Notes: Can't believe it's been a whole month. Where does the time go?

Oathkeepers
A Fate Series Fusion by
Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)
Chapter 5: For My Master

Sakura's first few hours back in the real world felt amazingly like studying for a test.

Matou insisted that they review everything she had done while Sakura was away, so that the switch would be as close to flawless as possible. But then, calling it a switch was not quite accurate. Sakura got the very distinct impression that Matou was not done pretending to be Sakura Matou. And, if Sakura were totally honest, she wasn't ready to be Sakura Matou yet, either. Or rather, she had never wanted to be Sakura Matou in the first place, and certainly didn't want it now.

If there was a way for Sakura to live with Rin, while Matou kept living with the Matous, that would be much more ideal for them both. And that was not an exaggeration: Matou genuinely seemed to enjoy life as one of the Matous. If the unnaturally wide grin she displayed when speaking of them was anything to go by, at least.

Sakura was absolutely shocked and disgusted by some of the things that Matou had endured over the years, but every time she tried to apologize, Matou only brushed it off impatiently, and continued talking. It was unnerving, how such awful treatment either didn't phase Matou, or gave her great pleasure.

Also of great concern to Sakura was the way in which Matou had been conducting herself, in private, with both Kiritsugu and Rin. Though Matou claimed there was no need for Sakura to keep up the act in either case, obviously the difference would be immediately noticed when Sakura failed to behave as Matou had. There was no reason to continue the intimate relationship with Kiritsugu, at least, and he might even be relieved. But from how Matou described it, Rin was not only accustomed to her sister being overly physically affectionate, but rather enjoyed it herself. So Sakura suddenly ceasing that trend would be less suspicious and more upsetting to Rin than anything else.

Still, Sakura reminded herself over and over again: Matou was her savior. Her protector. The one person (or person-shaped entity, anyway) who had prevented any harm from reaching Sakura for years. Sakura may not have liked every aspect of the way Matou had done that, but it didn't change the fact that Matou had done it all for Sakura. And Sakura was grateful, extremely so.

So when Matou finished her report, Sakura nodded, gently slipped her arms around Matou's neck, and gave her a big hug. It took several, awkward seconds for Matou to return the hug.

"Thank you, Matou," Sakura whispered, pressing her face into Matou's shoulder. "For everything."

A hand slowly crept up to stroke Sakura's hair. "You are very welcome, Sakura Tohsaka. It was my pleasure." And that was very clear. The Matous had some very unique and fascinating means of torture. She had never been bored with them.

"What happens now?" Sakura asked.

"In the morning," Matou answered, "you will go to school, and be reunited with your sister."

"But, what about Shin... I mean, nii-san? I'll have to see him at breakfast, won't I?"

Matou smirked. "Trust me, he won't bother you."

Sakura hesitated. "And... nee-san will be expecting me to make up with her?"

"Expecting, no. Hoping, yes. I assume you don't want to continue 'fighting' with her?"

"Is that a problem?"

Matou shook her head. "There is no reason not to make up with her. She is our ally."

Sakura was very relieved to hear that. "And Shirou? You haven't really given me much idea what to expect from him."

"Because he will have changed the most, no doubt. At our last contact, he promised to be much stronger the next time we met. I believe he will keep his word. You may rely on him, if you wish."

"What about you, Matou? What will you be doing?"

"I will remain here. The Matou family still serves a purpose for me. But there is one last thing we must address, to make the ruse complete." Matou turned Sakura toward the mirror. "You see it, yes?"

Sakura nodded, frowning. That faint streak of white, which first appeared in her brown hair on the night the Matous had nearly tainted her, had grown more defined over the years. There was nothing faint about it now. Yet it was not the streak, but the entirely different hair colors, that would be the issue now.

"A simple glamour will conceal the truth," Matou said. "Unless you would rather dye it."

"No." Sakura turned to face Matou, a firm expression on her face. "There's another way. A permanent way."

"Absolutely not," Matou responded at once. "The entire point was to keep you pure-"

"I will be, if it's you, instead of them."

The ridiculousness of that statement was such that Matou nearly replied without thought. But she caught herself, sighed, and shook her head. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. I trust you."

"Clearly." Matou closed her eyes, thinking for a moment. "Fine. A small transfer should be safe enough. But if you experience any negative symptoms, no matter how small, you must alert me at once."

"Okay," Sakura agreed.

"You would really go this far, just to change your hair?"

Sakura frowned. "You should know this isn't just about that. You said we were partners. Then we should share the burden."

"This is not a burden that a typical human can carry," Matou warned.

Sakura smirked. "I'm not typical. I'm a Tohsaka."

Shirou left Sisigou's house that morning early enough where a direct path, at a bit of a run, would have gotten him to school a few minutes before his first class began.

However, he ran into an old man listening to a radio. Which was by no means fascinating. Although, the news story about increased missing persons cases and gruesome murders in the area was. Shirou had never really thought of it as a place that was more dangerous than any other, but suddenly, he didn't like the idea of how frequently Sakura walked the streets alone. He made a mental note to ask her why she no longer had one of the Matou henchmen drive her around.

But as Shirou turned to leave, he saw her: the little girl with the stricken look on her face as she, too, absorbed the news that their streets weren't all that safe. And when she caught Shirou staring at her, she gasped loudly, turned, and fled, possibly mistaking him for a related threat.

If asked, Shirou could not explain why he felt he need to follow her. It wasn't to correct her mistake, and it wasn't even because he was worried about her. It was something deeper, more instinctive: he had to follow her. So he did. And had he been paying closer attention, he might have noticed the old man quickly phoning the police, having come to the same mistaken conclusion that he had just witnessed something criminal.

The girl ran into a dead-end alley and hunched down, keeping her eyes on the ground.

Shirou had just started to reach for her shoulder when something heavy crashed into him from above, driving him hard enough into the ground to crack the pavement beneath him. And from the sharp pains Shirou began to feel soon after, other things had been cracked, as well.

"Stop!" the girl cried, and Shirou immediately felt the weight leave his back, but the damage had already been done. Her soft, sad eyes peered down at him with genuine regret. "I wish you hadn't followed me. There's only so much I can do for you now." She lightly placed her hand on his cheek. "Sleep," she whispered.

Shirou stared at her, in far too much pain to do anything but feel it. How he wished he could escape into sleep, but that seemed impossible at the moment.

The girl frowned. "Sleep," she repeated.

Shirou opened his mouth to explain that he couldn't sleep, but all that came out was a weak groan.

"Sleep!" the girl insisted, and this time Shirou felt as if someone had draped a blanket over his entire body. He was asleep in seconds.

She slowly stood up, staring down at him in concern. "For a human to resist my voice even that much, he might be a potential Master. It would be best to get rid of him. But that isn't who we are anymore." But then, she hesitated. "Still, he is already asleep, and he does have a little mana to spare. More than an average human would. Parting with some won't hurt him too much. And he's going to be our guest for a bit longer, regardless. We can't afford to waste such opportunities. You may sample him, Berserker, but don't kill him. I could see in his eyes that his intent was pure. Such a thing should be rewarded."

And so it was: Shirou woke up two hours later just outside his school, with no memory of how he got there. Nor could he explain why he felt so tired, the slight ache in his back, or the two strange puncture marks high on his throat. He vaguely recalled an old man with a radio, but nothing after that.

Rin was in high spirits when she arrived at school. So much so that she actively engaged Mitsuzuri in casual conversation for almost ten minutes, something she normally saved for private moments. Rin didn't want to give the public impression that she was too approachable, otherwise there would be no end to the suitors who thought they could just walk up and proposition her. Frankly, there were times when Rin worried that she had made herself too welcoming to some girls, as most were not as intimidated by her as boys were.

But such concerns faded, the moment Rin spotted Sakura hurrying toward the school. Rin did not even bother to end her talk with Mitsuzuri, nor explain the abrupt dismissal. But, as one of several who witnessed what happened next, Mitsuzuri never felt the need to demand an apology.

The two estranged sisters approached each other, but stopped a respectable distance away.

"Sakura," Rin began hesitantly. "I'm so sorry about what I said to you. It wasn't my-"

"Please, forget it, nee-san," Sakura said. "I love that you worry about me. Just try to do it a little less from now on."

"I can try. But you know I could never promise that."

"Which is why I'll never waste my breath asking you to. Anyway, I need to apologize to you, too."

Rin blinked in surprise. "For what?"

Sakura beamed. "Your reputation as the unapproachable Tohsaka is about to be shattered."

And before Rin could react, Sakura flung herself at her sister, and gave her a huge hug. Rin only minded for an instant, but then she was embracing Sakura tightly, just happy they weren't fighting anymore. The other students would talk, but Rin didn't care. None of them had an evil mage family threatening to take away their siblings. Their uninformed opinions simply didn't matter to her. Anyway, anyone who truly knew her would know how important family was to her. And Rin didn't see any way she would be able to deny her connection to Sakura now. Not that she ever had before, she simply hadn't told the whole truth. Most of her friends were under the impression that she and Sakura were childhood friends who had grown apart, and were now distantly formal with each other.

Sakura had never commented on that, and Rin had worried for years that the lie, necessary as it had been, deeply wounded Sakura. But on this day, Sakura wore the very ribbon in her hair that Rin had given her so long ago, and it was enough to let Rin know that at least some sins had been forgiven. But with Sakura, that was no real surprise.

"I missed you," Rin admitted boldly, unable to stop her tears from falling.

Sakura laughed softly and gently brushed Rin's tears away. "You must mean that, if you're doing this much damage to your reputation. But don't think I don't appreciate it."

"As well you should. I wouldn't cry for just anyone," Rin said loftily.

"Maybe for onii-chan?" Sakura suggested slyly.

Rin blushed slightly. "That idiot? Of course not! I bet you anything he'll be late, helping some old woman cross the street!"

"You wouldn't really give him a hard time, if that were the reason?"

"Of course not, but it won't be! That was just an example!"

