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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Prologue
Get to the shed.I know.
You must get to the shed.
I know!
You will die unless you get to the shed
Dammit, I know, already!!
You will be gutted like a pig, just like a few hours ago--
Shut up!!!
My heart feels like it's in my throat, ready to jump out of my mouth at any second. The man with the spear will soon catch up to me. It takes all my nerves to not scream aloud in sheer terror. I can't let myself die here. No--I won't.I haven't been given the chance to live on for the sakes of all those who died ten years ago just to be senselessly killed here, having accomplished nothing. I haven't come all this way, having inherited my father's dream of becoming a superhero just to be stopped here, before I could make a difference. So I run. The shed is the only place where I may have a fighting chance--where I can find a weapon.
This isn't the time for thinking. I should only concentrate on getting to the shed. Nothing else.
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Emiya Shirou is knocked back into the shed. The reinforced poster is flung far from his grasp, though it mattered little if he still held it. It was far too battered and mangled by the red spear's relentless onslaught to be considered a proper method of defense anymore. The blue warrior steps forward, spear at the boy's chest. "For a lad, you put up a good fight--but orders are orders. Curse your own fate for placing you here, boy." He said with an unusually cavalier tone, give the current situation. The red-haired youth could only grit his teeth as he stared down the tip of the lance, knowing full well he was about to be killed, just as he was earlier in the day. But he refused to allow death to claim him. He could not fulfill his obligation--his obligation to himself, to those who died in the disaster, and to his father--if he died there. So, in one final, desperate, defiant cry, he uttered, "Dammit, I won't..."
Be killed meaninglessly...
By someone like you!!
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a blinding flash of light appears in front of the boy, surprising the blue knight as a force of wind blew him out of the shed. "Are you kidding me?!" Lancer bellowed as he retreated back into the open, "The Seventh Servant?!" Inside the shed, the boy opened his eyes. What he sees before him leaves him speechless.
Standing in front of him, facing outside the shed's entrance, a colossal, practically ridiculously muscle-bound man wearing tattered clothing faces the assailant which intended to take his life. The lad could only look in awe at the man's massive back, a mane of dark brunette hair resting atop a form which could easily stand a full two to three heads above his own at full height. The figure turned to face Emiya Shirou, showing the boy a complexion as cold and unmoving as a mountain, yet set with eyes that seemed to mirror a gentle, tender soul. In a voice as deep and moving as grating iron, the giant of a man asked the flabbergasted boy,
"Are you my Master?"
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"Huh... Mas...ter...?" Is all the boy could muster, so bewildered and overwhelmed by this utterly unbelievable man. This man who saved him. Nothing the boy could possibly imagine could describe him.
No. There was something he knew. One word--and only one word--which could possibly describe the titan before him. He was a Superhero. His ideal. His dream. His goal. He seemed everything he aspired to be. Brave. Strong. True. Unwavering. It seemed too amazing, too awe-inspiring, to be real. Everything, even the fear of death which, just moments before, held him in a vise-like grip, was gone. He almost seemed to forget the assassin outside, the prospect of him coming back almost not registering in his mind.
Noting the mark on the boy's hand, the Heroic Spirit Kenshiro, Assassin of the Fifth Grail War, nodded, realizing the boy had, indeed, summoned him. Therefore, he replied in his voice of iron, "I have answered your call, young one. From now on, I will act as your shield, and my fate will be bound to yours." He allowed the boy a moment to take those words in, though he seemed too stunned to respond.
"Thus, our contract is complete."
"Wait, contract...?!" The boy utterered, but the figure before him turned back towards the shed's entrance, approaching the blue warrior outside with utter calm and silence. The boy followed the man outside, though he had no idea how his savior would fight a man like the one with the spear.
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"Hoo?" Lancer inhaled with a tone of heightened interest, a grin forming on his face. "I didn't expect to find something like this. The seventh Servant belonging to a boy like that--?!" He charged at the figure approaching him, thrusting his spear with lightning speed.
Kenshiro dodged the lance with reflexes honed from years of training and experience, all the while maintaining his expression of an utterly stoic complexion. He replied even as the spear was thrust against him, "That boy is of no threat to you. Leave now, and your life will be spared, Lancer."
