It had taken several minutes for the small launch to be brought in alongside the massive battleship's hull and in the meantime, Strategist had borne witness to both the sight of a 'world' falling to earth, then - just as quickly - a sudden, seemingly out-of-nowhere storm finally extinguish the black and red flames. The Servant let out an audible sigh of relief as she began to climb up the rope ladder that had been thrown down for her, Carly and Mary to ascend; it seemed that, for tonight, the worst was over for this city.

When the Servant's pony-tailed head and uniformed torso popped over the side of the railing-surmounted mid-ship turret deck, the trilling of a pair of boatswain's pipes could be heard as a hundred shoe-shod feet of the ship's officers and crew slammed to attention. Strategist grunted as she hauled herself up onto the deck, saluting the officers' side-party as she stepped to one side to allow the others enough room to ascend the ladder safely.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain Bacon?" Strategist inquired to one of the peaked cap-wearing officers, his shoulders sporting the rank slides of a Captain of the Royal Navy, as Strategist greeted him with a crisp salute.

"Granted, ma'am." CTN Reginald Bacon replied, barely hiding the slight smile he bore as he returned his superior officer's courtesy. "Welcome aboard."

Strategist nodded in thanks, lowering her hand. "My associates here will need billeting, preferably somewhere across from my cabin. See if arrangements can be made."

"Of course, ma'am. Shall I have our ship weigh anchor?"

"Not until we know what we're up against, Captain. The distance between us and the shoreline should be enough for now." Strategist turned to the leading Lieutenant at the side party. "Mr Dawson, please forward my compliments to the remainder of the ship's company and inform the officers that I will be expecting a briefing with them in the officer's mess, within the next two hours." She nodded to the assembly. "Thank you, gentlemen; that will be all. Dismissed."

As the side parties were dismissed and the crew returned to their stations, Strategist leaned against the side railing and put her hands in her trouser pockets, relaxing a little. So far, things were going like clockwork - just how she liked it.

The Spoils of War. Thieves = 1, Do-gooders = 0.

"Wow, Jack I saw the whole thing! you look like an actual Saber with that stolen fancy sword you got there!~ fufufu" Riyu said and snickered, playfully teasing her fugitive-like servant about his infamous accomplishment.

"Kidding! I'm so proud you, meet me in the native part of town for our new hideout to celebrate...Plans change, you see I was planning to evacuate the city and head for the eastern part of the city and to my surprise, the entire bridge connecting to the other side was not there! can you believe that? tch.. lousy time for a renovation for a disaster like this.." you can sense the thief girl's irritation through her rantings like a whiny teenage girl.

"Anyhow that's not all, I have a little run-in with some weird insects and suffer some minor bug bite. I think I'm getting rusty with this whole thief biz to not be able to dodge something so simple as that.." The pink-haired girl sighed, feeling ashamed in her tone for not doing a slick getaway, unlike her servant who somehow manages to overcome the odds.

"but don't you worry, tis..but a scratch! its getting patch up as we speak and hopefully get back to the race again anytime soon" Riyu said, reverting to her bubbly self.

"Anyways, you know where to find me, see yaa ~ ciao" with that, Riyu's mental link has disconnected from her servant as if she's hanging up the phone and patiently waits for her servant to return to her side. Hopefully, that 'Mystical item' she's after isn't destroyed in that horrific fire incident, But that would have to wait for another day, I'm sure both of them are exhausted from this eventful day.

@ReallyDumb

---

She had been ready. Her familiars mobilized for a new tactic against the blaze, Scáthach and the Tohsaka's Saber both at hand, bags packed in case the retaliation failed, and Shinji safely out of the area. Of course, with some tiny grain of clarity and control found in this wild situation, it was guaranteed something was bound to bungle it up.

That said, she hadn't been expecting it to be an ally that did it.

Saber had fled instantly. At the same time, Lancer came crashing in through the office window, wordlessly grabbed Reiki in one arm and her suitcase in the other, and continued through the hallway towards the back wall. She didn't crash through this wall, however. It parted into a swarm of winged insects at her approach, allowing her to land on the grass and progress over the wall.

Reiki hardly missed a beat. She hadn't been expecting to enact escape maneuvers until some effort had been put into her fire extinguishing plan and it had proven ineffective, but she was nonetheless prepared. Final orders were given to the various groups of familiars. Those on and around the lawn piled into the gazebo, those in the basement packed tightly and sought out the lowest crevasses, and those spread through the edges of the fire zone in position for firefighting simply fled and survived as best they could. The last was a vague order to evade and resist. Many would likely scatter to the winds, while some might collect and morph into more durable collective forms.

Her final commands having been laid out, Reiki cut ties with the lot of them.

She was jolted out of her familiar-control focus as Lancer rubbed a bit of ash on her cheek, clearly making to form a primordial rune. She had no time to ask about its nature before it came into effect, at which point Scáthach began moving at full tilt.

For Reiki, this was an impossible speed. She was used to an immense amount of simultaneous sensory experiences, but not so for incredible single concentration like this. As the flames became more scarce and the foreigners' houses zipped by, she realized the rune on her face was certainly a physical reinforcement rune, for there was no other way she could have survived in such a state.

She heard the explosion from the manor behind them, and then she saw it overhead. Lancer's greatest work. The gazebo.

It was unrecognizable. Walls of stone and ice enveloped it in an airtight egg shielding it from the great explosion, no doubt carefully aimed by Scáthach, that had erupted beneath the structure back on the lawn, sending it flying through the air at an angle that made its destination likely similar to their own. As she understood the masterpiece Lancer had toiled over for no small part of the time before the war, gravitational runes stabilizing the internal cabin would keep her worms intact despite the force of the flight while wind-force runes laid around the outer edges would repel the cure-ridden smoke of the flames that had started this whole problem.

