The Manhattan Project II

[Five_X]

... and now we've come full circle!

[Five_X]

I made a pretty picture to advertise this fanfiction!

[Five_X]

New chapter is here! It should be good, as I was listening to intense battle music while composing the second half of it.


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CHAPTER XI

Berserker's Master was asleep. Apparently the strain of keeping such a powerful Servant under control was too great even for an experienced magus. From the bestial grunts and seething, dark eyes, James could see that he was stronger, stronger than anyone in the Memorial. If he were to be unleashed he would certainly destroy the Servants on the other side of the Mall, but without extreme caution he would bring ruin to everything else in the area without question. Such madness was the cost of the ultimate power that he wielded. Whatever hero he was, in his enraged state he was far from whatever honour or valiance he may have had in life.


The Master who had summoned Aeneas himself was entirely uninterested in speaking with James. He had a noble air to him, as if the young James was too far below him to justify conversation. There was something off about him, though. He seemed envious, or even angered. He paid little attention to anything going on around in the Memorial, only glaring at Aeneas, his own Servant.


So, James ended up talking with a cheerful woman from Germany, whose Servant was the Archer standing beside her. She had been trying to start conversation with her Servant, but such efforts were only in vain as the Archer ignored her simple chatter and stared out at the National Mall, her supernaturally improved eyes piercing through the darkness.


“So you're also a Master in this war?” James asked the woman, only glancing briefly at the tall, distant looking Servant at her side.


She raised an eyebrow. “No, I'm just some girl who decided to show up here, is all.”


“Wait, really?” As a magus, James could never be sure when people were being serious or not, and this Manhattan Grail War only compounded the problem further.


“No, I am a Master, and this sadly dull Servant is the one I was so very lucky to have summoned. What do you want, anyways?” The woman placed her hand on her waist, not entirely amused with the situation, and keeping an air of seriousness despite her sarcasm.


James sighed. “I don't want anything, I'm just talking to people, trying to get to know them. I'm James, if you were wondering, Master of the girl over there talking to Aeneas.”


“Ah, learning about the weaknesses of your potential enemies?” She had a sly smile, bringing her hand up to cradle her chin, looking thoughtful. “Very well then. I'm Ilse, a magus from West Germany, and that's all I'm going to say.” She made a motion of zipping her lips shut, then crossed her arms, wondering if James had any more useless things to talk about.


“What brought you to this place, then? That's not too personal.” James pressed the conversation, as he noticed that Saber was still busy with Aeneas.


“Oh? My Servant and I came here not too long ago – chased in by a whole army.” Ilse grimaced at the thought.


James was intrigued by her mention of an army. The real question on his mind was whether or not the army was Hannibal's or Alexander's. If in the case of the former, this place was suddenly much less safe than James and Saber had thought it to be. “What did the army look like? ...It might sound strange, but were there any elephants on the field?”


Ilse shook her head. “No, nothing like that! Elephants, ha!” Her expression became darker. “No, we were brought into a reality marble, and we ran away as fast as we could. Eventually the whole army disappeared with the reality marble, and we were here, of all places. Very strange.” Yes, James thought, there was something eerie about that. Then again, Alexander was probably the type to consider an enemy's retreat a general victory, as long as few troops were lost.


“I think I fought the same army a while back.”


“What?” She looked sceptical. “How did you survive something like that? Surely your Servant is not powerful enough to single-handedly destroy ...that!”


“Well... I had a little help.” James looked sheepish as he realized that Ilse's view of the event was completely different than what had actually happened.


She scoffed. “What kind of help is that, exactly?”


“A friend of mine, his Servant summoned an army as well. And then there was an Archer, and a woman on a chariot. There was almost too much going on back there.”


His story interested Ilse, though she was certainly disappointed when he explained that the victory was far from decisive. If it weren't for the Archer, then victory would have more than likely been all but lost as soon as Alexander was able to flank Hannibal's main infantry line. That was the past, though, and this was a different night, with yet more Servants battling. Despite this makeshift alliance, eventually everyone present would have to discard their loyalties and fight one another.


“Sounds absolutely lovely, James. Now, it looks like somebody wants to talk with you; you'd best pay attention to her.”


“Master!” Saber called, waving for James to come over to where she was. Finally, she was done talking to Aeneas, who appeared to be explaining something to the rest of the Servants and Masters, but James didn't hear exactly what it was.


“Master, we must now prepare for the second attack.” She said, her armour suddenly materializing and replacing her regular clothing. “As Aeneas' Master has found, all three of the Servants are mobilizing. They must have seen our arrival as a challenge.”