"Rules are rules." Lancer replied with a smirk as he thrust his weapon. "That boy saw what he was not supposed to see. Well, considering he's a Master, I guess that argument's irrelevant, eh?!"
He thrust at Assassin, who seemed to dodge his blows with relative ease. "You really think you can beat me with just your fists, do you? Judging from your evasive tactics and the fact all the other Servants have been summoned, I wager you're Assassin, right?" Kenshiro merely stared at the man, having widening the distance between them, and taking up a defensive stance. Lancer seemed to bark a laugh. "Well, you sure are faster than most. I see no problem eliminating the weakest Servant and Master before they can cause trouble."
"Then you've already sealed your fate," Kenshirou replied coldly. "As long as I'm here, that boy is my responsibility. If you wish to kill him..." He said as his eyes took on a look of such a perfect duality of tranquility and fury, it unnerved Lancer for a moment, "Then you'll die here."
Lancer, regaining composure, knew that the man had killing intent radiating from his form. His grin returning with an almost psychotic quality to it, he yelled, "I like that! Since you're that cock-sure you'll beat me, how about dodging this?!"
Lancer charged his foe once more, roaring with a blood-lusting expression. Keshiro likewise dashed headlong at his enemy, though with none of the hot-blooded tendency of his foe. Lancer thrust his spear once more at the man, aiming for his heart--but before his spear could reach, Assassin swerved out of the way and struck with such speed and precision, it outmatched even Lancer's; Striking him in the shoulder with the tips of his left hand's fingers, Assassin uttered,
"Hokuto: Koretsu Ha!" (North Star: Steel-Rending Grasp!)
Instantaneously, Lancer's shoulder violently spasmed with such force, the sinews and bone of his shoulder were crushed. Roaring in pain, Lancer pulled back, grasping his bloody shoulder, barring his teeth like a hound and growling. "Damn, what the hell sort of trick was that?!" He barked through the pain, panting. "You have some nasty tricks up your sleeve, Assassin!"
"It was your mistake for underestimating me, Lancer. You are lucky I did not strike your vital point as I could have, or you'd already be dead.
"I will give you one last chance to escape with your life here. Either choose to live to fight the War another day, or die like a dog here." Assassin said with his cold-iron voice. Lancer clutched his ruptured shoulder, knowing full well he'd need days to recover. He may have loved a good fight, but he had wasted far too much time and was risking far too much to continue.
"Tch." He cursed. "I'll be back, Assassin! Next time, I'll rip off your head and spit down your neck!" And, with that, he leaped into the darkness.
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Emiya Shirou could still not believe it. The warrior called Assassin--the hero who had saved him--had handily defeated the figure whom he had stood no chance against. Though his cloths were in some places ripped by the lance, not a single strike has hit the man's body, if the lack of blood or wounds was any indication. "Who..." he managed to utter, approaching the man with a sense of amazement. The figure turned to face him, approaching him likewise until they were arm's length from one another. "Who are you...?"
The man simply replied, "My name is of little importance... But my title is of the Assassin Class of Servants, Master."
Shirou blinked. "Will you please stop calling me that? It's awkward... especially since your practically twice my size."
"Alright," Assassin replied simply, "Then what shall I call you?"
"By my name--Emiya Shirou... well, just call me Shirou, please." The youth flustered somewhat, embarrassed.
"Then I will call you Shirou. Since you gave your name to me, I will give you mine--"
"I wouldn't really do that, Assassin." Came the voice of a calm, collected from the entrance of the complex, where the figure of a young woman appeared from the doorway, accompanied by a man clad in red and black armor. Emiya and his Servant turned towards the source of the voice, registering a look of surprise and confusion on Shirou's face. "He may be your Master, but I don't think it wise to just casually give your name away. It could reveal your weakness." Approaching them was a girl around Shirou's age, a gorgeous flow of raven-black hair fluttering in the winter wind, beset with a set of pigtails on either side of her head, her eyes a pair of aquamarine gems in the night.
"Tohsaka?!" Shirou exclaimed.
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Originally Posted by NamesAreHardToComeUpWith
Besides, I'm a newbie. It's your job as vets to beat me into shape.