Far behind the pair, she supposed, would be the barriers Lancer had claimed could withstand the release of a Noble Phantasm. They would be growing more and more numerous, appearing directly on top of each other until the border of the lawn became so saturated with energy that it was nothing more than a wall of blinding white light. Despite this, she was acutely aware of the difference in power between the barriers and the thing descending from above, and so there was no need for her to ask Lancer why she was not relying on those shields to keep them safe.

While Reiki had been boosted to withstand the speeds at which Scáthach travelled, her sense of time remained the same, and so it was a matter of a few seconds, hardly time to formulate any thought or response to the situation, before her Servant brought them to a stop just beside a park bench.

There was a quiet moment then. Lancer's focused gaze indicated she was likely using Clairvoyance to assess the damage and watch for nearby opportunists, but Reiki let her familiars run themselves for just a few seconds while she collected her thoughts.

It was an impossible tragedy. Even if she won the grail for Zouken and lived to see everlasting peace, this failure would likely gnaw at her for a long time.

Of course, the blame hardly fell on her shoulders alone. Jack, that Demon with her followers, the lightning wielder who had defended her, the woman who had poisoned the flames, and...

"What was that!? If Benita hasn't gone fully rogue, we'll be having a very serious talk about teammate coordination.

Gin nodded as Archer made it clear on exactly what he needed to do. It was something he was told before, yes, but between his drunken stupors and literally being dragged across the city, he wasn't able to ask his new ally anything apart from the most basic of questions. Steeling himself for this purpose he must overtake, he nodded to his Servant, once again, standing up and making his way to the little old lady...



"'Ey, lil' lady! Watch who yer' calling a kid, ya hear?!" Not questioning why a child, of all people, is drinking at the bar, Gin pulled a stool over, deciding he would entertain this child, for the time being. "As fer' hot springs, it really depends on what you want in one, y'know. You won't find any in Fuyuki, we've got jack squat, but you'll easily find other hot springs across Japan. Y'see, Japan's a center fer' many active volcanoes, being an island and all, and because of that, we've got lots of hot springs in just about every region.

"Now, as fer' which y'should go to, you've got 'yer choices. There's the Arima hot spring, near Osaka, and it's one of the oldest, said to be Toyotomi Hideyoshi's favorite. Now, I wouldn't listen to tha' opinions of an old fart, and if the red water dissuades ya' from enjoying a soak, there's also the Shibu hot spring. I 'eard it's popular with foreigners since wild monkeys like to partake. But see, if yer' like me, where yer' already surrounded by literal chimps," Gin paused for a moment, glaring at the man who had spilled wine all over their only white suit, "you would probl'y want something else in yer' hot spring. That's where I recommend heading to Gifu. The Gero hot spring is my personal favorite since the water's got alkaline qualities, which makes it feel smoooooth to the touch. I've got a guy there who could arrange you a night or two, if ya' want, but I'm gonna need to talk to yer' parents about tha-..."

Gin had just noticed something odd with the child he was speaking with. He had only realized just now that there's a significant amount of prana pouring out from her. That, along with the strange red mark on her hand, a portion of it faded, only pointed to one realization; a realization that Gin was, again, too late to come to.

"... What did you do?" Gin looked over to Benita, his eyes narrowing. He had suspected she had just used her command spell to have her Servant do something, and due to the small amount of spiritual presences in the bar, the Servant in question had already left to do just what he or she was ordered to do. Gin could only hope it was something to deal with the fire, but still, he couldn't help but be cautious around the girl, now. He considered reaching into one of the talismans in his pocket, in case she had any malicious intent, or if he needed to-



On queue, his men came pouring back into the bar, all of them with their suits completely soaked. In their eyes is a look of utter awe. Some looked fearful, while others looked amazed. Something spectacular must have happened in the city. Whatever it was, however, it only worried Gin harder. Grabbing Benita by the shoulders (gently, of course, since a Samurai wouldn't hurt a child no matter how dangerous they are), Gin looked directly into the child's eyes with a manic expression.

The moment Lancer faced Ruler, Hamel felt himself fall under something like a trance.

Ah, he thought, so this is a hero.

That was not to say Percival wasn't, nor did it mean that in this bloody tournament there weren't any heroes. But this shining figure, this pillar of brilliance was something else entirely. If Lancer was a country, then surely Ruler was the world Lancer rested upon. On an even standing, in a battlefield bereft of the cursed flames that sought to burn away sin itself, the outcome would have been decided.

But it was not such a place. No.

Here in this hellish landscape. In this place filled with curses, filled with the echoing screams of the damned there stood a youth. In the place of sackcloth stood a suit of gleaming red armor, befitting a knight. Where a sack had covered his visage, instead his luxurious locks were free, shining even among these black flames. Where others were cursed, here stood a knight who held perhaps one of the greatest blessing in the world.

And so a fierce battle commenced, every attack Lancer had thrown out was effortlessly parried by that mountain of a man, not even an afterthought put behind each blow. Lancer fought desperately, utilizing every angle presented, any perceived weaknesses, if any could even be found or called weaknesses in that ridiculous hero, only to have his attacks nullified in a single axe swing.

It was a one sided slaughter.

Indeed each strike was parried effortlessly, indeed Lancer could not reach the existence that was Ruler. However, when he threw his javelin, for it to glance off the bare skin of that servant, he had activated the magecraft gifted to him by his master, and let his noble phantasm fend off the strikes of Ruler.

Gathering all his strength, and even going beyond, suddenly he striked in that brief moment available.