James looked about the Lincoln Memorial's interior, and saw that the other Servants, save for the Berserker held back with chains, were preparing to fight the oncoming Servants. He had no idea how this battle would turn out, only that it would be a mass melee with more combatants than were necessary. He suddenly found himself dreading ever coming here, though Saber was at least partially to blame for rushing off to save Aeneas.


The battle was near at hand.

-- --

They came from beyond the Washington Monument, the three Servants striding valiantly to war. Their identities were unknown, but they carried themselves with such grace and courage that there was no doubt that they were mighty heroes of grand myths, now banded together to defeat their collected foes. Soon they were close enough that James with unaided eyes could see them, clad in old armour and wielding their weapons as if they had not once left their hands. They were warriors, through and through, and it would take the combined might of the force gathered at the Lincoln Memorial to stop their advance. It was as if those three Servants were laying siege to the Memorial, an impromptu castle.


Advancing to meet them was Aeneas, followed by Saber and the Archer, as well as their respective Masters. In a reverse triangle formation, with Aeneas and Saber out front and Archer in the rear, they stopped and waited in the shallow waters of the reflecting pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Despite the street lamps casting their strong glow on the water there were no visible reflections, only the shades of figures ahead, detailed by the streaming lights.


There was no turning back. A battle was inevitable, and even before swords clashed there were arrows in the night sky, invisible and deadly. The two Archers, one on each side, did not follow the mundane rules of combat, not firing just one arrow at a time. Three, four and even five shots flew in arcs over the heads of the melee combatants, who rushed towards each other for their grand struggle.


Sword clashed with sword and spear with spear, each weapon fighting its opposite as an equal in arms. Saber's eyes checked left at Aeneas just before she engaged a tall, bulky man whose muscles looked like they could grind down whole boulders with their sheer strength. His sword was of simple design, but it struck hard, nearly breaking Saber's arms with each swing. She was forced to block every hit with her rectangular shield, lest the huge man's sword tear through her as if she were made of nothing at all. He lacked finesse, certainly, but he had so much power in his blows that even one would tear nearly anyone in half. On top of that, it had enough reach to prevent Saber from closing in and hitting him with a decisive blow. In the end, this Servant outranked her in sheer fighting ability.


“If it must be so!” She yelled, dematerializing her shield and removing her ribbon from her hair, just as she had done in her battle with Blackbeard. As the ribbon floated gently on the surface of the water, a cape appeared around her shoulders, just as red as it had been before. James, looking on from inside the Lincoln Memorial, was awed at the splendour that she exuded with her cape fluttering behind her, scorching the very air with its heat.


It was then that the tide of the battle began to change, very slightly. Without a shield, Saber was forced to parry the fierce blows from her opponent with her blade and nothing more, stressing her to her utmost limits. Still, she had the tactical advantage. Flourishing her cape, the water at her feet was gushed forwards, so hot that it nearly evaporated instantly, but lasting long enough despite the winter cold that it seared the eyes of her foe. With a resulting cloud of steam providing at least simple cover for her, Saber rushed forward and slashed at the giant man's stomach, getting in a quick, deep cut. It hurt him and spewed his blood into the water of the reflecting pool, but it was not enough to kill him.


Saber, unlike her opponent, had the advantage of agility. After her first successful attack she rushed back and cut him in the hamstrings, almost making him drop to one knee. Afterwards, though, the man hardly faltered. He rushed at Saber like a beast, his speed beyond what his appearance would suggest. It was unavoidable. His sword came plunging down, the long edge of its blade aiming straight down to cut Saber straight in two. She raised her own sword, holding it firm in both hands, her legs tense and her feet grinding into the stone bottom of the pool.


The blade came down like a meteor.


There was no way that Saber wouldn't be pushed down and crushed by the sheer weight behind the strike, and she felt herself slipping down farther and farther, coming close to snapping her legs in twain. The only tactic she had was came with a serious risk, but since the only other option was death, she tried her best to pull it off.


She fell under the pressure of the attack, but instead of being pressed into the ground, she eased the blow and angled her body so that the mindless attack would push her between his tall, wide legs, making her swing out the other side ready to attack. Underneath him, she rolled forward slicing at the underside of his legs, then coming out behind him. The mighty Servant turned around too slowly.


Saber jammed her blade as deep as it could go into the back of his shin, aiming down. He let out a bloody howl of pain, which only intensified as Saber poured heat and flame into her sword. He was at her absolute mercy, and she showed him none whatsoever. With a leap, Saber landed on the back of the man, her left arm wrapped around his neck and her sword, raised high, aiming for his heart.


