I do not own Fate/Stay Night nor any other Servants depicted here.

Insanity Begins

Darkness. Total darkness. A great emptiness. Then, a pinprick of light. It grew larger and larger until it became big enough for a single story building. Then, it stepped through. A tall and masterfully crafted suit of armor stepped through the glowing pink and red portal. It was a deep dark blue color with some sort of long skirting with the same color. It had a horned, laughing skull on the utility belt. It had a golden two-headed eagle on the left pauldron and a green hydra on the right pauldron. Two metal draconic heads with glowing red mouths decorating the backpack, one on each side. An ornate helm, with red glowing eyes and squarish horns topped it off. In his right hand he held a metal staff with two blades rising from the top.

"I wish an audience, Angra Mainyu."

At that very instant, the world became a deep, dark blue.

"What does your Master want now... Sindri Myr?" asked All The World's Evils, taking the form of a humanoid shadow.

The sorcerer could only chuckle darkly and say, "My Lord wishes to... 'donate'... another soul to your little game." He then held up his free hand, revealing a small, blood red crystal oval in shape in the palm.

"Is that so... why does your Master want to 'donate' this to me?" questioned the shadow, "While the previous bargain was acceptable, what does he have to offer in return this time."

"In fact, it is not just my Lord this time. Another Lord, a Prince wishes to participate in this wonderful event," the sorcerer explained, "This particular soul, the Prince wishes to put it through a trial, to see if this soul is worthy of becoming one with him. If, say, this soul doesn't succeed, you may keep it. If it does, enough power shall be given to you in return for your efforts. Much like the last time."

The shadow remained silent, as if thinking. Then, it moved towards him and plucked the precious stone out of the palm of his gauntlet. "Please, relay to your Prince my grateful thanks," Angra Mainyu told him, "I will put this to good use."

"Assuredly so," Sindri agreed. As he turned to face the portal, he said further, "If I may, I would suggest you place that soul under Lancer. My former Class may also apply but... we should not make things too easy for it."

"I shall take that into consideration, Sindri Myr."

"Very well. I wish you well in your War, so to say," the sorcerer wished, getting the last word as he stepped through the portal. As the portal closed, knowing that his voice wont be traveling through it anytime soon, he said, "Not that it matters. In the end, the Architect's plans succeed in the end." One could hear him smiling under that helm.

Snow crinkled and cracked underfoot. Little feet ran through the snow laden forest, the howl of wolves filling the air behind her. In her arms she clutched a slab of rock half the size of her body. Heavy was her breath and could be seen in the frosty air. Illyasviel von Einzbern did not care for that. Her white dress was in tatters but she paid no heed to that either. What she felt now was anger; angry that she was tossed out in the woods to summon her Servant, angry that the wolves had decided to disrupt her summoning, angry at herself that she wasn't fast enough to complete the summoning. All she could do now was run and hope the wolves give up chase, then she could start again. But, she could feel herself slowing down, her legs straining to listen to her mind, her arms aching at carrying the slab of rock with her. With this much on her mind, she somehow missed an overgrown root and she tripped over; the slab was dropped and she tumbled over in the snow. Turning around on the snow, she could see the chasing wolves slowing down and moving to surround her. Scrambling to grab the slab, she backed herself against the tree, holding it in front of her like a makeshift shield.

"No! I cannot die now! I have to finish the summoning!" she screamed in her mind as the wolves circled around her. Attempting to calm herself and do what must be done in spite of the wolves circling her, she chanted, "Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve under me and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer if you will submit to this truth and this will. An oath shall be sworn here. I shall attain all the virtues in Heaven..."

Her chant suddenly interrupted as one of the wolves suddenly leaped at her; she pushed against it with the slab. Her arms already tired, strained and screamed as they pushed and held the wolf back, all the while she continued chanting, "... I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell. Yet you shall serve with your eyes clouded by chaos. For you would be one caged in madness. I shall wield your chains."

The strain on her arms suddenly relaxed, the wolf retreating for no apparent reason. Surprised, she could not react in time; the slab fell down, the piece of rock it was. She didn't dare to grab it again, for surely the wolves would lunge at her. She could only complete the chant and hope that Berserker would be summoned in time.

"From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the Holy Balance."

Nothing happened.

She blinked. Did she forget something? Was there a word out of place? She didn't know. All she knew was that her Servant did not come forth. Faced with the wolves, instead of feeling afraid, she was angry.

"After all that, I failed? Damn these wolves!" she raged as she glared at the predators, as if challenging them to come, "If they want to feast, then let them. I hope to choke them with my bones." All that preparation was for nothing. She wouldn't get to participate in the war. She wouldn't be able to win. Worst of all, she wouldn't get to meet the boy that took her father away from her. She wouldn't be able to get revenge.

One of the wolves then took a running leap at her. She stared angrily at it; at its drooling and gaping maw, at its sharp teeth, at it's hungry eyes. Then...

Blood.