A sickening crunch reverberated throughout the battlefield as Lancer mangled his own arm to stop Ruler. An impossible strike, one that reached the threshold and beyond that of a certain curse, and Ruler stopped.

It was a scene beyond anything Hamel could have ever envisioned. The Holy Grail War was surely filled with heroes, is what he had thought. Yes, those ridiculous existences known as heroic spirits are truly being worthy of worship.

Even as his vision tumbled, connected to Lancer, he was still subject to more impossible showings.

A fleeting blue light, and a world deployed over Miyama. Then, a storm of catastrophic proportions.

It was enough to captivate him for minutes on end, only once the storm had begun to peter out, but still remain strong, had Hamel the sense to check up upon his servant.

Lancer, he mentally communicated, Are you alright? Frantically, he began gesturing off to that creation of his lumbering towards the plains where Miyama once stood.

Never mind that, I'm heading over to your location, stay still and don't die.

It would take a while, but he would eventually reach where his servant was located, even if it did take time for his golem to reach him, and then there.





Giulia cursed beneath her breath.

"Tch, seems like I was too late after all." She grumbled.

At first sight of smoke she had excitedly bounded towards the Foreigners District in hopes of collecting some fresh materials. Thoughts of grudges and wraiths had filled her head as she ran towards the plumes of smoke, but as she got closer it became more apparent that the fire itself possessed some irregular properties.

It had taken but a few moments later to realize some enterprising magus had imbued it with the property of binding. Add in a curse of rather substantial weight, and much more later on, Giulia had found something worth much more then the initial prospects of wraiths and grudges.

Thoughts of various things to do, how to implement such a thing in her current models and the effects it could have swam through her thoughts, and as it grew more and more, the greater the burning need she felt to obtain a sample of the fire, she even entertained a rather dangerous thought, but had discarded it.

And now her daydreaming had payed the price.

From where she stood, she doubted she could grab even as much as an ember from the drowning wreck that was Miyama currently.

How such a thought grated at her.

She would have to vent her anger, Giulia thought, in her workshop.

Still under concealment, Giulia astralized and head back home.

@Dosthou


The golem was a giant among its kind. Massive, huge. Normally such a golem would be more than the rival of almost anything that a magus
could design in the modern day.

Unfortunately said golem was in the Fuyuki City where a magus had designed something that completely overshadowed it. The Grail War System to summon and bind small emanations that derived from Heroic Spirits, servants.

A golem of such size would normally be able to fight a servant. Yet this was a rushed job, constructed from materials that were not quite as aged or deep in mystery as those of a high quality. There were foundations and meaning to be tapped upon with wood. But in the face of the Persian King it was not quite enough.

An ax ripped through an arm, while a fist met another. The clash was something that sent ripples through the land. Almost tearing apart the ground as much as the golem had been trying to.

But what broke was not the arm of the, admittedly massive giant in relation to the normal human, of a man, but the gnarled trunk-like arm that burst from the impact that traveled through its seams. Unarmed, the golem toppled without balance from the result of the clash.

The end result was a forgone conclusion. Berserker summoned a number of his soldiers to fetch the smaller chunks while he himself dismantled and chucked into his noble phantasm, the various parts of the golem piece by piece.

Ah, the storm was ending. Darius watched for a moment the climatic end to the chaos that engulfed Miyama before returning to the church. He was, if nothing else, a loyal and dutiful mad-man.

Einzbern Forest, Miyama

While she didn't have the medical resources to heal what had been done. Olivier looked to Roland's Master to see if he could do it himself, at least close up his wounds entirely. These bodies, no matter how enhanced by the Grail, are still nothing but skin and bones against other Servants. "Will you be alright without the other arm?" She asked, eyes trained on him before a voice announced its presence just further in the forest.

"If you all have come here looking for a battle, I will warn you that you didn't bring enough men!" yelled the Einzbern Rider over yonder. With a sigh, Olivier turned around, her helm closed and stepped forward with the hilt of Hauteclere on the end of her palms, gripped tightly should the need arise.

"We prefer not to engage in battle, Einzbern Servant. Master Tohsaka came here for important business. She yelled back in the same volume. This was a War after all, who knows if this Servant is actually the Einzbern's? Could be someone else for all she knew, nevertheless, her grip on the hilt of her sword-spear didn't waver for a bit. Her icy glare through the steel plated grates all apparent to the Rider in question. "Although..." She thought with a grin. "If you attack us first, I will respond in kind. I'd like to know what you're capable of." Such was the mind of Olivier. If they wanted to get ahead in this war then she must learn all she can about potential enemies even allies. Especially to Servants she didn't yet know. Just so long as she protects her Master and Roland's Master as well.

@Cu Chulainn @Crusader Lord @Kyoka @Reflection @Sageage

It wasn't shortly after they took their spot on the bench that all Hell would break loose. Or perhaps a better way to say it would be that Heaven descended to revoke Hell? At the edge of the Foreign District, Serafina had a perfect front-row seat to the show. It had been over half a day at this point, and finally, something was being down to combat the fire. And she wouldn't even have to get involved - oh how fortune smiled.

From the distance she sat, the Noble Phantasm that formed over head was more than a magnificent sight to see. It was, perhaps, beautiful - a glowing, rippling, pulsating world, shining over the Great Fire of Fuyuki like a star.
"Oooooh, interesting." she called aloud, leaning back into the bench and crossing her legs. Servants were powerful, that much she knew, but for one to create an entire world before them? It was exceptional.

And then the star began to fall towards the ground. No, not a star. A comet. A glowing, pulsating, brilliant ball of pure destruction, that would fall upon the world and decimate it underneath.
"Hmmm... Berserker, stand by in case I need protecting, 'kay?" Sera chirruped, turning her gaze from the fireworks display and towards her own Servant, stood eyeing the scene before him.

