingly for a moment, before bowing in acquiescence. “All right, Rin-kun—if you’re sure.”

Her tone implied that she wanted to believe him, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Don’t worry, Kaede—I’ll be fine,” he told her, trying to smile reassuringly. “And take my bag with you, please?”

“. . . Okay,” she said at last, before suiting her actions to her words, and not quite running off with the extra briefcase in hand.

He watched her go, for a moment. So did more than one of the mob—and their eyes were set a lot lower than her hair.

“Not going to run like a coward, Tsuchimi?” the spokesman sneered, shifting the nail-studded bat in his grip threateningly.


Relentless Lunar Fury, Wasp’s Sting Blur . . .

Rin shifted his own stance accordingly, subtly stretching muscles and tendons in preparation, with the ease of long practice.

Essence Overwhelming: Strength, Dexterity, Stamina . . .

By way of answer, he said flatly “You don’t need to worry, either—I promise I’ll try very hard not to kill you.”








April 7, 2002









The outcome of the fight was not what Rin had expected.

Oh, he’d won it, handily enough—even setting aside his skills and abilities, they’d done more damage to themselves than he had. Really, what idiot thought that picking up a melee weapon and then bunching up with a horde of similarly-armed guys to the point where all of them were within arm’s reach of one another, before swinging with wild abandon, was going to end well? True, he’d made a deliberate effort to ensure that several of them would likely never have children—or pee standing up—without medical assistance, but he hadn’t been nearly as devastating as a guy who could bench-press two hundred and fifty kilograms before resorting to supernatural enhancements could be.

No, the problem lay in the social fallout of the fight.

He was already considered too blunt and indecorous, to a lot of degrees—something which was blamed on past head trauma and amnesia, even if it had more to do with his being a middle-aged Canadian in a Japanese schoolboy’s life. It made socialising with his “peers” hard, even without the inherent disconnect between his age and theirs. Now, to be fair, the school administration hadn’t done much to chastise him, even if they had the right, even by his own reckoning. His actions didn’t necessarily reflect well on the school, but the police had agreed that he’d acted in self-defence, and he was an excellent student, academically and athletically—sure, he resorted to Lunar Charms to pull that off, but that was what they were for—so the reprimand was minor, compared to what they could have done.

The student body, on the other hand, had not reacted well to learning that he was apparently willing and capable of hospitalising two dozen men with his bare hands, regardless of the actual facts—not that the high school rumour mill cared overly much about those . . .

It made working on his socialising skills and Charms very difficult, since no one was really willing to. And even that, he could’ve lived with, except that trying to make sure Kaede’s social life didn’t suffer by proxy was something of an effort to achieve—she needed more friends than just him, after all, or she’d be right back where the game started her.

Most annoyingly, it meant that Asa Shigure did not want anything to do with him; tomboyish she might be, but apparently associating with a “violent thug” like him was a step too far. It meant that keeping Kaede and Sakura in the cooking club that Asa headed came at the cost of keeping himself scarce; and that he had zero opportunities to get to know her or her mother, much less to the kind of depth that he’d need to, later. Being able to explicably know their history, much less pass it on to the Kings in a believably “innocent” fashion, depended on it—as did Asa’s life—after all . . .

Junior high passed with no clear solutions, and all too soon, high school began. Sakura didn’t end up attending (going to an all-girls school, instead), which left Kaede and he on their own—but that same fact meant that it was a chance to reinvent his reputation, with a wider pool of people. After all, in addition to being the setting of the game, Verbena National Academy was the prototype school for mixed attendance—meaning human, God, and Devil students, as well as those few hybrids that were of age (as apparently, random crossings had occurred prior to the Gate’s official opening). There were lots of people, therefore, who’d have no idea who he was; and he still had two years before the game’s plot properly started.

Rin tugged at the collar of his school uniform, which had been carefully tailored to conceal his muscles. He wasn’t built like a power-lifter, but he did look a lot more sculpted than the average high school freshman, and didn’t want to look out of place for it—or worse, intimidating. Kaede, bless her heart, had done a fantastic job of altering the uniform . . .

Even if she had way too much fun with that tape measure, he added wryly to himself. My inseam did not need to be calculated that closely, did it?

Although, maybe “fun” was the wrong word—she’d been nearly as red as he was, by the end of it . . .

Rin shook his head. It didn’t matter—the work got done, and now he was properly attired to give himself a better shot at a clean slate.

He could do this.








April 10, 2002








From the rooftop of the school, Rin glared at the sky.

The whole “fan club” thing was set up in order to keep me sticking to the canon friendships, wasn’t it . . .?

Heaven knew, if given the choice, he wouldn’t have made friends with the perverted academic genius and “lover of beauty,” Itsuki Midoriba—but as a general social outcast who was limited to, say, those classmates seated around him . . .? He kind of had to take what he could get. After nearly a full week of having Itsuki attempt to seize Kaede in a bear hug as a way of saying “good morning,” however, Rin was seriously considering a repeat performance of his earlier stunt. Thus far, he’d managed to deflect or intercept all of those—but considering that Itsuki showed no signs of letting up . . .

Just how important was Itsuki to the plot, again . . .? And more importantly, can I actually shove him off this roof and make it look like an accident?

The half-Devil Mayumi Thyme was more tolerable, for all that she was a bit hyper and lazy, as well as a gossip. She wasn’t mean-spirited, for one, had a genuine interest in photojournalism, and acted as a check on Itsuki’s more outlandish behaviour. At the very least, she was swift to punish him if she caught him, in a way that Rin would’ve liked to do, but apparently only a “childhood friend” could get away with.

He’d have been willing to tolerate Mayumi just because she was openly friendly to Kaede—for that, though, he’d offered to tutor the girl in English and world history when she’d complained about homework; both subjects he knew fairly well. Of course, that had led to Itsuki’s boast of an average grade of 92.8%, and Kaede’s well-meaning statement of “nearly as good as Rin-kun’s” . . .

Itsuki had taken the “challenge” about as well as expected, and now he was nursing a headache—because now, even if he didn’t want Itsuki as a friend, he had a rival.

By the time the urge to shove somebody off the roof had passed (himself or Itsuki, it didn't matter), lunch was over, and they were back to class. Rin was counting the minutes, today—the school clubs were in recruitment mode, and Verbena had an alchemy club. He really wanted to check it out; the potential of what he might be able to do with it was too tempting to pass up—and as a homunculus, Primula had been made by it, so who knew what he might learn to help her?

As the final bell rang, and he moved to inform Kaede of his intentions, he caught part of her conversation with Mayumi. Specifically, she was complaining about her bust compared to Kaede’s, with genuine annoyance in her tone—which struck him as odd, since he remembered her being particularly prideful about the “rarity” of her figure in the series.

Seeking to reassure her to that effect, he decided to try out that Charm again; concentrating, Rin said, as warmly as he could, “I wouldn’t worry about it, Mayumi-san.”

Essence Overwhelming: Charisma . . .

“Eh?” Mayumi blinked her heterochromatic eyes—red and blue, the only sign of her heritage—her head snapping around to look at him.

“You’re still young enough to have a growth spurt, if you’re really concerned,” he said, “but you’ve got more than enough good points that you don’t need enormous breasts to catch a guy’s attention. You’ve got bewitchingly exotic eyes, a genuinely wicked wit”—he’d laughed harder watching her snipe at Itsuki over the last week than he had all year—“and legs that go on for days, as they say.”

He smiled. “Trust me—if you can learn to work a little sway into your hips as you walk, the boys will hate to see you go, but they will love to watch you leave.”

“Uh,” Mayumi said, red-faced. “. . . Um – thank you . . .?”

She didn’t sound entirely certain about that, and he inwardly grimaced at the Charm’s failure. Sure, the “Overwhelming” series increased his general range of ability with something, rather than ensuring success, but he thought he’d at least have the basics down by now . . .!

“You’re welcome,” he said, as warmly as he could, and turned to Kaede. “I’m wanted to check out the Alchemy Club before heading home, Kaede—did you need me for anything . . .?”

“No!” Kaede blurted, then flushed in embarrassment. “Um, no, that’s fine—you have fun, and I’ll see you at home.”

“All right,” he acknowledged. “See you at home—and see you tomorrow, Mayumi-san.”








Mayumi stared after her classmate, then looked at Kaede.

“Is he always like that . . .?”

“Sometimes,” Kaede said with a sigh. “It’s very sweet, if embarrassing.”

“. . . And you’re not dating him, right?”

Mayumi was proud of the fact that her voice stayed almost completely even, given that her face had to match Kaede’s for redness as she said it and the other girl heard it.

“Not for lack of trying . . .” came the answering sigh.








Rin stepped through the door to the Alchemy Club, and nearly had a heart attack.

“Welcome to the Alchemy Club,” the obviously older student greeted him. “I am its president—”

SION ELTNAM ATLASIA?!

[Xamusel]

LOL!! XD I'll have to say, this has helped fill my laughter quota for the day faster than anything else. Good going, Kieran!

[Arbitrarity]

Oof, Limit Break. Yep, that's a thing. Kaede's idea to forge being a pen-pal is interesting, in that I think it should tell me something about her character, but the lead-up to it is definitely adorable. Knowing that she has yandere tendencies makes it slightly less cute, but it does fit, I guess.

Yep, that is an existing Sakura who's supposed to be there.

I really feel like he should have seen the social consequences of the fight coming, but I suppose Rin has different expectations about the social norms, being, as he said, a middle-aged Canadian.

Kaede's "aww that's nearly as good as Rin-kun!" is BRUTAL. Poor Itsuki is just trying to flex his academics, you didn't have to kill the man.

Overwhelming charisma == overwhelming flirting prowess. I feel like that was not his intention, either. Yikes. Truly a terrifying harem protagonist.

Aww I had noticed the alchemy reference, and I didn't know enough to tell if that was setting-native or not. I was assuming with Yggdrasil being a thing that it was setting-native, but I should have considered it more with the Tsukihime hint. Excellent choice.

