Across the mojave, a warm wind blew. Sand shifted in the dunes, and scorpions burrowed to meet the moonlight.

In the casinos along the strip, tourists gambled. Slot machines, card games, roulette; games that filled them with hope, the chance to win the prize of a lifetime.

There were people losing their lives here, gambling away what they could not afford, desperate for one last win. Alongside the people filled with hope, there were those filled with despair as those hopes crumbled to dust.

Through the rest of the city, life progressed as normal. Those who lived and worked here were not ensnared by the illusion of gold that drew people into the glamour. For those people, the city of their daily lives was to become a battleground.

Was it crueler for them, or for the people who would have that illusion cruelly stripped away?

But there was value in illusions, too. The glamour of the theatre, the beauty of music, the craftsmanship of those who crafted tricks of false magic… Yes, this place was not simply a snare for the gullible. That beauty was to be painted over with the blood of war.

“Things should be getting hectic soon.”

There was a faint grin on the Second Owner's face as he cast a gaze over the city reflected in glass.

“Seems like a bunch of freaks made it. Lucky me.”

It wasn’t surprising, exactly. He’d tried to draw as many of them possible here, but he was surprised at the extent to which he’d succeeded.

“Ah, they’re gonna make a real mess of my city. Guess it can’t be helped. No guts, no glory, that’s what the old man always said.”

From what he could tell about the people who’d shown up - well, restraint didn’t seem like it would be a factor. He was certainly sorry for the people who would get caught up in this.

“Hm. I wonder what the winner’s wish will be?”

The devil’s roulette began to spin. A wheel of death, that would spin, and spin, until only one was left alive. For one to achieve heaven, many more would be cast into hell.

@Kala

“Hmm. So this is the modern world.” That was the first thing he had said to his master.
Archer had seemed a imposing man, quiet but imposing. He asked basic analytical questions, mainly about the powers of his master, and on his own abilities. Proud, confident. He boasted of his raw power, and his ability, but delving into the specifics he was surprisingly precise and analytical. Despite his ego, he was, befitting his history, the hunter from which Israel fled from.

But that all changed the moment he noticed the city around them as they left the space that they met in. Jumping up to a lamp post to crouch over and hold onto, he let out a whistle as he took in the overwhelming sights of Las Vegas. His eyes had a glint of hunger, the excitement of anticipation as they scanned the bright cityscape. “I want to head out and have fun, master. I’ll give you victory, but it’s fine if I go out, right?”

He grinned. His blood was practically boiling, his gaze unable to focus as he looked at attraction after attraction. Just how many things were there? “Oh?.. that’s a crazy drink. It’s a buncha colors. Blue.. purple… pink… orange. Wait, that’s food? That’s not bread.. Wait is that bread? I’m not sure even I could fit that into my mouth.”

The sight of an experienced hunter, and the city-viewing gaze of the Archer class. Perhaps one could call it frivolous, but from there Archer could see all about the city and the details of the various ongoers gorging themselves on vice and fun. At the time he even looked rather lighthearted, almost childish in how he practically salivated at the notion of joining them to sate himself.

But then he let out a quiet “Hmf.” one signifying self-satisfaction before leaping back down. He raised his head over his shoulder, and looked over to his master with a growing grin. “If there’s anyone strong they’ll come out, for me. So don’t worry, just by walking out I promise a battle. Ah but wait a minute.” He smiled normally and laughed. “Do you even eat? A normal, genuine question. “Well, it’s a little weird if you stand around eating while I don’t but that’s fine with me.”

Really, it wasn’t like that he needed to eat either. But that wasn’t what his body was telling him. Life was about using your strength, and enjoying life because of your strength. It was as simple as that, and for him his power itself was an enjoyment too.

"I think I get an idea of where I can fight. There's a lot of variety here, but this place is small compared to the forests I've been around. Easy enough, I could hit something from one side at the other... maybe. I guess it's harder if it's a human sized target. I'm better at hunting monsters. But when it comes to fighting I'm strong."

Vanessa F. Meriweather

---

A stiff breeze was blowing through her hair, as she stood on the very top of the hospital, the dazzling lights of the city reflected in her lifeless eyes. She had long lost care for any sort of modesty, the wind blowing her skirt dangerously around going unnoticed. What use was modesty with such a cursed body like hers.

"This..." Vanessa held up her hand, the circular serpent design on it an angry red against her skin. "This can help me.... right?"

She spoke to seemingly no one. A plea to the heavens answered. Whatever demon possessed her, it seemed God has given her guidance. Drawn to this place, her instincts pushing her here to the hospital. She was no murderer, not if she can help it, so she did not enter the hospital proper, but rather only into its darker basements and rooftops, where she claimed the entire hospital as her territory.

She had prayed to God for salvation, and in her need was given an angel of vengeance through a ring of fire and blood, heralded by mystic smoke and otherworldy pressure. His voice shook the very bones in her body, and his visage sent fear to even the deepest recesses of her mind. If even a sinner like her was given a chance at salvation, given a sword to wield to save themselves, then she would have no reason to hesitate anymore, does she?

"Ah, is this the number for Eve's Garden: Paradise on Earth?"

-

"Good. I was wondering if I could inquire about your services."

-

"Me and my friend here were wondering about the quality of your garden. See, we're on a 2 week stay here in Vegas, and we were wondering where we could spend some time in one."

-

"Oh? You'll do it? Great! So, what are the rates?"

-

"...Eh? A "job?" We're not really looking for work, and you don't really need to do anything."

-

"W-what are you talking about?"

-

"waaaa! N-no! Disgusting!"

---

The girl's face was beet red as she slammed the phone back onto the payphone. Whatever the conversation on the phone was about, it certainly left a mark on her. Her face remained red as she returned to her car, turning face away from her Servant as she started the ignition.

“I-it seems that the card we found on the ground didn’t help us any. Instead of a place to set up, we were led to filthy people! For a place called “Paradise,” it seems ripe with sin.”

“Though, I guess it’s also called Sin City.”

What a mess she was already in, just a mere few hours after summoning her Servant.

After summoning her Servant, using her own scythe as a catalyst, they grew acquainted, and then instantly hit the Vegas Strip. It wasn’t to gamble, at least not yet, but to see where they kept the most plants. It was during this quick survey at the cultural heart of Vegas that Kamila picked up the suspicious card.