She could feel it. His entire being was seething with a desire to annihilate whatever Servant producing that world. Everything about him churned in pure and vitriolic hatred - something beyond even the Mad Enhancement of the Berserker Class. Telling him to protect her was just a minor countermeasure - something to, hopefully, prevent him from charging off. If he ignored her, though... nothing short of another Command Seal would halt his wrath. She eyed her hand, and the two ugly purple marks, the remnants of her first Command.

All Serafina had to do was hope, as her eyes were drawn back towards the fire. And then the comet hit. Buildings and pavements caved in under its weight, demolishing block after block with its immense force. Even before the shock-wave, at this distance she could feel the pressure; two terribly powerful forces colliding, both with the desire to obliterate the other.

And then the shock-wave - a resounding and deafening crack of collision, followed by a wave of pure energy. Buildings crumbled and were torn from their foundations; trees uprooted; windows shattered. Sera barely stayed in the bench - and might not have down - but before her stood Berserker, protecting her as asked. And then it was over, as quickly as it had come.

"Well, that was fun!" her legs swung up from the bench as she spoke, and she pushed herself off, allowing her to stand side by side with Berserker, "You'll get your fight later, 'kay? I wanna see if that Caster has done anything with the Temple yet." with that, she turned her back, and began walking through the debris of the now decimated Foreign District, and back to the Temple.

Berserker, though, lingered, the boiling pot of wrath and insanity urging him to fight. Less a desire and more of an innate drive - one to murder those who he deemed betrayed him. Even his closest and longest friends. Even the one who stopped that fire. Clouds swelled above the crater, pelting it with rain and hail and thunder. Entering into it would be a mistake, even on his part. But as he turned away to follow his Master, he recognised that man.

He recognised Achilles.

Troilus trudged forwards, sniffling. It was impossible to derive any happiness from the tragic events of the day. For a child who’d lived his life sheltered by those who loved him, he had never seen such devastation, death and destruction on such a terrifying scale.

For him, warfare had been something that happened outside the city, out of view. Even when besieged by the enemy, they’d been out of view, hidden from him by Troy’s walls. He’d seen the results, now and then - brothers, cousins, uncles, dragged back into safety, wounded and dying. But even that had been uncommon, in Troilus’ world.

Something passed him. He felt the wind whip past him as something sped through the nearby city streets with dizzying rapidity.

Troilus froze.

That level of speed could only belong to a single person. That man. The fastest among Heroic Spirits, a man with unmatchable swiftness. One who was ‘the fastest’. One who couldn’t be outrun, under any circumstances.

No, that was impossible. It couldn’t be that man. If it was him, Troilus would already be dead. In Troilus’ world, that man meant nothing less than death itself. He remembered-

Hiding in the temple of Apollo, praying for a help that never arrived. A shadow, falling over him as he sobbed in pain and terror, and-

Troilus turned around. He saw that man’s world, descending on the fire. No matter how great the fire was, it didn’t matter.

A hero who could do nothing but destroy. A hero who had never truly saved anyone, who had only fought and slain others. A typhoon of slaughter, a comet prophesying absolute devastation. Of course, his method of ‘saving people’ would mean their annihilation. A man who had perverted a shield with the purpose of defending into a weapon causing utter ruin.

Yes, that man was truly death incarnate.

Running wouldn’t do any good, but Troilus ran anyway.

Returning to the Clockwork Fortress of Troy

The trip across town was exhilirating, and the little Oni clung tight to Tesla's chest as he carried her, the very image of the gallant prince and his princess... Even if that couldn't be further than the truth. Still she had been wrong about this one. Even if he had been soft in their first meeting, any man who would not only drink with the oni but sweep her off her feet was truly a man with perfect bones and it set her little heart aflutter to be treated like his girl, even for a moment. Alas it was not meant to last, and when they reached the end of their journey she took to her feet.

Shuten of course had no interest in returning to the woods to see to Ana, compared to her new sweetheart he was just simply not entertaining enough. "Oh, but I don't have a master Sweetheart... It's just little old Shuten, doing whatever she pleases... And spending time with my sweetheart pleases me fufufu~!" She made no pretense about her name with him, there was no need to. Afterall she knew his name, he was Zeus, so this was fair. Even if he wasn't the real Zeus, he was ferocious enough despite his shortcomings to sate her idea of what a god should be.

Alas flirting too would have to wait, as Archer had much and more to do about the little mess they had helped to make. True to the namesake of 'Little drunkard' when Tesla set to work she did as well, getting out of his way and taking to her gourd as he concocted his weather machine. "Oh my... My Sweetheart is so clever, to make a comfortable home for his lightning from just scrap metal... You're so smart it's kind of scary, you know?" She leaned against him heavily, wrapping an arm around his waist as they watched the roiling of the clouds and the spreading of the fire, and the falling of the world upon it all.

The rush of wind from the impact reached them there even on the other side of the bridge, sending her kimono aflutter, and Shuten clung tighter to Archer. She could feel the cold hard metal of his arm now, pressed against her bare side. "...Oh but I've caused you so much trouble haven't I? I'm the most terrible wife in the world... You really are too good for me sweetheart, to not just tolerate but to indulge such a terrible little woman in her curiosities." She smiled up at him, a fanged grin and eyes full of something that might just be genuine happiness. She reached up a slender pale hand, to interlock her fingers with his. Not the cold metal born of her own wretched tantrum, the warm human hand.

