Fate - Stay - Write - Go! [Fate/Stay Night AU/SI]

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Prologue

The fire was hot. I admit, considering that single thought the apex of all thoughts...
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Prologue
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    • shadenight123

    shadenight123

    Ten books I have published. More await!
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    Prologue

    The fire was hot. I admit, considering that single thought the apex of all thoughts on obviousness, Captain Obvious would probably name me his trustworthy sidekick 'Sarcastic Statement'. I didn't really think about that though, because all things said, fire was hot, and I was in that devastating heat trudging along on tiny, child-like limbs. One moment I was crossing the road, and the next second I avoided a falling building's debris that came crashing down a few steps away from me, lifting me off the ground and sending me to crash against a molten slab of iron that was scorching hot to the touch.

    My fingers clutched the dirt, and my clothes were smoking. Dirty looking crimson blood slowly slithered across, pulsing with the energy of a thousand and more curses, lingering on the earth with the desire to consume.

    I had to get away.

    Charred husks with burning appendages screamed their last across shattered streets and melted stone, and my eyes averted their gaze from the grisly spectacle immediately, switching to the most amazing vision of my feet taking step after step away from the carnage.

    The screams were ignored. Everything that was not my feet was ignored. It was erased from existence. It was denied by my mind.

    I just wanted to survive. I would have been fine with surviving, not even living. I would have happily agreed to a life of pain, just as long as it meant I'd still live at the end of the day. The screams finally died out, or maybe my ears grew so accustomed to them that I could no longer hear the sound of the dying -the dead do not scream after all, they are always silent.

    Deep down, I knew that not feeling fatigue meant I was a step away from falling down, never to stand back up. However, I had to move. If I remained there, the smoke, the blood, the fire or something else would kill me.

    In the end, it was only selfishness. I desired to live, I wanted to live, I demanded to live and, in the end, I lived.

    Even if just for one more step, even if just for one more quick breath, one more heartbeat, one more blinking of tired eyes with a blurred vision -my glasses had broken, and I couldn't see much on my left- I still hung on to that tiny filament of life that refused to whimper out in the night.

    "Y-You're alive," my ears picked up a voice, a throaty, clearly male voice. I would have liked it if such a voice had been directed at me. It would have meant that I could finally fall down on the ground and let the owner of the voice pick me up and carry me away. Unfortunately, it wasn't directed at me. I had to walk a few more steps, grit my teeth through the haze, and finally turn a corner where I saw a dark-haired man clutch a kid to his chest, crying tears of relief.

    "S..." I hissed out, my throat half-cracked. I took a step, and the man heard -even among the crackling flames- and he looked up and actually gasped once more in relief. "Sh..." I could only hiss.

    Then, I fell down face first.

    I could finally rest.

    AN: We're going to have so much fun.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Hmm. Seems Shade has reincarnated into FSN during the ending of F/Z, and somehow stumbled across Kiritsugu and Shirou with his last bit of strength. I await seeing whether he returns from sleep sane, as well as whether he retains any knowledge of the story he possesses.

    You have played the visual novel, right Shade?
     
    Chapter One
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    • Chapter One

    "Wake up."

    The commanding voice begets obeisance from above my bed sheets. I understand that the command is absolute, forged in the steel of a thousand battles for supremacy, of a thousand orders that must be obeyed, of a thunderous and unquestionable purpose and principle that has me caught red-handed each single time I try to avoid it. My answer is, of course, absolutely non-committal.

    I groan.

    "Wake. Up."

    The voice insists, and in its insistence, I can feel the tone start to move and shift. I turn around, and keep my eyes closed. There is a loud sigh, a calm walking out with the sliding of the door, and an even calmer return.

    "You will be late if you don't wake up now."

    I yawn and blink away the tiredness, a half-amused smile on my face. The figure in front of me is shaking from ill-contained nervousness at the sheer thought of being late, which is a nice positive plus in my head.

    Emiya Shiro was already wearing the school's uniform, the skirt covering her legs all the way to the knees. She was on the verge of tears -tears of frustration, of course, but tears all the same.