It was a simple business card left on the ground, it had flowers covering all four corners. In the center held a rather voluptuous lady wearing left clothing, but Kamila assumed it was just a way to catch the viewer’s eye. Why would someone just leave that kind of thing out in the public like that?! Wasn’t it illegal in Vegas?!

How naive she was, having faith in people.

“Sorry about wasting time, Caster, but this baby should make up for any lost time.”

With a quick flick of the list, Kamila shifted gears. With the one thing stopping her out of the way, she slammed her foot on the pedal, and the purple Bugatti Veyron blasted out of the seedy parking lot they were waiting in.

“The rest of the Servants should be summoned by now. I’m confident that we’ll win, but I do wonder what sort of figures we’ll be up against. Say, do you think any of them summoned Heracles? That’d be fun, wouldn’t it? Wait, didn't the Greeks destroy all of his Catalysts? Aaahhh, we're not going to get anyone big are we/”

Of course, she actually didn’t hope that someone had summoned Heracles. Even without knowing what he had as a Servant, Kamila was terrified to see what that behemoth would have.

“So, is there any place you wanted to go? We can go back to the strip and gamble a bit if you want, we’ve got enough to play around with.

Ooooorrrr…”

The Knight turned her head over to her Servant, meeting her with a serious expression, in spite of her still red face.

“Do we play serious night one?”

The harsh sun of the devil beat down on the desert wasteland, not a soul in sight besides the sole wanderer. At least to some, that is what she would have appeared as.

Dressed like a Victorian doll, the lone figure flowed through the harsh air, using the sand as a pallette for her foot, drenched in blood. When finally the pattern was finished to her ideal picture, a smull humming began to emanate from the girl, beginning to dance lovingly around the pattern, idly eyeing up the glowing marking on her hand, a vacant smile as she did so.

She need not utter a word, her dancing was in a way, words without complications. Slowly but surely, the pattern began to glow. Her smile grew into one of pleasure as she curtsied at the edge of the circle, awaiting her Servant.

"Welcome back to the world"




-"And then Rider, the one known as Billie Elliot still succeeds and his love of dancing is rewarded with an acceptance to the Ballet School, even though he physically assaulted another. Then he performs the marvellous Swan lake, a testament to his ability""

The girl idly danced around their suite, eyeing up the surrounding area as she cast a gaze over to Rider again, curious to know what the ancient king thought of the much more modern world. Unlike most, she had the chance to watch as the centuries changed, but that was much less interesting when you are trapped in a Sicilian Workshop until the turn of a millennia. But just as she had aspired to, she prospered and here she remained.

Her summoning she wanted done in private, afterwards she had directed Rider to follow her to the limo parked nearby, courtesy of one unfortunate airport limo driver who had discovered just how charming she could be, especially with those pretty little strings embedded within him. Her money supply was solid, not exceptionally large however, she made use of what she could. After the arrival in Vegas, Valentina made short work of the strip, having done her research she knew that the penthouse suit of the Excalibur Hotel was reserved but no one had occupied it for weeks.

All it took was a few words.

Now here she was, gliding around the eccntric room, her feet pointed and precise as they glided around the floor, a dance that could quite quickly turn into a ritual. Her guard was up, if anything went wrong here she would lose everything. She had "asked" a bellboy very nicely to put her extra cargo in a safe location in the casino below them and that alone was a worry.

"I hope that tale is detailed enough to be remembered in your library Ancient One" She remarked to him as she gazed out the window, clenching her fist hard as she watched humans mull about in their own depravity. Sin City, what a disgusting place. A place where humans enslaved their own kind with devilish acts. If she had a stomach she would've been sick. "Perhaps your library may be an idea soon, I can feel the air tighten around us. Tell me, what do you think of this new world, it is interesting, no?"

As she spoke she picked up her needle and thread and a smull patchwork husk, getting back to work.

Truth be told, Nenet was a little bit disappointed in the results of her summoning.

Not because her contracted partner was weak, far from it- in terms of raw combat potential, one could rarely ask for more than a Saber-class Servant. No, she was disappointed because of how fixed this whole system was. The curses of compulsion for this war weren't just crystallized magical energy, but actual curses- the process of weaving them meant it wasn't the sort of thing she could casually reproduce. The spiritual foundation of a Servant was also a relatively fixed existence, given what her hopes for a Ghost Liner's transience had been.

Well, in the first place, rudimentary protections had been established, so she could at least speak and act freely, without worrying about others watching.

"A-ny-way, no offense or anything, but we're coming into here disadvantaged. Catalysts for the bigshots don't really exist anymore, but that doesn't change that our personal combat acumen's going to be lower than a lot of the others here. A lot of that's my fault- I'm not much of a fighter."

Ah well. Like with any task, there are ways to circumvent the obstacles.

"So, time for a lesson in how my organization and I work. Basically, if there's not a predicted 'future with a victory', a member of Atlas won't fight. The others who've been attracted here are undoubtedly superior to me at fighting, just like how a few of the other Servants here are probably superior to you when it comes to fighting. So, we need alternate methods to achieve victory. For us, fighting means assembling the proper ingredients ahead of time, to create a future where we win. This is the creed of Atlas- we don't fight the enemy, we fight our own minds."

Thought Acceleration is the magic of Atlas. Going beyond merely thinking quickly, it is the process of applying that ability to multi−expansion diagrams. And furthermore, superior alchemists must have multiple sectors in their brains. If Thought Acceleration is proof of an alchemist, then the number of sectors is proof of their facilities. 

An outsider would understand Memory Partition as simply dividing one 'thought' into rooms, but that would be the limit of a strictly average alchemist. Superior alchemists may perform first−order tetrations of their 'thought' into rooms. As that is the case, then:

[Goal designated: Acquisition of Wishes|Demons.]

Hundreds of thousands of 'rooms' roared to life.

[Check FINISHED. With current variables and natural status of this world's progression|Pruning, the total number of branches|futures is estimated as 132,462,221.] 

[Check FINISHED. In order to maximize opportunity for victory|completion, variables must be solved|eradicated such that the upper bound is restricted|Pruned to an upper limit of 823,543, as per the calculative capacity of this unit|self.]

