[color=indianred][h1]Hector Cavala[/h1][/color]

Buying a hotel room wasn't cheap, especially considering the latent spacing issues Japan routinely suffered. Hector had managed to make do, fortunately, with a relatively nice room. Most criminals didn't have a travel agent, but Hector was happy to have one now. 

The cleaning lady was probably going to be cross with him about the mess he made on the bathroom floor. Even though chalk is easy to get out, the intricate runes Hector had drawn out using it were going to be a pain to wash off. However, that was not Hector's problem. Hector's biggest problem right now was trying to remember how the chant went. As far as Hector knew, chants were largely unnecessary. A formality for an informal conflict. However, it just wouldn't do to shamelessly copy over another Mage's chant from a previous Grail War. This one would have to be [i]special[/i].

[color=indianred][i]"Soul of the mind, key to life's ether,"[/i][/color] Hector said, sprinkling a handful of rich incense over the middle of the summoning circle. The innermost runes of the circle began to throb, as if through the eyes of a half-awake man.

[color=indianred][i]"Soul of the lost, withdrawn from its vessel,"[/i][/color] Hector said, delicately placing a worn artefact in the circle. It wasn't very interesting. To the outside observer, it looked like an incredibly rusty, incredibly dirty toy whistle. In truth, it was a tool of unimaginable power: a Catalyst. The Cavala family knew all about Catalysts, though few had ever used one. This one had passed itself down through three generations of Magi, and had been kept entirely as it was the whole time. In retrospect, it probably would have been better to clean it.

[color=indianred][i]"Let strength be granted, so the world will be mended."[/i][/color] Hector gently poured a measure of liquid from a nearby bottle. Libations for the dead are standard practice for summoning them, but classical necromancy probably didn't ask for the use of convenience store wine, and probably didn't ask that the bottle be half-drunk before pouring.

At this point, Hector realized he forgot the rest of the chant and his Servant [i]still[/i] hadn't arrived. Struggling for something to say, Hector's brain shot into overdrive. Pure inspiration surged through his synapses, and Hector resumed chanting with renewed vigor.

[color=indianred][i]"How many times I gotta tell y'all I'm second to none!
No magazine's top ten cause I'm negative one!
So I don't pay attention to them dumb folk,
Cause I'mma always be in first like the clutch broke!"[/i] [/color]

Hector briefly wondered where he'd thought that up. Suddenly, it all came to him-- Big Pun! That Puerto Rican bastard had come through for Hector once again! Illuminated by the bright lights of the summoning circle, Hector laughed uproariously. The lights and sounds surging forth from the epicenter of the circle reached a shrill crescendo, nearly blinding and deafening Hector all at once. Without a doubt, [i]magic[/i] was happening, and Hector was glad to have caused it.

[color=indianred]"Ay, Servant!"[/color] Hector roared into the maelstrom of magic in front of him. [color=indianred]"Get your ass over here!"[/color]

[@Flamelord]