“Grandpa!” squeals the little girl as she comes joyfully running to the old man by the fireplace.

“Ah, my child, what is it?” asks the older man as he raises his head and looks at his granddaughter

“It’s story time again! Come on! I wanna hear the rest of the story from the other day!”

“Oh… and which one was that?”

“The one where there was a war over a magical wish granting cup!”

“Ah, now I remember. Fate / Finem Venatus… the war to end all Holy Grail Wars. Yes, I did promise you that I would tell you that story, didn't I?”

“Yes! You did, Grandpa, now start telling it!” demanded the little girl as she sat down with clear anticipation.

“My, my… someone sure is a bit restless today… Well, since I am in a good mood, I’ll tell you about it.” Leaning back into his chair, the old man pulled out a large smoke pipe before lighting it. Taking a large drag from it with his eyes closed, he exhaled a large puff of smoke, almost as if he was reflecting on the events that had transpired. Opening his eyes, he began to speak in a crispy voice. “The story of Fate / Finem Venatus begins right where I left off the last time from the tale of the Holy Crusades, my child. The Servant of the Holy Grail, The Overseer, brought the Holy Grail to a simple city that was built outside the far reaches of civilization. The city was called Septum, a simple yet large city with nice people of various kinds. It wasn’t too busy, nor was it too quiet. You wouldn't find the city even if you looked for it, for its location cannot be found on any map, which was just how the people of Septum wanted it to be, but unfortunately for them, it would bring them disaster instead of happiness.”

“Because of the Holy War?”

“That’s right, my dear. The Overseer, despite wanting to keep casualties to a minimum, didn’t want outsiders besides the ones that he and the Holy Grail have chosen to come, nor did he want to involve the officials of any government at the time.”

“Where was Septum at, grandpa?”

“As I said, I do not know. It just… appeared with unusual traits with it.”

“What kind of unusual traits?”

“That’s the thing, my dear, the traits were so strange, that they don’t make any sense. The city of Septum had mountains as perfect and as large that one would think they could pierce the sky. There were lakes that were filled with fish from lands that shouldn't belong there, yet they didn't kill one another. There were forests as mighty as the Amazon in the distance, also filled with animals and tropics that were unbelievable.”

“That sounds really nice rather than unusual, silly grandpa!”

Giving off a smile, the old man gave off a hearty laugh, before taking a puff from his pipe once more. “Oh yes, it was nice, but the unusual parts have yet to come. See, besides the mountains, lakes, and the jungle, there was also ice.

“I-Ice?!” exclaimed the little girl.

“Yes, ice! An arctic tundra, to be more specific. There were glaciers, and snow as far as the eye can see, with polar bears, penguins, and even some white hares as well! It was unbelievable how such a thing could be so close to the other environments without some sort of logical explanation. But it gets even weirder, for there was even a desert! Scorpions, insects, and even camels resided there.”

“How did the people of Septum react to this?!”

“That’s the thing… they didn't. To them, it was perfectly normal. It was as if their surroundings was entirely normal, and nothing was wrong for them, when in fact the area itself was an abnormality in the world.”

“What was the reason that it was like that?”

“Well, some say that it was the one the Holy Grail summoned; The Overseer. Unlike other entities that were summoned, some say that this man was something entirely different. He was neither good, nor evil; a saint, nor a demon; a hero, nor a villain. Some even called his presence one that would bring forth calamity, and to top it all off, he liked the idea so much that he decided to name himself Kalameet since he believed it suited him nicely rather than his actual name.”

“What was his true name, grandpa?”

“Ah, that’s a secret till later, one that shall be revealed in due time. For The Overseer’s identity was one that he would not reveal until later on. However… in the meantime, The Overseer waited patiently in his church in the center of the city of Septum, which was in the center of its unusual environment protected only by a thin lace of plain grass, which also separated the different biomes. It was clear that the environment was not natural, but the citizens of Septum did not care. Nonetheless, and before I digress any further, let us begin this story with The Overseer, who sat in the church with a mysterious pale maiden…”

---

The Church located within the center of Septum

“You know, there are far better things to do instead of simply staying here and reading books all day like a shut-in child,” groaned Kalameet as he propped his feet upon the altar of the church, sighing as he leaned back and stared at the cross behind him.

“Take your feet down, it’s disrespectful. Also, for your information, I enjoy reading. This particular book is… interesting to say the least.”

“If you want to call whatever the hell you’re reading a book in the first place. Seriously, almost all romance books are the same. Girl protagonist tries to find love blah, blah, and then Mr. White Knight comes strolling in, swoons her, bangs her, proceeds to have a child, and then they live happily ever after until they die in their late seventies or something.”

The pale girl wearing a small tiny transcendent crown and a white dress, sighs before she shuts her book. Her hair is peach-like while her eyes are a burning crimson red. She turns and stares at Kalameet, visibly more than upset with his statement. “That’s such a fundamentally foul look at things.”

“But it’s true, isn't it? It’s essentially what everyone who seeks a relationship wants no matter what; a happy end for themselves. Seriously though,” groans The Overseer as he props himself up straight and grins, “why don’t we go out and look about? This town is amazing after all; the people are nice, the animals don’t harm one another, and there’s this sweet sushi place that I’ve been dying to go to.”

“It is not your- no, it is not our duty to go about having fun. It’s our duty to resolve the Holy Grail Wars once and for all.”

“You act as if that means we can’t have fun in the meantime. Besides, I've yet to actually declare the start of the war, I’ve only sent out the invitations. No one has been curious enough to set foot in this church besides you and me, and honestly I’m getting quite sick of being in this dull place all day every day.”