[Check FINISHED. Determination|eradication of variables has begun.]

Clothes, bone, and flesh split apart, and inside of the open wound, a 'door' awaited. An oppressive darkness, not endless, but without dimensions altogether. Within the depths of that ceaseless darkness, a thousand lights shined, and shapes began to emerge from that door. Like shadows streaking across the ground as the sun set below the sky, they flowed out from that tear as it sealed itself once again.

[Check FINISHED. Solving|eradication of variables must occur in such a way that opportunity for victory|completion within restricted|Pruned futures is maximized.]

[Check FINISHED. First-order means of accomplishing maximization is through empowering|evolving primary existence of this unit|self and secondary existence of Saber|Knife.]

[Check FINISHED. Process for empowerment|evolution of Saber|Knife to improve victory|completion parameters by 10.1% determined.]

The alchemist looked to her partner and smiled, gesturing for her to take a seat as she did the same.

"Now, to start things off, why don't we talk about that idol of yours? Tomoe, right?"

McCarran International Airport, Las Vegas

A limousine was strolling toward the center of the city. Inside, an old man was excitedly talking to the driver, signaling to a photo in his hand. "you should see her, she has 3 elemental affinities! 3! my little angel is going to be the star of her generation im sure of it"
The driver, a member of a branch family of the Valueleta, just smiled, already knowing this would go on the entire trip, it was well known that the old man in the backseat would take any excuse to talk about his granddaughter. If he didn't know the things the old man did in his youth he would fall for the trap of thinking he was just a senile citizen of age...and Kitorai knew that was the image he presented to the world, he knew very well.



"I know i told him to reserve me a good place for me to stay, but did it really have to be the most expensive luxury suit of them all... no matter, at least he had the decency of setting a bounded field and preparing the ritual, i swear that son of mine, worries too much about his old man.But enough about that, let's focus now"

And so Kitorai Valueleta slowly rised himself to his full height from the slouch position he often used, left his cane to the side and walked to his room, where he knew his Magnus Opus was resting, waiting to be worn. He stopped being the tranquil grandparent he often played the paper off, and he became Kitorai Valueleta, the magus that was once the Head of one of the most prestigous noble families around, and began his summoning for the servant that would accompany him for the rest of the War

30 Minutes later

Overseeing the city was a man on a black suit. When he moved a faint cling cling noise could be heard. "What do you think should be our first move Lancer?" His voice, normally one reflecting his age, slow and warm, changed into a sharp, cutting tone. His question was directed to the figure behind him, a young man, an otherwordly young man, too beautiful, even by the highest of standards, to be a normal human.

"Should we wait and see what this city can offer us, or should we move first and take the initiative." Kitorai mused. He wondered just what tests this war would present to him, what obstacles would it put on his way... he wondered if this creation of him would stand the strikes and be deemed worthy of defending his descendants... or would it break and kill him in the proccess, he wondered when should he put on the mask of the helpless grandfather and when he should act like the magus he was, he wondered this and much more while focusing his sights on the neon lights below, on the City of Sin that was his chosen battlefield this time around.

Little seems to have changed at first glance. In fact, it seemed rather familiar. Naturally not all deserts are the same, but the kind of aura they present? Well, the emperor of ancient Assyria knew it quite well. It was an overbearing heat, a sense that life must fight to live there. It was perfect. Perfect in the case of the demon king of ancient Assyria. His first response to this mortal coil?

He smirked. His lips pulled back, his eyes widened with a building glee. His fingers wrapped together in contemplation, and all who looked upon this man would know how he felt.

He loved it. He really, truly loved it. So many stories to tell. So much knowledge to mine. He wanted it. He loved it. He adored it. He would rule it...
"Thank you." said Ashurbanipal.




Ashurbanipal had a lot on his plate. The first task was to prepare his library. Perhaps it was the most important thing he could do. After all, the collection of knowledge was one of the most important aspects of war. Spies could cripple a nation before a king even stepped onto the battlefield, or a well kept library could contain the knowledge needed to tear down a wall. In fact, was it not the knowledge of prophecy that allowed for the destruction of Troy? Or prophecy that allowed for the destruction of Constantinople's mighty walls? The answer to all that... Was yes.

He was after all, a scholar. So while his master had been telling him all about Billy Elliot. Some recent story from the modern era, but in actuality it was more of a retelling of a story he already knew. History does repeat after all, and nothing new truly exists. The phrase "Steal like an Artist" came to mind. It was the different assembling of those pieces that made something stand out.

"Well, it is only right he should have gotten the role." Ashurbanipal said after a pause. "He clearly demonstrated his superiority in physical attributes, and in natural resolve. His ability to defeat another boy in physical combat is a sign of his great strength, but his ability to remain deeply invested in his pursuit is a sign of his mental resolve. No doubt the other boys in audition didn't stand a chance." Ashurbanipal said all this with his head in tablet. The Epic of Gilgamesh, which had been used as a catalyst to summon him.

He suspected his master might have attempted to use such a catalyst to summon Gilgamesh himself, as the story is very much about the king. The tablet though, was one that had been preserved in his library, and as such its existence in the modern world was a result of Ashurbanipal's own influence. Both he and Gilgamesh could make claim to this catalyst.

Either way, it was the first tablet he would be adding to his library.

His fingers glided over the walls, and he began to mutter. The magical pressure in the room was building, just like his master said it was. "My knowledge paves the way for the future. My collection of tomes is the key to the past. May all my works be made public, and the future and past shall forever last." The incantation was soft, but it didn't need to be grand. This was a library after all, why should one shout? The concepts were in place. The shelves, that might once have been filled with nick-naks, became cluttered with tablets. Wax writings, and scrolls of foreign origin. Works of divination, medicine, all such things were finding their spaces in the library. But... There was one more room. An important room that was not yet filled.

"The new world is indeed different." Ashurbanipal said, as he turned his eyes to Valentina. "It is certainly a glee to behold that my works have lived on, or at least the idea of a library has. The systems I set in place, and the knowledge I acquired have found good uses here. And perhaps, the people have discovered new concepts from the old. Building on what works after all was the sign of a smart ruler. Reworking what didn't work also had merits."