[Kieran]

LOL!! XD I'll have to say, this has helped fill my laughter quota for the day faster than anything else. Good going, Kieran!

Glad you enjoyed it - it went on for a lot longer than I actually planned, but I wanted to get everything in there, rather than split it again . . .

But seriously, I'm very happy this made you laugh - I'm never sure, when I try for humour, whether or not I'll actually succeed.

Oof, Limit Break. Yep, that's a thing.

And in a guy who already has depressive and nihilistic tendencies, not a good one . . .

Kaede's idea to forge being a pen-pal is interesting, in that I think it should tell me something about her character, but the lead-up to it is definitely adorable. Knowing that she has yandere tendencies makes it slightly less cute, but it does fit, I guess.

While I've yet to track down a run-through of her route, I'm given to understand that the yandere aspect is an exaggeration of the anime's doing (which made it no less chilling to watch, mind you, as it was my first experience with the type). What I know for certain, however, is that the canon Kaede devotes herself to Rin's happiness and well-being out of guilt for what she tried to do to him - after he kept her from killing herself for it.

There's a very loving girl who's very disgusted with herself, somewhere deep down; that this version managed to do worse, as far as anyone can tell . . . Therapy has helped, by the time they reach high school age, but at ten? She was still pretty mired in guilt, and looking for penance, or punishment.

(Not unlike Nerine, actually, for all that Sia and she are a closer temperament)

Yep, that is an existing Sakura who's supposed to be there.

Yes, and he sort of knew that - but she's a minor character who doesn't show up until the Kaede route game, and only retroactively gets a route of her own in the remake. Confronted with her in the flesh, with the similarities to Sakura Tohsaka that she has . . .

I really feel like he should have seen the social consequences of the fight coming, but I suppose Rin has different expectations about the social norms, being, as he said, a middle-aged Canadian.

And not being particularly social in either setting. He never quite got the rules the first time around (or could bring himself to care about figuring them out); and now, he's in a situation where he has to - but he's expected to already know them.

Kaede's "aww that's nearly as good as Rin-kun!" is BRUTAL. Poor Itsuki is just trying to flex his academics, you didn't have to kill the man.

According to TVTropes (and I'm assuming they mean her route in-game, because everything mentioned for Nerine did appear), "When Rin half-jokingly says he wants to beat up Itsuki with a bat, she happily hands him one (complete with a nail) saying she had one prepared just in case he would need it. Or when he jokingly threatens to beat up Itsuki to death with his bare fist, she only protests he would hurt his hands doing so, and completely ignores the tiny detail that he apparently wants to end life of their classmate and friend."

. . . It's always the quiet ones, man. ALWAYS.

Overwhelming charisma == overwhelming flirting prowess. I feel like that was not his intention, either.

No, not even close - he just wanted to make sure she'd believe him. Instead, she got the whole "intense, smouldering gaze, sparkles everywhere, and possibly a dramatic wind flaring behind him blowing flower petals" effect.

It was enough to make Kaede panic; God knows what it'll do to Sia or Nerine . . .

(And this is also made worse by the fact that in one version of the game, Mayumi does have a route - but I don't think he knows that. )

Yikes. Truly a terrifying harem protagonist.

Who thinks he's actually a pretty terrible one (and in some ways, he is) - it's kind of like Katarina Claes and her "evil, villainous face."

Aww I had noticed the alchemy reference, and I didn't know enough to tell if that was setting-native or not. I was assuming with Yggdrasil being a thing that it was setting-native, but I should have considered it more with the Tsukihime hint. Excellent choice.

Thank you. I noticed that there was an opening in the setting for "cool, student president-type," as well as in the Works itself - though I admit, I was tempted to do Ilya, given the Einzberns and Project YGGDRASIL . . . But she'd effectively be Primula, and we already have one of those.

[Arbitrarity]

And in a guy who already has depressive and nihilistic tendencies, not a good one . . .

I was getting some Galen flashbacks there.

While I've yet to track down a run-through of her route, I'm given to understand that the yandere aspect is an exaggeration of the anime's doing (which made it no less chilling to watch, mind you, as it was my first experience with the type). What I know for certain, however, is that the canon Kaede devotes herself to Rin's happiness and well-being out of guilt for what she tried to do to him - after he kept her from killing herself for it.

There's a very loving girl who's very disgusted with herself, somewhere deep down; that this version managed to do worse, as far as anyone can tell . . . Therapy has helped, by the time they reach high school age, but at ten? She was still pretty mired in guilt, and looking for penance, or punishment.

(Not unlike Nerine, actually, for all that Sia and she are a closer temperament)

Yeah, it's just the idea of "my friend is depressed. My friend lied to me to keep me motivated when I was depressed. I should lie to him" is just fascinatingly twisted thinking. Penance is a good way to put it, I think.

According to TVTropes (and I'm assuming they mean her route in-game, because everything mentioned for Nerine did appear), "When Rin half-jokingly says he wants to beat up Itsuki with a bat, she happily hands him one (complete with a nail) saying she had one prepared just in case he would need it. Or when he jokingly threatens to beat up Itsuki to death with his bare fist, she only protests he would hurt his hands doing so, and completely ignores the tiny detail that he apparently wants to end life of their classmate and friend."

. . . It's always the quiet ones, man. ALWAYS.

Perhaps not so well-meaning then. I suppose I can't blame her, since she seems to be the focus of his attentions.

No, not even close - he just wanted to make sure she'd believe him. Instead, she got the whole "intense, smouldering gaze, sparkles everywhere, and possibly a dramatic wind flaring behind him blowing flower petals" effect.

That is a pretty perfect description of what his language evoked. I've definitely seen some of those phrases before from you, and they're still quite potent.
I'm suddenly reminded of that after-credits scene in Kaguya-sama season 2, episode... 7, where everyone becomes shoujo manga protagonists.

Thank you. I noticed that there was an opening in the setting for "cool, student president-type," as well as in the Works itself - though I admit, I was tempted to do Ilya, given the Einzberns and Project YGGDRASIL . . . But she'd effectively be Primula, and we already have one of those.

Also Ilya already has a job in the Works. That's why I initially dismissed the alchemy mention. I can't believe I forgot Sion.

[Kieran]

I was getting some Galen flashbacks there.

Galen was me, to a fair extent; without an intervening personality template like the druid's, this one would be much the same.

Yeah, it's just the idea of "my friend is depressed. My friend lied to me to keep me motivated when I was depressed. I should lie to him" is just fascinatingly twisted thinking. Penance is a good way to put it, I think.

Also desperation - and children who are desperate can come up with some pretty out-there ideas.

Perhaps not so well-meaning then. I suppose I can't blame her, since she seems to be the focus of his attentions.

. . . To be fair, I'm reasonably certain that's one of those scenes the game will play for laughs (which it does pretty well, from what I've seen of it); but it's a pretty good indicator that Kaede is not all sweetness and light, even if she doesn't go full-on yandere. She's just really good at sounding innocent about it.

That is a pretty perfect description of what his language evoked. I've definitely seen some of those phrases before from you, and they're still quite potent.

Thank you. Much like humour, romance is not something I'm very confident in writing (not that I'm especially trying to, in this case, but . . .).

I'm suddenly reminded of that after-credits scene in Kaguya-sama season 2, episode... 7, where everyone becomes shoujo manga protagonists.

. . . And now I have something to go find, immediately.

Seriously, however; I imagine that's how it would look to a sixteen-year-old girl. To a guy with neither confidence nor positive experience (and, most importantly, who can no longer see the dice rolls that result from his actions), her stuttered reaction is more a case of, "Well, damn - that didn't work, did it?" And if this work actually becomes a more full-fledged effort, that will probably be a running gag, of sorts . . .

Which could have some interesting consequences down the line; Nerine is so shy, submissive and simultaneously devoted to Rin that she might actually have a heart attack - and Sia's been known to calm her father down during his freak-outs by hitting him over the head with a chair . . . (a technique learned from her moms). And then, there's her sister to consider . . .

Also Ilya already has a job in the Works. That's why I initially dismissed the alchemy mention.

Which is fair - especially since Iri would've been the other obvious candidate, and she's not of an age (precisely) - though given that one of the Shuffle! remakes has a teacher route, it's maybe not that far-fetched . . .?

It would be awkward for so many reasons, though. SO MANY.

I can't believe I forgot Sion.

Yeah - the only character to actually officially cross into the Fate side? How could you?

[RanmaBushiko]

Still working on defrosting my freezer, today. Wound up sleeping in way too late for much else... However. The last chapter's been edited.


Chapter 6: Between A Rock and a Hard Place

I roll, then start to carefully move, doing my best to make no sound as several arrows slam through where my head’s general vicinity was, moments before.

“Come out, little lamb! Or are you going to make this interesting by making this like a game of 'whack a master'?” Herakles laughs in the distance.

I glance over my Laser Rifle. 10 shots, if I keep it to this power setting. If I pump it, I can probably give myself an extra shot or two, but he’s a legendary archer, even if he’s a berserker right now.

It’s not going to hold up for long, especially with how I used most of that CNC machine to build it.

“What? Too afraid to face your death like a man?” Herakles laughs harder. For a moment, I can see the top of his head through the holes, as he runs off with insane levels of speed.

And then I’m running, as I see the bulk Archery Dojo of the school thrown in my general direction, if slowly and in an obvious way. Still, it feels like I've been lucky to dodge like this...

“ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!” I yelp, as I barely dodge. “The fuck, man!”


“Oh you survived, hmm?!” He cackles with glee, before a lamp post is thrown towards my new location.

It’s a matter of desperation as I roll, then pause as a telephone pole slams into where I would have finished rolling to.

“Come, little lamb. It’s just you and me here. No others to slow us down. No one to save you, no one to help you.”


I frown, then move back a few more feet, watching for rocks behind me. Then I aim at an angle, and use my laser rifle to cut through the bulk of the school building. It takes 5 shots to do it right, carving into the weaknesses in the building as far as I can see them.


“Oh? You have a ranged weapon, too, hmm? Well, I wonder what THAT was supposed to do?”

