Blake watched the door across from him with anticipation, and even the annoyance of the flickering light did nothing to dampen his growing excitement. The cold bricks of the alleyway wall burned against his back, even through the thick cotton of his hoody, and his every breath was momentarily visible before the night stole it away.

It wouldn't be the same as the real thing, he knew, it never was.

This place was just so different from before and all the time he spent here seemingly did nothing to alleviate that growing dissonance, these people said things to each other in passing that would have drawn swords to take their heads, but here it was all just talk. Words, insults, and a complete lack of honor.

It was a disgusting place, but perhaps that was all someone like him deserved in the end, Blake wished he was satisfied to have had a second chance at life, but this place just felt like an unending punishment instead.

He could hear voices on the other side of the door now, and he found himself smiling.

There was no honor here, no duels to the death, no meaning to reputation, at least not like he was used to, if anything you were punished by the commoners for even having a reputation for violence here, it was absurd.

He had sought out the closest thing he could find to what he knew, but even that was a pale imitation. Fighting in illegal tournaments for money and reputation, helped him keep in control if nothing else but they always stopped the fights before either side died, which was just another peculiarity of this place.

What point was there to a conflict, if the victor hadn't won? If the loser still walked among the living? Why bother having it in the first place if it no longer held any meaning? Every time they let another walk away it should have drawn mocking jeers and calls of cowardice, but instead, the opposite was true, they held mercy up as some kind of virtuous code of twisted honor.

Blake tried his best to understand it regardless, but there was always something more jarring laying in weight, some other strangeness that sent him into a downward spiral of dark thoughts once more. The fighting rings getting shut down by a combined force of police and military were only the latest in a series of absurdities that were going to lead him on a path of further pointless violence that would do nothing to dissuade these fools.

That was why he was here, three groups had been entirely left alone by the authorities during the raids, their businesses left completely untouched, and their interests secured. It was obvious that they'd been the ones to bring it all crumbling down, and stolen the only thing he had left that could bring some stability to his second life.

The door opened across from him, and music poured out into the alleyway followed by a series of loud voices as a trio of woman stumbled outside giggling to each other, and headed further down the alleyway, and the door shut behind them almost immediately. Blake paid little attention to them, even when they made some lewd but intriguing gestures at him.

Blake let himself lean back against the wall of the alleyway again, forcing himself back into stillness.

One of the three groups had several members who almost religiously came to this club or so he'd been told, and the car that was parked at the end of the alleyway was the exact car they were supposed to be running around with. They would come out eventually, and he would get to sate his urge for a fight, or a pale imitation of one at least. Since they had taken something from him, Blake was sure they wouldn't mind the momentary compensation.

It took three more groups leaving, and over half an hour before he recognized the faces of his chosen opponents as they stepped out of the club and into the alleyway, but they barely glanced at him as they laughed amongst themselves.

Blake immediately stepped forward to block their path.

"What's up, man?" The tallest guy said grinning. "You got a problem with us?"

"Yes," Blake confirmed easily, "We will be fighting now, prepare yourselves."

Blake pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them in front of him, before leaning forward slightly as the tall guy started laughing uproariously at the comment, but one of the women looked hesitant and stepped backward away from them.

"You want to fight all of us?" The guy with blond hair said bewildered. "You're joking, right?"

"Probably just a druggie," Another of the group said flippantly, "Let's move it along, I have a bottle to get back to."

Blake just watched them quietly, waiting, as the tall guy stepped forward casually and reached out to grip the front of his shirt. Blake considered that the start of the fight, so he broke the guys hold on his shirt with his left hand before he reached up to grip the back of the man's head and hopped into the air.

The man shouted in pain as Blake's knee smashed his nose flat against his face, and the others finally started moving towards him in outrage. The tall guy swung his arm out blindly to try to hit him in the face, perhaps to give himself some reprieve, but he just slipped beneath the attack and spun in a tight circle before lashing out high with his foot, catching the man in the jaw with a crack, dropping him to the floor.

Blake had to step back as the blonde guy jabbed out at him three times, and he jaunted inside the third punch to counter him, turning his face to the side, and he used the momentum built up from the lunge forward to plant his leg behind the man's own, and disrupted his footing enough that the man tripped backward over it.

Another guy with much darker blonde hair swung a knife at his head.