    "Go on ahead," I mumbled, "I'll swing by in the second period."

    "You're never going to graduate if you keep this up," Shiro said. "I left you breakfast on the table -remember to put the dishes in the sink!" and then she hurried off.

    When I was just a little boy, I thought that arriving punctual was the key to success, to making a good impression, and was also quite the polite thing to do. This all changed the day the Fire Nation attacked. More like, it all changed the day the Fire attacked and burned everything in the city, killing off everyone but Shiro and I.

    One might suspect it already, but let me clear up the misunderstanding immediately. I am not called 'Kuro', nor 'Hikage'. I actually have a very normal name. Even though my 'sister' is called Shiro -and not Shirou- which means 'White', but also 'Castle' -and she makes it a point of clearing up the misunderstanding herself- I have the name Kagayaku.

    It is a terrible name when you consider that my 'sister' had the meaning of 'White' if you squint your eyes well enough. My name can mean a lot of things -as if common for Japanese people and their silly tongue. 'Shine', 'Twinkle', 'Burn', are the meanings I remember. I have had my fair share of trouble at school being called the 'Brilliance' of the 'White Brilliant Duo'.

    Shiro is a good girl, honest, hardworking, the apple in the eye of her club.

    I am the brains. Well, I do have the unfair advantage of having had an adult life before, which means that no matter how serious the curriculum is, it's only about stuff I've already done, and can easily recall or study with relative ease.

    Not so for Japanese literature, but again, it's Japanese literature. I like literature. The moment I learned how to read and write in the tongue, it was done. I could no longer be held back. I emerged like a brilliant butterfly out of the cocoon and shone- yes, yes, that's the problem with my name. I've heard all of these and worst.

    You just don't know how many puns there are on the meaning of your name until, well, you end up with a name that bears itself to the very nature of puns.

    I sat down groggily at the kitchen table. I would never understand, nor wish to, the nature of Japanese breakfasts. Why do you need to wake up at six to start cooking food, to have a breakfast ready at seven and a home-made boxed lunch for midday?

    "Where have all the good coffee cups gone, and where are all the gods of breakfast known as 'croissants'? Where's the sweet, sweet coffee, to face the rising odds? Isn't there a god-blessed drink, within a fiery pot?" I hummed as I used my fingers to grip a piece of sticky rice, dip it in the sauce, and eat it while I secretly looked around to ensure Shiro was out and about.

    Apparently, a young, growing man should not drink coffee.

    I knelt and opened the sink, pushing aside the cardboard boxes to reveal my glorious coffee pot, and my shining, brilliant stash of coffee. With the expertise of decades, I prepared myself a pot and finished eating the breakfast, before grabbing the cup filled to the brim with the holy substance, and hiding back everything else, so as to preserve it for the next morning.

    I exhaled in relief as I drank, watching the peaceful morning go by, the clouds lazily drifting in the sky, and the sun rising up. I had no desire to waste time in school. Kiritsugu had left some money before his death, and both Shiro and I worked part-time -and Fujimura Taiga was our 'guardian', and somehow that meant cheap prices in the market due to the Taiga group controlling the area.

    Although, as the proverb goes 'He who has the job he loves, works not a single day of his life'.

    The phone rang, and I allowed it to ring. I knew this was Taiga, phoning to warn me -and threaten me, and scream at me in her usual, worried tone about my future, and head-lock me, and beat my ass in kendo, and so on and so on- that I was going to be late for the second period too if I didn't move.

    I had no intention of going to school, but I couldn't ditch it either.

    Seriously, get a teenager out in the streets of Italy during school, and not a policeman will say a word to him. Get a single Japanese student out during school hours, and you'll have to run away from a pursuing patrol. I understand that education is a serious thing, but playing hooky shouldn't be treated as if you're an escapee from Alcatraz.

    So I had to stay indoors, which suited me just fine.