To his words, I remain silent, instead using Ruby as a lever to start sliding half the school building down at him. With how much it’s damaged, and the sheer weight, it’s simple enough to get huge chunks of it rolling his way. Mostly due to the perfect cut from the laser rifle, and the principles of Archimedes still being the same.


“Oho! A trap, hmm?” I can hear clapping as I use the sliding building section as cover, jumping down and moving quietly towards the stairwell.

Loud thumps occur behind me, as I weave through classrooms, trying to get to the stairwell. I’m squishy, damn it. And with how all this is going on, I really don’t want to confront him directly…


“Come now! You have a ranged weapon, I have a ranged weapon. Let’s make this fun, shall we?” He calls out, smugness in his voice. “I’ll give you a chance to try and shoot my arrow down, out here in the courtyard. On my honor as a Son of Zeus.”

I pause, looking over the laser rifle, then flip a switch while thinking and listening carefully. Let's hope that the upgrade to my knowledge of building sci-fi style weapons will work for this...

“Come now. Won’t you test your archery against mine, former Norse God? You’re obviously a former God of Hunting, or related to one!” At his words, I breathe out slowly. “You promise to keep it fair?” Then I move, running from a blow…

That doesn’t come.

“Perfectly fair. You can do the countdown and everything!” Slowly, I move for the stairs, starting to pump the pump on the rifle in an attempt to charge up the batteries or capacitors a little more.

“Erik?” I glance over my shoulder at Ruby’s whisper. “Yeah?” I whisper back.

“What’s your chances of this working?” At Ruby’s question, I smirk. “Look this up. ‘Oh no, not a charge shot!’”

“Eh? I’m confused…” Ruby whispers, as I move forwards, carefully watching for Herakles to fuck me over with this.

He’s out in the courtyard, grinning at where I am. I can see faint lines of weakness through his body, as I focus, walking forwards.

“So, you’ve decided to try it.” His grin widens. “I can feel the legend coming from you, however weak it’s become, just as well as from the Sword your ally carries, you know.”

I rub my forehead for a moment. “That ability is just broken, you know that?”

He smirks, nodding.

“A count of ten, then, hmm?” I glance at the Laser Rifle, then pull on the trigger just enough to get this mode charging, before moving to a good 50 feet away from him. After that, I look at him. “Anything you’d like to ask, before I start to count to ten?”

He blinks, eyes studying me with surprise. Then he slowly nods, as I work the pump on the laser rifle, slowly working on restoring capacity for the batteries.

“Why her? Why work with that woman? She killed my master, and deserves death.” He asks, studying me.

“She found me, unconscious. Nursed me back to health. Was planning on turning me into a new body for her, if I didn’t wake up. Admittedly, her plan C involved possibly killing me in the attempt, but I woke up instead before she could really get started.” I admit.

Herakles eyes narrow. “And my reaction to you made you distrust me.”

“To be fair, you tried to skewer me. Are still doing so, as well." I admit. “Considering I know an alternate dimension version of your former master? This entire situation is a grand clusterfuck. If I could help you both, I would. But considering that this place is on the verge of collapsing, especially with that void in the center acting more and more like a black hole, and you hating Saber with a passion…”


Herakles stills, then flinches as he jerks to look that way with no little horror in his eyes. Then he pauses, slowly turning back to look at me.


“How. Exactly. Do you know of this?” He asks, an almost murderous taint to his voice.


“Shirou never knew that Illyasviel was his older sister by adoption.” I admit. “More than that, he never knew that Kiritsugu shortened his life span drastically in his attempts to retrieve your former Master. Their father died regretting that he couldn’t save her and be with her.”


Herakles stills, eyes wide in surprise and a bit of dawning horror. Then I grimace, as I twist the knife that much further. “And if your Master hadn’t been experimented on, by her so-called ‘Family’, then Saber wouldn’t have killed her. After all, Saber knew her from the last war, and was friends with your Master’s Mother.”


“So I’m simply to blame her family, and her father for not saying things, while moving on?” He asks, no humor in his eyes.


“I could probably get you an in with the Illyasviel from another timeline, if you can stand that she loves her brother very, very much. You’d likely be happy with her, even.” I admit, studying him carefully. In the distance, I can hear an engine steadily approaching.


Herakles frowns, then shakes his head. “As much as I wish for that? First. I’m going to rip the legend out of Saber’s blade, and ascend to true divinity once more. And then, I’m going to kill her slowly and break this place that has caused so much suffering. After that, I’ll make a fitting monument to you for giving me this information. A good grave, if nothing else.”


I study him, carefully. “Won’t you reconsider?”


Herakles shakes his head. “Count, or I’ll count for you. Saber’s nearly here, after all.”


I nod, glancing at the laser rifle while making an educated guess to the power reserves, then lift it up.


“One.”


He smirks, notching his bow, as my laser rifle starts to hum.


“Two.”


I glance around, and carefully judge where I’ll have to aim, as I take an aiming position with my rifle.


“Three.”


He’s aiming at me, now, amusement on his face.


“Four.”


I have to do this. Breathe in, and out, Erik.


“Five.”


Steady my aim. Use what I learned as a young man, not even a demigod.


“Six.”


Steady my aim, hold my breath, and fire. Or breathe out as I fire. Either or.


“Seven.”


He’s smug. Yeah, I can tell why, too. He’s legendary for killing a hydra with a fucking bow and arrows.


“Eight.”


Breathe in... Luck, don't fail me now...


“Nine.”


And out…


“Ten!”


We fire, as one. A massive beam of light erupts from the laser rifle, carving through his dozens of arrows fired nearly at the same time, as the charged laser carves with a brilliant bright light through everything before it.


Then I swing wide, before the power runs out.


For one single moment, he’s wide eyed at the beam of white light carving into his arm, and then he’s missing from my vision.


I glance, desperately turning to behind me, and I can see him behind me, almost in slow motion. His sword raised in one arm, the other missing and sizzling from heat…


I try to roll, to dodge, to do anything, as I see the glee in his eyes. I've got nothing left, though. Not against this speed.


His leg’s rising up, to kick at me. He anticipated my attempts to dodge?!


The next moment, I feel something slam into my gut, leaving me with barely any air in my lungs. He’s fading off into the distance, sword embedded in the ground.


He’s moving away? No, it isn’t that!


I turn my head, staring at Arturia Alter, holding me in one arm while driving off.


“Thanks for the save. Got some intel by trying to challenge him to a shooting contest, like he invited me to.”


Arturia half snarls as she drives off, while I slowly pull myself to the back of the bike while it’s in motion. Glancing back, Herakles is staring with confusion at his arm, which is nowhere near close to regenerating.


“Why bother?! You’re just as foolish as Shirou was, and if you think I’m letting you have Avalon to take that sort of damage, then you’re badly mistaken, Erik.”


“For one, he’s not immune to damage that can hurt the soul. Even if I'm not a god anymore, I still remember perfectly well how to make the style of Laser Rifle that could do that. And it looks like his Godhand isn’t working on it well like it should be.” I snap back, mentally.

“Ah. And his Noble Phantasm is?” Arturia’s voice comes back with less of a growl, but she’s still looking pissed.


“He did twelve labors, so he has twelve lives, one for each labor he did. Anything that kills the fucking bastard, he gains some resistance to. But as long as I don’t kill him, he shouldn’t regain that arm he’s lost. Additionally, he’s infamous for shooting 100 arrows at once, so be aware he can probably swing that sword a hundred times as a combination attack, or shoot a bow and a hundred arrows like that.”


“Tch. Little wonder I couldn’t keep him down for so long.”

I just nod, clinging to her back as I continue to work on getting my lungs full of air again, even as my body starts trembling from exertion and exhaustion.

“He’s tracking us both, via legend somehow. Skip the plan of delaying him, and head straight for Shirou’s grave.”

I can see her nod, as I shiver from exhaustion, as my adrenaline levels crash.


“He’s using the Sword to try to ascend to being a God once more. Since you’re the holder and wielder, you’re in the way of that, gaining just as much power as he is. He’s learned about why his Master was beguiled into dying, but now he doesn’t really give a damn, except seeing you dead, and me with you. Therefore…” I focus, silently, thinking over my bare bones plan. “Our best and only shot is to get him close to the center of what remains of this singularity, while you use Avalon to survive what I’ll do then.”

Moments later, she’s twisting the bike.

“Eh?” Why is she...?

A massive chunk of debris from the school lands where we were driving through, moments earlier. Herakles is on top, grinning at us both.

“Hey, you figured out the trick to grabbing it after you throw it, and riding it down!” I shout at him, with a grin. “Good job taking Thor’s method, and adapting it, I suppose!”

The look of absolute confusion, mixed with him obviously thinking “WHAT THE FUCK IS HE TALKING ABOUT?!” on his face is interrupted by Arturia turning us, and prana bursting in such a way that the front wheel impacts directly into his face.

Then we’re off again, towards the Einzbern castle, or what’s left of it.

[Kieran]

. . . I'm going to blame your insomnia for this, but I'm really not following. None of the characters really sound like themselves, you're not really following either cosmology very well, and I've yet to get the sense that Erik is really slowed down at all, for all that he's supposedly "mortal." I'm just not seeing the point of any of this, really.

[Arbitrarity]

You can't just throw buildings and call yourself an Archer, stupid!

More than that, he never knew that Kiritsugu shortened his life span drastically by trying to retrieve your former Master

Object of the "his" here is obvious by context for us, since we know the plot, but it feels unclear in normal sentence construction. It's definitely something someone would do conversationally, though. Herc is fascinatingly irrational here. I suppose Grail taint is always a good explanation for people being irrationally angry. His reaction to the void is interesting, and somewhat implies that he knows more than Erik does about why it's happening.

Unsurprising that Heracles uses Nine Lives for the literal hundreds of arrows. I'm somewhat more surprised that he goes immediately to melee afterwards, but as per "be wary of promises", he didn't actually swear to not attack if Erik won the archery contest. I'm somewhat surprised at not regenerating the arm, but since he lacks a prana source for normal magical healing, I suppose he would be limited to just the Noble Phantasm. He might burn a life to get the arm back himself, though.

