Hello, everyone. This is ekaterina016, bringing you a re-publishing of the spinoff to my main Heroic Vessel series, HV-E01: Illusory Reality by Erithemaeus (formerly Broken Paladin). I am the main beta for this short story, and have received permission from its original author to re-publish this in my site, because they cleaned house and removed this from their list of stories, and due to popular demand for the series's readers. A new re-write is in the works in the near future, but for those of you who craved for the old one, here it is.

I will update subsequent chapters over the next few weeks, spaced a few days apart. Note this AN may be repeated later on in future chapters, so please don't decry the boring copies and simply enjoy the story. Very minimal changes will be made, perhaps only the mistakes I missed during my first beta run-through. You can send your questions to either me or Erithemaeus regarding this story, both via review and PM, as usual.

Let me know what you think, as well as give a shout-out to Erithemaeus, once again. Enjoy!

The Holy Grail War. A seven-way battle between myths of legendary renown, tasked to fight under a number of magi in order to retrieve the Holy Grail. The winner of the Holy Grail War got the chance to make a wish from the legendary chalice itself, even though the act of 'winning' said war implied the individual was willing to stoop to newfound lows in order to achieve victory. In fact, I didn't know that the Holy Grail would choose its champion based on their bloodthirstiness. If that criterion was to be applied, then it would most certainly be applied to me, slayer of fourteen billion souls... twice over.

But I wasn't here to rant about the inherent flaws of the ritual itself. In fact, I was quite a long distance away from Fuyuki City, Japan, checking up on one of my other projects currently situated in the Clock Tower.

A twist of space here, a fiddle with the time axis there, and I found myself standing in an ethereal realm, guarded by constructs of crystal which were whisked away with a huff and a wave of the wrist. One step rang throughout the crystalline space, and the sound of crystals shattering through time and space could be heard ringing through my ears as I grasped upon my prize – a simple box, contained within the very center of the realm.

However, I was stopped by something poking me from the back, before I could even take a step.

"Whatever you're doing, get out."

I turned around, catching the old man's blue eyes, filled with anger. Said anger fell to confusion, realization, and finally, resignation. A crystalline blade was stored back into the Victorian-era garb the old man wore, and was replaced with a cane the old man leaned upon.

"…this is quite an unexpected visit. At my Workshop, nonetheless?"

"It was the only way I could get your attention."

A sound of annoyance escaped the old man's nostrils, and he began walking past me, nudging me to the side with a poke of his cane. "Really, if you weren't who you are, then I'd have torn you apart in the space between dimensions already…" I could hear him mutter various kinds of obscenity at me, and I could only smile as the old man reached into the box and pulled out… a pair of mundane glasses. "Here," he said, thrusting the accessory onto my hands as I put it on without preamble, wincing as an ear-splitting scream went off close to my ear. "…well, it seems that it worked a little too well, seeing as you're currently bleeding through your ears."

Am I? I patted my right ear, and brought the hand up to my face, finding a smudge of golden blood smeared across my palm. So this was pain. "Thank you for your work, Zelretch."

"Not me," the old man replied, blue eyes glancing to one side, "…you can thank Aozaki Touko for that. It was hard to get the specifications correctly, but it seems like it worked. It's another Sealing Designation on the list for her."

"Indeed. Limiting the output of one such as mine is more than enough cause for an uplifting. I'll see to it that she goes under the review for the Throne," I replied, and a grimace escaped Zelretch's lips.

"I don't think she'll like that. She loves living."

"Ah. Then eliminate the process of soul rot?" I tilt my head to the side, and Zelretch almost crushed his cane. My lips quirk up in a smile, amusement and mischief shines through my eyes. "…I was joking, of course. Even for me, there are still things I can't do."

"You created humans."

"Fair point, but that was only due to spending an extremely long amount of time, and my blueprints for them were taken away when the Age of Gods came to an end. I'm sure the pantheon took it away just in case I was planning to go and create more." A sigh escapes my lips, and I shake my head at that.

Humans were, frankly, quite complicated creations. Not only do they have to be self-evolving, they must also receive the gift of 'free will', or the ability to impose the concept of change onto their surroundings. Of course, this could lead to… disastrous consequences, which resulted in several direct summoning towards the affected areas, but the Human Order has turned out fine, if I dare say so myself.