    I had shouldered the wish of a dying man in the place of Shiro. I had taken care of the pain, and the despair, and I had consoled the inconsolable, swearing salvation where I had no right to. I did not promise it lightly, nor did I lie lightly. It was my way.

    It was similar to Shirou's way of being a Hero of Justice, no matter the cost to himself. A lie said for a good cause was worth more than a hundred evil truths. And while lies could turn into reality with enough hard work, the opposite was not true.

    I did not allow him to lie to me, nor did I allow him to sabotage my knowledge in magecraft. It was obvious he wondered why I knew. Obvious again was the lie that I would do the same in his place, but that would be folly. He accepted it, because he knew the truth would be hard to pry from me, and he had no intention of wasting time.

    And if it gave him misery to teach another his skills, then it fulfilled the curse cast on him. He did die, because that was impossible to deny, but he died later, he died better off, he died despairing, but his despair tied to having given his knowledge to someone that should have had to bear it. He died thinking he had given his knowledge to an innocent child, too young to know everything there was of evil about the world.

    I did not correct him, for if I did, then it would have all been for naught.

    I taught Shiro the skills she was supposed to have -because she asked, because I would not deny her the role she had, because I knew that in the end, I could control little of a battlefield that was ever-changing.

    I prepared, and waited. Shiro was a good girl, a good student, and had a bright future ahead of her.

    I had no such compulsions, and no such desires. I was selfish, and uncaring of most. I cared little, and what little I had could be snuffed out with ease. I had shouldered the sins, and harbored the pain. It was now the time to return it a hundredfold.

    The Holy Grail War was about to start again. Soon, the servants would be summoned. I had to wait -to ensure Saber, to ensure the right servant, the right situation, the right character and the right decisions. I could not risk it. My nature was not Shirou's, nor was it Shiro. With my luck, it could be a Caster, or a Berserker, or worst of all, Avenger.

    I could not risk it. I would not risk it.

    Thus, I waited.

    I waited for the sun to glow orange, and the packages to arrive, and I hoped that Taiga would not ask her grandfather why his men had new weapons in place of old, or where the old ones had gone.

    I had not trained a lifetime, and I was no Spellcaster worthy of notice. I needed glasses to see, and my shots were average at best.

    I had knowledge though, and if one knew himself, and his enemy, then he could win all battles.

    I sighed as I heard the tell-tale sound of a bike's brakes, a very familiar sound. "I know you're in here!" Taiga exclaimed, as she barged right into my workshop, sliding the door open. She looked at me, her expression hard and stricken with worry, and then she looked at what I held in my hands.

    It was a Walther WA Two-Thousand, Kiritsugu's weapon. It was a 'fake' weapon -that was what Taiga thought, and I did not correct her when she said that it looked so real it clearly had to be false.

    "I told you a hundred times! School's important!" Taiga huffed, both hands to her sides. "You'll make Shiro worry, you stupid brother!"

    I raised an eyebrow. "I can always be your househusband when I grow up," I replied.

    Taiga bristled. "Are you saying I can't get married and will have to marry you out of pity when you're legal, you pipsqueak?"

    It was the usual. I placed the weapon down after disassembling it -assemble, disassemble, assemble, disassemble. Do it in less than five minutes. Do it with your eyes closed. Do it. There is no try.

    "Why not? You are probably looking at cats and giving them the names of your future children already."

    "I am most definitely not," Taiga said, eyes narrow. "You've been cooped here all day?" she asked, entering the workshop and looking around. I kept the place ordered and pristine, if beneath a fake facade of chaos. Well, not really 'fake' per se, but 'fake' enough to make it look -at a first look- disorganized.

    There was order within the chaos. It was, admittedly, my brand of order.

    "Well?" Taiga asked, as I finished cleaning up. "All day in here?"

    "I made a break for lunch," I replied. "Shiro will be home late today. She has club activities."

    "You resemble Kiritsugu so much," Taiga murmured, "and that is why I'm here. We need to have a bit of life counseling."