I feel like if you can throw something hard enough that you could ride it to your destination, you can probably just jump that distance far more easily. Though the object gives you a bit more of an option for changing momentum in midair.

I haven't read enough Strange Fake to have a picture of how Alcides sounds, so I have no idea if this Heracles is similar. It seems unlikely, since they have somewhat different motivations. I will agree that a lot of characters are kind of blending together and sounding similar. I'm reminded of how everyone is snarky in Joss Whedon's writing.
I will also second that it might be useful to emphasize Erik's weaknesses, rather than his strengths, a bit more. Jury-rigging a laser rifle that cuts through God Hand is fairly potent. I will recognize that at full power, he could probably construct a mech out of a building in a few seconds and fly off to his destination, if he was willing to burn the legend (though it would not be the best way to solve those problems), but avoiding injury in combat with Heracles multiple times, even momentarily, is still outside of what I'd expect a "mortal" to do, and dodging a building doesn't help. I'm getting more "demigod with dregs of legend" tier of power here.

[RanmaBushiko]

. . . I'm going to blame your insomnia for this, but I'm really not following. None of the characters really sound like themselves, you're not really following either cosmology very well, and I've yet to get the sense that Erik is really slowed down at all, for all that he's supposedly "mortal." I'm just not seeing the point of any of this, really.

Yeah, I'll adjust the dialogue later... *sighs* More explanations later.

You can't just throw buildings and call yourself an Archer, stupid!

Object of the "his" here is obvious by context for us, since we know the plot, but it feels unclear in normal sentence construction. It's definitely something someone would do conversationally, though. Herc is fascinatingly irrational here. I suppose Grail taint is always a good explanation for people being irrationally angry. His reaction to the void is interesting, and somewhat implies that he knows more than Erik does about why it's happening.

Unsurprising that Heracles uses Nine Lives for the literal hundreds of arrows. I'm somewhat more surprised that he goes immediately to melee afterwards, but as per "be wary of promises", he didn't actually swear to not attack if Erik won the archery contest. I'm somewhat surprised at not regenerating the arm, but since he lacks a prana source for normal magical healing, I suppose he would be limited to just the Noble Phantasm. He might burn a life to get the arm back himself, though.

I feel like if you can throw something hard enough that you could ride it to your destination, you can probably just jump that distance far more easily. Though the object gives you a bit more of an option for changing momentum in midair.

I haven't read enough Strange Fake to have a picture of how Alcides sounds, so I have no idea if this Heracles is similar. It seems unlikely, since they have somewhat different motivations. I will agree that a lot of characters are kind of blending together and sounding similar. I'm reminded of how everyone is snarky in Joss Whedon's writing.
I will also second that it might be useful to emphasize Erik's weaknesses, rather than his strengths, a bit more. Jury-rigging a laser rifle that cuts through God Hand is fairly potent. I will recognize that at full power, he could probably construct a mech out of a building in a few seconds and fly off to his destination, if he was willing to burn the legend (though it would not be the best way to solve those problems), but avoiding injury in combat with Heracles multiple times, even momentarily, is still outside of what I'd expect a "mortal" to do, and dodging a building doesn't help. I'm getting more "demigod with dregs of legend" tier of power here.

Yeah. 1 hour of sleep one night, 4 a different night, when I was writing this doesn't help.

As for the building? He does it in Heaven's Feel against Saber Alter. So it technically works?

Herakles being irrational is all part of his still being a Berserker. Imagine what the combination of Legend, Grail Mud, and Madness Enhancement is *doing* to his brain... but that doesn't mean he isn't still a demi-god, and knows certain things...

As for Nine Lives, Herakles is cheap here. Of course he's going to be cheap here. He doesn't want his enemy to have a valid source of prana, when he's finally gotten Saber Alter down to a weak enough level to put down for good. He's also started to toy with both less, here. In terms of countering the laser rifle, however? Yeah, he's going to need to use Godhand to fix it. He's not exactly working at full strength without a master, either, so that influences things too.

Until then, that arm's useless, and so is his ranged capabilities.

As for the weaknesses... Erik's running on luck right now, so to speak, as well as Herakles throwing things at where he was making sounds from, in the general area. (Quite literally, in fact, as it's one of the changes I decided on to mitigate the whole "Not a God anymore" issue post Fate Anarchy. And guess what encounter just used up every use he had...?) The first encounter with Herakles was him toying with them both. This time, it took every bit of stealth and skill Erik has left to manage to hide, as well as a bit of cunning. One that is mitigated by the fact that Herakles was still playing with him, much like a cat playing with a mouse before eating the mouse for dinner., one stuck in a cage with no top.

The moment the cat decides to jump into the cage with the mouse, the mouse is screwed. And considering Erik cut off the roof to get in...?

Erik's gotten lucky twice, but that doesn't mean he has a third time, in Herakles' mind. So if they ever face off again...

As for Alcides, I haven't managed to find any of his dialogue, on my end. I'll try to fix the dialogue, and get them to sound more different, when I can though.

[RanmaBushiko]

Sorry to double-post, but The last chapter's been edited, and now for the next one.

Chapter 7: Castle Einzbern

“Hey, is it safe again to talk, Erik?” Ruby asks, from where I still have her stowed.

“For now, I suppose…” I admit, trailing off.

“So, I get the Vile charge shot meme now, I suppose. Seriously, quoting Maverick Hunter X at me, though?” Ruby states, grumpily.

“Ah, you loved the show back there and we both know it, even if I’m not likely to be able to dodge like that again anytime soon.” I shoot back at Ruby, as Arturia clenches her fists tighter around the motorcycle’s handlebars.

“Our best bet, Arturia, is to bring you to as full power as possible, then cut power from the sword to the singularity… by having you drain the blade of the rest of it’s legend. With Avalon, we’ll be able to get you out of damned near anything using command spells, so long as the connection holds. And if my other Servant on my Wolfen Mark 2 is working as I suspect they are, they’ll be close enough for my Prototype Cosmoreactor to supply you with power properly, rather than the fraction we’re dealing with right now.” I can see Arturia’s grip lightening on the handlebars, as she relaxes somewhat.

“Thank you, Erik. For not hiding things from me.” I nod, breathing out at her words.

“Yeah. No problem at all.” I admit, keeping one eye out open for Berserker behind us.

Though I spot him in the distance many times, we’re surprisingly left undisturbed as we reach the Einzbern estate. It leaves me on edge.

“Get to Shirou’s body. Will you be adding an epitaph to Illyasviel’s grave while we’re here? Considering you met her in the past, before this clusterfuck?” I ask aloud, not using subtlety at all.


Arturia stills for a moment, and I can see her eyes wide with surprise and what looks like grief, as well as shame.


Then she nods, staying silent, as she moves to Shirou’s grave. I nod in the direction I last saw Herakles, then follow, working on charging the batteries for the laser rifle as I go.

“Oooh. I don’t like this one bit, Erik!” Ruby admits, quietly. “He was following us so much towards the end, but…”


“He looked confused, and was definitely pondering things, Ruby? I noticed that, too. Do me a favor, and when we get to the bodies… can you check if there’s any way to revive them that won’t require months in my Wolfen, or a way to save their memories at the minimum?”


“Likely not, I’ll admit.” Ruby admits, quietly. “Even if Avalon was used, it’s still more than possible to render someone brain dead.”

“Still, if anyone might be able to do it, if there’s anything left, it would be either my wife, or Scylla…” I pause for a long while, at Herakles in the distance, by the wood line, then give him a salute with my rifle while he moves between the trees. From shadow to shadow, doing his best to ensure I can’t shoot him..

“You weren’t lying. She really did know my former Master.” Herakles trails off, quietly, then shakes his head. “Why? Why didn’t she recognize Illyasviel?!”

“She was 6 when they last met, Herakles.. To Saber, she would have been in her twenties, not stuck in the body of a young girl. Busty like her mother, not thin and skinny like she is.” I admit, speaking loud enough so he can hear me clearly.

Then I pause, as it all makes horrifying sense. “You loved her like one of your children, huh?”

Silently, he nods, before I sit, rubbing my forehead. “Sorry for insulting you by accident, then. I didn’t realize...”

He looks at me through the trees, with a mix of rage and grief in his eyes. I study the look in his eyes, then sigh softly. “Save the rage for the Einzberns, if you make it out instead of us. Unless you’d like to talk about forming an alliance, instead?”


“You cut my arm off, and it still has yet to regenerate. Do you think I’m going to get near while you have that thing?” He snarls.

“You have Godhand, your Twelve Labors. It’s just not used to damage directly to your divinity and soul.” I shoot back. “My home universe had much more unpleasant dealings with it. Mostly by our enemies… with me being the only one that made any reliable equipment that does that sort of damage in bulk. Even reduced as I am, barely able to make weapons and equipment, rather than the seconds I’m used to? I can still make the same style of weapons as before.”

He flinches, staring at me with more respect, and no little horror. Then he sighs. “Who are you the son of?”

“Uller. But that fucker wasn’t the one to raise me. No, it was Fenris posing as one of his own children, seeing as I wound up in a stable time loop where he raised me to save him, after I’d already gone back in time to save him… at the cost of the Titans being released. And ooh boy, when the pantheons realized I was behind that, inadvertently, in breaking fate to ensure Fenris wouldn’t be stuck with his?” I trail off as Herakles outright flinches at my words.


Then he stills. “The way you speak of Titans, it sounds personal. And like there were a great deal more.”

“There were more? Not exactly. But they were much nastier, and the Greater Titans, were literally concepts that held worlds within them. Ones that birthed, or countered, pantheons. Ymir’s death caused the Great Flood.” In the distance, I can hear Arturia now carving into stone, close enough to listen, and help fight if necessary, but far enough to work in peace.

Herakles thinks. “Not a lamb, then. A former wolf, forced to be like a lamb?”

“Fair enough comparison.” I study him, carefully. “If there’s any way for us to possibly revive Illyasviel, even in a new body, would you rather I try to take that risk?”