“I don’t know what to make of you anymore… I summoned you thinking I knew very well who and what you were like, but despite that initial day, you have never once ceased to remind me in how little do I know you.”

“Ha! If you wanted someone easier to control then you probably should have gone with your first pick, Jeanne d’Arc! But let’s be honest now, you and I both know she’s nowhere near as awesome as I am, that and she’s too much of a religious goody-two-shoes where as I like to be pretty open-minded and experimental!” laughs The Overseer as he folds his arms and raises his head into the air, the sound of his laughter echoing through the chapel. “This will be the final, yet most interesting war of them all, I just know it!”

Leaping up from his seat, all of the candles within the chapel suddenly light up, almost in response to the burning joy that is emitting from The Overseer. Making his way in front of the altar, the man simply raises his hand into the air before laughing once loudly once more and snapping his fingers… causing a bright light to form within the skies above Septum. “As The Overseer, I, Servant of the Holy Grail, hereby declare that the War for the Holy Grail has begun! From this moment on, the battle is on!” While Kalameet finishes, the pale maiden simply sighs before placing the book, titled Romeo and Juliet, on the altar before walking outside and looking at the bright light in the skies above Septum.

“Perhaps, this time, history will not repeat itself. I pray that it truly does end here…” murmurs the maiden sadly, before reentering the chapel.

[William "Quick Disks" Ellis, Clay at the Side of Southernmost Lake]

This was stupid.

Really stupid.

Let's review today, shall we?

---

[Eight Hours Prior: Quick Disks, Baggage Check, London International Airport]

"Sorry sir, but you can't carry live animals on board."

"He's not an animal, he's a miniature chimera and do not hold him like that!"

"...a miniature what, sir?"

"..."

"..."

"...terrier. I said terrier."

---

[Seven Hours Prior: Quick Disks, Plane Interior, European Airspace]

"Sorry sir, we don't have any wine."

"What?!"

"We have a wonderful selection of diet sodas, though."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

"N-no sir, I was just-"

"YOU BE QUIET YOU IGNORANT SCUM-SUCKING PIG SOW!"

---

[Two Hours Prior: Quick Disks, Baggage Claim, Septum Top Secret Airport]

"Alright, got my equipment, got my coda, good. Now I just need to wait on the suitcase with those catalysts for hero summoning. Oh, this will be wonderful..."

"Mommy, why is that weird man talking to himself?"

"Just keep walking, honey. Don't make eye contact."

---

[One Hour Prior: Quick Disks, Baggage Claim Help Desk, Septum Top Secret Airport]

"You lost my bag?! I'll have you know that contained very important materials that will greatly hinder my work here! Where is your supervisor, I will not-"

"I'm very sorry, sir, but thank you for flying with Malaysian Airlines. We hope to see you again soon."

---

[Thirty Minutes Prior: Quick Disks, Cake Shop]

"I'm sorry sir, we're all out of cake."

"...of course you are."

"S-sir? Where are you going? We have some pie if you-"

"No. No pie. Not today."

---

[William "Quick Disks" Ellis, Clay at the Side of Southernmost Lake]

But in the end, that was all inconsequential.

Lines were drawn in clay.

Perhaps if someone was watching him they would wonder what a foreign man was doing drawing occult lines in the earth, but there were no such people around.

The catalyst was a substitute for the original intended one, a meaningless shard of material from a construct which had ceased to have meaning over a millennium ago.

And with that, the man knelt at the lake's side began a chant with the capability to send an average magus into unconsciousness.

Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.

Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.

In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！

The wind writhed as a flare of light filled the expanse, mud and clay flying in random directions as the light grew ever brighter.

Such was the world.

Such was the summoning of a spirit of old.

Nothing else needed to be said.

[Alexandria Kleinrest, Rooftop of a Five star hotel near a plain]

Preparations were complete. Fields were set. Magic circles were drawn. For Alexandria Kleinrest - more commonly referred to as "Alexis," war was about to begin.

Sitting on the wheelchair that housed the jewel that was her mystic code, Alexis looked at the command seals that had appeared on her hand. Once the summoning was over, before the night was complete, there would be no going back. Either she would have the grail in her grasp or she would most likely be dead. Tossing any notion of taking hte last chance to back out of the war completely from her mind, Alexis began.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill.

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.

In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！"

There was no going back now. No matter who may answer the call, no matter what will happen from now, she was now a part of the holy grail war.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

[Amarita, Rooftop of a Five star hotel near a plain]

Her circle was complete, as well as the disposing of the dead birds she had used for creation of said circle. She really didn't want to kill such innocents creature, but you have to crack several eggs to make an omelet

Amarita was on the opposite side of the roof with Alexis being on the other side. Why were two people summoning their Servants at the same time at the same place? Well, because .they were on the same side for this war. Alexis wanted to bring honor to her family while Amarita wanted to "free" Tibet. Their goals could be met the same exact way, so working together wasn't difficult for them.

The young monk extended her hand out forward, and began to chant the summoning spell at the same time as Alexis.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill.

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.

In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！"

Her fate was sealed at this point, but it fine with her. Whatever Servant that answered her call would be her key to "Freeing" Tibet, or in actuality, wishing to reach Enlightenment. The mysteries of the universe will be answered in time.

The first precept is what one is. The starting point which serves as the root from which everything springs.

Set.

I was born a human, and I died a monster. I died a demon. I died a god. I died as something which I could never have been, and felt my essence twist into a shape it was not.