Rin's words proved more prophetic than she knew. Not only was Shirou not on time that day, he missed the first three classes, passed out during the fourth, and was sent home early to get some rest. In fact, Rin was the student tasked with deliviring the assignments he missed out on.

Sakura made it a point to stop by the school infirmary during lunch, when she heard what happened to Shirou. Of course, all she heard was that he'd been acting strangely. And that he had passed out in the middle of a lecture.

Also that his hair was now completely white, and he had been dubbed with the rather unflattering nickname, "Old Man Emiya", by some of Shinji's more catty followers.

Sakura thought briefly of the traumatic experience that had turned a lock of her own hair white, and wondered if the same had happened to Shirou. She very much doubted it, however. In fact, she doubted his hair color was a new development at all. Neither she nor Rin had seen Shirou for months before that day. It was possible his hair had changed in that time. Clearly, he had gotten used to it being that way, as he hadn't done anything to conceal it, and was comfortable enough to go to school looking that way.

Sure enough, Shirou was still in the infirmary, quietly eating his lunch.

Without a word, Sakura sat down next to him, and began to eat her own lunch.

He gave her an odd look, and she gave him a challenging stare that he quickly looked away from.

"I wish you had told us," she said after a moment. "We would have been happy to walk in with you."

"I was late. Anyway, I didn't want you two to get that kind of attention on the first day back. I don't mind if it's just me. But I didn't like the idea of you two taking the heat for it."

"We're your family, too," Sakura said softly. "Let us help you."

Shirou frowned. "I appreciate you saying that, but let's be very clear." He pointed at his hair. "This is a side effect of my body adjusting to my crest transplant. It wasn't entirely unexpected. But it isn't a problem, and I'm not ashamed of it."

"I never said you should be. But people are not so understanding-"

"I have more important things to worry about than what a few people think of my hair color. And I'll have to put up with far worse than some whispered insults soon enough." He leaned back and sighed. "We're going to war, Sakura. I don't have time to worry about silly school stuff."

"So you don't care what anyone else thinks."

"You just made it very clear that the people who matter still accept me. That's all I need or want."

"Nee-san is angry that you didn't tell her."

Shirou winced. "Yeah, well... I'll deal with that when I see her."

"If this had happened to me instead, you would want to know right away, wouldn't you?"

"That's different."

"Why?"

Shirou frowned. "You know why. You're the little sister. You're meant to be protected. Anyway, your life's been hard enough without adding my troubles to it."

"And yours hasn't?" Sakura demanded.

He blushed. "I don't dump my issues on other people, especially not you and Rin."

"But you at least used to talk to us about them. We would rather you worry us, than protect us." Sakura placed her hand on his. "Don't push us away, onii-chan. We love you. And with Emiya-sensei getting worse-"

"Don't." Shirou lowered his head. "I can't think about that right now."

"All the more reason to lean on us, so you don't have to." Sakura squeezed his hand with surprising strength. "We are much stronger than we look."

Kiritsugu did not open his eyes or sit up in bed when he felt the unfamiliar presence in the house. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the day, and all three of his students, and Taiga, would have been at school.

The reason was simple: he was dying, and the how of it really didn't matter to him anymore. If an intruder was going to kill him, that would still be preferable to dying by the curse, or the worms.

More importantly, the intruder, and it was definitely an intruder, had not tripped the sensors of the barrier around the house. So they either had excellent evasion abilities, or no malicious intent. As they had avoided announcing themselves, Kiritsugu was wagering on the former.

The intruder paused outside of his bedroom door.

Kiritsugu decided he was in no mood for suspense. "It's not locked, and there are no traps." That was all true: Kiritsugu would have relied on weapons, not traps. And there were plenty hidden within his reach, if it came to that.

The door swung open.

Kiritsugu's next words, whatever they had been, died in his throat.

The visitor stepped inside. "You are surprised," she noted.

"That isn't even close to adequately describing what I am right now."

"Fair enough."

Kiritsugu decided to ask before he lost his nerve. "Are you... the same one?"

She peered at him intently. "Would your behavior differ so much if I wasn't?"

"No. But there are things she might-"

"I have detailed knowledge of your final orders, if that is what you mean."

Kiritsugu blinked. "That isn't the same-"

"I'm aware. And I would still have you explain yourself. That is the purpose of my being here."

He looked startled. "You aren't here to kill me?"

She shook her head. "What would be the point? You are clearly not long for this world. I would take no satisfaction from ending your life. As I said, I am here for information." Her gaze hardened. "Why did you order the Holy Grail to be destroyed? Why did you betray it, and your Servant?"

Kiritsugu sighed. "I owe you... her... one of you, that much, at least. There was no time to explain then. Even now, you may not believe what I tell you. But I swear that it is the truth that the Grail itself shared with me."

He told her everything: the tale of Angra Mainyu, how the Grail had been corrupted, how it could now only grant wishes through curses. And at some point, it occurred to him that she must have known or suspected most of this already, because her standing there, in that form at all, was proof of how the Grail had been altered.

When he was done, she closed her eyes briefly. "I see. I do not doubt that you speak the truth, and I finally understand your reasoning. I do not agree, but I understand. That is all I needed. I do not think it will come, but I wish you a swift death, Kiritsugu Emiya." With that, she turned to leave.

"What would you have done in my place?" he couldn't help asking.

"Isn't it obvious? I would have had my wish granted, no matter the cost to myself, or anyone else. Even if the cost was my life."

Kiritsugu smiled bitterly. "Oh, no. It never would have been that. If you weren't alive to see your wish granted in the worst possible way, there wouldn't be nearly enough satisfaction for the Grail."

Passing out at school when people were already calling him an old man was annoying enough for Shirou. Being sent home for it, even more so. But to make matters worse, of all the people who they could have sent to walk him home, Mitsuzuri had not only been selected, she'd volunteered. Which meant the entire way, Shirou had to listen to a passionate speech about how he needed to take much better care of himself. He realized it was because she was a true friend who cared about him, but frankly, his current weakened condition wasn't his fault. At least, he didn't think it was. He'd been fine when he left Sisigou's house that morning, anyway. Although perhaps he should have had more to eat than burnt toast.

Anyone else might have just made sure Shirou got inside okay, but Mitsuzuri insisted on coming in, since she figured neither Shirou nor Kiritsugu was in any shape to look after the other. This turned out to be a good thing, because it meant Shirou had a witness to something he wasn't sure he actually saw, at first.

Just for an instant, there was a blonde woman standing outside of the front door. She was wearing a dark dress, either black or violet, and staring out into the distance. But, as if she sensed Shirou watching her, she vanished from view, far too quickly to have simply moved.

Shirou's first instinct was to ask Mitsuzuri if she had seen the woman, but he wasn't sure how to pose the question without being accused of imagining things. He really wished he was seeking her opinion on something other than a woman disappearing like a ghost.

Luckily, Mitsuzuri's shout of, "Whoa, how'd she do that?!" was all the reassurance he needed.

"No idea," Shirou replied. "Never seen her before, either."

Mitsuzuri suddenly blushed. "Um, maybe we should go for a walk around the block a few times. If your dad is entertaining strange women while you're supposed to be at school, we should give him a chance to get the place cleaned up."

Shirou rolled his eyes. "He's confined to his bed."

"Yeah, well, that's kind of my point!"

"He can't get up to answer the door, and he's not the type of person to tell people where he hides spare keys. He's not going to have strange women in and out of the house at any hour."

"Okay, then how do you explain some woman you don't know being here at this time?" Mitsuzuri demanded.

"He had a whole life before he found me. I assume he met women at some point. He did have a wife."

"And you don't think it's at all possible that he misses the company of a woman?"

"It's possible," Shirou finally said. "Just not very likely."

Mitsuzuri frowned. "You can do what you want, but I'm going to walk around the block twice first. Just in case."

Shaking his head, Shirou watched her walk away at an extremely slow pace. Then he unlocked the front door and went into the house.

Kiritsugu was in bed, right where Shirou expected him to be, and there was nothing that indicated a recently cleaned up sexcapade. Not that Shirou would have known what to look for if there had been one. The only female Kiritsugu had ever brought around Shirou was Fuji-nee, and she was there mainly to entertain Shirou, not Kiritsugu.

"You're home early," Kiritsugu noted. "Anything I should know about happen at school?"

"Yeah, but before that, who was the woman I saw outside?" Shirou asked bluntly.

Kiritsugu said nothing for a very long moment. Finally, he shook his head. "Someone I used to know."

Shirou frowned. "Arturia?"

"Possibly," Kiritsugu said slowly. "How do you know that name?"

"Not important. What did she want?"

"Information that I owed her. Why do you seem worried?"

"I'm not sure you should trust her."

"That doesn't really matter at this point," Kiritsugu said. "Her business with me is done. If she were going to do anything, she would have done it already."

"Maybe she already did," muttered Shirou.

"I don't understand you."

"Forget it."

Kiritsugu nodded. "So? School?"

"I passed out. No idea why."

Kiritsugu looked faintly alarmed. "Was Sisigou working you too hard?"

Shirou shook his head. "The training was reduced, just like you wanted, in preparation for the summoning. It wasn't that. Maybe it was the burnt toast."

"I doubt it, but it's possible. Enough talking, you need to rest up for tonight. We want to decrease the chances of anything else going wrong. Make sure you-"

"The protein shake, I know," Shirou said wearily. "Stuff tastes like roadkill."

"Impossible," Kiritsugu said at once. "For you to know that for sure. I've never served you roadkill."

Shirou rolled his eyes. Then he hesitated. "You, uh... look a little pale yourself."

"That'll be the worms," Kiritsugu said, allowing the fatigue he felt to leak into his voice. "That visit earlier excited them." Noticing Shirou's alarm, he shook his head. "No, it wasn't anything she did on purpose. But around mana that dense, they can't sit still. Nothing we can do about that. Now, the protein shake and then bed."