He walked past his master, and towards the unfortunate limo driver. He had asked for him to join them, and his presence in the new library was important. "Tell me, do we need him? As a Rider class servant, I can easily drive his vehicle with... Greater finesse than he." He patted one of the driver's cheeks, as if studying his flesh. "Yes, this is good. Summoner, please send that man through that door, over there." He pointed towards a door. The problem being that until a moment ago, that wall had been empty. But now, there was a door, ornate, but simple. Hardly something to notice.

"I shall demonstrate to you the full purpose of my library."

“Hooooh.. It is so much more than that..” The bronze-skinned man chuckled in response to the servant’s inquiry. Taking a bold step forward to match and then surpass the pace of the arched dyed in red. For a creature whose life was to be measured in centuries, not years, he certainly did not look the part. Even with his youth preserved, his sense of taste had certainly not endured if it was ever there. Clad in a flamboyant loose shirt, adorned with a pattern of colourful parrots, monkeys and butterflies frolicking amongst flowers, leafs and vines. A man of many contrasts when the entire range of colours was likely to be present on his shirt. His shorts seemed to match his shirt, seeming to be an extension of the print of his shirt. A cheap white sun visor obscured his forehead, while a pair of wide-rimmed sunglasses veiled his sickly yellow eyes.

The drag of his sandals marking his step before the ageless creature spun before Archer, spreading his arms wide as if to draw in his attention. “‘Tis only natural that you already enjoy yourself, for we stand upon the battlefield of the modern age. Your keen instinct is whispering hidden truths in moments that demanded years of mine to grasp.” And in an almost practiced way he spun to stand side by side with the servant, slinging an arm over Archer’s shoulder, leaning his head forward, lowering his voice as if to draw the heroic spirit in for a secret. “In this age, all men are alchemists, capable of transmuting blood into coin. Endowing it with their life and time. Sacrificing them to purchase hope, to acquire greater value.. To become more than what they were before.”

The ageless creature cocked his head, canting it while raising an eyebrow before humming with approval. “Of course.. My dear friend. Who would I be to deny one such as yourself the simple pleasures of being man. Reap the tastes from this land they call Paradise, and know the way of modern man.” Patting the servant on the back before withdrawing his arm. “No.. wait.” The humour of his voice seared away, replaced with a low and more grave tone. “We should go together, it is only proper to do so.” And just as quickly his voice returned to its usual calm but pleased tone.

Ahmicqui’s gaze rarely wandered from his red companion, seeming more tempered in comparison to Archer. The mark of a practiced city-dweller, so accustomed to its pace and sights that they grow invisible to the dweller. “There is honesty in this city, for all know the truth and yet many permit themselves to be blinded by the light. Yet it cannot be denied that this city will cease to be when the altars of its vaults run dry of wealth. To return to becoming a wasteland once more, just like the world will, once the soil has forgotten the taste of blood.”

“But it is as you say, as long the strong draw their kindred, the soil shall always remain damp.. And I welcome it. May we be given the opportunity to garden this land to linger a little longer. Yet let us not be too hasty, for there is much to consider... and courtesies to be exchanged.” He licked his lips, for the first time the ageless creature’s gaze did not linger on the man he holds as his companion.

His eyes narrowed, before a split second offered a hearty but still controlled burst of laughter at the servant’s inquiry. “You surely do not hold back.. Nevertheless, I shall indulge you.. Not with an answer, but an invitation.” Ahmicqui snickered wickedly while a grin lingered on his lips for a touch longer. “No, I do insist.. It is rare that I get to sit and eat with one who consumes the food of humans not out of compulsion.. But mere curiosity.” He finished with a pleasant lilt to his voice.

Ahmicqui made a show looking around the streets of the City of Sin, narrowing his eyes before exclaiming with an dramatized “Ah! Now that might just suit my purpose.” The place the master had chosen was not some upscale restaurant, or even some local establishment. Rather it was a typical brand burger joint, one they would have likely already had the chance of crossing a half dozen of its other local branch counterparts. In a matter of minutes, the servant returned with two plastic platters of the usual suspects, including a thick juicy burger. “You have seen, heard, felt and smelled the new world.. But you have yet to taste it. So indulge.. I do insist.”

Bright lights, loud music, the sounds of happy gambles and desperate losses. Lancer could hear them all, see them from above the penthouse suite of a room and stare down the ever-so clean glass window pane before him.

If he had a name for any of the brightest cities... this would have definitely been Bumba's kingdom moving forward into the era of Man but fate had other plans and like many beautiful cities of myth, are hidden underneath a sheet. However, Lancer could not smile, he can't smile. This place, despite its bright outlook, has a shadow of corruption within these buildings but that is to be expected. This isn't Bumba after all and Bumba was a kingdom of perfection.

"Are you sure we should enjoy the life and times of gamblers coming in and out of flashy buildings, Master? What if your son worries about the money you might spend." A joke, a joke that made him chuckle although it might not stifle a giggle from his master, nonetheless... the answer was obvious.

"I suppose we could do both. Blending in is a perfect way so as to not stand out awkwardly in a crowd. After all, who would believe an old man, excited at the prospect of getting sent here because his son won some big money or something along those lines, no?Perhaps they too, could be enjoying the high life here. We may never know. Of course that's my suggestion.

@Seirei No Hai

Kitorai Valueleta

"Don't be foolish, the Valueleta could pay off the debt off all the gamblers in this city and still have money left, and besides, i'm sure my son has more important things to worry about, like taking care of my descendant" The usual excitement that laced the voice of Kitorai when talking about her granddaughter was missing somehow, replaced with expectations.

He spun around (clink clink) and observed his servant, an honourable warrior of legends, a compassionate man... he may have to abandon the most vicious of his methods for the sake of this partnership, but this was to be expected when he decided to call on the help of heroes from the past, most of them where probably like this.

"An acceptable idea i suppose, i trust you can inform me if you see or feel something peculiar yes? after all, i'm just an old man enjoying the last years of his life!... it goes without saying Lancer, but i expect only the best out of you" He said with gravitas and started to walk toward the elevator situated in the hallways (clink clink), putting on a devil may care grin, donning yet another mask for the night up ahead, knowing his servant would be right behind him...or would he try to take the front? he was a king after all...it didn't matter to him that much to be perfectly honest, as long as he did his job right then it was fine by him.