For here we stand upon the Throne, wreathed in flame and brimstone, existences that have transcended, that have gone beyond. It's lonely, it's disgusting, it's weak. It's utterly, incomprehensibly droll.

Limits of a copy. Limits of the Grail. Limits of the class. Limits of the core.

Assassin. Heroic Spirit of assassinations. Unlike the other classes, the Assassin class is only ever supposed to be one particular Heroic Spirit, but in this world, exceptions are possible.

This is the form I shall be bound to. The killer of the shadows. And, in doing so, I am bound to a curse.

The entire "assassin hero" concept itself is a paradox. A truly successful assassin will never leave a name, so he will never be a hero. By endeavoring to exemplify the "assassin hero", you are already running in the exact opposite direct at a high speed.

But I am not a legitimate Assassin, am I? The group of nineteen who adopted the pseudonym "Hassan-i-Sabbah," they are the true Assassins. I am merely a fake, an anomaly, shoved into a Spiritual Core to wage war on the world. So...so I will still endeavor to exemplify that hero.

And even if my distinction is not so pronounced, then perhaps just as the Earth curves and running away can become running towards, if I run in the opposite direction until the stars themselves grow dim, perhaps I can reach my destination in time.

The black fades into white.

The white melts into color.

The void is struck by sound.

My mind is pulled away from the void just as quickly as it was placed within. The lights and sounds accelerate, whirling against one another in a mad cacophony as they compress like the collapse of a neutron star-

I can feel the wind.

I can feel the sun.

I can feel the life coursing through my being.

I am alive.

---

[Zhong, Rooftop of a Five Star Hotel Near a Plain]

A figure appeared where one was previously not.

[Sphere Boundary]

A figure disappeared where one previously was.

An invisible figure analyzed the woman before him as information streamed into his mind.

"I suppose we ought to follow convention, to be proper."

"Are you my Master?"

...What is the summoning ritual of a servant?

It isn't summoning a servant, that's for sure. It sounds simple, right? The idea that you can summon up a Great Hero from years passed with a simple chant and a small magic circle. But upon thinking about it, it makes little sense, does it not?

In the first place, don't you think summoning a Heroic Spirit would cost extremely high amounts of prana? Even with "The Holy Grail" backing one up, the costs should be beyond what a normal magus could ever aspire to do.

...Yet, what do normal magi do easily and trivially?

They summon servants without much trouble. Doesn't that seem a tad bit off?

That's because the ritual isn't to summon a servant. No, not at all. The ritual is to bind you to a servant.

...Of course, Magi never assume this. They simply blindly charge into the Grail War, expecting results to show. After all "The Holy Grail" is omnipotent, right? But know this, you who seek great power. Do not rise up what ye cannot put down yourself. Do not seek an artifact that can overwhelm you. Or perhaps...

An artifact that can be overwhelmed? Yes. The Holy Grail is certainly not a miracle wishing device. That's because _______.

Ah, aren't all artificial miracles like that?

Don't fret though. Just for this little game, I'll be nice, okay? So don't give me that look. See, I even did something embarrassing for you "like that".

Wow, humans are greedy.

Fine. I'll lend you just a bit of my power. Take that and be satisfied. This should be more than enough to reach [ ].

---

The world contorts under a spell that reached into the ritual class. Blinding light illuminates the skies as an inhuman being is summoned forth into the world. In the light, a spirit contorts and forms into the world like any other. If the signal to announce the start of the Holy Grail War is a sun, then this is a quasar.

Head, eyes, ears, nose, hair, torso, arms, legs, fingers, toes,

Come into existence.

But at the same time, something overruns all these things. There's a smile on the face of the thing that was brought forth into this world from the second its mouth existed.

And from the second its mouth existed, a beautiful sound emerged from all directions at once. It is certainly the doing of this servant. It is a beautiful song, but no voice is its cause, nor instrument.

It is just a sound. But it is an answer. It's a response to the Overseers deceleration of the Grail Wars beginning. Certainly, it is beautiful, but...

If one could put words to it, just like the smile on this servants face right now, there is something "wrong" with it. Something in that melody is wrong, but that is why it is a melody.

As the light fades, the song fades, and a girl steps forward. Just a girl, nothing more and nothing less.

The figure leans down, and squeezes its masters chest as it leans toward her and smiles.

"Hi,"

"Are you my servant?"

[Zhong, Rooftop of a Five Star Hotel Near a Plain]

The question has long been forgotten.

What is "wrong"?

If you ask a human this question, you will get a variety of answers. Wrong is incorrect, wrong is impossible, wrong is disgusting or disturbing or foolish.

At its core, wrong is wrong. It is one of the few concepts that is perfectly essentialist. Wrong is wrong. Right is not wrong because wrong is not right.

And so, as Zhong looked to the existence summoned at the same time as he himself, he was overcome by a feeling that could not be expressed in words. A sense beyond sight spoke to him, informing him of a truth both "of" the world and "beyond" the world.

This girl is wrong.

An inferior copy of wrong is still wrong.

There are many different senses of fear.

The fear of a stronger human.

Of something which is perfectly understood, but which cannot be killed by your ability. Predictable, simple, trite.

The fear of a hurricane or an earthquake.

Of a process beyond your "control". Such a silly concept, control. As if there is anything which can be truly controlled by man.

The fear of a monster.

Of something that you are not, that you do not understand and yet you know you will die.

The fear of a god.

Of abject inferiority, of acknowledgement that you are nothing. A cosmic speck in the hand of the Bodhisattva.

This was none of those. This was all of those.

How did that foolish ritual go? "I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead."

What if you bring into existence the copy of something that cannot be of that world?