“If you do, promise me she’ll be happy.” He states, quietly. “Her grave has always calmed me down, left me at peace. But with how reality is breaking, it won’t last much longer, will it?”

“This entire place is slowly getting more and more fucked, and both you and Saber are draining the one thing keeping it from falling apart, to keep yourselves alive, and able to fight. There might well be enough legend left in it for both of you to ascend, but…”

“Not enough for us to live, as well. Unless you can save us?” Arturia’s voice echoes from behind. I glance back to see Shirou out of his grave, and Illyasviel out of hers.

Arturia’s kneeling over them, studying them both.

“Ruby, go scan them while I talk with Herakles here, please. Check them for if there’s any way to revive them, or save them…”

I toss Ruby in the direction of Arturia Alter, to ensure Ruby’s flight time is cut down.

Then I feel nothing but pain. Slowly, I look down at a sword sticking out of my gut.

“Foolish.” Herakles rumbles from behind me.


I try to pull myself up off his sword. To do anything I can to move.


I’ve got nothing. Avalon in the distance is in Arturia’s hands, and she’s turning around, as if in slow motion… no, not slow motion, it’s my adrenaline.


Oh fuck, this hurts so much.

“Ow.”

I try to struggle, to move, to twist… then there’s nothing but pain, as he rips the sword out of my side, and bashes me towards Arturia’s general direction.


“Nothing more than ashes of Divinity, after all. Perhaps if you had more, you could have survived this.” Herakles rumbles.

Rumbles? It doesn't sound as loud? Oh… this body is dying, isn’t it?

“Erik!” Is that Arturia? She’s getting quieter, even as she’s getting closer.

[Arbitrarity]

I still think Arturia is acting not like Alter. She's basically doing the full range of non-Alter Arturia emoting. Saying "oh, but there are important emotional revelations!" is not enough to explain this. That's enough to make normal Arturia less of a cold presence at the start of Fate/Stay Night. It's not enough to scratch Alter this hard.
"Damage to divinity" sounds like we're dealing with the aggravated damage track? I guess that's one way to describe it.

Heracles's interest in Erik's backstory feels a bit unnatural, or forced. Erik doesn't gain much advantage from going on those tangents, because it distracts from the emotional point, and Herc's interest in them also lacks a clear motive. At most Erik would be trying to... intimidate Heracles? Which seems foolish. I guess Erik does have a slight tendency towards megalomania (bragging about cloning devices etc) so it's not fully out of character for him, but Herc playing along feels wrong. Herc doesn't even seem to be buying time, since he doesn't approach during that conversation. At most he's trying to get Erik to think he's listening... which actually might make sense, but it doesn't make the dialogue less awkward. That interpretation feels a bit tortured. I do vaguely like the idea of Erik having a flaw of megalomania and being forced to go on villainous monologues describing his backstory, though.
Herc does at least have a distinct tone to him, which is nice. The archaic/formal tone is distinct enough. His behaviour also remains fairly hard to read, given the backstab.

[RanmaBushiko]

I still think Arturia is acting not like Alter. She's basically doing the full range of non-Alter Arturia emoting. Saying "oh, but there are important emotional revelations!" is not enough to explain this. That's enough to make normal Arturia less of a cold presence at the start of Fate/Stay Night. It's not enough to scratch Alter this hard.
"Damage to divinity" sounds like we're dealing with the aggravated damage track? I guess that's one way to describe it.

Heracles's interest in Erik's backstory feels a bit unnatural, or forced. Erik doesn't gain much advantage from going on those tangents, because it distracts from the emotional point, and Herc's interest in them also lacks a clear motive. At most Erik would be trying to... intimidate Heracles? Which seems foolish. I guess Erik does have a slight tendency towards megalomania (bragging about cloning devices etc) so it's not fully out of character for him, but Herc playing along feels wrong. Herc doesn't even seem to be buying time, since he doesn't approach during that conversation. At most he's trying to get Erik to think he's listening... which actually might make sense, but it doesn't make the dialogue less awkward. That interpretation feels a bit tortured. I do vaguely like the idea of Erik having a flaw of megalomania and being forced to go on villainous monologues describing his backstory, though.
Herc does at least have a distinct tone to him, which is nice. The archaic/formal tone is distinct enough. His behaviour also remains fairly hard to read, given the backstab.

Have you seen Carnival Phantasm's version of Saber Alter? She's still dark, still angry, but a lot less... "cold" than she is as canon Saber Alter. She has a much bigger temper, but... have this as an example (video starts 29 seconds or so in): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZ1mWFi9FwM

You can see that as a closer rendition to how she is in this story, rather than just classic Saber Alter. (Doesn't mean she can't act that way, especially in a fight, though...)

As for why she's like that, you'll see next chapter. Still making sure I have it just right before sending to Kieran for a proofread, but it's just about done.



As for Herakles... ever heard of "playing along until you can stab them in the back"? As well as hoping for information being told, so he can ensure that Laser Rifle doesn't get used at him again.

He's more than willing to let his opponents talk long enough to get a blow in. If that happens to help him out? That would be nice.

And if a Titan might show up, wondering where Erik happens to be at, he'd rather know than wonder, thus the interest when Erik mentioned Titans.

Let's face it. Between Madness Enhancement, and the Mud, he's not exactly perfectly rational here. Add in legend making it screw with him worse while making him fully aware of it? He's going to be jumping from one plan to another, offering people time to torment them more, just for the sake of tormenting people more.

So even I'm having a hard time deciding on how he acts, at times.

Because the legend's not only enhancing his rational thought, making him act more like he did when sane, it's also enhancing the curses of the mud he bathed in...


Edit:
Since you really want to push for spoilers, here, I should clarify further on Arturia's situation. Tell me. What does Legend do? It influences you, based on your past feats. It makes you more like your legendary actions.

Now tell me. Does Arturia's legend say she should be like Saber Alter, or Arturia Pendragon?

[Kieran]

Since you really want to push for spoilers, here, I should clarify further on Arturia's situation. Tell me. What does Legend do? It influences you, based on your past feats. It makes you more like your legendary actions.

Now tell me. Does Arturia's legend say she should be like Saber Alter, or Arturia Pendragon?

The better question (and really, the one you need to answer) is, "Why would the Heroic Spirit Arturia Pendragon, in the midst of the Fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail War, be operating under Scion's metaphysical rules . . .?"

[RanmaBushiko]

The better question (and really, the one you need to answer) is, "Why would the Heroic Spirit Arturia Pendragon, in the midst of the Fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail War, be operating under Scion's metaphysical rules . . .?"

They're in the middle of a collapsing singularity. Gaia's literally thrown the singularity out the universe, from what Erik has seen outside it. If there is one, he's not seeing it. And they're relying on a Scion first edition artifact to hold things together. Literally to hold things together...

Yes, they're heroic spirits. But at the same time... even if she's not fully operating under them, they're still influencing her heavily. Especially, oh, I don't know. Maybe after Erik ordered her to drain it deeply of legend, to restore herself closer to full power? You would think that would have some influence on how it's influencing her...? Maybe? Just a tiny bit?

And considering how they've both been draining it dry, like a battery, to stay in existence?

Herakles has outright developed something similar to the "Scent the Divine" knack to track Erik and Arturia, here. They ARE picking up some scion elements. Is it so hard to think that she'd pick up the basic influence of legend, with no source of divinity, barring divine right to rule, in her? That it would twist that, to amplify who she was as King to shine through? I mean, technically, the dragon core might count... *muses* I'd have to look into that, and figure that out later.

Sorry for the somewhat cranky, tired reply though. I'm tired. Really, really tired. And lost a good half hour or so of work in a game I was playing to relax, because I forgot to save before poking at the lethal bad spot of doom.

And still wide fucking awake, as usual.

So does that explain things? Hopefully my tired, cranky ramblings make sense. And hopefully I don't piss anyone off by writing this.

Still not sleeping edit:

Am I being too subtle with how things are being shifted around, because of the Sword of Atli? Or not putting in enough information, here, to hint at things?

I know I fucked up with the luck thing, and not mentioning that.

[Arbitrarity]

I have watched Carnival Phantasm, and I was considering that portrayal when making those criticisms about emoting. Even there, her emotional range is limited mostly to "outraged" and "hungry". The instant she is in a situation where she needs something outside that range, like "embarrassed", they morph her back into normal Saber.
Legend warping her back to a more normal character actually does seem like a fairly good metaphysical argument. You seem to be implying this is addressed in the next chapter, so this is more a weakness of serial fiction being serial. I was going to complain that we either need out-of-story explanation for why they're happening, or to REALLY read between the lines at this stage, which are both not great storytelling, but if you're more explicitly addressing that in-story, I guess that's accounted for already. Sorry for being somewhat harsh about it in that case. Were you in a less cranky mood, I would have been greatly amused if you just said "hm, yes, this is strange, I wonder why this is happening" only to destroy the criticism later.

"playing along until you can stab them in the back"

At most he's trying to get Erik to think he's listening... which actually might make sense, but it doesn't make the dialogue less awkward. That interpretation feels a bit tortured.

That was in my hypothesis space, yes. As I said, I thought that interpretation was a bit of a stretch, or not terribly clearly indicated, but it's nice to get confirmation about it. I do notice Erik spends a fair amount of time doing backstory exposition-as-intimidation to other characters, which is sort of fair given that his backstory is important and not available to the audience otherwise, but can get a bit grating when the part he's talking about isn't terribly relevant to the situation.


(EDIT: In response to not sleeping edit)
I think you are being a bit too subtle with things being shifted because of the changes from the Sword. More specifically, it would help as a reader if you foreshadowed that this was a thing that we might expect to happen when a Servant is grounded with Legend, rather than via the Grail/prana. You probably could have made a slightly more explicit point of this with Mordred in the second chapter, for example, and make a point of the effects of Fatebinding or similar. A reader should not need to both know Scion metaphysics and expect them to apply with no indication as to why this would be the case.