"Gahaha! come now, and show me what you are made off!" An invitation both to his servant and to those people that he didn't meet yet, but that he knew would inevitable stand in his way, the City of Sin awaited them all with open arms.

@Kala

“Hohh.. Well then, I’m not one to say no to whatever’s put in-front of me." Sniffing every other second as they walked into the store, Archer seemed to relax and grin as he brandished his finger at the colorful menu. “You get to see what you get huh? Really, that’s real convenient. Still, just looking at it like that doesn’t tell you much.”

He shook his head before leaning back as they joined the line. Even peaking so he towered over the other individuals around them. Getting in their way and yet paying them no mind. His eyes focused on the spreads out on the tables around them. Sniffs came with each shift of his eyes as he looked over at the onion rings, shakes, sodas, alcoholic drinks and of course, burgers about.

“I smell a lot of things. Some of it… my brother probably wouldn’t be able to handle it with his weaker stomach. It’s very greasy, it’s interesting. Just how many of those things are cooking on those grills? It’s like they’re putting an entire cow there by the minute! You know? There’s a lotta sweet too, some sour. Mainly sweet… I can feel my eyes almost water from here too.”
Keen without being sensitive. Able to take in the world around him and understand it. Like a beast, like a man both. By the time they ordered he was getting a number of stares from various other patrons, even as drunkards and the elated skirt-chasers at the hems of Lady Fortune flooded in and out.

He picked out from the tray in Ahmicqui’s hands one of the greasy bundles of meat and sauces and crammed half of it in his mouth.

“MHh.. Ah.”

His grin grew larger as he shoved the rest of it in. “Tshg good. I like-” he interrupted himself to pick out a number of the fries peaking out to shove it into his mouth.
“Yeah, this is good. I’m ready for more.” he said without shame even as when they finally sat down he began to pick at the rest of the fries, perhaps taking a bit more time as he popped them in one by one this time. It wasn’t a sense of him conserving what was left with the amount of food he had beng depleted. It was a moment of leisure, of Archer simply enjoying it.

In other words he ate it how he wanted to even if that whim changed without care about how he would want to enjoy the meal as a whole. He sated the craving that panged in his stomach the moment it came.

“We only got the night right? Then let’s make the best of it.”

And so they ate.

---

Corndogs by the handful crammed into his mouth, the sticks poking out of his maw as the hint as to the nature of his bulging cheeks. Even then his lips were pursed around a thick straw digging into the ice cold slush of a blended alcoholic drink.

_{“Haven’t ya seen? MY Endurance is B, and I’m me. A drink or two won’t do anything-”}

Or so he said.

Regardless, he weaved and went, on instinct as he was led by also pushed for their path. He had a sense for the flow, going to shops that were easy to slip in, and also turned out to be what appealed well to his tastes. As a result. He had a massive bag that was filled with nothing but food, filling as quick as his mouth.. And emptying not so coincidentally, as quickly too..

That said he was doing more than just gorge himself. He was relaxed, hardly cautious as he focused solely on his enjoyment.

But there was no need to be cautious, for he trusted his body and he trusted himself. The moment danger… no, fun came, he would know and be prepared.

“Yo, master. What sort of guy do you think’ll come out first?”
He took a chipped off piece of wood he broke off from a tree in passing earlier. It was used as a toothpick, Archer cleaned out his teeth and chewed it down into a fine point and dart at the same time. Now, tossing it about in his hand and letting it twirl in the sky, he played with it a bit before he sent it flying with a burst of movement from his wrist. The javelin-like toothpick flew, roaring like a screaming bird as it soared to the neon lit sky and crashed into the replica of the Eiffel Tower. Metal whined and cried out as it bent, the lattice structure crumpling and bending. The tower did not snap, nor did it break. But the sound and the sight of the landmark going dark as its tip bent was noticeable for all in the strip. For those with keen sight and special attention to this fated night it was Archer's declaration of war.

SIGMUND
Centennial, Centennial Hills Hospital Rooftop

---

Footsteps echoed from behind the girl.

“They are strong tools,” The Servant called out. “But they are also only as good as whatever uses that little head of yours can devise for them.”

Berserker did not particularly dress the way an ancient hero would, perhaps due to his own preferences, but his scarred body must have seen many battles, and the sword at his side only reaffirmed such. But nothing quite compared to the presence he carried with him, that enveloped him like a well-worn cloak and was by itself proof of fact that he was inhuman.

He looked at the girl who had summoned him, and his bright eyes might as well have been those of a beast eyeing prey.

This was no average delinquent.

No, this man was clearly a super delinquent.

Stepping a bit closer, he ran a hand through his hair, glanced down at the city below and grinned — almost hungrily. His smile showed too many teeth.

“And of course, if you use them for the wrong thing, why, they might just get you slaughtered instead.”

The casual tone he’d used made it sound less like a threat, more like he was just stating an accepted fact. Of course, he left out who’d do the slaughtering if she messed up in that department, but honestly, there was no point in stating the obvious. He hoped the little girl would see that much.

“Speaking of slaughtering,” He bounced to a different topic concerningly quickly. “We should get right on with that. The Grail ain’t gonna fill itself and all that junk.”

Stepping to the edge of the rooftop, he kept his winning smile on his face, not even sparing a glance toward his Master.

“At least I’ll try to cross swords with most I can — see who’s a fun one and who isn’t. Intel gathering, you see? Aren’t I just great, taking the initiative on the job like this?”

Well, the way he’d worded it, it sounded less like work, more like he just wished to indulge. Then again, so what if he did? Results would be the same. Having fun while getting them just meant his mood wouldn’t worsen.

“I’ll be moving, you can follow in the hopes of some fun or you can stay here — or do whatever you want really. Ah, but—” He snapped his fingers, then directed his gaze and his smile back toward his Master. “Come to think of it, you dying would throw a wrench in the plans, so do make sure to avoid that, alright? Even if it means using one of those annoying things.

“If you die without my permission, I’ll kill you.”

How did that one work, again? Eh, not his problem. Perhaps that guy would’ve acted more compassionate.

...But Berserker was not that man anymore. He couldn’t be that man anymore. The pride and chivalry of a knight were lost on him. After all, he had maintained his rationality, but the wolf had simply eaten away at different things, even if what he wanted had stayed largely the same.