…or, at least, the ones that I have been to before.

"So… no 'original' humans?"

"I'm afraid not. I'll try and recreate them, but I'm sure it'll take some time. Could you send that to Touko, please?"

Zelretch blinked, and turned towards me with a frown on his face. "…why don't you do it yourself?"

A chuckle rises out of my lips, and I step forward, grasping the threads of space and time once more and weaving it according to my will. Before I left the space, however, I saved one last message for Zelretch. A proverb that I have lived for during my existence, and one that I would not stop believing until the cessation of Akasha itself. "Frankly, because that woman scares me."

With that, I left, ending back out of the 'clock tower' which seemed to attract endless foreigners to the land of England. Another hum rose out of my lips, a double-decker bus sprinting through the area as a palm met my cheek, a realization coursing through me at the remembrance of Zelretch's now-blue eyes.

"…my. It would seem like the final pieces still needed a little push."

The Einzbern Fortress located somewhere in Germany... was a fortress. Bordered by Bounded Fields which could stand the impact of nuclear missiles, it was primarily used for the main defensive base and location detection of potential enemies for the Einzbern house. As a line renowned for their peerless quality in producing homunculi which could match even lower-tier Heroic Spirits, such a defense is both a necessity and a direct result of their actions.

Yet this man… woman… thing had just waltzed right through without even breaking a sweat. As if the thing's signature was detected by the Bounded Field, yet identified the signature as one of their own. Granted, the thing could pass for an Einzbern homunculus, given his silver hair, but his heterochromatic eyes were never seen in any of their homunculi.

Knowing this, Acht von Einzbern had sent teams of combat homunculi to destroy the trespasser, but the thing slipped through them without a change in pace, freezing them solid without even a single chant. It was as if the homunculi were stopped in time itself, but the glazed look in their eyes meant that they had obviously died. But what could've caused such an event? Granted, there was an ultimate threshold which dictated the absolute limit wherein ordinary molecules just stopped, but such a thing had been impossible to achieve with technology.

But if science couldn't accomplish such a thing…

Acht's face paled, staring at the visage of the Magician strutting about the inside of his castle, whistling a jaunty tune with hands inside of its pockets. More combat homunculi were sent out, but they too were frozen in place, their glazed eyes revealing their deaths – again without so much as a scratch laid upon them.

Immediately, the Bounded Field activated, but the Magician still walked, not even keeling over at the induced gravity caused by the field. It was as if the Bounded Field hadn't even realized the person itself, but only reacted due to the deed – the fields were only activated by the deaths of the combat homunculi, and not due to it detecting the intruder inside the castle.

The ancient golem immediately began thinking of the Magician's motive, but soon found it moot. No one could understand the mind of a Magician. There was a reason as to why Zelretch's apprentices returned, more often than not, broken by horrors beyond their imagination. Magicians were the ultimate existences, their powers gifted to them by the Root. It didn't matter if they barge in for personal or economic reasons – or even if they just did it for the act itself; what mattered was dealing with the consequences.

Acht von Einzbern hadn't known how or why his family had incurred the ire or curiosity of a Magician. Only after getting out of this event alive, then he would make sure to interrogate each and every single member to see if they had somehow caused this event.

Or, that was the Einzbern head's original plan… if it were not for the simple act of someone tapping on his shoulder.

"What is it, you pathetic excuse for a-"

He paused. Or, on the contrary, stopped, due to the sheer amount of intent radiated by the Magician in one single instant. A second later, Acht heard the sound of water dripping, even though any sort of liquid unenchanted by spells or insulated in the castle would no doubt be frozen solid. Wide, fearful eyes turned towards the Magician, noticing that the once-mirthful eyes had turned hard, and the heterochromatic orbs of purple and gold burned into the golem's own.

An instant later, the temperature was raised in an instant, and with it came the abrupt combustion of Acht's body. A scream escaped from his lips, but the golem's body had already fused with the floor, all turning into glazed black by the sheer heat of the event. The golem's hand passed through his other arm, and Acht's eyes widened at his new state of being. A second later, he turned towards the Magician… and promptly realized his mistake.

The Magician was staring right back at him.