The blade struck true, and blood gushed forth into the once pristine waters. The Servant's skin was burnt so badly that it began to fall off in rough flakes, and as Saber's sword was wrenched farther and farther into his chest, he let out one last anguished cry before falling to his knees, then crashing to the ground, his bulk splashing water high into the air, steaming as it sprayed his skin. The light in his eyes was extinguished, and Saber drew her weapon from his corpse, a spurt of blood jumping out to follow it. She stepped off of the hulking body, and swung her sword to the side to clean the deep red blood from its blade.


As her back was turned, though, the monstrous man rose once more, his wounds healing in seconds. Immediately Saber sensed his presence once more, and was shocked motionless at the sight of him, his eyes filled anew with deep set rage.


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Dun dun DUN~! Stay tuned for the next chapter tomorrow, and in the meantime ogle my nice logo up there!

[Bloble]

Sweet!

This fic is awesome, because it gives the feel of an epic battle happening all around instead of one of secrecy. As well it's as if there is an entire war going on that doesn't revolve around James and Saber, and they're just a small part in it.
I also like that some Servants are just plain weaker than others.

[Five_X]

Thanks, I'm glad you like it!

The overall feel I was kind of going for was one more like Fate/Zero, where there's tons of action, compared to /Stay Night's emphasis on avoiding battles. Except, you know, cranked up to eleven with all the Servants.

And yes, some of the Servants really are weak or are in classes unsuited for them. At the same time, some of the Servants are specifically strong against some types of foes and not against others, sort of like Hannibal, who mostly relies on his army, something that doesn't work well against single Servants.

Oh, and has anyone guessed yet who Saber is fighting at the moment? I thought it would be fairly obvious by the end.

[Sherrinford]

I also like that some Servants are just plain weaker than others.

Me, not that much. It steals a little of the thrill.

sort of like Hannibal, who mostly relies on his army, something that doesn't work well against single Servants.

Shouldn't it be the opposite?

Oh, and has anyone guessed yet who Saber is fighting at the moment? I thought it would be fairly obvious by the end.

It is someone famous to have some kind of invulnerability. Achilles and Sigurd are the favorites of course, but aren't the only ones. Recently I found that Sir Gareth could be a possibility... just saying.

[Spinach]

Surviving being stabbed in the heart? If he were Sigurd or Achilles I figure the blade would just bounce off of his skin as if his body was made of metal. So, Herakles? Saber must have a really powerful sword if it was able to penetrate God Hand.

[Sherrinford]

Surviving being stabbed in the heart? If he were Sigurd or Achilles I figure the blade would just bounce off of his skin as if his body

Well, to do something different from a "God Hand with another name", Sigurd's invulnerability could be just "healing factor hax". And Achilles is said to be just invulnerable, which means all and nothing (it's open to inerpretations, anyway).

And I'm sure there are other heroes that can fit the description of "invulnerability". For all we know, the servants could be Arthur with Avalan equipped, lol.

The light in his eyes was extinguished,

... but yes, this line suggests that he died, or at least came close to it.

*shrugs*

[Spinach]

Time will tell. Throwing my lot in on the Herakles guess. The whole

she engaged a tall, bulky man whose muscles looked like they could grind down whole boulders with their sheer strength.

Sounds very Herakles to me.

[Sherrinford]

Tall, red-haired, muscular servant with a beard is exactly Alexander the Great.

Blonde, red-eyes and with a middle ages armor is Gilgamesh.

Blonde, turquoise eyes and female is King Arthur.

Blonde, green eyes and female is Nero.

Francis Drake is female.

Astolfo is a trap and Jack the Ripper a loli (*innocent whistling*)

... yep, no screwing with appearances in nasuverse, nope.







but yes, only time will tell.

[Five_X]

Fufufufufufufufu~

I'm not telling who it is, but some small bits of narration on Aeneas' battle may hint at who he is fighting. Coming in the next chapter, of course, though for the first part I'm planning on switching the narrative focus to somewhere else entirely.

[Sherrinford]

Five_X, you little devil...

When the next chapter~?

[Five_X]

Sometime in the afternoon or evening, depending on how motivated I am.

[Five_X]

Wow, this is late. Hopefully tomorrow's will be up much sooner than this one was... ugh. At least I didn't write it while I was completely unmotivated, though. It's a little short compared to some of the others, but oh well.

Oh, and remember how I said there would be more of the battle Saber's in? I LIED.