For just a minute it might be nice to not be a demon.
@floodtalon

Receiving the orders from his Master, Rider nodded. As he observed the approaching figures, once again, he kept note of the two men who seemed to be the Masters of this knighty troupe. Of the two, he took special note of the one who seemed to be of Japanese descent. I believe the Tohsaka Master has made his way here, along with a companion. Shifting his gazes to the two Servants, he had noticed that one had lost an arm and looks quite under the weather. The other, who had confirmed that her Master was indeed the Tohsaka, wielded a sword- or was it a spear- and confidently rebuked his challenge. Seeing as this particular Servant's blade looked familiar, Rider grinned at the thought of facing such an opponent. Despite wanting to experience what it would be like to fight this Servant, however, he simply lowered his weapon, choosing to follow the orders of his Master, instead.

"Miss Sophia was expecting you, Tohsaka... Hideyoshi, am I correct? In any case, my Master's terms are for you to keep your Servant materialized and in my line of sight while within these woods. Failure to accept this will result in... well, I think that much is obvious. These terms also extend to your companion, as well. If you choose to accept these terms, then I, Saber, shall lead you to the compound."

Turning away, Rider walked to a nearby tree, one that was rather large in size. Allowing his shield to dematerialize, Rider held his sword in both hands. He made sure to make eye contact with the female knight who had challenged him earlier before he swung his blade down with the entirety of his natural strength, cleanly cutting across the tree. Sheathing his sword, Rider then turned towards the large trench he had made just earlier. With a simple push of his palm, the tree began to fall, its other end landing on the other side of the trench. In other words, Rider had made a makeshift bridge for his guests to walk across while allowing them to have a glance of his true strength. Cheeky bastard.

Shuten was quite talkative as Tesla worked on his weather machine, claiming to be masterless despite the fact that she was here. Unless she had an Independent Action of EX, there was no possible way she could be sustaining her existence without any type of master. But knowing the capricious Oni besides him, she might just be. There was really no telling with such a chaotic existence like herself. She shared her name freely, a pang of guilt striking Tesla as he realized he had not shared his own name. "Oh my... My Sweetheart is so clever, to make a comfortable home for his lightning from just scrap metal... You're so smart it's kind of scary, you know?" Tesla paused his work as she said this, wrapping her arm around his form as the machine continued to pump out it's strange blue smoke into the sky. His heart fluttered as he felt her press herself into him, he had never felt something like this in his life. Of course he logically knew that this was love, so many great authors and poets had described this sensation in his reading that he would obviously know what it was. But no description on paper could ever truly capture the beating of his heart, the dilating of eyes as he looked upon the woman of his affections, the nerves as he wondered if she would still feel this way if she knew who he really was, not the God of Lightning but a mere man.

It was strange really, to think he would so easily fall in love with someone so unlike himself. Whereas he lived his life shackled by his many habits and rituals, the Oni of Mount Ooe lived strictly by her own desires. When she wanted something she went for it with no inhibitions, no matter what the cost. Perhaps there was a sort of beauty in that kind of life. She pressed herself into the cold metal of his false arm, the arm that she had taken. "...Oh but I've caused you so much trouble haven't I? I'm the most terrible wife in the world... You really are too good for me sweetheart, to not just tolerate but to such a terrible little woman in her curiosities." The wind rushed towards them, sending their hair and clothes flying about wildly as the world of Achilles crashed into Miyama, annihilating any life that may have been left. A storm brewed quickly afterwards, something far stronger than Tesla could have ever created with his hastily made weather machine. But it mattered not.

All that mattered was the woman pressed into him, interlocking her fingers with his own with a gentleness unfitting of the terrible Oni of legend. Tesla smiled lovingly, clenching her hand softly as they looked into each others eyes, something he had never experienced in his work dominated past life. "Don't say something like that. You are the most wonderful thing I have ever experienced, I would go through anything if it meant spending but another minute with you. You are my darling after all." He used no skills to find the words, he simply drew upon what he was feeling in that moment. The first words of love he had ever spoken, both in this life and the last. To see her smile that smile, something filled with happiness simply from him, it was a feeling unmatched by any other.

Perhaps if he held her tightly enough, they could stay in this moment forever, untouched by the cruel war they fought in.

That smile spread with his words, almost eerily so, and her heart felt like it would explode in her chest. She hadn't felt this kind of joy in a thousand years, not since she had last crossed path with the golden boy. Was she just projecting her other feelings onto him or was this infatuation genuine? For her it was impossible to say, but it didn't matter either. This was too perfect, it really was too perfect. To hold and to to be held by someone fearless even in the face of demons, to touch and to be touched by someone with the strength of a god. This was what made the heart of even a demon stir!

...But that was just it. While it would be nice to have been a normal girl, Shuten Douji was not a normal girl.

There was love there, that should not be questioned, but it was not a love that could be understood by anyone but a demon.

There was passion there, that should not be questioned, but it was the kind of passion that consumes things like a fire.

There was happiness there, that should not be questioned, but it was the smile of a demon.

Her fingers tightened and a deathly cold spread from her touch to his, like a frigid leech instantly robbing his body of motion. No, not like that, that was exactly what it was. Her hand was a microcosm of heat in an increasingly cold world as she sucked away his life. She was eating him alive, plundering his vital essence... But it was not his vital essence that her heart desired.

The clatter of her dropped drinking vessel echoed through the air as a crimson flower bloomed around the hand that carried it not even a second before... A hand now sticking clean through Archer and out of his back as it gripped his now displaced spinal column.

She smiled up at him still, but the look in her eyes was profoundly sad, as if this part of her was something she regretted. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I just can't help myself... but I really did love you." As he collapsed, an unavoidable effect of no longer having a spine, she pulled him forward by the hand and leaned in for the kiss.