Baleful heterochromatic eyes narrowed at the golem, and fear passed through Acht's soul. Another second passed, and a lance of pure pain erupted all throughout the golem's body. He screamed for help, but didn't receive any, as the Magician simply left the room... as Acht von Einzbern's body was turned into a glazed sculpture, and his soul tortured for the rest of eternity.

"There you are, little fellow," the Heroic Vessel said with a smile on its face, polishing the bronze cup before laying it down in the center of the Greater Grail, a patronizing smile on its face. "Well, this means that all that needs to be done is to make sure that everything goes exactly as planned."

"It isn't going to happen," Zelretch blurted out, and immediately cursed himself as the Heroic Vessel stared back towards him. Put on the spot, the Kaleidoscope remembered a piece of information he had found whilst observing another parallel universe. "The Fourth Holy Grail War is part of a Quantum Time Lock caused by Alaya, to universally herald the birth of the person known as Emiya Shirō. You should know this."

"Indeed, little Shirō is destined to be a hero, in one way or another." The Heroic Vessel stated with a smile. "Yet, part of a Heroic Vessel's arsenal is the ability to cut through fate. Just as Emiya Shirō's fate would turn him into a hero in one form or another, it is also part of a Heroic Vessel's ability to defy fate and cast Emiya Shirō as nothing but a civilian, unimportant in later happenings. You should know this."

Zelretch let out a sigh. Being one of the individuals who had seen Alaya's latest plan in action, there was no doubt in a Heroic Vessel's ability to change fate. Quantum Time Locks, said to be utterly impenetrable to allow humanity's movement forward, were broken, shattered beyond all recognition as the sacrifice of a Heroic Vessel killed any lingering thoughts of Anti-Semitism and Imperialism which would've sparked another World War. It was eerie, seeing one individual change what was supposed to be an unchangeable event, but such was the power of the Heroic Vessel. As long as they work for the betterment of humanity, they were untouchable existences, far above the TYPEs themselves.

'I'm sure that 'nuclear weapons test' in South America was the result of this Heroic Vessel's match with ORT.'

A supposedly-unkillable being in the eyes of Man, slain by the ultimate expression of Man. How ironic, and yet at the same time, hopeful. Once again, Zelretch felt a small smile tug upon his lips, thankful for the Heroic Vessel's restoration of his humanity, and a pang of what was formerly known as hope once again crossed his heart.

Truly, Heroic Vessels are terrifying indeed.

"What are you thinking about now?"

Kaleidoscope perks up, seeing those watchful and curious eyes stare right into his own. No doubt, what lied behind that mask of humanity was something inhuman; one didnot gain power without Equivalent Exchange, after all, and Zelretch learned the hard way that absolute power belied the absolute loss of humanity. No doubt, he was already seeing infinitely-tiny cracks on the Heroic Vessel's visage, and as much as it wanted to play human, Zelretch now had both perspectives on 'humane' disguises as a former inhuman, so it's quite futile.

Just now, a thought crossed his mind, and the Kaleidoscope hoped that the Heroic Vessel's answer would give him more answers, instead of questions. "…were you originally human?"

The Heroic Vessel stilled, a picture of complete silence greeting Zelretch's question, as the yawning maw of silence looms beyond. Once again, Zelretch could feel a primal fear – one that of the inhuman – and took a step back with his cane raised at the ready. A second later, and the façade was once again cast off, a mix of expressions between nervousness, annoyance, and melancholy crossing over the Heroic Vessel's face.

"…let's start with my name," the Heroic Vessel said, conjuring a mass of illusory stars from its palm.

Zelretch sighed, a portal springing up from behind him, as his favorite leather chair sprung out from the crystalline structure. 'If this is going to be long, then I might as well get comfortable while I'm at it.'

The clock was close to midnight, and the air was silent, an air of bated breath escaping the man's lips while staring at the perfect runic circle.

Risei had to cancel their earlier plans. Plans involving years in the making, as far back as six years ago. Plans which were supposed to induct Kotomine Kirei into their own. All because of an unwanted third party suddenly joining in at the last minute. One who they could not risk deceiving, in fear of possible retaliation.

A Magician.