Shirou made a face, but still went to the kitchen and took out a pitcher that he had come to loathe with a passion. Inside was the aforementioned protein shake, which Shirou had begun drinking shortly after his very first crest transplant. It was a foul-tasting, foul-smelling, and foul-looking concoction, and the only true benefit was that immediately after consuming it, Shirou could not deny that his body always felt full of energy. Even so, he still hated it.

Unknown to Kiritsugu, in a show of solidarity, Sakura would occasionally offer to drink the protein shake with Shirou. Oddly enough, she claimed the taste didn't bother her too much, and never had as strong a reaction to it as Shirou did. Shirou briefly thought that maybe it tasting so bad as all in his head. But Rin reassured him that his first impression was correct: the only time he'd asked her to try the protein shake, she accused him of obviously trying to poison her.

Of course, if Shirou had thought to tell Rin that the protein shake was supposed to help him adjust to his crest transplant, she would have figured out very quickly why it tasted so foul, why it worked so well on him, and why it had little to no effect on Sakura. The answer to all three was that Matou crest worms were no different from regular bugs, in that they were packed with protein, whether they were alive and squirming through a body, or dead and blended into a protein shake.

What Rin did know, however, was that the crest she'd seen on Shirou's back at various points contained no visible traces of Matou magecraft. Nor was there any visible crest on Sakura that would imply her status as a Matou. And Rin had studied her father's notes, specifically his encounters with Kariya Matou, enough to know that insects were involved. And since she never saw Sakura or Shirou carrying any, she rightly assumed that the insects were carried within them. Consequently, Rin encouraged Sakura to eat whenever she was in the Tohsaka home, and was naturally suspicious of anything Sakura or Shirou ate that had been prepared by anyone other than her. Rin could not protest, being well aware that this was part of the contract she'd agreed to. She was a mage, and this was what mages did, if it was called for. That was how her family had lost Sakura in the first place. No one had taken her away. The Matous asked, and her father handed Sakura over.

Mages weren't human. They didn't have that luxury. Nor were the children they raised up considered human anymore. But Rin had lost her parents before she was fully grown. And Kiritsugu had become her teacher at a time when Rin was still young enough where she hadn't become fully devoted to the Tohsaka way just yet. The result was something that Tokiomi Tohsaka never would have envisioned, but still would have applauded. At heart, Rin was a Tohsaka, and always would be. But within that heart burned a total lack of mercy, when it came to obtaining the things that mattered most to her. Rin had embraced the ideals of the old Kiritsugu, who was feared among mages. It was nothing that Kiritsugu had wanted to teach her, and yet, he could not deny Rin access to areas where her talent was truly flourishing. She wouldn't have allowed that. And the alternative was her gaining those skills through less unsupervised means. Rin would not be denied.

There was, however, another reason Kiritsugu gave in, a purely selfish one. Rin would not hesitate to exterminate the Einzberns, if it meant adding a powerful mage to her family. And she would do anything to protect Sakura and Shirou, because they were her family, too. She was the best chance for Illya to be free and safe. In some ways, she was more Kiritsugu's successor than Shirou could ever be. But she would never be a hero of justice. Her brand of justice would be far too dark and direct to ever be fit for the masses.

Just before midnight, Rin and Sakura arrived at the Emiya residence. They didn't bother going inside the house itself. Instead, they walked around to the backyard, where Kiritsugu and Shirou were waiting. If there was only one time when Kiritsugu would ignore doctor's orders and leave his bed, it was for this night. With no direction from Kiritsugu, Rin proceeded to draw three summoning circles. They were flawless. Sakura merely watched, while Shirou sipped a protein shake, and tried not to gag.

Shirou and Rin both began their summonings precisely at one. This was not necessarily ideal for either, but Kiritsugu had determined that the synergy would improve both their rates of success, and the overall power of their Servants. What he had not told them was that it should also improve the odds that the Servants hailed from the same side of the same mythological era, so the chances of them already being allied would be increased.

Things went awry immediately: Rin appeared to have failed to summon anything at all. Shirou, on the other hand, successfully summoned Lancer, who immediately shook his hand, said, "Nice one, little bro. But, uh, be right back!" and then promptly ran off at top speed.

Several minutes later, Lancer returned, sulking, followed by a giant man who immediately knelt before Rin.

"W-Who are you?" Rin asked warily.

"I am your Servant, my Master," the giant replied. "You may call me Saber, if you like."

"YES!" Rin shrieked, doing a silly little war dance on the spot. "I got SABER!"

Saber blinked, watching his Master with amusement. "You are pleased, I take it?"

"Of course I'm pleased, I got SABER!" Rin yelled happily, hugging one of his massive legs. "In your face, Shirou!"

Shirou scowled at her. "Just because you got Saber, doesn't mean-"

Lancer placed a hand on Shirou's shoulder. "So, good for you, little missy," he said.

Rin glared at him. "Hey, I don't like your tone, Lancer."

"Oh? Going to have Saber beat me up?" Lancer invited with a knowing grin.

"I just might!" Rin threatened. "So watch it!"

Lancer chuckled. "No, I don't think I will, little missy. In fact, I think I'm going to have a great deal of fun teasing you as much as I want."

Rin turned red. "Get him, Saber!"

Saber shook his head. "I will not."

Rin blinked in surprise. "Huh?! Why not?"

Lancer laughed. "Yeah, maybe you'd better educate her on your Skill set, oji-san. Since she apparently can't read."

Once Rin had taken the time to check her Servant's read-out, she was floored, and pissed. "What! You mean you can't attack Lancer?!"

"It is more accurate to say I will not," Saber corrected. "Though, believe me, I have been tempted."

"But this is awful! That means we can only win the Holy Grail War if someone else beats him!"

"Do not forget the terms of our contract, Rin," Kiritsugu reminded her. "Shirou is not after the Holy Grail, nor will he be participating in the War. Lancer was never going to be a threat to you in that respect."

"Yeah, but I still wanted to be the one who defeated Shirou's Servant!" Rin complained.

Lancer grinned. "Did I mention how much I will enjoy reminding you that you won't, little missy?"

"Shut up!" Rin snapped, only succeeding in making him laugh.

Sakura's summoning was scheduled to proceed at two. As with Rin, she appeared to have failed to summon anything. Unlike with Rin, Sakura's Servant did not eventually arrive. And after an hour, it became clear that something had gone wrong. No one was willing to say it, but Sakura finally did.

"I failed. I'm not a Master."

"That's not true!" Rin protested. She grabbed Sakura's hand and showed it to them, where there were indeed Command Spells.

"Rin," Kiritsugu said firmly. "That's enough." He turned to Sakura, and softened his tone. "Sakura, I can't say I know what happened here. But, you are still my student, and you are always welcome here. Especially now. I, for one, don't trust that priest. This can be your sanctuary, if you should feel threatened at any time."

Sakura bowed to him. "Thank you, Emiya-sensei. I may take you up on that offer."

"Sakura," Rin pleaded, clearly not ready to give up on the summoning attempt.

Sakura shook her head. "It's okay, nee-san. It's late, and we have school tomorrow. I should go-"

"You can both stay here," Shirou said at once, getting a nod of support from Kiritsugu. "We'll leave for school in the morning, together."

Sakura smiled at him. "I'd like that."

Rin sighed. "I'll call Archer and let her know we're staying." Sakura took her hand, and they went inside.

Once the girls were gone, Shirou turned to Kiritsugu. "Is there any chance Rin made a mistake with the summoning circles?"

"She didn't," Kiritsugu confirmed.

"Then how do you explain this? Of all of us, Sakura should have had the easiest time summoning a Servant!"

"I'm aware, Shirou. I have no answer for you right now."

Shirou frowned. "This doesn't make any sense."

Kiritsugu said nothing to that. He already had a very good idea of why Sakura had been unable to summon a Servant in their presence. But he was equally certain that it wasn't his place to inform Shirou or Rin of that, and that there was an excellent reason why Sakura had not done the same.

Earlier

Matou had brought Sakura back just in time, it seemed. Shortly after their review, Zouken had summoned Sakura to the basement, as Matou had known he would. Thankfully, not for training, but for something that Sakura, rather than Matou, was especially suited for, and wouldn't prove too uncomfortable.

And now that it was done, Sakura understood, for the very first time, what her true value to the Matou family was. And she now knew it to be far greater than what her grandfather had thought it was. The Heroic Spirit standing before her in the dusty, mold-encrusted room was all the proof she would ever need of her extreme potential as a magus.

Zouken had given her explicit instructions on what she was to do, and how the Spirit would most likely react to her.

Everything he had told her was wrong. Not because he had purposely lied to her, oddly enough. He simply had been completely in the dark about the nature of this particular Servant, in this particular Class.

The Servant was supposed to ask if the person before them was their Master.

Instead, the moment the armored Servant locked eyes with Sakura, it stepped forward, gently grasped her shoulders, and announced without hesitation or doubt, "You are my Master."

Sakura opened her mouth to respond, paused when she noticed Shinji glaring at her from the doorway, and swallowed hard. "I... yes, I am your Master. But since I will not be participating in the Holy Grail War, I will transfer control of you to-"

"No," the Servant interrupted. "I will serve only you."

Sakura frowned. She knew many Servants could prove strong-willed, especially when first summoned. Even this much resistance was not really abnormal. But the Servant she'd been aiming for would have been notably more obedient. This was clearly not that Servant, but attitude aside, it was simply impossible to call this summoning a failure.

Even though the Class was way off, she had still managed to summon one of the strongest heroes that she knew of.

But as an Assassin, according to her read-out.

Sakura tried again to explain the situation. "No, I'm telling you that I won't be-"

"You will. You are my Master, and-"

"What are you waiting for, idiot?!" Shinji snapped as he stomped into the room. "Stop letting it tell you how things are going to be! Give the order and hand over my new slave!"

The Servant glanced at Shinji with obvious loathing before turning her gaze back to Sakura. "Master... were you actually intending to order me to obey this person?"