And this time, that situation would only end with his death.

Still, as he jumped off the roof and started making his way downtown, simply wandering in the hopes of finding a good fight, his smile did not diminish one bit.

“There’s kind of a simple joy in just being like this, you know? In just throwing away everything unnecessary. You should give it a try, Master, you might come to enjoy it.”

He just hoped he didn’t run into annoying insects while looking for interesting things. Those always spoiled the fun.

@GreenGoat

"...they're not being very careful, hm? Is it confidence, or overconfidence?"

A low murmur slipped past the alchemist's lips, a flicker of confusion crossing her face for all of a few seconds, before she turned her attention back to her contracted partner. Bright red, shaped like a person, flowing out through the room- yes, in the end, it was perfect. "Frustrations? No, no, we're in a very good place right about now. To be honest with you, I was worried that I'd dredge out someone too powerful with that little ritual. If that was the case, I actually would have been a little bit annoyed." Declaring such an absurd statement as if nothing was wrong with it, she raised her arms above her head, stretching for a couple of seconds. Shadows bubbled up and kneaded in the corners of the room, something forming within their depths.

"Let me address both of your concerns by explaining myself a bit. My organization exists to prevent the end of the world. Every second of every day, there are countless threats that could end it- we calculate the future, and engineer solutions to stop them. So, you don't need to worry about me making you go after civilians or anything like that. My role as an alchemist|program is to save people, not to harm them." As she spoke, two words seemed to somehow overlap over one another for a split-second, as if both words were leaving her lips at the same time. A brief flicker of melancholy crossed her face a moment later, eyes straying over to the pincushion she'd prodded a few times since their arrival here. "There have been members of Atlas who went mad and forgot that. Those of us he|you left behind will be better."

Without warning, that weight was wiped off of her face, the same placid smile washing back over it as she took a small step back. "But anyway, yes, that's perfect. Saves me some time in having to calculate the more refined shape of that admiration."

[Become]

[Legacy]

[Dedicate]

Shadows rose up and streamed together, flowing like water into the alchemist's hands. Her body did not move, but that inky substance acted as if they were, shaping and reforming itself, growing more cohesive, defining its edges out.

"You see, in the end, I'm not bothered about the Holy Grail. Things like these are a dime a dozen, this one just had an especially stellar marketing campaign and has a bigger pot to take from at the end. Even if this was able to reach 「 」, it wouldn't be much of my concern- that's not something I care about. That's not to say I wouldn't take it if we got it, but just to say that I don't plan on overextending for it." Her eyes lidded shut, a low sigh leaving her as her mind extended outwards. In order to facilitate the current task for a reasonable time span, the calculative capacity allocated was rather significant. "The problem there is that we have a conflict of interest. That's not great- as partners, we need to be aligned, which is where my magecraft comes in. I'm here to acquire 'wishes'. The wishes of the civilians here, desperate for wealth and power. The wishes of the Second Owner, risking everything for an unknown goal. The wishes of the great magi here who chose to gamble their lives, the wishes of the Heroic Spirits who have deigned to be called back into the world, I will witness all of them so that I can prevent that far-off future I witnessed."

Those shadows froze. Umbra became penumbra, and penumbra became matter. Something that is possible, but not in the material world. Something that is impossible in any world, and yet materializes. When her eyes reopened, there was a new glint in them- not predatory, but playful. The excitement of a child, tearing the wrapping paper from a present.

"So, to align us, I will grant|create your wish myself. You will fight, and struggle, and burn up to your heart's content. You will gain a might and legacy that lets you stand as her equal in the Throne, and just as this will be your victory, it will be mine."

"Ah, this is going to be fun."

@KatKook

She concluded her stitching of a small patchwork humanoid, looking vaguely human but with two button eyes it was very obviously little more than a creation of her own. She delivered a small kiss on its forehead as she listened intently to Rider, enjoying his rendition of Billy Elliot, a movie she had watched during her travels as she debated the best way to bring about what she wanted in the world.

"Your impact on the world certainly has lasted, yet humans continue they seek out more and more, one can only wonder what it would be like if knowledge was something they didn't care for, without knowledge what would the world be like today.. She trailed off slightly, eyes going vacant as she gazed off before snapping back to attention, her neck moving too quick and sudden for a human as she turned back to her Servant.

The term Servant was a vague term she cared not for. They were partners and allies, not master and servant. Even when she created new beings to help her, her own familiars, she gave them enough sentience to be able to act up against her if they so chose to. But, they had never taken that option before, so why take it now. In truth, Valentina did not intend to summon Ashurbanipal, but instead another figure from the Epic of Gilgamesh.

Made from a clay doll, Enkidu would have been her first choice, her Creator having told the story to her once, she became enamoured with the ideas of others like her. Having him as an Ally in this war would have been a chance to know another of her Kin, but gazing upon the master of knowledge and torture, she knew that the Grail had chosen someone far more compatible with her. The marionette dropped her patchwork friend to the floor and he scuttled off down the corridor outside of the suite.

The walls changed around her, the old world merging into the new world, Rider's power allowing such a union to take place. Valentina had suspected as much power from the Master of the Library, and she knew too well of the attention that they might attract. She knew little of anyone else involved, Clocktower, Church? They both sounded likely. Her presence had been kept to a minimum as she knew she would be a threat if her presence was known.

Snapping to attention, she clapped her hands together, a noticeable wooden noise could be heard as she did, and the limo driver began to walk, his legs acting almost separate from his body as she directed him to the door. Stepping through, Valentina watched the poor man go to his doom, but deep down, she couldn't care less. Casualties in this war were, if anything, a welcome bonus. "The origin of knowledge is at your disposal it appears. The other Servants have not made any moves yet, but my friends will do my recon. Would you prefer me at your side my King, or shall I stay in this fortress, it is quite delightful here, much more ornate than my Sicilian Workshop, although, I doubt most of Europe were places you frequented"

She put a hand to her face as she began to slide into a dance again, her body moving naturally into a simple dance, that could very easily turn into a ritual. "This library will bring them to us if we make ourselves obvious, perhaps they would feel most welcome here.."