Blake halted the strike with the back of his hand against his inner wrist, twisted it around to grapple him, and broke his wrist with a sickening crack, leaving the knife to fall from the man's now loose grip. Blake spun under the man's desperate counter, snagged the knife out of the air, and planted it in the man's left knee before completing his spin and coming back up to face down the group once more.

The three of them lay on the ground in different stages of unconsciousness and pain, while the guy with the knife in his knee was staring at it with wide eyes, and cradling his broken wrist. Most of the women who had been with them had fled except for the first, the one who had recognized him earlier.

"Fuck! Fuck!" The man screamed angrily, holding his leg tightly. "Stop! No more! We give up!"

Blake watched them all for a moment, feeling the adrenaline sing through his body, it had only been a few moments and it was already fading, but the feeling was there, and after weeks of nothing it was almost euphoric.

"Are you fighting too?" Blake asked happily.

"N-no way!" The woman said immediately, "Hell no!"

Blake just nodded, while basking in the rush.

"Get out of here then, and take them with you." Blake said easily, "I think we're done, for now at least."

The woman circled wide to get back to the others before she started shaking the blond guy by his shoulder until he stirred, a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye drew his gaze immediately, but there was nothing there.

There had been though a shadow of some sort, it had just moved to leave.

Blake started down the alleyway to investigate, hoping it was another of the gang members hoping to evade him, but when he turned the corner the street was empty, there was another movement across the road near the entrance to the underground car park. Blake crossed the street with a jog and strode across the concrete floor, eyeing the many pillars around the area, and the few cars that were still here this late at night.

No movement, and nobody.

"I know you're there," Blake said easily, "You should just come out."

"Oh my." The voice said intrigued, from directly behind the pillar to his left. "You've got good instincts."

Blake found his eyes drawn to glinting of the woman's glasses as she took an unhurried step from behind the concrete pillar to face him. It clearly wasn't one of the people he had been fighting, not even one of the women that had been with them, he'd gotten a little too excited at the prospect of another fight and chased down an innocent apparently.

"I apologize," Blake said calmly, "I thought you were one of them."

The woman titled her head slightly, and stepped further out into the open, revealing her entirely as she stepped into the light, she was of an unremarkable height somewhere above five feet, with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail that ran down the length of her back, her clothing was strangely reserved a single piece that covered her entire torso with sleeves down to her wrists, buttoned straight down the middle and a white skirt that reached mid-thigh.

"How interesting," The woman said bemused, "Would you have attacked me if I was?"

"Yes," Blake said easily.

The woman tittered for a moment in amusement at his honesty and Blake couldn't help but notice that there was something distinctly off about this woman. Blake knew how people reacted to violence, he'd seen it countless times over both of his lives, but this woman wasn't reacting in that way at all, which most likely meant that she wasn't a stranger to violence herself.

It was rather jarring given her pleasant demeanor.

"You're not afraid." Blake said intently, "Why were you watching us?"

"I'm looking for people who possess a certain quality in particular," The woman said curiously, "The method I was using to locate it led me to that alleyway."

That made absolutely no sense, what kind of tracking existed in this world to lead someone to a person in that way? It was absurd, but he also didn't get the impression that she was deceiving him either. Who was the person with this quality? What was the quality?

"What quality do you speak of?" Blake wondered allowed, "A propensity for violence?"

That was something most of the people in that alleyway shared, himself included. The woman tittered again in amusement.

"Nothing so mundane, I'm afraid." She smiled, "I'm surprised you are seemingly not aware, given you are the one who possesses the quality."

Blake studied her intently, there was definitely something off about this woman, the only quality he possessed within this world that could be classed as non-mundane was that he wasn't from here, at least not initially, while his memories had stayed with him, none of his former power had, did she somehow know?

"Tell me what quality you think I possess," Blake demanded coolly.

He wasn't going to give up any information for free if he was somehow mistaken as to what she referred to. The woman hummed again in amusement, looking for all the world like she was completely at ease.

"You have the quality needed to summon a servant." She said easily, "Whether or not you are worthy or able to is another story."

Blake had no idea what 'summoning a servant' entailed, but it sounded like something mystic related, but what he did know was that she was calling in to question his worthiness, which was an obvious attack on his character.

"I suggest you refrain from any disparaging remarks about my worth, or you'll find I'm quite ill-tempered," Blake said coldly, taking a single step forwards. "What is a 'servant'?"

The woman laughed out loud, and Blake immediately took another step closer, she was clearly leading them both towards a confrontation on purpose, so she was likely prepared for combat in some way, despite how she looked.