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CHAPTER XII

However, that was not the only event of the night. Nigel and Hannibal had taken to exploring Arlington. Like James and Saber, they had remained solo for their ventures, though they were heading in the exact opposite direction. In the early hours of the morning Arlington Boulevard, an artery running through the heart of Arlington, was all but silent, with few in any cars running through the area. That was good, Nigel thought. Even he had to respect the rule that no witnesses were allowed in this war. He and Hannibal walked down the side of the road, both looking around for any Servants. With any luck, their enemies could be sensed merely through their presence as highly magical beings. That, however, meant that Nigel and Hannibal were also targets, from almost any of the twenty-two remaining Servant and Master pairs. No one could tell what ancient and powerful heroes had been summoned, but Nigel did his best to think optimistically. He knew of great half-deities who could crush cities with a breath, single men who could rout the greatest of armies and their champions: much more than what even Hannibal could accomplish. There was little room for hope in this war.


“There's a Servant up ahead.” Hannibal said calmly, drawing his spear and shield.


Focusing his eyes and augmenting them with magic, Nigel too could see the speeding figure in front of them, rushing along the lanes of the boulevard. It was like a deep blue blur under the street lights, going in no particular direction but seeming to be coming eerily close to Nigel and Hannibal. Still, always it would back away at the last moment, returning to a fair distance where no details could be made out of the Servant, only that they were almost too fast to be seen. Most likely, a Rider or a Lancer. Nigel personally hoped for the latter, not wanting to face another army quite yet. Alexander had come far too close to defeating Hannibal, and without Saber or Archer nearby, another encounter with him would surely lead to ruin.


“Well, Hannibal, there's only one thing we can do: rush at them like madmen. Clever plan, eh?”


Hannibal looked at his Master, concerned. “What about your safety, Nigel? If we fight here, then it's very possible that the Servant will run past me and attack you.”


“I may be an old man, but I'm not that old.” Nigel said, smirking. “Don't worry about me. I can fend off a Servant for at least a few seconds, and in that space of time you should be able to aid me.”


His Servant nodded, and they both began running toward whoever was evading them on the boulevard ahead. They were looking for a fight, and were more than prepared to win.


A sharp turn. The blue figure up ahead moved to intercept Hannibal.


Neither Servant stopped moving to avoid the inevitable clash to come, and Hannibal's spear was met with another, red and with a texture like bloody vines crawling across it. The Servant in blue was fast, but he didn't have a shield, instead grasping his spear with both hands and making rapid jabs that were rendered harmless by Hannibal's thick, round shield. Not a single dent appeared in it.


His foe's strikes were truly like red lightning, nearly impossible to see. This Servant fought with tenacity and a veritable lust for battle that made an enemy Hannibal was honoured to fight. In fact, the two men had smiles on their faces as they fought with spears ringing out in the crisp night air.


“Ha!” Hannibal cried, stepping aside to avoid a low thrust from the spearman, and countering with a swinging slice of his shield, aimed for the man's face. He ducked and the swing went wide over him, almost breaking Hannibal's balance enough to allow a strike directly into his chest.


He wasn't that thoughtless. His body crashed down to avoid any of the spearman's blows, and he tried for a low cut. It missed as Hannibal's opponent jumped back, bringing a distance between them once again, and they stared each other down, enjoying the rush of battle.


In the background, Nigel had the radio Ardem had lent to him, speaking to the man himself. As expected he was awake and ready to send out Archer to Arlington Boulevard to aid in the fight. Nigel put the radio back in a pocket of his aged fur coat, and smiled. All there was left was for Hannibal to last as long as possible against this Servant. As it seemed, neither of the combatants had an advantage over the other, though it appeared to Nigel that they weren't fighting all out and instead just enjoying the fight. While most other Masters would find this irrelevant and frustrating, Nigel crossed his arms and enjoyed the spectacle. This war wouldn't last forever, so he had to make sure it would be a strong memory in his mind for the future, when he told its story.


Hannibal was holding his ground reasonably well against the spearman. The fight had begun to escalate, yet neither side had any advantage. The spearman kept on the offence, with little defence other than dodging, which could always fail at the worst times. Hannibal, on the other hand, held strong with his shield, trying to get in whatever strikes he could. Not a single hit had been landed on either Servant over the course of the battle so far. It was a stalemate in every sense of the word, and looked as if either side was waiting for the other to tire before closing on them.


“Who are you, spearman? You fight well.” Hannibal asked in the middle of the battle.