'For all of the goddamn ways for this to screw up at the last moment…'

Tōsaka Tokiomi released a sharp breath, a heave of annoyance which wouldn't go away even with continuous breathing exercises. It was as if the cold hands of fate didn't want him to get ahold of the Grail. All his life, he had prepared for these few weeks, for the singular moment wherein he would be able to reach Akasha with his own two hands… yet the chance was suddenly yanked away, by an individual who had touched the Root with his own hands… and wanted nobody else to take it.

Rage burned through Tokiomi's bones, tempered with years of experience so it moved on as quickly as it came in. Of course, selfishness wasn't the only reason as to why a Magician, of all people, would participate in something like the Holy Grail War. No one knew what a Magician's thoughts were like, except for another Magician. Maybe Zelretch would understand… after all, he had been the one to announce to the Clock Tower that a new Magician had been borne into the ranks of magi.

A thirst for knowledge soon overcame the initial bout of rage, and the Tōsaka head began to think. What was the Sorcery that the new Magician had mastered? Considering the Holy Grail War still existed, that meant Heaven's Feel was still available to be taken. It meant his choices were either limited to the First, or the Fourth. Not much was said about the Fourth, considering no other records existed about it, and the First was not the Sorcery the new Magician had taken. The abilities Zelretch had told the rest of the council weren't reminiscent to the Denial of Nothingness.

Therefore, by virtue of elimination, the new Magician possessed the Fourth Sorcery. An unknown, stacked upon an unknown… Another exasperated sigh came out of Tokiomi's mouth. No other information, even though his spies at the Clock Tower had been scrounging the entire place for months in order to get a lead on this new Magician. If there wasn't an actual image of the man and a transcript of his demonstrated abilities, then Tōsaka was sure the Kaleidoscope was all but playing a prank on them.

But the image was very much real, and so was the transcript. Therefore, the new Magician was as real as they come.

Once more, Tokiomi sighed.

By the Root, did he hate unknowns…

Waver Velvet experienced two things at once as of the moment: exuberance, and a healthy dose of fear. Who knew that the friend that he made all those months ago was actually a Magician?! And a participant in the Holy Grail War, no less. What did he want, really? He was a Magician, for goodness's sake! A living miracle! The apex of humanity!

A conversation from long before flashed across Waver's mind, and a frown formed on his face. Maybe…

He shook his head, clearing that particular line of thought out of his mind. Waver needed to summon a Servant, and the relic that he needed was going to help him do so. A red cloth, obtained from somewhere in Macedonia… and one which he stole from his teacher, right under his nose.

Guilt washed through his body for an instant, before grim determination took hold. His goal once again shined through, and coal orbs burned in the night, before he held out his right arm towards the runic circle and chanted.

The words flowed from his body without much preamble, and a spike of pain lanced through his hand as soon as he finished his chant. He held on with gritted teeth, however, remembering the words his friend had said before they left. Mustering up the last efforts of his will, he screamed out the last lines of his chant and promptly collapsed to his knees, the exhaustion taking its toll.

A gale blasted out from the center of the circle, blowing back Waver's neck-length hair. A figure appeared from the shell of wind, a red cloak with golden highlights billowing in it. Somehow, a grin found its way upon Waver's face, but the achievement was somehow muted by the fact that the figure had immediately come to his side and swept him up with a single arm.

Waver yelped, the undignified sound crossing his lips as the rasp of steel echoed throughout the small forest clearing. The young magus' mind just barely comprehended what was going on, before the rasp of steel sang through the air and pointed towards the shadows.

"To the individual who has been spying on my master, on the name of Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, step out... before I make you!"

Leaves shifted, and Waver's reactions were dulled, only feeling indignation at the fact someone had managed to sneak up on him while he was doing the summoning ritual, and his Servant had just said his true name out loud! A groan escaped his lips, and a chuckle came from the shadows, as if laughing at his misfortune.

A few seconds later, a human figure stepped out of the shadows, and Waver's eyes bugged out at the sight of a young man, wearing simple clothing. His black hair fell down in a disorganized mess, and his heterochromatic eyes stared into Waver's own, a thin smile stretched on the young man's face.

"Kajiya-san?"

The newly-minted 'Magician' smiled, waving at the young magus whilst ignoring the steel pressed against his neck. "Hello, Waver. Could you let me go, just this once? I still have something to discuss with you."

Waver sighed from the nook of his Servant's arm. Today was just not going to plan.