"How about we make a wager then?" The woman said easily, and the light glinted off her glasses as she tilted her head forward slightly. "If you can impress me, I'll explain a few key things about the world that you have clearly missed."

The condescension was enough that he couldn't refuse the wager, so Blake didn't hesitate and immediately dashed into melee range. The first thing he noticed was that she was absurdly fast, much faster than anyone he had encountered in this world, but it was speed born of some kind of mysticism, and not at all natural, judging by the slight glow she gave off for an instant before it vanished beneath her clothes.

Blake was immediately on the defensive as she used the massive difference in speed to harass him with a series of simple but undeflectable punches, the first of which cut a line across his left cheek as he failed to force her attack away. Blake began moving backward evasively instead, doing his best to read her movements before she made them.

The woman stopped abruptly and Blake realized he had made a mistake the second he continued to move away from her, as she lifted her hand in his direction the bracelet of simple beads on her left wrist lit up with an ethereal glow before a wave of force distorted the air as it sped towards him.

Blake threw himself to the side and the wave of condensed air cracked the concrete pillar behind him, he immediately started back towards her, circling wide to keep another pillar in the way that her next wave of air shattered, the second she launched her third attack he rounded the pillar, sprinting straight towards her. There was no choice really, he had no way to contest her at the range, and while he was outclassed in melee there were no other options available.

Bake didn't mind though, the adrenaline was back and he couldn't help but laugh at the situation, he had been searching for something like this since he'd died, he'd given up hope that there was anything special about this world, and that he had been unlucky enough to have been reborn as a worthless nobody in a sea of nobodies.

A world without combat, a world without fighting with everything on the line. If all he had needed to do was beat up some guys in an alleyway, he would have done it years ago.

The woman twisted her hand in front of her in a very deliberate motion, and he immediately strafed to the side to avoid whatever invisible attack she planned on using, but nothing emerged this time, and he started back in towards her. A feint to buy time? Or a prepared attack to use later? Blake found he didn't really care.

Blake reached her a moment later and she immediately sped up again, bearing down on him with her straightforward attacks. It was almost laughable to him if their speed had even been remotely more matched, or if he had enough strength to move her attacks aside he would have taken her apart, or if he'd had a sword he might even have been able to kill her despite the vast gap in their respective abilities.

Instead, he found himself overwhelmed almost instantly and pinned to the ground with a foot on his chest. The woman's hand lit up before a wave of force tore a hole in the concrete to the right of his head, but he just grinned up at her with bloody teeth.

"You look far too happy for someone who lost." The woman said bemused.

"After fighting all of these weaklings for so long," Blake laughed, "I'd forgotten what a real fight felt like, are you going to kill me now?"

The woman hummed thoughtfully again before shaking her head slightly, sending her ponytail flicking over her shoulder.

"You managed to impress me after all," The woman said honestly, "So instead of killing you, how about we make a deal instead?"

She clearly had something else in mind so he would hear her out at least, he was still at her mercy, after all, surprisingly enough the thought didn't rankle him, an actual fight had left him in a pleasant mood for the first time in a long, long time.

"I'm listening," Blake said easily, still pinned to the floor.

Blake listened to the ludicrous story the woman spun in relative silence, enjoying the fading rush of the fight. A world filled with magic users, hidden from the commoners, an organization built to stop humanity from being erased by events that had yet to occur, in the past. Blake couldn't really find it in him to doubt it, she was flinging around some form of invisible wind attacks after all and making herself stronger and faster than a normal human.

"Get to the point." Blake sighed, "I don't care about all of that."

The woman, Jean Rum as she had introduced herself as, tittered again in amusement.

"To the point then," Jean said easily, "You have the capability to be a Master, in short, the ability to summon a Servant, and we need as many people who can act as Masters as possible."

Blake thought about it for a while.

"How many have you found?" Blake wondered.

"Forty-three, so far," Jean said amused.

"Teach me how to do that speed and strength technique and I'll be a Master in your time-war." Blake offered evenly.

Jean hummed again, this time distinctly more seriously than earlier, so he gathered that his request for training was something of relative importance to these magic-users, perhaps there was something worthwhile in this world after all.

"I'll accept those conditions," Jean said seriously.

"Then we have an accord," Blake said intently.

Author Notes: Updates every Friday, early access chapters at P , cross-posted at Spacebattles.