“They call me the Light of Ireland!” The spearman yelled, emphasis on the last syllables as he put his weight behind a heavy blow that was deflected at an angle off of Hannibal's shield.


Hannibal laughed. “Oh? They call me the Scourge of Rome!” The tip of his weapon came close to striking home, but was pushed to the side at the last moment.


“Were you a Scourge for Rome or against?”


“Against, of course! That's certainly an important detail, isn't it?” No matter what Hannibal did, all of his attacks were predicted in advance by the blue Servant and dodged or knocked aside.


Even the spearman could tell that this battle was going nowhere. “Shall we end this, then? I've got a feelin' nobody's gonna win if we keep this up.”


Hannibal nodded in mid-combat, not pausing even once as he held his shield to the side to open up room for him to let loose a flurry of rapid spear strikes. It, too, was to no avail, and the two fighters jumped back from one another, ready to begin the final round of their bloodless duel.


But, it soon was a duel no longer.


From a far-off rooftop came an arrow, then another, both spiralling through the air silently towards the blue Servant, who with the distance the archer was at, was merely a speck on the dark ground. The fight would be over in seconds with those two projectiles, specifically aimed for the Servant's heart and head, made with impeccable precision. The archer watched his twin arrows go forth, his cape fluttering heavily in the strong rooftop winds.


As they passed, low flying, above the road where the two Servants commenced their fight, both arrows were suddenly and violently ripped from their predicted trajectory by monstrous, black vines tearing through the asphalt of the boulevard. The arrows were not snapped apart, but merely caught and thrown to the ground, harmless.


The archer was annoyed. He nocked two more arrows simultaneously, and infused them with yet more of his magic. He could not miss this shot.


As he pulled the bowstring back with all his might, a shadow came into existence on the flat roof beside him, morphing into the figure of a human as grains of black sand floating in the wind.


Sheer magical power cracked at the tips of the archer's arrows, and without delay he wheeled around to his right and loosed his missiles as the new presence. They struck, throwing the person back and pinning them to the ground. They disappeared just as they had arrived, but then reformed.


It was a woman, or at least looked to be, with a flowing black robe decorated with dead forest leaves. On her head was a wide brimmed, dark red hat and in her hand, almost like a staff, was a menacing ruddy coloured spear, its blade clean and fresh. It had not yet tasted blood this night.


She looked at the archer, licking her lips, and prepared a ball of magical energy in her off hand. It glittered, but not with any kind of light: instead, the lamps along the edge of the roof seemed to be blurred toward the ball, as if it were some kind of void of nothing but pure shadow. Her strides were long and confident, showing her legs with each step. For the moment, Archer couldn't help his allies on the ground, and so Nigel stood in confusion, watching the battle of the two spearmen, with their previous limits broken by mutual agreement.


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Archer is going to be nearly impossible for you guys to guess at, honestly. He's not a well known hero except for in something like one part of the world. All I'll say is that he's really old and really tough.

Funny story, too: the idea for this chapter came from (literally) pulling names out of a hat. I wrote the true names of all the Servants on a piece of paper, cut it cup, and put it in a hat. I shook it around, and pulled slips of paper out.

I knew I wanted to focus again on Hannibal, so I pulled names out of the hat. I first picked out [DATA REMOVED] (Archer), then two that wouldn't work since they were either fighting Saber or had already appeared recently. Then I pulled out [DATA REMOVED] (Lancer), and I was like, "This makes too much sense. I must write it."

And that's how this chapter was written. I hope you enjoyed it, and I do hope to see all of your wild mass guesses as to Servant identities, be it one of the two new Servants, or Archer.

[Spinach]

Shadows? A woman? Red spear? Magic? Fighting on Lancer/Cu Chulainn's side? Scathach? Throwing out my guess.

[Five_X]

I don't even know what you're trying to guess! :S

[Spinach]

The woman who stopped Archer from assisting Hannibal with fighting Cu Chulainn.

[Bloble]

CUCHULAINN as Lancer and Scathach as Caster helping him out.

No idea what the Archer is.

And my respect for Hannibal has just gone up for him being able to keep up with Lancer.

[Five_X]

Yes, it's Cu Chulainn and Scathach, good guesses. I was pretty sure it would be pretty obvious, especially with the "Light of Ireland" thing and all. And Scathach, too, 'cause Lancer's there.

If it sparks any interest, Lancer is actually Scathach's Servant here.

[Spinach]

That.. is kind of awesome. Thinks just got three times cooler. So, will she keep it canon and be like a hardcore Rin?