---

Ahmicqui paid little thought as he financed Archer’s banquet from one stand to the other. Catching on quickly enough to purchase anything in bulk before the hulking servant could make his servant known. At times making recommendations for curiosities that Archer had yet to experience. The ageless creature tried to maintain some knowledge of human society, even if it had changed so much from the time he had been human.

“Even if your endurance fails, no doubt the rush of battle will clear your head soon enough.”

Though he questioned if the servant could even get drunk, but that thought was left unspoken for the time being. Ahmicqui made a study of the City of Sin, this would perhaps be the last day in which its flow would remain as it always had been, soon the war would no doubt come to alter it, influence it and eventually redirect it.

He raised an eyebrow at Archer’s question, chuckling softly with a hint of amusement as he contemplated the question with an audible hum. “Who can say what whims we are subjected to in the capital of fortune, but I would say one endowed with speed.. They should be the first to reach us should fortune remain impartial.” He said, leaving his personal bet on what would be considered fortunate unknown.

The Dead Apostle had to raise his sunglasses for a moment, looking with disbelief at the bent shape of the metal tower. Yet that quickly transformed into something of amusement as he laughed with joy. “Now! You are already proving to be an interesting one. Archer.” With a skip to his step, he started to make his way to the twisted spire, to the very foot of it. For the first time in a long time he felt something, excitement, anticipation and a hint of dread. What would they be like, would they be worthy of love? First things first however.

“Can I have one of those cups? Yes, that one.. Give me the biggest one you got.”

Turning away from the sidewalk bar built in the very foot of the metal tower, he offered Archer a plastic cup shaped in the likeness of the tower, its interior hollowed out to contain a milky beverage that was in equal parts sweet and strong with the scent of alcohol. “A memento, for a promising start.” The master flashed a wide grin at the servant before taking a seat at one of the tables.

Perhaps someone would come if they waited long enough, and if none came, that too would serve him in its own way, if not a disappointing one.

Comfortably situated shotgun to the Knight-Captain, an otherworldly figure half opened her eyes. Caster had been sleeping up until the moment she'd been directly addressed about the war, on account of the good napping weather.

"Yes." Caster responded to her Masters query within a few moments, half yawning all the while. After a second or two, she adjusted her position and went back to sleeping. For her Masters sake, Caster had spared the time to give a proper affirmative(which in itself really didn't answer Kamila's question in the first place). Knowing that, Caster mentally informed her Master of her chosen destination via their shared link- which required far less effort than talking. Perhaps Caster would have to train one of the many city pigeons following their car as messengers, but a cellphone could perhaps be easier.

With that great task settled, she seemingly went back to dozing. Or at least, that's what seemed to be the case outwardly. It was true that Caster was rather tired and had been lethargic since the onset of her summon. But in this specific instance, she had expanded her senses through the earth to 'feel' something. It wasn't the various Masters and Servants plodding through the war- though she had detected many of those already.

No, what had caught her interest was a novel abnormality within the flow of the land. A certain caressing of rivers- a partly artificial oasis within this desert of processed rock, steel, plastic, and man-flesh.

Out of what she had 'seen' so far, this had been the singular thing to catch Casters interest. And so, they would be headed to the Las Vegas strip where Caster could get a better 'look'. Or, rather, it was something she thought necessary to see with her own eyes.

. . .Of course, what had happened earlier hadn't gone unnoticed. Someone had been watching the city from afar, and so Caster had already taken the necessary precautions for both herself and Master. Familiars. Long distance detection. Divination. Caster prepared counter measures for each, so as to avoid scrying attempts.

However, she didn't mask her presence as a Servant. That was to say, it was still possible to detect 'a Servant is nearby!' if another Ghost Liner came close to her. If there was an expression that summed up why she did that, it'd probably be something along the lines of a ever so slight smirk.

But for the moment, the pair had arrived at Casters chosen destination, the Bellagio Hotel. Within moments Caster had hopped out of the car, not even bothering to stretch after the ride. Within moments she was striding toward the Hotel, her parasol protecting her from the Moons hateful rays.

Though Caster didn't know it, her Masters rapid pace meant they arrived just in time.

---

The Las Vegas strip was an impressive place in terms of architecture, if nothing else. Aside from a few exceptions she had spotted on the drive(Mostly buildings with landmarks reminiscent to the lands she had visited in her travels), little present held her interest.

The exception was the beautiful Bellagio Fountain Show occurring directly ahead of her, situated on a lake within the city. Caster began to pick up the pace as the show came into view, collapsing her parasol and twirling it at her side almost carelessly. Though there was a crowd of onlookers, they all awkwardly maintained a significant distance from Caster- as if some sort of invisible boundary line had been drawn between herself and the 'faceless masses'.

Finally, she arrived at the perfect spot for fountain viewing- but she didn't lose herself in the show. Not just yet.

Rather she turned her head to speak with the Master for a moment, before returning her attentions to the fountain.

"My, my. For a moment, I nearly forgot about the sacrificial ritual we were in." Though her tone expressed a desire to connect palm with face, it was hard to tell if she was being genuine. Perhaps her smirk told a different tale, a darker context to what was about to happen.

She outstretched her hand and pointed at the streams of water shooting up into the night sky. The air became tense, as if heralding some great disturbance.

And then, it happened.

The parasol she was whirling in circles contacted her arm after she started twirling it ahead of herself. And, for a brief moment difficult for even her Master to notice, the reflection of polished metal became visible within the umbrellas many folds.

Casters arm went flying off, separated from her body as if from some hidden blade. It went flying for a foot or two, but stopped in the air as if suspended by invisible rope- or perhaps something like string. With each passing moment, the strings seemed to be pulled taunter and taunter around the lost limb.

A fountain of green-black ichor erupted from Casters arm stump with almost cartoonish violence and intensity. The crowd all about master and servant seemingly acknowledged not a thing, and remained at distance.

Caster stopped twirling her umbrella, not acknowledging her own injury in any way. A puddle of something approximating blood began to form at her feet, though not a single drop reached herself or the Master. After a moment, she started leaning on her Umbrella in much the manner one may use a cane- though still, she did not move from her spot.