A jagged blade, buried into the side of the leaping wolf. The markings that she could see burned orange. The blade was connected to a long chain. It was tugged. The chain, blade and wolf flew back to its owner, who roared in rage. All anger left her and she was amazed at his strength; the blade returned to his hand and the wolf's head landed in the other. With one swift motion, he tore the blade out of it, nearly separating the body into two. The wolves seem to be drawn to the newcomer, all of them moving to surround him. With a growl, the man reached to his back and pulled the blade's twin. Both parties stared at each other; the man turning around as if taking stock of how many wolves there were, the pack instinctively formed a circle around him to ensure their prey does not escape. Then, both sides attacked.

Raising his arms to his chest, the man threw out his blades to the sides, impaling two leaping ones on each side. Tugging the chains, he swung his arms up; the blades followed direction, the bodies of the dead animals getting thrown off like rag dolls into their brethren. Then, he lowered himself down, swinging his arms back; the blades, floating limply in the air seconds earlier, flew down and arced with deadly accuracy into the jaws of another pair of wolves. His body was readied like a spring, his legs pushing against the ground as he went airborne; the blades were ripped out of the meat and bone with such force that it drew even more blood out of the deceased. He landed, pulling the chains with all his might; they seemed to be ablaze with orange flames as they impacted the final victim, the metal cutting through the body like a hot knife, crushing bone like it was paper.

The remaining wolves ran away with their tails between their legs, their instinct finally overriding their hunger. Her anger had all but washed away at that display of power. She actually did it. She actually summoned a Servant of the Berserker class. Though granted he didn't seem to match the description of Hercules but no matter. His power, his prowess and those chained blades would definitely make up for that.

He then stepped up to her, his rage seemingly abated, and knelt before her. She smiled gratefully at him.

"You look weak." he told her upfront. She would have started shouting at him had he not continued, "Yet as I came forth, I saw a little girl staring defiantly at a vicious looking wolf. To stare so defiantly at death in the face tells me otherwise. For now... you are my Master."

He was impeccably dressed in white. Jubstacheit von Einzbern awaited patiently for Illyasviel to return; the castle gates would remain open until night. If she should not return, then... he would have to make another. She sees him as her grandfather. In context, he would agree as he was the one who made Irisviel, his greatest achievement to date. He poured much of his time training and grooming her to be the Einzbern's next representative for the next War; an equal amount of effort was taken to secretly procure materials from the Greater Grail itself to try and summon a Servant. He greatly hoped that it was worth doing so. It would be quite a shame for all this to fail.

Two specks in the distance interested him greatly. As they came nearer, he frowned. Yes, the young homunculus was able to summon a Servant, that much seemed true. Yet, he was somewhat disappointed in the Servant that was called forth. A bald muscular man with a black goatee clad in a loincloth held up by a bronze belt. A few pieces of golden armor adorned his right shoulder and lower arm. The left side of his body had a red tattoo snaking around it. A pair of handles seem to be coming from his back, probably his weapons. A mix of leather, metal and chains seem to make up his arm and wrist guards. The oddest thing was the Servant's skin; it was as pale as the full moon at night. No where in the legends and myths described Hercules like this. She most likely made some mistake and called forth the wrong Servant.

"I have returned, grandfather," she said, holding on to the slab of rock close to her side.

He took a few seconds to look over the Servant and the homunculus. The Servant didn't seem to care but she seemed to be nervously calm. He then cleared his throat and said, "I feel a little disappointed. To think after all that was provided to you, you still summoned the wrong Servant. I doubt he could even compare to Hercules him..."

"Berserker! Lay down your arms!" she suddenly shouted.

A magus walks with death. But never had he been so close to death as he was now. He could barely feel the the jagged edge of Berserker's blade on the side of his neck, a hair's breath away.

"I owe much to my grandfather. It is thanks to him I am able to call you out, Berserker," she addressed the enraged Servant calmly, "So, if you would please let him off, just this once."

The man growled but withdrew his blade, but he did give Acht this warning, "Say that name again and there will be nothing left to bury you with."

Annoyingly, the homunculus quipped, "I am fine with that."

The old magus harrumphed and explained calmly as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, "I am merely concerned. I have never heard of a Berserker such as yourself, thus I question whether your powerful enough to aid her in winning the Grail for us."

The Servant glared at him; he did not flinch, he only stared back, fully expecting an answer.

"I will only tell you this," the Servant finally said. Acht waited patiently for it. Yet, what he got, he did not expect. "Lack of belief did not end the... Age of the Gods," the Servant spat out in contempt, the last few words he uttered more harshly than the others.

"...I did."

Commentary:-

Well, not as long as many of you would probably want... but I think it makes a good prologue. Welcome back, dear readers, to the sequel of Fate Level Zero. Named Fate/New Game Plus. This chapter started this way since I did read that little Illya summoned Berserker a whole two months in advance. After reading that, I was thinking I had better get this out of the way then since this being the earliest summoning. Not to worry, the rest of the other Servant intro's will be done in the next chapter. Rest assured I will try to make them as weird as this one. Most definitely.

Now, that aside, I can already guess everyone knows who Berserker is. Right? I think I pretty much gave a good description of him, as well as a bit of his notoriety. And then... there's Sindri. Yes, there will be another Warhammer 40k character, but this time in the Lancer class. Why another, you ask? Well, mostly because of that little black book that was created in the previous fic. As to who is being offered? Well, the clues are that little red crystal... and the aforementioned Prince.

And last but not least, would you kindly review?