"Um, yes," Sakura murmured.

"I refuse," the Servant replied at once. "You are my one and only Master. I obey only you, and only orders that you truly wish for me to follow. If you wish for me to obey him, you must use a Command Spell to do so."

This was not a shock to Sakura, who had figured that would be necessary. But only because it was so unusual. Not because she'd expected the Servant to take an instant dislike to Shinji. Only some people did that. Well, rather a lot of them, frankly.

Sakura opened her mouth to begin the official transfer, but made the mistake of meeting the Servant's gaze. Those honest, unclouded, piercing golden eyes would not allow her to say a word. It was not any sort of magic, merely an overwhelming strength of will the likes of which Sakura had never encountered before. And if there was one thing that the Matous had expected from and desired of Sakura from day one, it was to submit to superior willpower.

By then, Shinji lost what little patience he'd had. He stomped toward Sakura, his right hand already raised and balled into a fist. His anger was such that he had actually forgotten what a bad idea this was.

Sakura caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of her left eye, automatically winced, and braced herself for the hit.

The Servant did not move. Or at least, did not appear to.

But in the next moment, events unfolded in a way that only one of them expected.

Shinji's right hand fell. On the floor, as it had been sliced off at the wrist. He saw the fallen hand before any sort of pain registered, and the additional sight of his now bloody right stump was what finally caused him to start shrieking.

Sakura slowly opened her eyes, and stared into the steady gaze of her Servant. If she was aware of what had happened to Shinji, she gave no sign of it.

"You are my Master," the Servant repeated firmly, staring down at her.

"Why would you want me?" Sakura whispered. "I'm just-"

"You are just," the Servant agreed. "That is all I need to know, my Master." The Servant placed a gauntlet-covered arm around Sakura's shoulders and drew her closer. "Please do not seek to disrupt our bond again, my Master. I have no desire to be parted from you."

Sakura again found that she could not refuse those golden eyes. Not out of fear, or any emotion that she could readily identify. Nor was it any method of control that she had experienced since becoming part of the Matou family. She only understood on an instinctive level that her Servant intended to stay with her, to serve her, to protect her. And only her.

Afterward, Sakura left for school, and Shinji skipped school to go straight to a hospital.

Neither was aware of it, but Zouken had been testing them both that day, and Shinji had certainly not passed. Sakura, however... she hadn't failed. But to say she had met her grandfather's expectations also would have been inaccurate. And Zouken, once again, found himself in the curious position of having to decide whether he preferred that Sakura behave exactly as he wanted with predictable results, or beyond his calculations with far more superior results that he could not adequately control.

Humming softly to herself, Sakura carefully checked her appearance in the mirror. As she did so, her shadow thickened and stretched behind her, and an armored shape slowly rose from it like a ghost. If Sakura was startled when she noticed that she was no longer alone, then she showed it by smiling and whispering, "Good morning, Armor."

The knight nodded. "Greetings, Master. I have detected nothing to be concerned about, so far as the Servants nearby go. But there is one beyond my effective range, so I can say nothing for certain about them."

"Not even their Class?"

"Process of elimination would suggest they are an extra Servant, so a nonstandard Class is most likely."

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind. Is there anything you need from me?"

The knight hesitated. "Master, the ceremony I spoke of before?"

"Right," Sakura said. "It sounded really interesting. I'll have to skip club practice this afternoon, but that's no problem."

"It will be a formal acknowledgement of your status as my Master. It is essential, for you to assume command of the knights who have pledged their loyalty to me."

Sakura shook her head. "Really, I don't understand why you'd want that. But since it's important to you, of course I'll do it."

The knight stepped closer to Sakura. "Thank you, Master. For this, and for concealing my presence. It will only increase my ability to serve you effectively."

At that moment, the doorknob rattled, and then the door swung open as a bleary-eyed Rin was revealed, looking especially grumpy.

Sakura stared at her sister with raised eyebrows. "Good morning, nee-san."

Rin grunted something in Sakura's general direction, but otherwise ignored her and shuffled into the bathroom.

Though Sakura was fairly certain that in Rin's current state, not even a plane crashing into the bathroom would been noticed, she still glanced down. Her shadow was perfectly normal-looking again, and there was definitely no longer an armored person sticking out of it.

Rin's next grunt was a bit more aggressive-sounding, so Sakura took the hint and quickly left the bathroom.

"I'm telling you, you don't have to go to school with me," Shirou said for the third time.

"And I'm telling you, I'm going," Lancer said flatly. "Don't worry, no one will see me."

"Why are YOU so worried?"

"Do you have a girlfriend? A lover? Some pretty little thing you're spending time with?"

Shirou blushed. "What? Of course not!"

Lancer reached forward and jabbed Shirou hard in the neck, directly on the two bite marks that still hadn't faded completely. "Damn right, you don't. Because they would have noticed these, and demanded to know who you were cheating with. But those aren't love bites, and they didn't come from a girl. You've been marked by a monster, and not just any monster. So I go where you go."

Shirou paled. "What sort of monster?"

"The kind I don't want you facing alone," Lancer said simply. "Don't worry, little brother. I've got your back."

"Okay," Shirou said, a little relieved. "Thanks, Lancer."

"It's nothing." Lancer's grin faded as Shirou looked away. Saber had recognized the bite marks first, and made a point to mention them to Lancer. But there had been no need. There was no Heroic Spirit of Greek origin that would mistake those bites for anything else. Shirou had been unlucky to be marked, but also very lucky to walk away at all. And though he didn't show it, Lancer was more worried than Shirou knew. Lancer had sworn to never use his weapon of choice, his spear, against a female. And depending on the Class that Medusa had been summoned in, he might be honor-bound not to use the spear against her, even if she was still a monster. That didn't mean he couldn't find another way to kill her, only that it would be trickier. Which Saber must have known, so his warning, while annoying, was appreciated.

That was the only help Saber would provide, though. Still being sore about Kotomine's death being stolen, Lancer had insisted that Medusa was his kill, as she had threatened his Master. Saber agreed not to interfere, unless Rin were targeted, or she ordered him to act.

So Lancer had every intention of adding Medusa's next defeat to his impressive list of heroic feats.

But, especially concerning a Holy Grail War, things so rarely go as planned.

Although he had not been invited, Ruler walked into the Tohsaka mansion as if he owned the place.

A small table in the dining room had been prepared to host tea for two. Ruler ignored it. He did not care for tea, and even if he had, it wasn't the purpose of his visit.

He found Archer in the kitchen with her back to him, putting the final touches on the aforementioned tea.

"Welcome, Ruler," she said. "Or perhaps I should say, welcome back. You have been here before."

"I am not here for small talk, pretender," Ruler warned her. "You lay claim to the name and position of Archer, but my eyes are not deceived. You are no Archer, and your presence may prevent a True Archer from being summoned. This is unacceptable. Take your own life at once, or shall I assist you?"

Archer sighed. "Rest assured, I have no intention of causing problems. I swear upon my honor, now that Rin Tohsaka has successfully summoned Saber, I have no plans to stay. The details of my death have already been revealed to me, and that occasion will come shortly after we are done."

Ruler glared at her. "You assume I will permit you to survive this encounter."

"With respect, this is not about what you might permit. The future has been revealed to me."

"Then you must surely know how you plan to survive the next few moments."

Archer nodded. "With extreme difficulty. Yet, I will survive them. There is no doubt in my mind."

"Let us test the firmness of your faith," Ruler said softly, extending his hand as a battle axe dropped neatly into it from a glowing portal.

"Indeed," Archer said in a resigned sort of way. She already knew the tea would get cold.

From a very early age, Mordred had come to understand that her body, while certainly unusual, offered a variety of useful features. They could not really be called human features, but even that was somewhat expected of a Pendragon. In particular, Mordred had found that her nose was not just sensitive, but discerning: it had never failed to identify someone who proved unworthy of her trust. On the other hand, Mordred's head or heart were sometimes slow to agree with what her nose had been telling her from day one. So in the rare moments where all three agreed, Mordred preferred to take immediate action.

And as Mordred stared out at the snow-covered forest surrounding the Einzbern castle, her senses were all screaming for her to act at once. While she did not plan to ignore them, there was now her Master's safety to consider.

"Jack," Mordred murmured, and her lips had barely stopped moving when the Assassin appeared at her feet.

"You called me, onii-sama?" Jack asked.

"There's something I need to look into. I expect you and Morgan to guard Illya with your lives."

Jack nodded firmly. "Of course, onii-sama! Master is safe with us!"

Mordred smiled faintly and ruffled Jack's hair. "Do a good job and I might bring you back something nice." She felt the tiniest bit guilty in saying that, as she had no firm plans to obtain a fresh heart for Jack, but sometimes, these things did manage to work out.

Once Jack had vanished back into the castle, Mordred sighed and stretched out her hand. Clarent fell into it at once, the weight both reassuring and prickly at the same time. "I cast this spell in the name of my late mother, Morgan le Fay," Mordred whispered. "Until this sword leaves my hand, let my Noble Phantasm be inverted."

Clarent pulsed with power, and in that instant, Pride Upon My Back became Back to My Pride. With Mordred's family behind her, in need of her protection, there was nothing that could prevent her from meeting a threat to them head-on. And on this day, that threat was a bit too familiar for her liking.

Though Mordred did not know how it would happen, she was prepared for anything. So when the shadows suddenly burst from the snow, rose up and joined to form a black tidal wave, she did not hesitate. Eyes narrowed, Mordred threw herself headfirst into the wave. The darkness pulled her down, not in an attempt to consume, but to guide. Mordred allowed herself to be drawn in deeper and deeper, until she once again sensed that unmistakable presence. Then, with a feral grin, she lashed out with Clarent, and blade met blade.

The opposing sword was one that Mordred would know anywhere, but that was not all that held her attention.

Green eyes stared into golden eyes, and the world seemed to stop around them.