(I took some pretty big dramatic liberties with the attack for aesthetics sake, if you can wriggle free half of this post will probably be disregarded.)
@floodtalon

Roland adjusted his cloak once more, doing his best to hide the bleeding. His hand brushed against the spot where blood dripped along his armor, and he pulled away so that he could look to Olivier. "It's nothing. Just a little poison and a missing arm." He said, though it seemed like he didn't even believe that. "My uncle won't be happy about it. What a farce. A paladin, losing his arm and sword and in one motion." He laughed, but it was clear he wasn't laughing at the humor of the situation. "We should-"

"If you all have come here looking for a battle, I will warn you that you didn't bring enough men!"

"Naturally, we have her. We don't need more men." Roland laughed, gesturing to the other Saber class servant on his side. It probably wasn't wise to tease the other servant, but considering Roland's current state, it was a terrible idea. Thankfully, it seemed Olivier did know what to say, and they were expected.

Roland rolled his eyes at the needless show of strength. But he was indeed jealous. He saw that strength, and despite all this, he wanted to fight this man. This other 'saber' servant was a true warrior. A true obstacle. Once he retrieved his sword, he knew without a doubt that he would fight this man. He wanted to fight another hero, and prove to his master that he wasn't weak. Maybe that was just his bruised ego talking.

"You don't need to show off." Roland grumbled out, leaning onto Olivier for support.

With clenched fists Hideyoshi nodded his head towards the third Saber he had met since the dawn of the war. It took everything he had to keep his cool, yet the fact that he had kept his cool seemed to aggravate him even more. His home had been destroyed. An unknown number of civilians had their lives torn away from them in seconds. Killed for no reason, killed just because they happened to be there. Killed because of the Grail. Killed because of the Three Families. Killed because of him. His wish was worth nothing. The root of magic? What good would it do now? He wanted to yell. He wanted to cry. He should have been there at his house, with his people. He should have died with them. For it was his fault.

"Saber... Now is not the time. I am sure you will be able to witness the abilities of the Einzbern servant in due time. But do so while fighting alongside him. Not against him." By the tone of his voice it was almost like he was unaffected by the events that had transpired. There had been no change in his outward demeanour. But now his mind was on one thing. "Of course we shall follow your masters demands, I would not wish to offend her not betray her trust. I come here seeking friendship after all."

Allowing the Einzbern servant to take the lead of the group so that they could follow as ordered Hideyoshi found himself deep in thought. He didn't know what he should have expected for the Holy Grail War. But this? It was too much. But still he held himself firmly together and turned to his old teacher. "I am glad that you are safe Sensei. Your servant too." With a gentle smile he hoped that others had made it out alive, the head of the Matou family in particular.

Ah, of course. It was as her fingers tightened on his that he understood what was going to happen, not even needing a skill to know he was in danger from the love of an Oni. Her touch was cold, o she wasn't cold it was just him. Of course, how absolutely hilarious. It was so funny it made him want to break someone's neck. Tesla stared her in the eyes and smiled, but this smile was robbed of all warmth he had previously held. Truly Shuten had robbed him of all the warmth he held in that moment, his heart no longer fluttered but it beat a calm steady rhythm as he decided on his course of action. There would be no escaping without consequences, that much was certain.

So the course of action was to be that then? How hilarious. Truly the funniest joke he had ever been the subject of. Now for the punchline. He raised his mechanical arm into the air, lightning sparking in his hand as he whispered but a single word.



His arm swung down just as the beautiful Oni began her attack, the world lighting up in a brilliant flash of white. All throughout the city would see it, a magnificent blast of energy tearing through the last bridge connecting the plain formerly known as Miyama and Shinto. From the Church to the Temple, all would see the might of the Modern Prometheus as he struck out against the one he loved.

Where there had once been land, now there was not. But it was not a full invocation, for there would be no possibility of Tesla surviving his own full power. No, this was merely an A ranked blast of pure lightning, blasting the ground between Tesla and Shuten and blowing them apart. He was heavily injured, only surviving thanks to using Galvanism to absorb most of the energy that had struck him. Burns from the energy that seared his skin, lacerations from the myriad of shrapnel that cut through his flesh as he flew backwards, but this was not the end of his injuries. There was also the hand sized hole in his chest, mere millimeters from his spinal column. To try and tear out his spine, what a vicious attack from the tiny girl he loved so. But without doubt, the greatest injury was the one you couldn't even see, and that didn't mean the internal bleeding.

No, it was his shattered heart. How absolutely hilarious, to remain solitary and without love throughout his life. And the first time it finds him it tries to kill him. Truly the funniest joke of them all. It was these thoughts that floated through his mind as he stared at the sky, floating in the river surrounded by pieces of bridge.

She expected that to be the end of it, she could practically taste the kiss on her lips, but instead the air crackled with static. Her eyes went wide, her hand was already in the chest cavity when the air blossomed with all the heat and fury of the god of thunder and Shuten's heart skipped a beat. Even at the last possible second he was vital, squirming with life and purpose in the face of deat. Oh this most certainly was not infatuation at all, this was true love.

A surge of raw mana flooded her body and Shuten's hand jerked sharply up just before leaving the hole it had created, and her other hand pulled back roughly. Crack. Snap. Crunch. As the blast drove their bodies apart, hers reinforced by pure mana and his oh-so-frail, she pulled his arm clean off with the one hand and jerked a sizable chunk of the left side of his rib cage out with the other. A shame there would be no fountain of gore to decorate this occasion, all cooked off instantly in the flash of lightning.