I will also agree that if you're tracking something behind the scenes that gets narratively expressed as "got lucky" but is finite, you probably want to indicate that to the reader somehow. Seeing Erik's Legend expenditure in Anarchy was a useful footnote for feeling out the "his powers are not infinite" part, and it's a nice easy number to look at that doesn't need much context, other than how much particular actions cost. I'm not sure exactly how you'd flavor burning Willpower or similar, perhaps the Cosmoreactor could be a useful narrative device for that?

[RanmaBushiko]

I have watched Carnival Phantasm, and I was considering that portrayal when making those criticisms about emoting. Even there, her emotional range is limited mostly to "outraged" and "hungry". The instant she is in a situation where she needs something outside that range, like "embarrassed", they morph her back into normal Saber.
Legend warping her back to a more normal character actually does seem like a fairly good metaphysical argument. You seem to be implying this is addressed in the next chapter, so this is more a weakness of serial fiction being serial. I was going to complain that we either need out-of-story explanation for why they're happening, or to REALLY read between the lines at this stage, which are both not great storytelling, but if you're more explicitly addressing that in-story, I guess that's accounted for already. Sorry for being somewhat harsh about it in that case. Were you in a less cranky mood, I would have been greatly amused if you just said "hm, yes, this is strange, I wonder why this is happening" only to destroy the criticism later.



That was in my hypothesis space, yes. As I said, I thought that interpretation was a bit of a stretch, or not terribly clearly indicated, but it's nice to get confirmation about it. I do notice Erik spends a fair amount of time doing backstory exposition-as-intimidation to other characters, which is sort of fair given that his backstory is important and not available to the audience otherwise, but can get a bit grating when the part he's talking about isn't terribly relevant to the situation.


(EDIT: In response to not sleeping edit)
I think you are being a bit too subtle with things being shifted because of the changes from the Sword. More specifically, it would help as a reader if you foreshadowed that this was a thing that we might expect to happen when a Servant is grounded with Legend, rather than via the Grail/prana. You probably could have made a slightly more explicit point of this with Mordred in the second chapter, for example, and make a point of the effects of Fatebinding or similar. A reader should not need to both know Scion metaphysics and expect them to apply with no indication as to why this would be the case.

I will also agree that if you're tracking something behind the scenes that gets narratively expressed as "got lucky" but is finite, you probably want to indicate that to the reader somehow. Seeing Erik's Legend expenditure in Anarchy was a useful footnote for feeling out the "his powers are not infinite" part, and it's a nice easy number to look at that doesn't need much context, other than how much particular actions cost. I'm not sure exactly how you'd flavor burning Willpower or similar, perhaps the Cosmoreactor could be a useful narrative device for that?

Yeah. I'm still fucking up. Stupid goddamned lawnmower and weed eater combination.

Ugh.

Yeah... it's going to be covered at least in part next chapter, and seeing some signs of it the chapter after that. And yeah, serial fiction being serial is a part of it, I'll agree.

I've got the next two chapter chunks written, just not quite up for posting, and I wanted Kieran to look them over first to make sure they make some *sense*... and buy me time to work on Fate/Anarchy Chapter 66 more, before I get caught up in the third chapter ahead of what I've posted more, and where I want to go with this story. Since some of the realizations coming the next couple of chapters derailed most of my initial plot, quite well, for a quick and easy finish to the story.

As for shifting... gotcha. When all this is over, once Fate Anarchy is over, I'll try to rewrite the snippets here into something more... tangible. Or update them a bit to take this into consideration. Unfortunately, I'm working on a different setup post Fate/Anarchy than I have been for Fate/Anarchy, so there's still a lot of differences, etc. Admittedly, there's also a lot of other shit that comes with the differences, but... you get it, I think.

(Also. Let's face it. Scion 1e has far too much dice rolling for it's own good. Lowering the sheer number of dice I have to roll is a good thing.)

I will try to do something like that for flavor, but again, it's a little hard. Especially since Kieran and I are limiting ourselves to 1 exp per chapter for storytelling. And that means the luck pool is harder to nail down than you'd think, as a result, for actual size... so I effectively put it in as "Erik's not using the luck pool yet" for encounter number 1, "Erik found the brand new, top of the line, barely past prototype stage CNC mill in Fuyuki High School, built most of his stuff, then cannibalized it for parts, to have a functional, if temperamental laser rifle" for the first bit of luck used, then "OH FUCK, OH FUCK, DODGE EVERYTHING!" for everything else. Easier than dropping actual numbers, looking at the chart for if I could afford numbers, swearing a lot and then being stuck writing another Fate Anarchy length story between Anarchy and this to ensure the experience gain fit.

Make sense, much?

I will try to revisit it, eventually, and rewrite the sections to make more sense with fatebinding, etc, as you said. It's just going to take time, and likely not all of it will happen until after Fate/Anarchy is fully done, as well as all the epilogues, anyways. So there's some time to go.

[RanmaBushiko]

Have another chapter, since I'm awake enough to post, and managed to get the work done on it.

Chapter 8: Dreams Between Life and Death


Everything has gone black.

I last saw Arturia Alter running towards me, but I…

Damn. Right. My real body is in a coma, isn’t it?


A flash, if blurred, of gold, erupts behind my closed eyes…

Then I start dreaming.




Camlann. A field of swords, impaled in her men.

Arturia, impaling Mordred with Rhongomyniad. The despair in Arturia’s heart, that she killed her own child, even if she never wanted one.

Turning away, not bearing to look at her own child’s death, so she would not break, only to feel a pulse of magic, and looking down at Clarent cutting into her.


Hatred for Morgan, her sister. Utter, raw hatred that only grows deeper, even as she dies slowly, over the course of several days.



“So that’s what it looked like from Arturia’s perspective? Huh…”




A bargain, with the world.

A wish, to fix things. Even if it rewrote history in the process.


She doesn’t know how much it would leave them suffering.

Arturia’s just finally tired of bottling it up inside.


Hiding her pain, her sorrow from her people.


So much regret, that she couldn’t do better, and hoped to find one that might.


Even though she knew herself that there was no one better at the time… the last wish of a woman who forced herself to be King.






Kiritsugu Emiya turned out to be a monster, for all she loved being with Irisviel.


One who cared nothing about the price to be paid, so long as he could save people.


She hates him, because she did the exact same thing. To save the many, she destroyed a single town in her own kingdom, so all others could be saved.


And hates herself for it still, to this day.


“Yeah, he kinda was a dick, wasn’t he?”




She failed Irisviel.


Kiritsugu forced her to destroy the grail without warning.


Archer constantly showered her with marriage proposals.


Her rage constantly grows inside, as well as wrath. But there’s always chivalry. There’s always kindness, and doing the right thing.


Yet sometimes, she wonders if it’s ever enough.


“You made her life better than you think, Arturia Pendragon.”




Back to her death she goes, waiting for another summons.


Pain. Agony. It doesn’t matter. She’ll be summoned again, she knows it. This time? She’ll get to do better.


Shirou Emiya summons her. Taiga is friendly. Sakura is quiet, but kind.


She finally hopes that she can do better, even if she barely gets any prana from Shirou.


Perhaps Shirou can help Sakura out?


“Yeah… I know where this is going… damn it all.”




“I WON’T LET YOU KILL MY SISTER!” A scream from Rin, loud enough to echo half a mile away.


Her arriving at Rin’s half dead body, explaining what happened before she passes away.

Her crowning achievement: Stabbing Gilgamesh in the back with her Azoth dagger, in the middle of attempting to use Ea on Sakura, and detonating her knife there.


Sakura dying along with Gilgamesh in a massive explosion, as both their prepared attacks go wrong. Tears in Sakura’s eyes, as she dies.


Rin bathes in the mud, after trying to retrieve her sister’s corpse, only to die in Arturia’s arms.


Arturia only rages more, as she looks at the dying Rin.


“If only I’d been able to save you two…” She whispers, before moving off to save her Master.


“You would have only been another victim, Arturia.”




Illyasviel, standing over her brother’s corpse.


“Aww… I wanted to put him in a doll, though! Sella, Leysritt! Get one out of storage, so I can try anyways, please?”


The feeling of rage, running her through.


The look of confusion, and slight recognition on Illyasviel’s face as she slowly, steadily bleeds out from the gut and lung wounds.


Fighting with Berserker through the forest, neither caring so long as the other was dead and buried, only to be interrupted by falling into the mud. Him, into a deep pool, while she fell into a shallow one that reached out to try and drag her deeper. Her mind tainted, twisted… but not enough to completely break her. Not quite enough to kill her emotions, like it feels it’s meant to.


She still wants to see the right thing done. But her rage and hatred twists that.


She should not feel emotions, but instead shows her rage and anger in almost all things.


The mud twisted her, but did not completely remake her, like it did Berserker.

She pulls herself out, vomiting some of the mud, then turns to stare at the lake surrounding Berserker, corrupting him.

The world is burning.

A man in green approaching.

A deal. A deal she can’t pass up, to save her Master. To save Rin, to save Sakura, to save poor dead Shirou… all could be hers, if she guards a holy grail.

She laughs, a hollow, terrible laugh, then deadens her emotions for the fighting he’s promised may come. Just like before. To save the kingdom, at the cost of a city.

Deaden the pain, deaden the emotions, and fight as hard as it takes.

She doesn’t notice the mud helping twist her further, as she abandons emotions in order to save them. Influencing her mind, her mindset and ways of thinking as she begins her work.

Forcing the remaining Servants to have prana from the Grail he’s given her. So they’d fight, on and on, as long as it would take.

Re-materializing the dead Servants, using the mud.

Blood and pain, as she makes them all submit. All but Caster, who’s avoided the waves of mud.

He’ll come later, she’s sure. Then he’ll either die, or bend the knee, as the others have done.

Chaldea arriving.

The confusion of her new followers dying one by one.

Staring them down, the Greater Grail behind her.

The pain of facing Lancelot’s child. All the while wondering who the hell Lancelot was, and remembering lives where Lancelot lived, along with lives where Lancelot never existed.