"You are not my father," Mordred whispered. "And yet..."

"And yet," echoed the soft, dangerous voice of the armored opponent. "I could not agree more, Your Highness."

Mordred flinched. Hearing that title, from those lips, in that face... it was something she had never been able to adjust to. Especially not from her own father. For all her dreams of becoming king and surpassing her father, the very idea that her revered lord father might one day bow to her, or submit to her, filled her with something like deepest disgust. There was only one that Mordred would bow to, and that one should never bow to anyone.

"You object to that title? Fascinating."

Mordred's eyes narrowed, and Clarent began to glow crimson as it pushed against the dark blade. "I object to hearing it from you. But never mind that now. Now that I know who and what you are, I'm here to deliver a message."

Despite the increasing pressure from Clarent, the opponent made no move to do the same with her sword, and yet, had no problem withstanding Mordred's force. "You have my attention."

"Don't lose to anyone else. I will be the one to defeat you. Anything else I need to know about you, I'll learn when our swords clash."

A smile flickered across the golden-eyed woman's lips. "Again, I agree. But I warn and remind you now: I am not your father. Honor and glory: these are things I had to put aside in my quest. I accept your challenge, but my story is different." With a slight twist of her wrist, the dark sword pulsed, and Mordred was nearly blown backwards by the crushing waves of pressure radiating from it. "I am a king no more. But I know exactly how to take one's head, Your Majesty."

"Truly Excalibur," Mordred muttered.

"Excalibur Morgan, actually," the golden-eyed woman corrected. "And as for myself, my Master has requested that I use a specific name: Arturia Black."

Mordred grinned. "You have no fear of revealing your True Name to an enemy. I like that."

Arturia Black smirked. "I can't see how it would matter. You already knew my identity. As for anyone else? At best, knowing the name of their killer might give them some small sense of relief. But to suggest that simply knowing my name would somehow equate to my opponent's victory? Laughable. No Pendragon has ever been so weak. I assume you agree?"

Mordred's answer was lost as a primal yell sounded behind her, but she made no move to turn around, not even as a second glowing Clarent sliced through the darkness, aimed at her head. Inches away, the second Clarent's blow was blocked by the appearance of Caliburn behind Mordred's back, as if weilded by an unseen hand.

"Friend of yours?" Mordred asked mildly, peering over her shoulder.

Arturia Black did not seem at all concerned. "King Mordred Pendragon, I would like you to meet the commander of my army, the Knight of Blood."

After being named, Mordred's attacker came into a view: a suit of black armor, topped by a horned helmet that gave the appearance of a demon, complete with eyes that glowed red. Despite the introduction, they made no move to break off the attack, and in fact increased their struggle against Caliburn.

"Your leader and I will have our date soon enough," Mordred said. "So I would suggest you withdraw, before I decide to take this as a personal insult."

"You will not threaten my leader and live to boast of it!" the Knight of Blood hissed.

"Mordred Pendragon is no king who crows empty words without action. Rest assured, I would not share the news of your leader's defeat, unless I had the head to show for it."

With a snarl of rage, the Knight of Blood raised Clarent again, preparing to strike.

Mordred sighed and turned to face Arturia Black. "When the time is right-"

"We will find each other, I am sure," Arturia Black answered, watching as Clarent fell, only to shatter into pieces as it struck Caliburn for the second and final time.

"What-" the Knight of Blood begin to gasp in shock, and then Caliburn silenced any further talk when it slashed upward, cracking the black armor and cleaving the horned helmet in two pieces. Under any other circumstances, the strike would have left a mortal wound. But in this case, Arturia Black had appeared behind her commander and yanked them back exactly three inches.

If Mordred was surprised to see a thinner, haunted version of her own face staring back at her, then she hid it well. "There are far better ways to die, than unnessecarily defending your king's honor."

Arturia Black frowned. "I am no king."

Mordred snorted. "You wear my father's face, and you wield Excalibur. You are a king, until you lose that sword, or I cut your head from your neck. Would a soldier throw away their life so carelessly for a mere leader?"

"You know very well why this one would, for me," Arturia Black countered, squeezing the Knight of Blood's soldier. "And why I would not allow you to kill this one."

"Careful. You're sounding more and more like my father every second," Mordred teased. "Well, the promise stands: I'll kill you, eventually. Both of you, if you prefer. But until then, I won't stand for any version of me to go around without a proper weapon." She snapped her fingers loudly. "Oi, Sensei! I think I've found what you've been looking for!"

At once, a tall man appeared at Mordred's side. His face was scarred and aged, his hair was long and white, and the silver armor he wore was far too pristine to have seen even a single battle. The overwhelming aura that surrounded him suggested only two things: a wealth of experience in combat, and a purity that no mortal man should be able to possess.

Arturia Black stiffened, something that the Knight of Blood noticed immediately.

"What game is this, Mordred?" the old man asked wearily.

"No game, Sensei." Mordred pointed at the Knight of Blood. "That's the one."

"Really," the old man said doubtfully. He stared at the Knight of Blood, and then at the fallen remains of her Clarent. "Certainly seems like you've been having fun here, though."

"Are you going to do the test or not? I didn't drag you out here for nothing."

"There's no point. You destroyed the sword."

"That isn't needed and you know it, Sensei," Mordred said irritably. "You're just trying to be difficult."

The old man coughed. "As if you deserve any less, after all that you've put me through."

"Hey, that's not fair! I learned plenty from you! You taught me how to fight!"

"No, I showed you how a knight fights. You exploited that by only learning how to target the flaws in a knight's technique."

"Well, it only made sense. You didn't have any, everyone else did. But I still learned!"

Arturia Black interrupted at that point. "Sorry, but... you trained Mordred?"

The old man paused. "Why so surprised? You asked me to. Or some Arturia did. And let me tell you, squashing the rebellion out of this imp was harder than pulling dragon teeth."

Mordred scowled. "The test, Sensei?"

"Fine, fine." The old man gestured slightly, the broken Clarent instantly reformed, floating before the Knight of Blood. "There. It's only a temporary patch job, but it doesn't need to last long. Come at me with everything you have. I will defend myself with... this." The old man produced a mere twig from his pocket.

Snarling at the perceived insult, the Knight of Blood raced forward, Clarent raised for a fatal blow.

The old man actually waited for the best possible moment, and then parried with the twig.

Clarent broke again, but this time there was no avoiding the impact behind the blow, and Arturia Black did not interfere. The Knight of Blood shrieked as a white light blinded her, and was driven backward by incredible force. She remained standing, but just barely.

"There is potential," the old man murmured. "We'll call this a pass, then. Congratulations."

The Knight of Blood glared at him, panting slightly. "So? What does that mean?"

"It means you get this." A new sword appeared before the Knight of Blood. It was instantly recognizable to all present.

"But this is... Arondight!" the Knight of Blood gasped in awe.

The old man nodded. "Indeed. You would expect me to carry any other sword?"

Arturia Black shook her head in disbelief. "Lancelot... my old friend. This is far too great a gift, even for my child."

"It is only because this is your child that I would ever part with this sword," Lancelot corrected. "And it it less a gift, and more a challenge. You two have been dyed in darkness. This is a holy sword. I can't imagine it would be easy for you to wield. But if you can master it, Knight of Blood, it will truly be your sword then. If you can't... well, I've learned not to expect too much from people with that face."

"Sensei, I am your king, you know," Mordred said mildly.

Lancelot smirked. "No, you are the child of my king, who then rose to the throne. There is a difference. I still honor and serve you, of course. In the most informal possible way." He turned back to the Knight of Blood, who was still staring at Arondight. "So? Are you up to the challenge?"

The Knight of Blood blinked, then scowled at him. "There is no sword in existence that I fear." She reached for the sword.

"This is about respecting the sword, not fearing it," Lancelot warned, but the Knight of Blood had already seized the sword. At once, her black armor faded to a dull gray, and her body sagged, as if trying to hold up a great weight.

"What is this?!" she demanded. "My power has been sealed!"

"Sapped, not sealed. As I said, it is a holy sword. What would you expect it to do, when it senses darkness in its weilder? It is suppressing that power, in an attempt to save you. It will not accept that this is your power. It does not understand you. Or rather, you do not understand it. But that may come in time. And then, it may not. That is for you to determine." Lancelot turned to Mordred. "Our business here is done, I believe. Who knows what trouble your dog will get into while you're away?"

Even though she was about to enter a fight for her life, Archer could not help but feel at peace, once she was under the open sky. Ruler had consented to taking the battle outside, where there would be more room to maneuver, not that he expected to need it himself. Archer had chosen a small courtyard on the Tohsaka estate, figuring that Ruler would not have much patience for a drawn-out relocation. More importantly, she was just thankful that he had chosen to drop in while Rin wasn't home.

"So how will you attempt to entertain me, False Archer?" Ruler asked.

"If my struggle to survive amuses you, Ruler, then so be it," Archer replied. "As I said, my death has been predetermined, and you are not the one who will kill me. I mean no disrespect, but I have seen my own end. You are not a factor."

"Mongrel," Ruler said in a soft, dangerous tone. "You dare to say that I, Ruler, am not a factor in any aspect of my very own game? For that alone, you must die."

Archer sighed. "I knew no answer I could give would satisfy you, which is why I knew this battle was inevitable. Shall we get to it, then?"

Ruler simply threw the battle axe in his hand directly at Archer's head. She dodged aside with ease, as expected. He reacted by summoning a trio of golden portals behind him.

"You can ask, you know," Archer offered. "Unless that would damage your pride too much. I could just tell you."

"To what are you referring to, mongrel?" Ruler demanded.

"You were right to say I am no Archer. But you have not once called me by my current Class. I can only conclude that at least some of my status is concealed from you. But I have no Skill, nor Noble Phantasm, that should impact anyone in such a way, least of all a Ruler. That leaves only one possible explanation, and I think you will find it most illuminating."

Ruler glared at her. "Go on."