Instead she looked onward, toward the sight ahead of her- the numerous fountains of water exploding from the nearby lake. Incorporating lights, even illusions were being created using the hotel itself as a backdrop. The scale was astounding, and it was a beautiful sight that seemed to fascinate Caster. Finally, her demeanor changed, as if the lethargy she carried was temporarily dispelled. However, even going beyond the beauty of the show.

For Caster, she had attained a form of watching that not only used her eyes, but also far greater senses. To Triptolemus, the 'flow' and 'movement' of the waters caress contributed to the show in such ways human beings could never understand, never comprehend. This was the power of one who could feel through the land, no, the Earth, itself.

After a minute or two of viewing, she spoke her mind.

"Water is the element most closely associated with life, was it? That much is truth at least. Why is that? Knight-Captain." Caster spoke in a soft, almost teasing voice- addressing the one and only person within many meters who could acknowledge her presence. It was more like she was poking fun at the paradigms of modern magi, though.

However, it seemed she remembered something-

"You nearly let me forget, Master." Stepping forward, the hidden blade in her parasol was revealed once more. In an action far too quick for any normal human to follow, her suspended arm was sliced into at least eighteen pieces. After that, she turned around so she could hear her masters response face to face.

Though a single finger dropped to the ground with an inaudible thud, the rest of her arm pieces did not follow the rules of gravity. In fact, they began to fade away into some sort of dust like substance. A Magus looking on from a distance may call it ether being expelled from a degrading spiritual body, but in actuality it was some sort of pollen.

In that moment various birds (pigeons) began to swoop into the pollen one at a time, flying off into a myriad of directions.

Caster smiled at her Master, waiting patiently. The beautiful fountain show continued behind her, as if to accentuate the question.

. . . .She was still bleeding. A very sizable pool of ichor was actually starting to form around her feet.

@Kala @red alice

“They’re taking a while aren’t they? Well, we need something to go with that drink… Ah, but isn’t that a bit off model now?” He snickered, both at the joke, and also at the current state of the tower. “But hmm.. If there’s anything to add.. Well, you’ve shown me the modern, how about I show you something in return?”

The eyes of Archer found themselves trailing the various birds that took flight in the strip. Normally such a thing was hardly abnormal but..

Something about them felt off, something about them felt right.

He flicked a fallen chip at one of them. The powerful flat-circle smashed into the side of its face, rattling its brain and stunning it to bring it to the ground. Measured power to not demolish its structure and preserve its body for harvest.

With a grin he swiftly pounced, looking more like a beast in the form of a man as he chased down his prey. Even as he moved his hand flicked out, grabbing what he could to pelt down a number of other similar birds. Soon enough, he had managed to collect a full roster of pidgeons. Totting them in one hand as he returned. The whirlwind of motion he left in his wake was one that was hardly subtle, but he managed to surprisingly not bowl the many people around or destroy anything. Still, subtle was not really the word for what he was being and if the two didn’t have any glances before, the crowds that could firmly get a look at the pidgeon-hunting man bringing forth his spoils surely were keeping an eye on them by now.

“Hey, master. There’s something up with these so I dunno if you want to eat them? Oh me however? Again, nothing to it. It’s not as bad as some dirty water even. Well, maybe it's a poor gift but whatever it's what we got. It's what we eat."

Water flowed, and so did people. The blood that pulsed through life drove the body, and likewise the rivers that ran across the lands were the gathering points for civilization and beasts both. At bodies of water did order congregate, natural or societal. In a sense it was order and reason, and in that flow, held art as well.

But what Archer brought, setting it up on the table of all things, managing to have enough leaves and plucked up discarded wrappings, tickets and paper goods, was fodder and tinder for a roasting fire. A nail running across the bald patch showed that he needed no real knife. With his bare hands he twisted, pulled, sliced and skinned it.

All in all, they soon began to sizzle and roast. Put on the fire, impaled by sticks he deemed clean enough, whistling without a care of the stares around him or the pollen that had latched onto them.

“Hmm, I don’t think this is something common to this area however. Especially a bunch like these? I dunno if modern humans could handle this. I don’t know what’d happen but something would. Something is here.. Some sort of plant stuff. Maybe they’d be turned into plants too, or maybe they’ll die.. Or maybe they’ll be sneezing for the next few days nonstop?”

He speculated as he took one off the fire. As he spoke of death he began to put some ketchup leftover from their first meal of the night, those burgers on.

“Ah well, maybe it’s one of the other masters or something? Nice of them to offer a snack but they should come out already… Or are they saying that they haven’t seen me?”

His cheeks lifted, his eyes narrowed. The first hint of dark aggression, of annoyance and… perhaps something more flashing on Archer’s face.

And then he shoved an entire roasted bird into his mouth.

“Ah. Yep, it works pretty well. This ketchup is pretty handy, really!... Mhm. If no one comes in a bit we'll open up that cup. Maybe I'll start shooting and make a mess. Sometimes you need to start a fire in the forest to get the herds running out. We'll just shoot anything that might be a hideaway. If it's a matter of destroying just a room in a... what're they called? Hotels? Leave it to me.

@Yukitamas @Kala



"Even down here, the brightness of this city is unbelievable." Having to take an uber on the way out here. Lancer had been dressed in a sleek blue suit that glitters when flashed with lights. Some female pedestrians turning heads to see his immortal beauty and gossip among themselves... not like he cares for none could be as beautiful as his advisor, Minian or perhaps there could be? He has yet to see and this City has lots to offer.

Of course he had to play the caretaker of the old man, walking beside him and making sure he doesn't fall. "Sir." A little deviation since he felt something off as both of them stopped in front of the leaning tower of Eiffel. There were already some people gathered around taking photos of the embarrassing tilt at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Normally, one would think it was odd or that the material in this fake tower was wearing off due to lazy maintenance but in this case, it was the work of inhuman strength much like his own.

"What a peculiar tilt. You'd think if some of those people were to attract visitors, they might want to go and fix that up." He points upwards at the unusual tilt and looked around to see if they were any odd reactions and so far, there are none. Well maybe a couple of birds flew by but... they were awfully unusual too.

"I'm sure you'd want to get out of here as soon as possible sir in case that part starts breaking off. I hear you like drinks, perhaps there's a nearby bar around here." Lancer continued to play the part of the formal caretaker, giving the old man a pat on the shoulder.