Interlude:
Watcher
The wetland mansion.
Time rewinds to when the King of Heroes faced the mystery bowman.
The Heroic Spirits summoned for the Holy Grail War are, fundamentally, divided into seven classes: Saber, Archer, Lancer, Caster, Rider, Assassin, and Berserker. It is said, however, that an "Extra Class," corresponding to none of these, is very occasionally summoned. Records remain to testify that a Heroic Spirit belonging to a class called "Avenger" was actually summoned in the third Fuyuki Grail War.
Sigma, seated in a study chair on the ground floor of the mansion, had been apprised of this information.
"So?" He asked. "Is this 'Watcher' an Extra Class?"
A "shadow" — the boy with wings attached to his back — appeared to answer Sigma's question.
"Not exactly. Under the Fuyuki system, an Extra Class never replaces one of the three knights. Going by the remaining phases, the Servant meant to fight in the Holy Grail War must be Lancer. Only you, not the Heroic Spirit, will be that Lancer. What you called forth is a lookout, and an obstacle you must overcome to become Lancer while living."
"I know what your words mean. I've slept and thought them over again since you told me this morning, but I can't accept that answer. A human becoming Lancer doesn't even make sense."
Sigma dispassionately stated his opinion.
"We never expected you to start with a nap, either. Well, it's this whole Grail War that doesn't make sense. If we manifested as a proper Extra Class — although it's odd to talk about an Extra Class being 'proper' — we'd probably manifest as 'Gatekeeper,'" the shadow replied in the form of the boy with the serpent staff.
"Although it's doubtful whether the rule that one of the three knights can't become an Extra Class applies. As 'shadows,' we've received a certain degree of information concerning this War from the Grail, but that information is based on the original Fuyuki rules. This Snowfield Grail War is too much of a departure."
"It is a fake; these things happen," Sigma easily assented with a shrug.
"The 'Watcher' you summoned," the shadow continued, "has already started observing this city. And apparently it's already spotted a tear."
"What do you mean?"
"The Heroic Spirit that was supposed to be summoned as Archer, one of the three knights, has been transmuted into the Extra Class Avenger, and things that should never have been summoned has crept into this land, drawn to each other."
At that point the child vanished, and the "captain" appeared in a corner, leaning on a cane.
"Yes, I can feel a presence like to my own out toward the ravine..."
"What do you mean, 'like your own'?"
"A nostalgic scent that makes my blood boil. I feel pure rage bubbling up from my very bowels. Oh, if I had been summoned as a proper Heroic Spirit, I would have manifested not as a rider, but as a class founded on vengeance. I cannot but regret that I am not — that I am here as
its shadow."
The emotion gradually vanished from the words, and Sigma sensed the eerie dynamism roiling like cold magma at their bottom, but he made no attempt to pursue the conversation. The self-proclaimed shadows occasionally spoke to him of regret or hatred, but he took no interest in any of it. It did not seem likely to furnish a clue to the true name of the Heroic Spirit he had summoned, so his policy was to act as if he did not hear it.
But, perhaps owing to his inborn nature, or to the special training he had undergone since infancy, every word that reached his ears was faithfully recorded in his brain. Even words he meant to ignore.
Nevertheless, he could not go on listening to the shadows grumble forever. Sigma put together what little he had gleaned from the earlier conversation, and decided to pose them a question.
"In short, you objectively observe the Holy Grail War in this city... Is that correct?"
"Not us; the thing you summoned... to be precise."
X X
Somewhere in the city. Dumas' study.
"...Since this morning, I've been getting a weird feeling that I'm being watched."
Caster — Alexandre Dumas père — cocked his head to the side and glanced around. He was in the room that had been allotted to him, "revising" the hydra-venom dagger.
Everything looked as usual. He saw the countless bookshelves and mountains of books, the numerous different dishes and snacks arranged on the table, the notebook computer connected to the internet, the wired telephone in an old-fashioned design.
But something was different. He felt uneasy, as if the quality of the space itself had changed.
Dumas flashed his teeth in a broad grin and merrily resumed his work.
"Well, who cares? Everything's better with an audience."
Merrily, merrily, as if to declare that even accident was one of the charms of the drama.
"I'd be damned if I took in an extravaganza this huge on my lonesome! Ha ha!"
X X
The wetland mansion.
"Then tell me, what do I look like from your point of view?"
A sudden surge of curiosity prompted Sigma to question the shadows.
Sigma had never pondered his own identity. He was as little interested in himself as he was in events in the wider world. He did not even know his own precise age. He was often taken for being in his late teens, but he had a feeling he had stopped growing and aging several years earlier.
"Those wannabes fiddled with your body too much back when you were a child soldier," his employer had jibed. "I guess your life span's probably shorter than a normal person's. Like, you'll be young for a long time, but when your time comes you'll age rapidly, and that's all she wrote."
She was probably right, but he did not care. He knew that, given his line of work, his chances of dying of old age were extremely slim.
He was, however, interested in what he was.
Sigma did not believe in gods or Buddhas. The moment he became a participant in the Holy Grail War, he realized the existence of "powers" far beyond him. That understanding did not, of course, mean that he put any faith in them.
Sigma merely wanted to know what one of those great powers thought of him. It would probably say that he was trash, or that he might as well not exist. He expected it to conclude that his life had no value, but he still had to ask. He had no intention of complying if it told him to die, but if it told him that his existence was meaningless, Sigma would not have been able to substantiate a rebuttal.
While Sigma was thinking all of that, the child with the serpent staff was shaking his head with a troubled expression.
"Sorry, but Watcher can't see into the past. It's only been observing events since the moment it was summoned. So, as far as Watcher is concerned, you aren't anyone yet."
"There's no 'yet'; I'm going to go on being nobody."
"I wonder. That means you could become anyone. And if you obtain the Grail, you could gain power to rival Heroic Spirits."
The Holy Grail, omnipotent granter of wishes. Sigma pondered again what he would do if he did obtain it. As before, however, no wish for such an exalted artifact occurred to him.
"...I wonder... If I did get the Grail, could I have more ordinary dreams? Dreams as in aspirations, not the kind you see at night," Sigma explained disjointedly.
"Oh, that's a good idea!" The child with the serpent staff assented brightly. "Yes, I'm sure you could dream, if you got the Grail. Just like Watcher goes on observing reality."
"The ability to observe what happens in the city... I bet a normal Servant could win the Grail War easily with that."
"Precisely, boy! I see you've finally put it together."
The Captain flashed a wicked grin.
"Indeed, if the other participants were to learn of your ability, they would fight to claim you before going after the Grail!"
"...What?"
Sigma furrowed his brows slightly. He considered for a moment and realized that what the Captain said made sense.
"I see. At present, I'm effectively a
resource."
"You're a one-of-a-kind resource dropped smack in the middle of the battlefield, boy. The struggle to claim you will be a fierce one."
"I don't mind. I just don't want to get dragged into it and die."
He might not have dreams, but he disliked pain and he did not want to die or to starve. Sigma considered his best course to fulfill those minimal desires.
"Then get stronger," the boy with wings on his back told him with a kind smile. "If you don't want to get dragged in, join the side that drags others in."
"Don't be unreasonable. Even my employer is a crazy mage."
"Overcome your obstacles. Watcher will keep giving you trials you may well call unreasonable. Overcome them and, little by little, you'll become somebody. You won't be just Soldier A anymore."
Sigma considered the winged boy's words for a moment, still expressionless. Then, for the first time, he decided to disagree. It was a modest first step toward declaring his intent to escape death.
"I'm not Soldier A;
"I'm... Σ."
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Originally Posted by Sandstorm77