The mud’s work, perhaps? She doesn’t know anymore. But to save Shirou, and Rin, and everyone else, she fights on anyway.

Her fall. Her failure. Attempting to warn them about what that man in green talked about.

Dying, staring upwards. Seeing a bustier version of herself, armed with Rhongomyniad… tossing her a sword, as everything collapses. The singularity falling away, any support left from Gaia shattered, even as she clutches the sword in her arms.

Waking up, days later. Alive, healthy. Only for Berserker to hunt her constantly ever since.

Slowly feeling her emotions return, as she fights Berserker day in and out. Flecks of green in her eyes when she feels again.

Finding Erik.

More and more desperation, as her body starts to destroy her armor for Prana, the sword not being enough to feed her.

Not being able to attune herself enough to do anything with him.

Desperation.

Rage, hate and desperation. Self hatred, over all other things.

But the deepest feeling that she refuses to acknowledge, is fear. Fear of being alone. Fear of dying alone once more.

The fear that this is all a dream as she dies, cold and alone, having failed to save Shirou, and Rin, and everyone else. That nothing is more than just a dream, as she fades away...

“You’ve really had it rough, haven’t you, Arturia? Wait... did Illyasviel... really bleed to death?”


I snap awake.

For a moment, everything’s a blur, before my eyes clear up.

Not my Wolfen Mark 2. A castle’s interior…? Hmm. Then my body somehow survived?

Slowly, I put one hand to where I was run through, as I shake my head to force myself to think better. Distant fighting slowly reaches my ears from here.

“Arturia?”

“Didn’t I say to not do anything foolish!? Avalon’s been working to heal you, Erik. You can thank me later for using it to heal you!” The worry in her voice makes me smile a bit.

“I’ll thank you now, instead. Arturia Pendragon, thank you for saving my life with Avalon. I owe you my life.”

“Tch. Just get me back Avalon when you can. Ruby insisted that there’s nothing that can be done for Shirou or Illyasviel, unfortunately.” Her voice has hints of sadness, no matter how irritated she sounds...

“Gotcha. What are your prana levels like?” Slowly, I force myself up. Everything hurts, bad.

“Ruby is enhancing me, Master. So I’m staying stable at about 50%... however, she refuses to give me any more power without a contract. To be something called a… magical girl?” I almost snort at her telepathic words, before wincing at my gut aching.

“Yeah. She was made by someone who loves the genre. Think frilly outfits that almost look like formal gowns, but with usually short skirts. Ugh… I’m hurting bad, still. Not sure I can move right now. Sorry.”

“...Curious… why offer me this?” She sounds genuinely befuddled.


“Usually, those that use a Kaleidostick like her, have access to the Kaleidoscope. And tend to be able to draw, in some quantities, prana from the entire multiverse. There’s a hell of a lot of safety features, but if she wasn’t operating at a 2% draw for that sort of power right now, I’d have suggested you get in on that deal.” I flinch, leaning back quietly, doing my best to stay silent for the moment.

“Ah. And that would be all but overwhelming tactically! Now, if I could choose what outfits it put me in, perhaps that would do well?” I grin a bit at her words, then slowly breathe out.

“I’ve got an idea for how to help, but it may alert Herakles to me being alive. If you can lure him away from the castle…”

“Roger that, Erik. I’ll start immediately.” Her voice is clipped, now.

“One thing. Arturia? We need to talk when we next meet up.”

I can hear the battlefield moving away, and for a moment, I just breathe in pain.

Then, after I no longer hear fighting, I close my eyes to whisper.

“By the power of this Command Spell. Mordred, aid Nestor in guiding the Wolfen Mark 2 closer to my position. Far enough that it won’t be sucked into the singularity if it continues turning into something close to a black hole, but close enough so the Cosmoreactor can send prana here at 100% power.”

With those words, I close my eyes and rest, ignoring the pain as a new Command Spell etches into my right hand a few moments later.

“Any sign he heard me using a command spell to my other Servant, to get my ship closer to the singularity, Arturia?” I ask, as I slowly turn, forcing myself to my knees.

“Nothing. Why do that, Erik?”

“You’re getting prana from the Prototype Cosmoreactor in my real body. The closer it is, the more prana you should have access to. Unfortunately, it looks like the prototype mana reactor isn’t putting out enough power for me to notice it here. Or my other Servant is draining it all, without me being close.” I admit, slowly forcing myself up. Then I move over to the laser rifle, and start checking on it.

The scope’s trashed. The diamond used for the laser emitter? Looks to be shattered like glass, as well.

Damn. I genuinely can’t tell if it’s from me jury rigging it to work, and using a Charged Shot with this hastily cobbled together piece, or if it’s from damage and the hit I took.


I replace it, with one of the two diamonds I have left, and simply remove the scope, except for a tiny nub to use as a makeshift iron sight.

Then I lean back to rest, as I think, and listen.

[Kieran]

How about a change of pace, both from Erik's story and within my own - eh . . .?



Continuing . . .







Verbena National Academy
Koyo Town, Japan
May 1, 2003









After a year, Sion had to admit that she wasn’t entirely displeased about how circumstances had unfolded. Granted, having to attend high school in a different world entirely was unexpected and tedious, as was the invalidation of much of her magical knowledge—to say nothing of an abrupt and involuntary change of species—but . . .

Well, it was not what she’d expected when she’d gone looking for the White Princess of the True Ancestors, but it was a cure for vampirism, just the same.

As annoying as it is to have been used as a test case, I can hardly argue with the results—compared to being one of the Living Dead, spontaneously developing heterochromia is so minor an issue as to be unworthy of being called a complaint.

The world itself was fascinating; closer to the Age of the Gods than her own in terms of ease of use when it came to magecraft, and yet the “Gods” and “Devils” of the realm were much closer to humans than such beings who qualified for the title would be; and more faerie-like in appearance, as well. While there was a certain degree of overlap—Devils were still known for having red eyes, albeit inconsistently—the principles that guided the Order of this World were obviously quite different.

The part of Sion that was used to being right was annoyed at the upending of her world and invalidation of her knowledge base; the part of her that was a researcher was thrilled. Investigating an entirely new world’s magecraft from first principles . . .? The comparative studies alone could open up entirely new avenues of enquiry, never mind if any of it was replicable—!

She spent a brief moment being thankful that she’d chosen to trust those “Works” people, after all. As unorthodox and disorganised as they’d seemed, they clearly had some proficiency in their chosen field—the fact that no one questioned her identity was proof enough of that.

Then again, that “Rin” girl was introduced as the Kaleidoscope’s apprentice—perhaps it’s not so surprising that this was possible, for her . . .

As it was explained to her, Sion was sent to this world in a manner that would cause her existence to adapt to its physical laws and metaphysical properties. In essence, doing so would “cure” her vampirism because the realised concept of the condition did not exist here; vampirism as an overall concept did, but was strictly relegated to the realm of fiction (and unlike in her own world, fiction it remained). Instead, she would be “translated” into the closest equivalent this world had to a being of her supernatural properties: in this case, a “half-Devil”—though the “Devils” of this world seemingly had more in common with the faeries of her own, if she had to choose a Phantasmal Species of similar ilk.

In any case, unlike as when such hybridization occurred in her home reality, Sion remained biologically human, with no inherent genetic or psychological disorders as a result of her otherworldly parentage. Indeed, were it not for the aforementioned heterochromia including a red iris, one would likely be unable to tell her from a baseline human at all . . . Save that, unlike every such human on this world, she did have a talent for magic. Not much of one, granted—being all-but-wholly human in aspect apparently stunted that capacity prodigiously—but enough that her studies in alchemy (which humans could use to accomplish magical feats, unlike the innate powers of Gods and Devils) were more intuitive and effective.

In that sense, Sion acknowledged, the “translation” was apparently quite accurate. It at least represented her status as an alchemist as compared to an ordinary human, as well as her status as a prodigy within that field—almost no hybrids could use magic, to the best of her research—and the hybridization itself had already been discussed. And all of it had been done with a minimum of physical discomfort and adjustment on her part; it was astonishing, when compared to her own experiences with transfigurative processes.

Even more curiously, despite not actually being native to this world, there was no obvious response from any of its authorities—which, considering the existence of the “Gate” (actually “a rift in space-time,” according to what little she’d been able to find out) was odd. Surely, they had some experience with dimensional travelers, if not necessarily via the methods she used . . .? If not, one would assume that her arrival would cause detectable phenomena to whatever instruments monitored the Gate in the first place . . . And likewise, she had felt no pushback from this world’s equivalent of Gaia beyond the initial transformation, either.

The spokesperson for the Works had assured her that she could be entered such that “the world wouldn’t question it,” but apparently Sion had vastly overestimated the degree of hyperbole which had been involved in that statement. If she could work out the mechanics of how it was done, it might have significant effects on the development of magecraft as a whole—but sadly, the offhand reference to “being inspired by a sometime-colleague” did not grant her much of a foundation to build a hypothesis on. .

In the meantime, she had much to study as it was, and no better place to do so than Verbena National Academy, which was the premier school for such studies in this place and time. And the “Alchemy Club,” while admittedly a student group, had access to materials and activities that weren’t taught in the standard courses; and some of the students were quite insightful. One, in particular, had considerable amounts of Sion’s attention, though not for the reasons one might suppose. True, Rin Tsuchimi was intelligent, and insightful, as well as keenly interested in alchemy; and, she supposed, somewhat attractive to most teenagers of his ethnic type, at least. She wasn’t really experienced, or interested, enough to judge.

But he was also—to Sion’s much more experienced eye in such matters—a predator, pretending to be normal.

The disguise, she admitted, was very good. The excellent physical conditioning, the easy grace of his movements, the constant awareness of his environment—all of it could be explained by years of martial arts training and discipline, possibly by ex-military instructors. Which, to the best of her research, Rin Tsuchimi had—he was signed up for the school’s competitive karate team as a substitute, as well as the swim and track teams. And that, alone, raised alarm bells in Sion’s mind; to be good enough to be competitive in so many fields, but not good enough to make the regular team’s standards, far less win? It spoke of someone trying to hide their true capabilities . . .