"You know my name and my legend. You know the goddess I owe my life to. The power I possess now is a combined blessing, given to me by her and her twin brother. With your status as Ruler, and A rank Divinity, nothing about me should be hidden from your eyes. You have already confirmed your Divinity rank, via the Noble Phantasm of Heracles. This can only mean that Heracles recognizes your restored Divinity rank... but the other gods of Olympus do not."

"SILENCE!" Ruler roared, as dozens of portals joined the original trio, and weapons of every size and shape emerged from them, each a Noble Phantasm.

Archer shook her head. "Since your eyes are unable to see it, I will explain why that method of attack is not effective against me. For my lifelong devotion to children, the god Apollo has given me command over every ray of sunlight. They are my arrows, the sky is my quiver, and my bow is all of the-"

"You would pit mere sunlight against my treasures?" Ruler laughed. "So be it."

"Perhaps experience would be the best teacher in this case," Archer said.

Ruler ignored her and attacked again. And again. And again.

And Archer didn't dodge anymore. If she had, that would have been annoying enough. What she did was infinitely more insulting, in Ruler's eyes: she did use sunlight against his many treasures. And the sunlight was winning.

There was much more to it, of course. Ruler noticed that right away. Archer was pelting each of his treasures with anywhere from three to seven distinct sunbeams, and the last one always managed to shatter the treasure, regardless of how many sunbeams had been used against it. And yet, Ruler was certain that each and every sunbeam had the same amount of power, and that that power was never as high as A rank, while many of his treasures were. There was definitely more going on than he knew, and though he hated to even consider it, Archer might have been correct: something was still hidden from his eyes.

Rider was jolted awake by something warm and wet dragging against her cheek. She was only slightly comforted to find that it had been Berserker, who had leaned in for another lick until she sensed that Rider was awake.

"What is it, dear one?" Rider sighed.

Berserker immediately tugged on Rider's arm, obviously wanting her to follow. Wondering what had gained Berserker's interest, but suspecting it would be nothing to be happy about, Rider followed to the end of the alley they'd been sleeping in.

Sure enough, it was nothing to be happy about: Rider immediately recognized the boy that they had fed from earlier. Oddly, he seemed to have fully recovered already. He was accompanied by two girls, and worse, they both appeared to have strong magical power.

Berserker cared about none of those details, however. It was clear from the way she was shifting restlessly what she wanted: to feed on the boy again. Apparently, she'd taken a liking to him, though not in any positive way.

"Absolutely not," Rider said at once, drawing a moan of disappointment from Berserker. "You could easily kill him by mistake, if you're this eager to feed on him again. Haven't I told you, that isn't our goal? Yes, we must feed, but we are to take no pleasure in it."

"So you have your monster leashed, do you?" said a voice above them. "I hope your grip is better than looks would suggest, then."

Berserker growled, instantly leaping in front of Rider, her chains rustling in preparation to attack.

Lancer eyed them calmly from his seat on the edge of the nearby roof. "I would greet you by True Name, but I must admit that I can't decide which of you is Medusa. And I'd rather not think about her having two bodies just now."

Rider frowned at him. "If you know us, then it's only fair that we should know you."

Lancer stiffened as a peculiar sensation washed over him. "What did you-?"

"Achilles," Rider murmured, sounding satisfied. "That explains it."

Lancer glared at her. "How did you do that?" he demanded.

"Simple. I cheated." Rider shrugged. "Complain to Ruler, if you like. I merely borrowed his Skill long enough to confirm your name. He consented to that much, although he did indicate that my viewing anything else about you would be pushing it. Fortunate for me that your fame has told me enough."

"Whatever you think you know about me, it won't spare you."

"I know you have sworn to never use that spear against a woman."

Lancer shook his head. "Then you should also know that I consider your companion, in her current state, more monster than woman. So I won't hesitate to slay her, with or without the spear, if she comes near my Master again. And even if she doesn't, I'll still be the one to defeat her. You, little one, I'll spare. But I cannot speak for the other Servants. And without your monster, I don't much like your chances."

"Worry about yourself. This war is about survival, not heroics. Your honor is an obstacle, while my willingness to do whatever it takes will see me through to the end."

"Convince yourself first. You leash your monster long enough for us to converse, and you tell me exactly what you are capable of. If honor is truly an obstacle here, then it's a problem for us both."

Rider was many things, but above all else, in that moment, she was a young girl who had been complimented by a handsome man. So she could not be blamed for her instinctive reaction: blushing and ducking her head.

It was that, more than anything else, that convinced Lancer to leave things there. "Remember my warning, Medusa. I won't tolerate some beast sniffing around my Master, looking for a second chance to bite."

Rider frowned as he vanished. "He didn't react at all to the power of my voice. He must have very strong resistances, or some Skill that guards him. We'll need to be very careful with him."

It did not take long at all. After wasting a grand total of thirty-seven Noble Phantasms, Ruler lost his patience with the game. He wasn't winning, after all.

"Mongrel. I demand that you tell me how you have continued to avoid certain doom at my hands."

Archer sighed. "I did offer to tell you earlier, if you recall. It's not like I'm trying to hide anything."

"Do you dare to test the limits of my patience even further, False Archer?"

"Former Archer is more accurate, actually. My current Class is Seer, an Archer evolution."

Even as she said it, Ruler saw the information being added to her read-out, proving it was true.

"And as for what's been costing you several of your treasures, that's my first Noble Phantasm, Endless Reign. It is nowhere near as powerful or varied as your Gate of Babylon... but then, it doesn't need to be. While your Gate boasts the 'terrifying power of variety', my Reign boasts the 'frightening power of unfailing accuracy' and then some. Not only do I never miss, I always hit a weak point. So it's no wonder that your treasures have been breaking. Surviving even one hit would be impressive, but to take several in a row, with each new hit growing in accuracy and critical hit likelihood... did I forget to mention that last part earlier?"

Ruler pursed his lips, finding it very unlikely that Seer forgot much of anything, if her claims of prophecy had been true... and now it really seemed as though they had.

"So, we could do this all day, if you insist," Seer offered. "All night, as well. I have been given command over stars, as well, so day or night makes little difference to me. Again, if you are concerned for my part in your game, do not be. I will make my exit this very night, and your True Archer will have their time, no doubt. My task has been completed. I have seen Rin Tohsaka safely into the Holy Grail War."

"And who gave you that task?" Ruler asked.

"None other than the spirit of my Master, Tokiomi Tohsaka. You should know, that while he holds no ill will towards you, he was very pleased to learn that you could not interfere with me effectively. He was quite concerned about that. Almost as if he suspected, or knew for certain, that you excelled in driving his comrades into murderous plots against him."

Ruler said nothing to that.

Seer nodded. "Well, if you're done with me, I need to go. I only have a few hours left here. I'd like to see Rin, one last time. Please excuse me, Ruler."

Ruler scowled. "You are excused, Atalanta."

She nodded again and vanished, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

The basement of the Matou house was the absolute last place that Sakura ever wanted to go again. But, her Servant claimed it was the closest suitable location for the ceremony, and swore that Sakura did not need to be concerned. And indeed, Sakura could neither hear nor see any of the Matou insects this time around. She wasn't sure if they'd been temporarily removed, or if they had merely been suppressed by some sort of magic. Either way, she was glad to not be able to sense them in any way.

Although even if they had been there, Sakura wasn't sure she would have noticed then. The sight of basement filled with armored warriors would have demanded her attention instead.

The crowd parted, and Arturia Black moved forward, gently grasping Sakura's hand and leading her to the middle of the room.

"This is my Master: Sakura, of the noble clan Tohsaka. If you would follow me, you will follow her. I am an instrument of her will, and you are the tools I would use to give form to her dreams. If you agree, come forward and pledge your loyalty!"

One by one, the warriors approached Sakura, knelt at her feet, and offered their weapon, usually a sword, for her inspection. Apparently, Sakura was to nod, signalling her approval, and then the warrior would back away, allowing another to take their turn. Most offered their names, or at least a title that Sakura could address them by. There were far too many for her to remember without some practice.

In any case, it was the final two that seemed the most important: the Knight of the Deep, because he was among the largest of the warriors, and the Knight of Blood, because he seemed to have trouble handling his sword.

When it was over, the warriors simply faded into the shadows and were gone, leaving Sakura and Arturia Black alone. Sakura couldn't be sure if the ceremony had gone well, but at least no one had openly challenged her right to command them, which she had honestly been worried about.

They stopped by Matou's room for a quick visit, and then Arturia Black escorted Sakura home. It was understood by them both that home, for Sakura, was the Tohsaka mansion, even if the Matou mansion was a more suitable power base for Arturia Black. All that mattered was that Arturia Black could go anywhere that Sakura's shadow did, and they had yet to find a place where it could not accompany her.

Saber had recognized the presence in the Tohsaka mansion at once, though he had not commented on it to his Master, sensing that there would be a chance to address it later. Likewise, when Rin tried to introduce the two of them, only to find that "Archer" was mysteriously absent and would not appear no matter how Rin yelled for her, Saber was not surprised.

Ultimately, he doubted the truth of the legend of the Argonauts was known to many, and he could not blame Rin for being unaware of it. And he could not blame the other that the legend involved not wanting to see him, or at least not wanting to meet him in front of Rin.

So when Saber was patrolling the outskirts of the Tohsaka mansion that night, and she did appear before him, he was surprised, but at the same time, not.

"Mighty Heracles," she said softly. "It has been a long-"

For his part, Saber immediately lowered himself to the ground, and bowed his head until it touched the grass.

"What... what are you doing?" she whispered in shock.

"I beg your forgiveness, fair Atalanta. I have greatly wronged you."

"No, you haven't! You were one of the few who never disgraced-"

"And when the many who did, stained your honor, I did not stop them. I did not speak in your defense."

"I never asked you to, and wouldn't have thanked you if you had!"