Plot, scheme, prepare, do magic, destroy, create, cry, ask why, cut your own throat, smash yourself into the ground—none of it will do you any good.

It is all useless because this is the most primal fear. Not the fear of man or process or god or devil.

This is the fear of wrong.

And so, before his Master had even given a reply to his question, Zhong began to laugh.

A bellow from the core that flowed forward unceasingly.

Those other fears, those other foes, they were meaningless. They were not worthy of fear. But this...this was different.

"I see, so this is what it means."

And in that moment, Zhong learned the answer to that question which had gone forever forgotten.

"Whatever you are, I thank you. When the true me reads the book of this story after its close, I'm sure it will be entertaining."

Pointless words are spoken to the girl. Whether she even acknowledges them is of no consequence.

The Holy Grail War had begun.

"Ohoho... You hear that, ma'am?" barks Kalameet as he takes a seat back upon the chair behind the altar. "It would seem someone was trying to show me up. Ahahah! Didn't I tell you that this was going to be quite amusing?!" he laughs with excitement, clearing indicating the music that was heard.

"Hard not to. It's obvious that they are upset with you for delaying things. It has been months since you sent those invitations, and you further delayed the war another week because you didn't wish to start it simply because... well, you didn't give me a reason actually. Why did you push the start so far?" asks the maiden as she picks up her book once again.

"You act like I had a reason," he says plainly with a straight face. That's it. He just didn't care when it started or how long he delayed it. The man cared not, he just wanted to wait it out until he felt it ready to begin.

"You're... a strange one. What about the one who caused the melody... how will you respond to them if they question you?"

"Then I'll tell them that if they're that upset then they can fight me about it."

"What if they, or anyone else for that matter, tries to fight you?" asks the maiden as she finally peels her eyes from her book towards The Overseer.

A grin is all that emerges upon the man's face. "There wouldn't be a fight, since they wouldn't get the chance to. I'd kill them before the world- no, the universe nor Akasha could recognize it!"

"...Were it anyone else who was to say those words, I would not believe them... which I find frightening, but I suppose that is why I chose you. Now then, since the war has begun, who do you think will be the first to see us considering the Servants have begun to be summoned?"

"A complete child-like and stupid Master with an equally stupid Servant who has no idea what kind of hell they have gotten themselves into. That's my bet," laughed Kalameet as the maiden silently returned to her reading.

[Charlie Simms and Regulus ~ 22 hours previous]

Smoothly rotating in the office chair, Charlie made the fifteen familiar steps to the entryway of his hotel suite. On the fourth step he grabbed the pistol from the table that he then clipped to the back of his belt. On the twelfth step Charlie took his suit jacket from it’s hook on the coat rack and shrugged it on over his shoulders, the loose cut concealing the pistol without outlining it. On the fifteenth step he stopped as the magic circle behind him drawn in blood ceased it’s reaction. he half turned, left hand resting on the doorknob as sightless eyes behind black sunglasses gazed back into the room.

“Attend me Regulus, There is work to be done”

The sounds of something very, very large becoming very small in a matter of seconds echoed from the room behind the blind master. There were a few more scuffles as what appeared to be a short man stood upright, stretching his limbs with an expression of mild annoyance. The words that leaked out of his mouth were as dry as the desert that was undoubtedly within a few miles of the undisclosed location.

“Ah, Master, you aren’t gonna clean this up? I thought it was bad manners or something to not leave a room how you found it.”

“That is why I have paid my damage deposit in cash. Now let’s make haste, I would like to book passage on the same train as my cargo. Now follow along, I hope that you can drive. I must also assume that you will be requiring a suitable uniform for your role as a servant.”

With that spoken, he opened the door and strode out into the hallway, one hand running almost absently along the wall as he counted the steps to the rear exit where the rental car, also paid for with cash, waited.

The man who had been called ‘Regulus’ sighed, staring glumly at the absolutely ruined hotel room with a disapproving glare. ‘Suitable uniform, his master said. Now where was he gonna get that? It wasn’t like it was just gonna drop into his newly formed la-’

His musings were interrupted by a gasp from the door, a young woman wearing an outfit of the cleaning staff staring with mute horror at the horrible sight before her. She stumbled backwards as Regulus’ face split into a grin for the first time since he’d been summoned, showing far too many teeth than should have fit inside his averagely positioned mouth. He spoke too soon. Perhaps today was his lucky day.

---

A few minutes later he tromped down to the car, wearing an ill-fitted green dress and apron.

Noticing the difference in gait and the general aura of smugness, Charlie frowned deeply, his eyebrows knitting together above his sunglasses. His jaw clenched as he bit back what might have been some very creative Swedish.

“No, No, definitely not.”

---

Just short of an hour later, Charlie and Regulus cat in a private room on board of a train car. With his hands folded neatly in his lap, the master listened to an audiobook on his phone. He appeared to be sleeping with the exception of the minute movement of his head towards any sound deemed to be out of place.

Opposite the blind man, the newly summoned servant slumped moodily against his seat, shifting uncomfortably every so often as the newly pressed fabric of the impeccable suit he had been issued dug into his skin. An occasional grumble made it past the wall of silence that separated the two.

Regulus had been loathe to give up the dress, spitting bitter venom about the restricting qualities of the pants even when he was being fitted in the short time the duo had before the train had left. His dry skin wasn’t made for the rough fabric.

It chafed.

An arched eyebrow was the only change in expression from Charlie. He pulled an earbud out of his ear and tilted his head slightly.

“Perhaps a silk shirt might have been a better choice… and maybe a skirt.”