She landed, kimono in smoldering tatters and flesh streaked with electrical burns but otherwise not much worse for wear due to her Mana Burst. Both hands were full, but her beloved had demonstrated that he did in fact have a spine. As she watched his body land in the river she called out, waving with his own arm in a grotesque show of her enthusiasm for her newfound love. "Sweetheart, you really went all out! I hope our next date is even more exciting Fufufu~!" Next date? Did she really expect him to survive? Of course she did, anyone who would spit in death's face while drunk on an Oni's wine would come back for their arm.

She went to take a loud crunching bite out of the arm, gore trailing messily down her lips as she swallowed a mouthful of warm electrically-charred meat and splintered bone. "...Just Remember, you belong to me now... Down to the very marrow of your bones~!" She sounded almost rabidly happy as she called down the river to Archer as he was carried away, a voice that was singsong and energetic despite her normally lethargic nature.

They say a good meal is better with the ones you love.

@floodtalon

...

So many, torn from this world. Their lives snuffed out without warning, their souls burned to nothingness, their hopes and dreams and ideals ground to dust without even a scrap of rhyme or reason.

Death is just another beginning. I know that better than anyone else. I repeat the words to myself in an attempt to clear my blurry vision, but the world around me thrums in response, shaking and shuddering even as my words draw up into a scream. A raucous, terrible screech engraves itself into space. A cry for the end of innocence. A cry of a parent who has lost their child. It shakes the earth around me as I feel it tear from my throat. Pound. Pound. Pound. A great ceremonial drum buried in the confines of my skull, growing louder every time I think of those fallen, every time I take a breath. It's as if my body, as if the very space around me is trying to convince me that those words are mere sophistry, but I truly do believe in them.

...still, though, the fact that those lives were taken by another, spirited away in the dead of night...the thought causes my stomach to sink. Something races through my body, something that I can't quite place.

This feeling...what is it?

I don't recognize it. It's unfamiliar. This tightness in my chest, it's something that drowns out sorrow with an overwhelming heat.

Ah...

...enmity, that's it.

This is hatred.

This is hatred for the one that dared to create such a tragedy.

Strange. How absurdly strange.

I don't recall hating something before, not once. I've felt frustration, annoyance, disdain, dislike, pity, exasperation, anger, but never hatred. Never true enmity. There has never been someone or something that I'd feel joy for the thought of burning to the bloody ground until now. It's as if I can hear them, the sorrowed screams of hundreds of thousands, desperately calling out in protest of their pointless deaths. The thought causes my chest to tighten further, causes that heat to rise until it feels as if my blood is truly boiling.

...is this your work? Ha, you're probably laughing, trying to claim credit for a complete accident, aren't you? That's just your character, after all.

Well, I can't say that I'm upset by that. If it took someone like you to galvanize me to action, then perhaps that's for the best. Maybe my old methods simply aren't up to snuff, if this is what I'm up against. If I'm up against something that deserves to be hated, then I should attack it with everything I have, right?

Some of those cherished people, they'll become my enemies, since they won't understand. It will hurt, without question, but I'll have to persevere.

Tragedies like this...I can't accept them. I shuffle forwards, and stare at my own face reflected in the ■■■■■.

The dull growl that cuts through my ears rings true, as if affirming my own resolve with its own. The thought fills me with disgust, but it's a disgust that I must force my way through.

Right. I don't want to hate, but I can't help but hate these meaningless tragedies. So, so...I'll force that restraint down. I'll lock my hesitation and pacifism away, because as loathe as I am to admit it, pacifism won't prevent those tragedies.

I cannot ignore it. I cannot let it go ignored.

Its foul deeds. Its cruelty. The demon that does nothing but wear a thin smile while bringing about countless sorrows.

It has the ability and means to solve these tragedies, and despite that nothing is done. Bearing a knowing smile, nothing is done. I scream at it, I pour out my heart in a desperate appeal. Does it feel nothing? Does it not have even a shred of compassion to right these wrongs? Does it not see the monstrosity that it brings about without pause?

It responds to my pleas: "Well, I must say, not at all?"

At this, I feel rage. At this, I feel sorrow. At this, I feel hate.

I cannot forgive it. And so, inscribed here is my wrath. I leave a path for those who follow. I leave this inscribed here, with the hope that there will be a continuation to these words.

Delve into the foundation. Shatter the dividing chains.

All resources will be required to destroy it.

All time will be necessary to forget it.

Seek the road to the nameless place. There sits the throne where tragedy might be overturned.

The name of that sky is ■■■■■■■. The extremity that lies at the end. The alter where time whirls, the hope that leads to the beginning.

And so, I proclaim-

If a monster bares its teeth at humans, I will protect them.

If a human seeks to slaughter its own kin, I will defeat them.

If the world dares to bring harm down upon humans, I will oppose it.

-Because, I want everyone to smile.

Smile, and laugh, and love. They all deserve it. Everyone deserves to be free and happy. Everyone deserves their best possible life.

So, it is a bitter pill, but I'll swallow this feeling of hate, and burn it as fuel. Everything I feel, everything I am, it's fine if that burns up in pursuit of this goal. It's fine if I lose "me", it's fine if my name becomes the name of a stranger, because sacrificing myself for a goal like this is something I must accept.

...after all, this is all for ■■■■ in the end.

Fuyuki was one of the port cities that greatly benefited from the opening of trade with the west. It had grown rapidly after the start of the Meiji era, becoming a city with nearly five hundred thousand souls contained within. It was a third the size of Tokyo. After a few hours, the dust finally settled. The storms final aftereffects ended. And it became absolutely clear that-

The beating heart of Fuyuki had been destroyed. No, that wasn't right. It was gauged out in a single moment of naked force. The cursed fire was gone, surely. However, the center of the city contained within the foreign district, parts of Miyama proper and the commercial district had been smashed by an entire world.