"Yet I should have. What you suffered was most unfair, and unnessecary. It lowered my opinion of the men who I called my friends. I imagine it did the same for you, who wanted only to prove yourself worthy to be included in our number. To find that they had less honor than the beasts you hunted must have been a slap in the face."

"I don't ever recall mind-reading being among your talents, and I never took you into my confidence. Never presume to tell a woman her own mind."

"I have offended you once more. I apol-"

"STOP IT!" Atalanta shouted, and she grabbed his hair and yanked upward, forcing him to look at her. "I never wanted this from you!"

"But, as you would never get it from them-" Saber began.

"Why should the most honorable, apologize for the least honorable? What sense does that make? We were never friends, but I never felt dishonored in your presence. Awkward, competitive, and angry, but never dishonored. You owe me no apology, Heracles, and I won't accept one from you. Now, rise. We have other business, you and I. Concerning your Master."

Saber slowly stood up. "I assume young Rin is unaware of our past."

"I saw no reason to educate her on that point. My task was her protection, and little else. And now that you are here, my task is done. There is only thing left: I must die. And if you truly want to apologize to me, then offer me a hero's death at your hands."

Saber closed his eyes. "You would ask that of me? Of all things?"

"I know your oath. We are not kin. Comrades, yes, but-"

"Do you truly believe it is only my oath that should give me reason to hesitate? Do you think me so unfeeling, Atalanta? That I would slay my comrade upon request?"

"This is different! I need to die, and I would prefer-!"

"And if I prefer that you live?"

She froze, her eyes wide. "What are you saying?"

"Stay here. Watch over Rin. See her through as much of the War as you are able."

"Ruler would never allow that, and there is an Archer that is truly meant to be here. I don't belong here."

Saber extended his hand to her. "We can be comrades once more. You said I never disgraced you. Now, give me the chance to honor you, as I should have."

She was tempted, he could see that clearly. Whether he or Rin was the bigger lure, it was hard to say. But in the end, it was impossible. She had already accepted her fate, and his part in it.

"If you will not kill me," she said at last, "then I will ask Achilles to do it in your place."

"And you think he would agree?" Saber asked doubtfully.

"Not unless I told him that you refused. And even if it is this, to do something that mighty Heracles was unable to? I do not think he could resist."

Saber shook his head, but saw that she was determined. "If this is truly what you would ask of me, I will not refuse you. Take my hand, Atalanta."

With a trembling smile, she did so. "Thank you."

"When next we meet," Saber murmured, "I hope you will consider thinking of me as a friend."

"A god who bows to me, unneeded, on another's behalf, never has to worry about obtaining my friendship, Heracles."

This time, the thunderbolt was slightly smaller, but no less effective. Soon enough, Saber stood alone, and the only sign that he had not always been so, was the slight tingling in his hand where she had touched him.

Sakura woke up to the alarming sensation of soft, hot lips fluttering across her neck. She turned her head and opened her mouth to protest, but this only allowed the lips to come crashing down on top of hers. Hands found hers and pinned them to the bed. Sakura shivered beneath the body on top of her, and when the mouth finally left hers, said what needed to be said.

"Nee-san, please stop."

There was a long pause, and then the hands released her. But the body didn't move away, and when Sakura realized it wasn't going to, she risked a glance above her.

Rin's cheeks were wet with tears, but judging by the redness in them, she had been crying for some time before she decided to wake Sakura.

"What's wrong?" Sakura whispered.

"Archer left," Rin murmured. "I can feel it. Well, I can't feel her anymore, I mean."

"I see." Sakura gently stroked Rin's cheek. "I don't mind cuddling, but-"

"I don't get it," Rin muttered, glaring at her. "You were the one who started this. You stole my first kiss, you insisted on bathing each other, and you wanted to sleep in my bed. Now you're shy all of a sudden?"

Sakura winced. "We have... more important things to worry about now. And... I shouldn't have manipulated you that way. I'm sorry, nee-san."

"I don't want you to be sorry." Rin lowered her head, nipping at Sakura's neck. "I want you to be in the mood for things like this again."

Sakura blushed, and mentally cursed Matou. "Nee-san. Please?"

Rin sighed heavily. "If this is one of your games, it's no fun." But she rolled off of Sakura and tried to get back to sleep.

Sakura moved closer and pressed her face into Rin's back. "Don't be mad."

"Mad and disappointed are two entirely different things, Sakura."

On that much, Sakura could agree. She was extremely disappointed in Matou at the moment. And had she known what Matou was plotting at that very moment, she would have been extremely mad instead.

Souichirou Kuzuki was not a man who allowed the often abrupt nature of life to bother him. Being a teacher, he had to expect occasional, if not regular, interruptions into what otherwise would have been his daily routine.

This also applied to his personal life.

One morning, when Souichirou left the temple where he'd been staying, Caster was there to see him off.

She disappeared abruptly, having given no warning that she would do so.

And then one evening, days later, when Souichirou returned to the temple, there was a female Servant to welcome him.

It was clearly NOT the same female Servant: she appeared to be much younger, more beautiful, and far more impatient than Caster. Also, she demanded his constant attention, and generally made a nuisance of herself. And, rather than Caster, she answered to the title of True Archer.

And Souichirou... allowed this, because he sensed that, ultimately, each Servant desired the same things from him, and the rest of the world. And as he knew nothing of magic, it was not as if he knew of a way to call Caster back to him, even if he'd wanted to. But he didn't want to. Mainly because, even when his new Servant was telling him how worthless he was, or how worthless all men were... he felt something. And for Souichirou, feeling anything at all was rare enough. But in those moments, he felt... joy. It was strange, to be certain, but he didn't care. With this selfish, insulting girl at his side, his days were more meaningful than they had been. And that was enough.

There were two things that virtually all of Shinji's peers knew about him: his family was rich, and Shinji almost always had a female companion trailing along behind him. Any amount of common sense would have caused most to conclude that the latter was a direct result of the former, as Shinji's personality left much to be desired, and the only reason any sane girl would endure his company was in the hopes of being handsomely rewarded for it. And gaining Shinji's attention was simply not reward enough, in most cases.

None of this changed much even after Shinji's misadventures with Sakura, although what did change was how Shinji felt about it. Where before he delighted in the attention, now he was aware of how hollow it all was. Now, he had trouble ignoring the fact that these girls were only interested in what he could buy them, where before he hadn't minded at all (although he would often string them along for weeks at a time before opening his wallet). Even if he had been interested in using them for sex, that no longer seemed wise, given his current condition. And, too, while his newly missing hand did gain him a certain amount of sympathy, it also had the unforeseen impact of causing girls to lose interest in sleeping with him. It had never occurred to Shinji that high school girls could be just as shallow as he was, if not more.

It got to the point where Mitsuzuri, of all people, was the only girl that wanted anything to do with Shinji for purely unselfish reasons. From her, there was no pity, only actual concern and friendship. Shinji had always kept her at arm's length, knowing how pushy she could be, and preferring females he could more easily control. The realization that he wanted one of those shallow girls to care as much as Mitsuzuri clearly did bothered him. When had she become the standard for how he wanted to be treated? Probably when she'd become the only one who did care. Oh, Sakura was suddenly pleasant enough now, even formal at times. But Shinji didn't dare poke that hornet's nest again. He only had one hand left, and didn't want to lose it.

Really, it was probably for the best if he avoided girls entirely, from then on.

But before he could even make an attempt to any effort into that, something unexpected happened. One night, as he was about to go to bed, a girl appeared on his pillow. She was young, breathtaking to behold, and easily the most lovely thing Shinji had ever seen, including Sakura naked. And this girl was still fully clothed, so that was quite an accomplishment.

"I see no point in pretending," the girl said. "You are not even close to being worthy of being called my Master. Your mana is near non-existent, your power as a magus is subpar, and I can barely stand the sight of you, you're such a depressing thing. Why, I cannot even resist the urge to belittle you with every passing second." Suddenly, a bright smile bloomed on her face, only increasing her beauty. "You're perfect."

Shinji could only stare at her in awe.

Her mood shifted abruptly again, and she scowled at him. "You do not deserve it, but I will tell you my title. For this War, I am the True Assassin. But if you do not address me with the utmost respect, I will make your pitiful life even more miserable, you wriggling worm."

"I understand, Assassin-sama!" Shinji blurted out at once, kneeling on the floor.

Her lips curved into a cruel, but approving smile. "That's a start. From now on, you will be the Servant, and I will be the Master. And though I will take no pleasure in it, we must go through the motions. You need to know your place." With startling speed, she pounced on him, yanked his head up by his hair, and sank her teeth deep into his throat.

It hurt. But rapidly, Shinji felt the pain becoming pleasure, and to his amazement and embarrasment, an orgasm more powerful than anything he'd ever felt rolled through him. On the heels of that, however, was overwhelming shame, especially when he looked down, and saw the growing mess that his pants had become, stained with both his blood and lust.

She should have been disgusted by him. And especially by his blood, with it being as weak, and now tainted, as it was. And perhaps she was disgusted. But instead of showing that, she smiled for him, and twirled a lock of his hair around her finger. "You hopeless wretch," she cooed softly. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Matou wore a wide smile as she sensed the events taking shape around her.

"My perfect War is nearing completion," she whispered. "Everything is falling into place just as I'd hoped. Which means, the time has come at last." Slowly, she lifted the overly large, pulsing worm in her cupped hands, and tenderly kissed it. And then she laughed, cruelly and maniacally. The laughter cut off abruptly, and she turned to stare out of her window into the night sky.

"It's finally time for you to die, my beloved Kiritsugu." She clenched her fists and tore the worm in two, splattering its innards all over the floor.

It started as a dull, throbbing pain in his arm that night.

By morning, it was agony just to sit up in bed. And the moment Kiritsugu did so, he felt violently ill. He turned his head, thinking he would vomit, but instead his body seemed to triple in weight, and he fell, managing to avoid slamming his head into the nightstand, but instead banging his already aching arm against it. But his head and arm were the least of his problems.