The Beast’s head snapped up at the mention of his forced choice of clothing, his untrimmed hair covering the piercing eyes that glared daggers at the Swedish man before him.

“Yes, I said that I liked the dress. But apparently that’s not suitable, so here we are.”

“That dress was not suitable in the least. We are professionals with a job to do and such attire may only make it more difficult.”

“Fine! Hopefully the aggravating land that requires so much travel to get to will have at least some semblance of said ‘attire’.”

There was a momentary pause as Regulus considered the possibilities.

“Master, do you think that they’ll have the skirt in black?”

“Regulus, I do not think that an outcome will be expected. I deal in certainties. They Will have the skirt in black, We Will be reaching our destination shortly and I Will win this Holy Grail War.”

Hm. Well, this was unexpected. Alexis had been prepared for anything, from either the most chivalric and handsome of princes, the most unassuming yet steel willed heroes to even the most deadly, bloodthirsty and uncaring of assassins. She had been prepared for knights, wizards, heroes, anti-heroes, anything that she could possibly imagine to have taken root in human imagination.

What she did not expect, however, was for the summoned servant to immediately grope her. In her defence, when you were summoning a legendary hero that had done great feats, would you expect them to grope a girl's chest first thing after being summoned?

As such, taken completely by surprise by both the appearance and actions of the servant, Alexis, as graceful as she usually was, could not help but let out a not-so-quiet "Kya!" at having her chest be squeezed by the spirit she had summoned.

"Um - ye - wait - I - no!" Alexis stammered, failing to completely recover her calm in the face of being groped by a heroic spirit. "It's the other way around! I am your master!"

In the dead of night, three hours before the dawn of the first day of the Holy Grail War, a solitary man worked inside a quiet warehouse that lay on the edges of the strange city of Septum.

Swathed in a jacket made of the blackest fabrics money could by and ornamented in the most luscious and deep reds imaginable, the swarthy specimen of a male cut an imposing figure in the darkness of the exceptionally early morning. His lit cigarette hung loosely from his mouth, the glowing ember deep inside the only light that burned and illuminated the massive work that lay before him. Deep silver liquid pooled into straight lines and perfect circles, forming abstract designs as well as a language long dead from this world, all swirling into a point at the very center of the vast array. It was a thing of awe, this gleaming, ominous amalgamation of metal and magic.

Seemingly satisfied, the hulking man sat back on his haunches to examine his handiwork, taking a long drag on his cheap tobacco, exhaling a cloud of the poisonous smoke as he considered the implications of his next step.

---

Honestly, the man called Todd Marchen didn't care who won the war. All it meant to the freelance magus was which one of the old farts in the frozen wastelands of Northern Europe he was going to visit after this whole thing blew over.
Then the money had come in. More money than he'd ever seen in his entire life. With a promise of more, if the freelancer could provide the mysterious sponsor with the grail. He didn't even know who he was working for, and frankly, he didn't care.

---

Careless eyes darted down to the circle as Todd recalled the words that had been written down on the scrap of paper that he'd been given along with the cash.

"Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill."
"Repeat five times."
"Simply, shatter once filled."
"----I announce:"
"Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword."
"In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling then answer."
"Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good in the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil in the world of the dead."
"You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, oh keeper of the balance----."

He finished lamely, glancing around to make sure nobody had seen as the entire circle exploded into a brilliant white flame, crackling and bursting with ridiculous amounts of energy.

[Amarita, Rooftop of a Five Star Hotel Near a Plain]

Both Amarita's and Alexis' summonings were a success,

Perfect. However, this didn't mean everything was over yet. She still needed to make sure that these Servants were up to par. She didn't anyone amazingly powerful, just somebody decent enough to protect her while she killed every last Master.

Honestly, if Alexis wasn't her ally for this war, Alexis would be nothing more than an easy kill for Amarita. Thankfully, they were allies, so there was nothing Alexis had to worry about. Amarita was a woman of her word, and there was no way she could ever bring herself to something so low.

The monk looked at her own Servant first. Well, would have if he wasn't invisible. But he was, so she moved her gaze to Alexis' Servant.

There was something. . . very odd about her. Her greeting would be considered normal compared to the odd feeling it gave Amarita.

Something about her was just. . . off.

Weird, abnormal, different, odd, wrong were all words that came to Amarita's head.

She seemed like fear itself, the perfect personification of it.

But that was wrong, nobody could be the personification of fear itself, Everyone has different fears, so that can't be it.

However, that was just as wrong. There is one fear that everyone person has. There is no exception to this, even Amarita herself knew that this one thing might enough to scare her.

How did that old expression go?

'The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown'

Yes, that was it. This girl was more than the personification of fear, she was the personification of the Unknown. The one thing everyone fears. The one thing nobody can prepare themselves for. The endless void that lurks outside of humanities reality. That is what this Servant was.

It took a few moments, but Amarita managed to get herself out of her thoughts and give a proper introduction.

" It is a pleasure meeting both of you. My name is Amarita, the girl in the wheelchair is Alexandria. We are allies in this war, so if you would both be so kind, we would prefer no hostility between you two. Treat each other as friends if you can, but if not, just please try not to harm the other. If you would both be willing to, I would like hearing your Classes, Names, and abilities. Sorry if I seem rude, or if I am rushing things, I just prefer not to deal with pointless conversation. "

The differences between Amarita and Alexis were huge.