Not only that. But a wild storm had been released on the city shortly after, which could destroy even a Servant. How could wooden buildings, let alone people, survive that? A storm to end all storms had turned practically all of the urbanized parts of Miyama into wild land. The outlying areas with sparser population had survived, along with nearly all the native district- though flooding in these parts did get bad. Even the river itself had turned against Fuyuki, overflowing into the city wherever it could've.

It was no surprise that the death toll was already at one hundred fifty thousand. This number, surely, would raise as time went on. If the destruction had occurred during the day, many more would have died- but thankfully, that wasn't the case. Survivors from Miyama were being ferried across the river and being set up in various camps. The largest were in Shinto proper, the Railyards, and the Eastern Farms.

This truly was a disaster at the national level for Japan itself. But, that wasn't the end of it. At the crack of dawn, the city nor its refugees allowed even a moment of rest. Within an hour of suns first light, a great earthquake occurred- the shocks from its power felt across both Miyama and Shinto. At the very least, there was only minor damage done to the infrastructure of what remained in Fuyuki.

Irrelevant of how little damage it caused, the fact it occurred at all was a more than ominous start for the day.

However.

A plain parchment found its way to each and every master participating in the war- delivered by Lesser Ruler. Signed by Greater Ruler, it contained a simple yet almost war shattering offer.

---

His body was, naturally, paralyzed. Not only had he experienced enough damage to shock his spiritual core, the various poisons of the river began to affect him. Tesla was in a vulnerable position where 'even a mouse could kill him'. That was a misnomer, of course. A servant could never be killed by a mouse, or 'normal' human. If this carried on, he would wash out to sea and be carried away. Most likely, he would die. A Servant could not maintain their existence after losing a limb, at least not a normal one.

Just cuts was never enough. But losing a limb was a eventual death sentence to any normal servant. He was utterly immobile at the moment, unable to even properly form coherent thought to contact his master. A shared perception with his master was impossible for the moment.

So, of course, it was only natural.

Tesla never reached the ocean on his own. After leaving his so called 'Lover' behind for quite some time, something unsightly appeared.

The Thing had Great Horns, that would certainly remind him of the dragons of so called mythology. Its skin was scaley and of a darker hue, though it was difficult to make out much more at night.

What was more relevant-

In its mouth, a partially devoured human head dangled. Its face was twisted into utter horror. They had most certainly died of some nameless insanity long before they were made into food.

But judging by the size of the Things claws, it was no scavenger.

Put simply, it was a 'Monster with the Authority to Devour All Heroes".

"▂▂▂▂▃▃▃▃▅▅ ! ! ! ! !"

An inhuman screech that would've caused even a Servant to cover their ears.

And then-

For a moment, they must've locked eyes. Its glare was inhuman and draconic. Its tail swished for but a single moment, while it unfurled bat-like wings. It happened at the speed of Servants.

It leaped forward, head still in its mouth. It lept for him. The Thing came for his life.

With such speeds a normal human wouldn't even notice the event taking place, it tackled Tesla into deeper into the water. For a moment, its claw like nails seemed to embed themselves into his torso. Flesh was ripped into ribbons.

But.

The river was swelling, seemingly out of nowhere-

The Fae Storm that followed the shield. The endless wind and lightning and hail that could kill even a Hero. The storm was pushing them both out to the ocean-!

Quickly, the pair became a twirling ball of claw, robotic arm, pink flesh, and peerless scale. It was like a ballet of Death.

But.

The Thing seemed more concerned with its own survival, and not its new morsel.

It seemed like, perhaps, once more, fate had intervened to save Archers life. If that magical storm hadn't came, he would've died. That was the last thought he had.

Because in the end-

Tesla blacked out, seemingly sinking further down into the ocean.

@floodtalon

---

So much destruction. Xerxes remained seated in his workshop, and sitting in front of him, were five gemstones. He didn't speak about it, not out loud though. No, these five gemstones were worth quite a deal now, and he wasn't a fool who wasted such valuable things on mere whims. No, he'd be holding onto these for as long as he could.

To his right was a chalice, and despite his best attempts, he had discovered very little. Almost nothing new came from that. Instead, he had spent only a short period sleeping, getting the rest he needed, and the other hours he had spent peering into that goblet and pondering his next course of action.

"I see, welcome back, Berserker." Xerxes said, as the massive man appeared behind him. "You did well. I think we might be on to something useful." Xerxes said, already holding the cup again to peer about into its contents. "You're truly the best servant I could ask for." Though he had to admit, in a brief period of time he had also peeked in on Tesla, that poor man. Well, if asked for it, Xerxes knew quite a few things about love. He had quite a few many lovers in his lifetime, though he was never all that sure if he should brag about it. Most could have been called whores.

But in his other hand, he held the letter from Ruler. A challenge to find the man responsible for this. In a way, it was not only something he could handle, but something he relished the challenge of. And what he could get out of it. Two more command seals, how useful for dealing with Berserker.

But, there was one problem. The people in need. He justified his lack of involvement to Ludwig, but even Xerxes knew it was shallow at best. He dare not get involved, since the people were being cared for and a mage's involvement in helping them would only make them targets. Logically sound, but still it might not work forever.

"Right, Berserker. First thing first is to keep our eyes open. I may send you out later to investigate some leads. In your... Personal method of doing so." Xerxes said, reaching up to pat the large man on the shoulder. "Do make sure to be gentle. The people have suffered enough." A lie. He cared little for the people of Fuyuki. He only wanted their belongings, which he could no longer claim since the storm had wiped away so much of it. He had to move on. Search out other things of value. "You're a good boy like that~"

But for now, he had a letter to write.