    "I'm not very good as a marriage adviser, Taiga," I replied, earning myself a glare from her. I should have said 'Big Sister Taiga', but even now, it was hard to use the proper attachments. They were a key to prove one's respect for another, and belonged to a hierarchy and a social stratification of a society that should have by now long modernized into one of hidden truths and bold lies.

    You don't need to add the '-san' to be polite to an older person. That is because even if you add the '-san' and think ill of the person, you are scorning her even though you are grammatically polite to her. Better to be blunt, and let the tone decide whether you are polite or not, rather than a constructed word to outright state a bold lie.

    Shamelessly using words like that, thinking they have any value when in fact they have none, it's something despicable, and hypocrite.

    "This concerns you, and your future," Taiga said. "You have to think about it now, or it will be too late."

    I already had. I had but one future ahead of me, one that could belong only to someone like me. A false human born of lies.
    So I gave my answer, as kindly as I could. "I want to make Shiro happy."
    So I gave my answer, as politely as I could. "I want to become an English teacher, just like you."
    So I gave my answer, with a bit of pride in it. "I want to make Kiritsugu proud."
    It was just another lie. One that could become truth, or could remain a lie.

    It was my life after all. I had lied on my age, my name, my nationality, my existence and everything else. I had lied because I was not of this world, so anything I was, anything I appeared as, that was my lie. It was a lie built for the purpose of becoming a truth, but at the moment, it was still a lie.

    The best stories were nothing short than lies that could turn things impossible to believe in real, and was that not the definition of a lie? To make others believe in things that were not real?
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Interesting. We've gone the genderbent Shirou route, but this version of Shirou is actually a Shiro and presumably decent magus. Or at least not using the silly 'turn nerves into circuits' thing canon Shirou performed on himself. We've also got a conniving Shade who knows magic and seems to be preparing for the war by obtaining summon catalyst, and perhaps arming the local mafia to combat enemy Servant.

    I'll admit, I'm quite curious as to what the next chapter shall entail. Will we have a new servant, different from Arturia? Perhaps the male King Arthur from our legends instead? Would this Shiro have a Counter Guardian counterpart in EMIYA, or would her different life be enough of a change to negate that fact? I await Shade's answers.
     
    Is Taiga going to develop from a Comedic Character to a Blood Knight wielding Tora Shinai?
     
    Watched. Now I'm wondering if he gets a reality marble based on lying, and making that lie reality.
    "You see, the second you stepped through that door, you were stabbed 37 times in the chest."
     
    I love that Shadenight is willing to use guns. Its what liked about Kiritsugu's fighting style, its practical. Why do magi hate guns, its makes things easier in a life or death fight. Is it some honor thing?
     
    Chapter Two
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    • Chapter Two

    I was not a bad cook, but Shiro was better. Shiro was better at a lot of things, and really, should have received all the praise in the world. Whereas I had natural talent and a lie to bolster my strengths, she had nothing but hard work, and a desire to improve and thrive even in the ugliest of situations.

    I might have learned how to work at a counter in less time than Shiro, but Shiro had kept practicing until her work had become perfect and flawless, while mine had always been 'good', but never 'excellent'. I saw no reason to strive for it. It was a job, and it was a job done well enough to be considered good.

    Was there any purpose in doing it even better? Anything beyond a gratification that would soon pass and disappear, becoming 'obvious' and 'the average' with enough time?

    Excellency is a one-time thing, in my opinion. You can keep striving to be excellent, but failures will bring forth scorn and despising remarks. Being average with ease, without having to work hard for it, will give you a buffer zone to show off your excellency in case of praises, and as one-time things, they will allow you to always be considered the best, even when by all circumstances, you should not be.

    My line of thought was not apparently the one Taiga liked. "Just because it's easy for you, doesn't mean you shouldn't improve it. Right now, I am sure I have more knowledge of the English language than you. The grammar, the structure, you need to be able to know that to teach it to kids."

    "Just because it was hard for you," I replied. "Doesn't mean it has to be the same for me."

    "That is not what I meant," Taiga said. "Man, when Shiro's home she worries about you, and when she isn't, I can't even get a word in."