He could feel the worms, having chewed through the seal on his arm, having worked their way his chest, and now feeding directly on his beating heart.

He tried to call for Shirou, but his voice failed him.

It didn't matter. In the next moment, Shirou burst into the room, either having heard Kiritsugu fall, or somehow sensing his distress. He took in the scene at a glance, then grabbed the phone from the nightstand.

Kiritsugu knew Shirou was not calling a hospital, as it would do no good, and was soon proven right.

"Rin, get over here! Kiritsugu's dying!"

Kiritsugu was offended on some level, he wasn't dead yet. But, he didn't see any way out of this, and it was right, that Rin should be here, if she could make it in time. She had duties to fullfill, and in a very real sense, she would soon be Shirou's guardian, or at least his family head.

Then Shirou gripped Kiritsugu's shoulders, and, not knowing what else to do, simply hugged his father tightly.

It did not help Kiritsugu at all, but he welcomed the distraction, and surely it was helping Shirou.

Together, they waited for the end to come.

Rin and Sakura were in such a hurry to reach the Emiya residence that they barely even noted the state of the sky.

But Saber saw it at once, and knew what it meant.

Lancer saw it as well, and though he had only heard the stories, could not mistake the meaning, either.

The sunrise had come to usher in the day, as it always had. Or tried to, anyway. But curious, red-tinted clouds had filled the sky. And though the sun itself was not visible, what little light it could send was filtered through the crimson clouds, bathing the sky a bloody red.

"Olympus protect us," Lancer muttered. "We're in the damned Temple of Blood itself."

End of Chapter 6.

Continued in Chapter 6: A Family Divided

With his end fast approaching, Kiritsugu startles his students with a seemingly impossible deathbed request. Shirou refuses, but Rin doesn't hesitate, and the fallout leaves a rift between them that may never be healed. But with mysterious disappearances and attacks on the rise all over the city, this is no time for the Tohsaka family to be distracted.

Endnotes:

To the person who asked (but didn't leave a way to contact them - why even bother to ask?): I've now glanced at Garden of Avalon. I'm not sure why it matters to you, but all it has done is increased my desire to use a different version of events. So, if like I suspect, you were thinking my use of the characters was a bit too off-base, prepare for that to be even more the case. In general, my approach to fanfiction is to make things different from canon. How different varies, but obviously in this case, very different. I wish I could go into more detail, but since you didn't, I really have no idea what exactly you're commenting on. Again, if you're expecting a direct, private response, leave a way for me to do that.

Depending on the source, Atalanta either was an Argonaut, was one but the guys weren't happy about it, wanted to be one but wasn't allowed, or refused to be one when invited. And that's enough negative versions for me to think that ultimately, probably wasn't a wholly positive experience for her no matter how it went down. So this is the version I'm going with: she was one, the guys mostly didn't like it, Heracles could have spoken up for her but didn't. Though as she said, she would have taken much more offense if he'd tried to defend her.

I didn't exactly put it in her bio, but according to the Type Moon wiki, young Medusa and her sisters all have voices capable of a sort of fascination magic. I say exactly because it is called Alluring Nightingale, which I did include.

You're probably thinking, way too many Servants at once. Well, that's true. But keep in mind: Caster and now Seer (who was preventing True Archer from being summoned), have gone, and the latest two (True) arrivals have filled those spots. Which, yes, is still too many Servants, but not so many: Mordred is an extra Class, there are two Assassins, and no Caster... sort of. More on that next time.

Did I mention I don't like Shinji?

There's probably much more I wanted to comment on, but I can't think of anything just now, so please ask questions or comment if you're confused.

Next time, bios for True Archer and True Assassin.

BIOS:

Mordred Pendragon

Noble Phantasm:
(Inversion) Back to My Pride: Rank Unknown

Mordred could never truly appreciate her father's habit of standing alone between an oncoming threat and the kindgom. And yet, she would do the same, not for kingdom, but for family. If Mordred determines that something is a significant threat to her family, she may evade any obstacle in order to confront the threat.

Atalanta
A.K.A. "Archer", False Archer
Class: Seer
For one who already possessed an Archer's superior eyesight, an evolution of that Class, based entirely on the amplification of vision, is a natural choice. As the name suggests, a Seer peers into the time stream, and reacts based on what they find. For Atalanta, who could already control the flow of battle whether she moved first or last, this is hardly an adjustment.

Class Skills:
Soothsaying: B
The ability to accurately view, interpret, and relay prophecy to others. Atalanta's rank is lowered because she is forbidden to give prophecy to those it involves, so for the most part, her soothsaying is for the sake of increasing her own knowledge of events.

Independent Action: A

Pre-Evasion: A
Rather than Magic Resistance, the Seer class features Pre-Evasion, a Skill that allows them to peer slightly into the future, spot incoming attacks, and either react before they hit, or are even launched, depending on the user's rank. This Skill tends to be highly ranked by necessity, as due to a lack of Magic Resistance, Seers do not typically fair well against highly ranked magecraft.

Riding: C
Having been raised by a female bear, Atalanta learned to ride on its back at a very young age. Additionally, her fellow hunters taught her to ride horses. Being summoned as a Seer gives her easy access to those memories, and so, she has Riding once more. Now, however, the most common usage is driving Rin to and from school.

Personal Skills:
Crossing Arcadia: B+

Brightest Star Beneath the Sky: B
Atalanta no longer carries her bow and arrows. There is no need. Artemis has granted her command over every star in the sky, and Apollo every ray of sunlight. Without even a gesture, she can bury a target under a shower of plummeting stars, or impale with burning sunbeams.

Divine Eyes: EX
Atalanta's lifelong devotion to the goddess Artemis, and the wellfare of children, earned her the distinction of being blessed by both Artemis and Apollo. This takes the form of two Divine Constructs: a special pair of eyes that allow her to view the flow of time. The Ray of Apollo peers into the future, as the Glow of Artemis gazes into the past. They are the key to Atalanta's power as a Seer, and while she would not be powerless if they were sealed, it would reduce her abilities to that of an Archer.

Noble Phantasms:
Endless Reign: B+
In tribute to the twin gods who favor her, Atalanta summons a never-ending barrage. The B+ rank is misleading, as the attack also boasts EX rank accuracy and a gradually increasing critical hit ratio. After but a few seconds, it is even capable of destroying lower rank Noble Phantasms.
Where Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon boasts the terrifying power of "a variety of heroic death tools", Atalanta wields the equally frightening power of "the inability to miss weak points". Her eyes reveal a target's legendary weaknesses, and her attacks never fail to strike those points. The only way to survive her assault is to end her attack immediately, but that would require either darkening every star in the sky, or blocking out the sun.

Aboard the Argo: B
Atalanta recieves a Rank Up in Luck when in the presence of a male Argonaut. Not due to any sort of friendship, but out of a burning desire to prove her worthiness and quiet their naysaying.

Arturia Alter
A.K.A. "Arturia Black"
Class(es): Assassin, Avenger
History: It should not be possible for this Servant to be summoned in this Class. And yet, one cannot deny the ease with which she wields the power of darkness, how perfectly she drifts in and out of the shadows, the dark determination with which she serves her Master. So, it should not be possible for this Servant to be summoned in this Class. And yet, it should not be possible for this Class to exist, without the possibility of summoning this Servant. For when the King of Knights is dyed in darkness, and unsheathes her black Excalibur in her Master's defense, lives will certainly be lost.

Class Skills:
Magic Resistance: B - EX
Her natural defense against magic is considerable, but not complete. But in this state, it rarely applies at all. The Shadow defends her from all manner of attack. Only on her own, or her Master's orders, would the Shadow allow an opponent's attack to touch her form.

Presence Concealment: EX
Her armor is heavy with mana and clanks when she walks, and her very aura screams of overwhelming power. How, then, could she possibly conceal her presence? The answer: the Shadow. It accompanies her always, swallowing up any noise her movement makes, erasing her presence entirely as it does its own, instantly transporting her through solid matter to strike down her targets. This Skill, at this rank, via this method, would normally only apply to someone blessed (or cursed) with Affections of the Holy Grail. But to suggest that she is not favored by some Grail, somewhere, would be to deny the obvious.

Personal Skills:
Charisma: D
Arturia's admission of imperfection ironically renewed the faith of her closest followers, and though she is convinced she does not deserve their loyalty, she holds it close and treasures it.

Instinct: B

Mana Burst: A

Noble Phantasms:
Excalibur Morgan: A++
Though Invisible Air would be a natural choice to sheathe Excalibur in this Class, it is absent. One might assume that Excalibur Morgan is too powerful, or perhaps too dark, to be compatible with a blessing originally bestowed upon an untainted Arturia. In any case, Excalibur Morgan can be summoned instantly to Arturia's hand. And with no sheathe, it is up to the foe's defenses to either survive a direct blow from the mighty sword, or be swept away like ashes.

Assassins of the Round: Rank Varies
In response to Arturia being summoned in this Class, a new legend was crafted for her by the Holy Grail on the spot. Camelot did not so much fall as cease to exist, with the abrupt disappearance of its greatest knights. The astonished and heartbroken people searched in vain for an answer as to why the Knights of the Round vanished. They could never understand: upon glimpsing the truth of her reign as a hollow existence doomed to fail, Arturia abandoned Camelot. She chose to submerge herself in the world's darkness, hoping that such a drastic departure from her ideals would teach her the whole meaning of perfect kingship. Instead, she was shocked when her former knights, even the ones who had turned away from her or plotted her downfall, followed her, their loyalty renewed by her admission of imperfection and quest to improve. "If you had tried to keep your kingdom, I would have destroyed you," the Knight of Blood admitted. "But now I see that despite their great power, neither of my parents is perfect. If there is still much you can learn about being a king, then there must be even more that I can learn from continuing as your sword." Where Arturia goes, they will follow. Knights no more: blood is their drink, death their food, and shadows their armor. Blades pledged to the unending darkness beneath the empty Round Table...