"Alleyway Summoning"
Somewhere in Septum

---

In a dark alleyway, hidden away from the eyes of the world, a pale-skinned woman stands atop a circle of blood. To her side, a teenage girl lays unconscious on the ground, oblivious to the legendary ritual that was taking place mere meters away from her. Without sparing a glance to the girl, Marianne continues the ritual with careful precision, just as she had practised at home. She was already in the final stages of the summoning, and the strain was already beginning to present itself. Soon enough, a peculiar light begins to cut through the gloom. The air vibrates with some unknowable power, and Marianne finishes the last few words of the chant, her words echoing slightly as they are sucked into the magical vortex.

"Come to me, my Servant!"

Just as she finishes, an explosion of light fills the secluded alley, forcing the sensitive eyes of the summoner to close. For a few moments, the only sound is the crackling of magical power and the swirling wind emanating from the circle. Then, she heard it. The sound of feet gently setting down on pavement, unnaturally audible over the magical din of the ritual. She knew in her mind that the summoning had succeeded, and as if on cue, she feels a massive amount of power escape from her. Even with my alterations, it was still this draining...the Holy Grail is no joke.

Settling her breathing, Marianne looks up to where she assumed her Servant would be standing, but a cloud of dust obscured the figure she sought. She could see their outline in the fading light, and smell the person who had appeared out of nowhere before her, but until they could see one another there was no chance of making a formal contract. So, after brushing a little bit of dust off her dress, Marianne approaches the centre of the circle.

Once they get close, she stands silently before the newly summoned figure, awaiting the traditional greeting. She had done her research on this war, so she knew it was customary for the Servant to greet their prospective Master first. She was excited, but she would not disrespect the formalities of this most ancient ceremony. So, she waited.

The Gardener,
Lakeside Summoning

Over many years men have come to me with a simple and honest question, one I have given many answers to and none of them completely untruthful:

'What are you?'

The completely honest answer is, of course, I am but a man! I breathe, I sleep, I eat, I laugh, I love, I think, I survive. Simple things like these which keep us anchored, are they not what make us human?

Ah, but that is not the case this time is it? The intrinsic knowledge imparted onto me tells me this - I am more than that now. In this body and time I am the thunder that rumbles across the heavens. Drawn from a throne, I am the man and myth made manifest unto a singular entity.

I stand within the eye of the storm that is my arrival, a display of light and wind which sends the dust and dirt on the ground spiralling into the air, the nearby waters rippling at my presence. Energy arcs around me as the concept of 'I', the individual, is anchored to the world. I would be a fool not to give credit where it was due, this was some impressive work. All calms, my existence is secured for now. I recognise that I am more than man, but in a few senses far less. For this time...

"I am Servant Rider and I have answered the call. So I ask - are you to be my Master?"

The Gardener had an idea of what his summoner would be like the instant he saw him. The provisional knowledge granted to him by the grail worked in conjunction with his already immense archives worth of knowledge and experience. He was no rank amateur, that was for certain, but the way he held himself left some unfortunate implications to the Servant. It could be worked on, given time.

Rider gave his new Master a slight bow of his head, a serene smile gracing his youthful features. To think that of all people, he would be summoned to fight a war.

---

Xiang,
Alleyway Summoning

I hear the call.

This is hell. Of all the things which could happen to me, this is among one of the worst things I could imagine. I blame not the soul who calls me from one prison into another, but the system in place - this wish granting ritual which I am to fight for. I certainly have a wish now. Like a convict, I am chained to a body - my old one recreated down to the most minute of details and then granted some more. Even my eyesight acts up, if just for a moment. The dust parts and I see her, the girl who is to be my 'Master' for this war.

That sounded so demeaning, so did 'Servant'. Maybe she'd compromise with more appropriate terms? I'd settle with 'partners', anything other than Master and Servant. Even in this constructed body, I feel ill thinking about that.

There's a glint in this girls eye, something which resonates with me - she's a dangerous sort. Didn't go a day in my business without being able to spot that. If she can follow through with how she looks, then I can work with this no problem. I don't like this war, but I can bloody well fight it none the less. Oh, shit. I have some formalities I'm meant to go through.

"I'm here, partner. Between you and me, I don't think we need the thespianism. Servant Rider at your service. You are my Master, right?"

Xiang smiles, a pleasant and warm looking thing which you wouldn't expect to see on such a tall and armed woman, but it's there anyway. Marianne might notice it though, the glint in her eye much like the one Xiang noticed in her. This woman was dangerous - one is not summoned without reason, after all. She appraises her master with a relaxed stance, hands resting at her sides.

Time to win another battle.

---

Michiko,
Hotel Room Summoning

Catalyst - check.

Circle - check.

Her mental state - unchecked.

Everything was ready, just not her. Before a few months ago, she had not even known the name of her father - but a few months ago she had not been drawn into the world of magi and their craft. Michiko was at least aware of it, thanks to her mother, but she never dabbled in it. Then the seals appeared, and so did her father. For three months she studied under him and other tutors, making her a 'mediocre' representative for the Yates family in this competition.

She wished the mark had gone to someone else, but her path was set. Curtains drawn, lights on, the girl stood before the summoning circle of her design, drawn from chalk onto the wooden floor. She stretched her hand out, holding it by the wrist with the other.

And so she chanted, just as she practised. She had been warned about the strain it would put on her, but to experience it was another matter.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.

Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.

In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――!"

The dust and light blinded Michiko , sending the girl to her knees at the rituals climax. She had done it - her position was locked in. If all had gone well, she would have a servant of the Lance, just as her father wished. She knew little of tactics and battle, but what little she did know would have to do.

The Holy Grail War had begun.

The Butcher's Shop was located in one of the nicer districts in Septum, in one that was nice and quiet at this time of night. Only the sound of cars passing disturbed the otherwise peaceful serenity of the street, and the shop itself was the only one that seemed to be active, with a light visible from the window.