But there was more to it than that; moments where his efforts were more than a high school student, however trained or conditioned, was capable of. He’d periodically displayed sudden bursts of strength, agility, reflexes and even awareness that, while they might pass by the average person as “flukes,” or a misunderstanding as to human limits (his in particular), were telling. They often emerged under stress or in moments where they could easily be written off as due to adrenaline, but were beyond even a child soldier’s expected capacity. But for someone using Reinforcement magecraft, on the other hand, or for a Phantasmal Creature . . .?

It wasn’t anything like demonic heritage; she’d checked his background, and he existed as a real human, complete with photographs, going back to his listed date of birth (the school’s computer security was remarkably lacklustre). Mentions in his medical file of a childhood injury that had led to needing resuscitation might have led to a case of possession, but there were no other symptoms . . . And more to the point, she couldn’t prove that such entities existed here, at all—the presence of “gods” and “devils” ought to have implied it, but she had yet to track down the origin of the naming scheme; and upon contact with members of each species, they most decidedly did not fit the common conception of such things.

(Nor had she managed to comprehend the reason for the preponderance of flora-based names in this area—though it did briefly amuse her that her name fell within its strictures, even if its etymology was actually based more upon the Hebrew “Zion” than the Japanese “shion.”)

Still, while he was undoubtedly more dangerous than his surface appearance suggested, Sion couldn’t say with complete certainty that he was an active threat. Most of the creatures that preyed upon humans, in her experience, were both more attractive and charismatic, or went to deliberate effort not to be noticed at all. Tsuchimi was neither utterly unremarkable, nor a natural at enticing people—which made him an anomaly according to the paradigm she understood. He was neither social nor antisocial enough to fit the pattern.

Further research on the subject was obviously required—particularly since, although she could not be certain, he seemed to exhibit similar mental enhancements, as well. And since this particular world did not accept her magecraft’s functionality, if there was a way to operate her mental partitioning as more than a merely psychological construct, she wanted to know it. She’d been working at sub-par operational functionality for the last year . . .!

As such, she watched him very carefully, while resolving to bring up the subject with her “case agent” at the Works during her next scheduled check-in—Sion regarded puzzles as being meant to be solved, after all.

And if the delay managed to let her pick his brain on the finer details of alchemy and the occult in this place in the process, well, no one had so much as implied that she couldn’t enjoy her work . . .








Avalon Castle, Phantasmagoria Island (Grail Works, Ltd. Headquarters)
Outside the boundaries of time and space









Ilya blinked in surprise. Then she checked her findings, and blinked again.

“Huh,” she said blankly, before calling out to Shirou, “Onii-chan, I found him—but you’re not going to believe WHERE . . .”








“. . . What on ear—scratch that,” Shirou cut himself off, realising how stupid it sounded in regards to parallel worlds. Instead, he asked, “How did he get there . . .?”

“I have no idea,” Ilya admitted, “but see?” She waved a hand, and brought up an image of a Japanese youth Shirou’s own age.

“This guy,” she explained, “occasionally gives off traces of energy that have the same pattern as he did—including the subtler traces. So there are either two ‘Lunar Exalts’ created by the elven pantheon of another cosmology entirely, or . . .”

“Or he’s taken on another identity,” Shirou finished. “ . . . Why there, though? I mean, wasn’t he in that ‘Servant Universe,’ before? What would connect those two places?”

“Aside from the fact that he’s connected to us, nothing,” Ilya admitted. “And I picked the place based on the information he left behind for us—it was noted as being a potential solution for Akiha-san’s problems with her heritage, as different-coloured eyes are fairly easy to hide.” His adopted sister shrugged. “Personally, I don’t mind red eyes, myself.”

“For your sake, I’d hope not,” Shirou observed, and she giggled.

“Anyways,” she continued, “it seemed like a good way to test the theory when Sion showed up—short of having her go full Dead Apostle, somehow, it couldn’t have made things worse. And she asked to be given a chance to study the place, given that it works at a much higher time rate—”

“It does?” Shirou said, alarmed.

“Yeah,” Ilya said. “Relative to us, Sion’s been through about a year in the last six hours . . .?”

“Meaning,” Shirou said tightly, “that if he actually appeared there when you lost contact, it’s been . . .?”

“Almost a decade,” she said, then looked frantic. “But maybe not, Onii-chan! The space-time rift they call a ‘Gate’ does more than just mess with their time relative to ours—it makes divining a pain, too! I could be reading something wrong . . . Look, now that I have his signature, I can work my way around it better; I’ll just scan back, and see if he pops out of the sky, or Exalts, or someth—”

The Grail spirit’s panicked attempts to reassure her brother that they hadn’t abandoned someone for nearly the length of time between the Fourth and Fifth Grail Wars was interrupted by a figure suddenly bursting through the air into reality.

Said figure was similar, in some ways, to Ilya; she was a foreign-looking girl garbed in white, with pale hair and a prepubescent figure. Unlike Ilya, however, she was wreathed in a visible, furious corona of magical power, radiating a menace that Ilya had needed Berserker’s presence to achieve. Her eyes, a deep violet to Ilya’s red, were nearly lambent as she demanded in diamond-hard tones, “Who are you, and what do you think you’re—”

Those violet eyes, which had been scanning the room, froze a heartbeat ahead of the words in her mouth. The movement was slight, but Shirou was close enough to see them widen, fractionally, since she was staring right at him.

“’Nii-chan . . .?”

Now it was Shirou’s turn to freeze—until his archery-trained eyes allowed him to follow her line of sight, and realise that no, she wasn’t staring at him . . .

After a beat of silence, the girl’s menacing aura disappeared, and in a much less hostile tone (almost embarrassed, in fact) she asked, “Ah—you people wouldn’t be ‘Grail Works, Limited,’ would you . . .?”








After a series of explanations over tea, the girl—now introduced as “Primula,” director of the agency assigned to monitor the space-time rift her world called “the Gate”—said, “Ah, so that’s how it was . . . My apologies.”

“You were just doing your job, Primula-san,” Shirou assured her, while mentally noting that the prior warnings about using caution and subtlety when observing and dealing with alternate universes were apparently wise—he’d never dreamed they might ever be able to be traced back . . .

Then again, apparently she was the most powerful representative of a species of godlike beings, running an agency specifically intended for such things, so maybe it shouldn’t have been so surprising.

“Nevertheless, I should have recognised you as soon as I entered,” she said, shamefaced. “He told me about you because he was worried that my mandate and yours might bring us into contact, and he wanted to avoid exactly this situation . . .”

She sighed, sagging for a moment, before covering her face with a long sip of tea. After that, she shook her head, sending her the ponytails at either side rippling with the movement.

“. . . So,” she said carefully, “where do we go from here?”

“Well,” Shirou said politely, “if it’s no trouble, we’d like to continue monitoring things; ultimately, we’re responsible for both your ‘onii-chan’ and Sion-san being there, after all—so we’d like to make certain that things go well for them. If it won’t disrupt your organisation’s operations, that is.”

“I’d wondered why she didn’t show up in any of the alternate worlds,” Primula muttered. “I ought to have guessed you were responsible, since he didn’t tell me about you in any of them either . . . But no—just monitoring shouldn’t be a problem. The Gate’s finicky, at times, but relatively stab—wait.” She sat bolt upright suddenly, and stared. “When, exactly, are you monitoring?”

“. . . Right now, it’s December, 2003,” Ilya reported after a moment.

Primula pulled out a very strange-looking cell phone, hit a button, and said into it, “There’s no problem with the anomaly; you can ignore it. And I’m cashing in my vacation time, starting now.”

Shirou had just enough time to make out a frantic “DIREC—!” from the other end of the connection before Primula hung up. Then she waved a hand, and a Western-style beanbag chair appeared, following by a dining table in the Japanese one, with Japanese tea things, but a covered dish in the Western style upon it, with appropriate utensils.

“Primula-san . . .?” Shirou asked uncertainly.

“I wasn’t there at the beginning,” Primula answered, “so I never saw everything—and I’m sure there were things I was never told about because I was ‘too young’ at the time. And none of the dramatisations ever got everything right.”

“Dramatisations . . .?” he repeated, still confused.

“In the first fifteen years, they made five video games, two anime series, at least one manga, and more drama CDs than I ever cared to count,” Primula said. “Not including the individual biographies, plays, films or ‘alternative history’ games . . .”

At their incredulous looks, she pointed out, “The whole situation was about a human that could’ve become the King of the Gods or the King of the Devils—and about the first generation of royals to build relationships with all three worlds, simultaneously. Of course it was going to generate public interest!”

. . . Put that way, Shirou found it hard to argue the point.

“And besides,” she added with a grin, “a lot of what happened is hilarious, from an outside perspective!”

“. . . It’s more than that, though,” Ilya said, after a moment. “Isn’t it, Primula-san? You miss them, don’t you?”

Shirou winced at the certainty in her voice, reminded once again of her isolated childhood—and then paused, reviewed the conversation in his head, and realised what Ilya had already caught on to.

“Primula-san . . .?” he asked carefully—knowing this was a minefield, but not precisely what kind. “Exactly how long ago was this, to you?”

The girl was silent, for a moment, her smile fading, and her eyes focussing on some distant scene only she could see . . . Then the smile returned, in a more wistful form.

“It was 100 years ago,” she admitted quietly, “but if I close my eyes, it still feels like yesterday . . .”

She sighed.

“Anyways,” she said, “I’m perfectly willing to feed myself, as you can see—I just want to watch.”

Shirou saw no reason to object to that, though he did have a question.

“What is that?” he asked, gesturing at the tray.

“The single greatest invention of the Human World,” Primula answered with utter certainty, lifting the cover, even as she named what was under it in the sort of reverent tone reserved for the holiest of holies.

“Strawberry cheesecake . . .”









Writer's Notes: Cheesecake is Primula's favourite food, apparently - and I admit to stealing one line of her dialogue from Episode 2 (which one should be fairly obvious . . .).