Which was odd, seeing as the owners were away on holiday for a few weeks.

Deep down in the basement of the shop, in the freezing cold old stone cellar filled with plastic-wrapped meat and bloodstained tools, a young woman stood over a large, intricately drawn symbol; her hands coated in the same thick, coppery blood that was splattered across the stone floor as the magical circle before her.
She could have done this in the safety of her own hotel room, and paid off the owners to not ask questions, but she'd happened across the shop a few days prior whilst collecting supplies; with only a little bit of effort, she'd got into the shop and confirmed the existance of a basement suitable to her needs. Thus, she'd found a suitable location without the need to cause any trouble for herself or that nice old couple running that huge hotel; she'd set up a temporary workshop in the basement on the day she found it, and by the time she'd arrived an hour earlier it was fully suitable to her needs.

The circle was drawn- the butcher had leftover chicken's blood in the cooler, conveniently enough for the ritual she had in mind- and the catalyst, a rusty old sword, was jammed into the floor dead in the center of that circle. Only one last touch was needed before it was complete, and then she'd only have to wait for midnight.

Her breath coalescing into fog in the cold of the room, she reached over to the table and picked up a syringe- the chicken's blood would be sufficient enough for the body of the circle, but she wouldn't stop there; she'd leave nothing to chance and complete the circle with some of her own.

Her right forearm was ready; a tight band wrapped around it to limit the flow of blood, she pushed the needle deep into it without hesitation, only wincing slightly as she felt it go through her skin and as she pulled the blood into the syringe. Depositing that into the small pot nearby, it only took a few more minutes to add the details to the circle with the fluids; and soon enough, the witching hour came.

Calling out an incantation to heal the puncture, the woman pulled her sleeve back down over her forearm and put down her tools; it was time.

She didn't know why, but the Grail had deemed her worthy of participating in a war of Kings, Heroes and Gods; and for all the world, she couldn't wait to begin. As much as she didn't know why she'd been granted command seals by the resurgent wish-granter, she would not question it; for her, the war itself was the reward, and the promise of a wish for the victor only a bonus.

The nearby clock struck twelve, letting out an electronic whine.

Grinning, she reached out her arm and began to chant aloud as the circle before her erupted into life.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.
The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.
Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).
Repeat five times, shatter once filled.
... I announce.
Your body is bequeathed to me, my body and fate lies in the balance of your sword.
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by these terms, this reason- then answer me.
Here is my oath. I am the one who shall become all the good of the world, and I am the one who shall lay out all the evil of the world.
You, seven heavens clad in the words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"

And the room was filled with light as Beatrice Edelfelt's Servant was borne into this world.

"Complications"
Butcher's Shop, Septum

---

A divine light fills Saber's vision as she soars through the dimensions, following the familiar tug of Grail and Master. She was close, so close that she could hear her Master's voice just a little further. But she could feel something was wrong, she instinctively knew that this was not how it was supposed to be. She feels constricted, like something was grasping at her from all sides, and when she arrives she finds her vision tinged with red.
*THUD*
She lets out a pained cry as she hits the ground, hard. Pain jolts through her body instantly, knocking her to the ground as she struggles to fight off the urge to scream. Oblivious to her surroundings, and to the woman who had summoned her, Saber writhes on the ground in agony. It felt like burning hot nails were stuck in her body, trying to force their way out. She was vaguely aware of many injuries covering her body, and of a pool of blood surrounding where she had landed, but all she cares about was suppressing the pain.

A few moments pass, during which Saber's injuries gradually begin to heal, until finally she becomes still. Her breathing was heavy and some of the colour had drained from her skin, but she seemed to have recovered enough to speak. Only now did she look around, taking in information on her surroundings and noticing her Master, crouched closely at her side. She may have been dazed from pain and confusion, but she did not forget her formalities. With some difficulty, Saber rises from her crumpled state and kneels respectfully before Beatrice. Shakingly, she introduces herself-

"I am Servant Saber...it is a pleasure to meet you, my Master."

She coughs, and a small amount of blood leaks from the corner of her mouth. After a moment of rest, she continues, "...If you accept me as your Servant, I will fight at your side. I offer to you my blade, so that you may win this war..." She trails off, wavering a bit on her knees. Then, without warning, she collapses to the ground.

As the flash of intense light blasted throughout the room, Beatrice instinctively moved her hands to cover her eyes; she could do without losing her corneas before the fucking war even started, after all.
For a few moments, she stood there as the light raged.

And then she froze as it abruptly faded and left a loud crashing sound and a piercing, feminine scream in its wake.

That certainly didn't sound good.

She opened her eyes, lowered her arms.
And stared at the pitiful sight before her.

A young woman writhing in the ground in absolute agony, her body seemingly broken at random intervals with hot, fresh, coppery blood seeping out of her.
For once, Beatrice paused in shock, not knowing quite what to do; had she botched the summoning? Was this girl's state her doing? What the fuck?

A few moments passed, and Beatrice remained paused; and then the girl began to crawl towards her, before pulling herself up into a respectful kneel.
She spoke, confirming that she was indeed the Servant she meant to summon; Beatrice gathered herself and prepares to reply-

Before the girl collapsed again, and stayed down this time.

Again, Beatrice paused.
And then she just sighed.

"Look, before anything, let's get you fixed up. Can't fight a war with a broken weapon, sweetie," She said, in a tone that was a mix of both care and slight condescending teasing, as she reached down and placed her arms beneath those of her Servant's, lifting her armoured upwards with surprising ease.
A moment later, Saber was laid across one of the tables in the cellar; the tools that had been strewn across it a moment before carelessly wiped onto the floor by her Master, who took a deep before seeming to focus on something unseen. Something invisible.

Looking at her invalid Servant, Beatrice placed her hands together, before igniting the Od within her; and as she began to chant, a faint green glow of reparation began to envelop Saber.

[Charlie and Regulus - Septum Center]

The nondescript black SUV pulled smoothly into the parking lot before coming to a stop taking up an entire four spaces. Feeling the self righteous aura coming off of his servant at the chance of possible getting something past his master, Charlie frowned his disapproval but said nothing. There were much more important things to spend his breath on.

He climbed out into the chill night air, inhaling deeply the scent of the park that surrounded the church. Hands in his pockets now, The master waited for his servant.

The driver’s side door opened, revealing the smug servant and his newly acquired clothes. Gone was the stifling suit, made of the cursed fabric that constricted his skin and forced his newly created limbs to straighten themselves, lest the Servant aggravate the rough fabric of the custom made masterpiece of modern tailoring. Instead, he embraced his master’s suggestion, taking the silk clothes that he had spent nearly an hour selecting(Much to Charlie’s aggravation).

After he took his own breath of the sweet air, Regulus stalked around the SUV and approached his master, carelessly grinning at nothing in particular as he proffered his hand toward the main door of the church.

“After you, Master.”

Charlie reached out towards the voice, touching that shoulder and getting a feel for the direction leading to the church. He stepped out with a determined purpose and more confidence than a simple blind man could ever have when venturing into the unknown.

“Describe the entrance.”

After a moment of scrutiny, Regulus shrugged and to look at the door fully, glancing the entire church up and down.

“Two wooden doors, probably oak, each about twelve feet in height and about four feet wide. Set in some sort of white stone. They’re at the end of a similarly colored walkway that curves slightly to the left from where we’re standing. I’d say… About fifty-two feet. There’s garden on either side of the walkway, with rose bushes being the most common sight within reasonable distance.”

Charlie nods and begins the approach to the doorway, polished black shoes tapping a cadence on the stone of the walkway. Feeling himself to be near the door, the master reached out a hand and placed his palm on the smooth wood of the door. His left hand mirrored the action and he strode through, throwing the pair wide as he entered the church.

The void was all encompassing; silent and dark. She had been here for so long, remembering her mistakes, her achievements....

..her death.

A sweet voice came to her ears, shaky, and somehow... fearful.

***

The room suddenly filled with light, swirling into the center of the circle.

Without warning, it exploded outwards in a bright burst of color, revealing a kneeling figure in the circle. Lancer, as that seemed to be the mold she was summoned in, was still clad in resplendent armor, with sword and shield on her left side.

"So... I have been summoned once more." She stood up confidently, staring down at the summoner. So young; did she ever hold a sword before? There was no need to confirm who her Master was; it was simply obvious who she was drawing power from, however meager it may be, and there was just one person here in this room gawking at her splendor.

"REJOICE! For you have summoned ME! A magnificent, and POWERFUL warrior! There is NONE that I cannot defeat, and there is NONE that can defeat me! For I am the Unconquered! The undefeated! The one who had stood their grounds against many! Not even the GODS could help ANY warrior defeat ME!"

She flicked a hand through her hair, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Hmm, normally I would give you my name, but there can be no telling what sort of dishonorable rat might be listening. Lancer... Lancer would do fine." With that she gave an expectant look towards her Master. "If you like, you may tell me your name. Or do you prefer to be called Master?"

"Alleyway Contract"
Somewhere in Septum

---

The dust clears, and Marianne finally takes her first look at her newly summoned Servant. Tall, Asian and packing heat...an arrangement that she could get behind, for sure. There's a period of silent observation lasting several seconds between them, but then Rider seems to remember her formal greeting. Partners...huh. Marianne extends her hand with the intent to shake, leaving a moment between when Rider finishes her introduction and when she starts her own. The instant their hands meet, she completes the contract in her usual clear, relaxed tone.

"Servant Rider, it is a pleasure to meet you at last."

She lets go of her partner's hand and curtsies appropriately, "I am Marianne Charity Barrett, the one who summoned you here and, indeed, your Master. With this, our contract is completed."

Having finished her formalities, Marianne turns on her heel and walks purposely towards the girl lying unconscious nearby. With a single, effortless movement, she picks the girl up and swings her over her shoulder. She turns towards Rider and nods upwards, asking "Shall we?" before taking a few steps back from the closest wall.

At first, it wasn't exactly evident what she intended to do, but then with a sudden burst of speed she runs directly at the wall. Angling her head upwards to plot her path, Marianne gracefully leaps towards the wall and runs up it a short distance, before making one final jump across the alley to reach a high-up window. She grabs onto the edge of the window with one arm and, after a moment of rest, pulls herself up into the room beyond.

The inside of her Safe house was sparsely decorated and practical, but not without its little touches of home here and there. This room seemed to be the living room, with a few comfortably-looking couches placed around a large, flat-screen television. The room was well-lit, and there seemed to be a bookcase and a Personal Computer placed meaningfully in the corner. In the center of the room, a low-standing table had a few scattered objects on its top, including a pair of handguns and what must have been a detailed map of this district of Septum.

Once inside, Marianne casually walks across the room and settles into a nearby couch, on which she also places her unconscious prey. She lights herself a cigarette and waits for Rider to follow her inside, before casually speaking-

"Welcome to our humble abode, Partner. Any questions?"