    "My sister worries too much," I admitted with a nod. "How is she doing?"

    "As her guardian, I couldn't be prouder," Taiga said. She took a sip of hot tea, and then waited, her eyes settled on me. "But she is not the only one Kiritsugu entrusted to me."

    I grimaced as I took a sip of my tea. Taiga had green tea, and I had Earl Grey. I could not stand the bitterness of Japanese tea, and the moment I found a store that sold it, I hid a stash of it in the house. 'Tea' was acceptable, while 'Coffee' was not. Another prejudice I had no power to destroy.

    "I don't need help," I said, and immediately regretted saying that sentence. 'I don't need help' does not work on people who sincerely wish to help. It works on those who say the sentence out of obligation, or fake kindness, but not with people who really want to help. Those who want to help, they will help you even if you're against it, even if you refuse, or fight them.

    "I know Shiro took the loss of your father hard," Taiga began, "But he was your father too. I feel you are hiding your pain because it would make Shiro worry, but you don't have to. You don't have to shoulder the responsibilities of a guardian for Shiro, or you'll start making me feel bad for coming over."

    "You have to justify eating here, don't you?" I remarked dryly.

    Taiga smiled brightly, and nodded as she spoke, "Exactly! Wait. No, not like that!" She glared at me for a bit, but without any heat. Finally, she sighed. "You have to let us in. If not me, at least Shiro deserves it. She puts up with you enough."

    "You are already inside the house," I said. "Is that not enough?"

    "You know what I'm referring to," Taiga said.

    I knew, of course. It was because I knew that I did my best to ignore it. It was because I knew that they knew I was hiding something that I acted dense enough to force her to pry the words out of her, and then mine, mouth. Unfortunately, Taiga cared about Shiro and me enough that she would. If to find out the truth she had to walk on raking coals, she would with us on the line. She was a good woman.

    "You've never been the most talkative of the two. You've never been the most friendly. You've always pushed and pulled against all restraints and did everything you wanted. Kiritsugu didn't stop you, because he told me you knew your limits better than any of us would. I don't know if I can stop you either, because if he couldn't, then what are my chances? Shiro though, she has a bright future ahead of hers, but she's too busy worrying after her brother to care about it."

    "Using such a cheap trick will get you nowhere," I replied bluntly, "My sister's not so weak-willed she'd let something as trifle as this get in the way of her studies."

    "You think the bond you share with her is trifle?" Taiga asked with a small smile. "You are already rattling your hackles at her mention."

    I took another sip of the tea to calm down. I did not speak, and a heavy silence hung in the room. Taiga smiled, as if sure of her victory in a battle that I couldn't understand, or that maybe I did, and that my sanity hid from me in an effort to keep me sane.

    It could probably be a mixture of both. "You have said your piece," I said in the end. "And I remain unconvinced."

    Taiga pouted, and then smiled. "You know what this calls for?"

    "Not what you think," I replied. I had no intention of starting a 'Dojo Beat Down' hidden behind a facade of a 'Training session'. "I don't want to sweat before dinner."

    Taiga Fujimura did not insist. In a straight fight, I would lose even against the weakest of her pupils. Shiro was good with Kendo, and swords in general. I wasn't. I didn't have to be.

    I used the might of technology, the enduring sweat and blood of thousands of years to create the weaponry to kill better, to kill with more ease, to destroy lives and reap rewards.

    And it suited me just fine. For all of my 'brilliance', I was clad in a shroud of darkness that snuffed out all light. I was sure I'd summon Assassin naturally, if he weren't already booked by Caster.

    "Could you take Shiro in?" I asked as I looked down at the top of my cup, trembling lightly from the tremor in my hands.

    Taiga blinked. "Whaaaaaaa-?" she exclaimed, shocked and with her eyes wide. "What are you-Why?" she managed to say, her eyes fixed on me with shock, and no uncertain amount of disbelief. I stared right back at her.

    "It's not safe," I said. "A young boy and a young girl under the same roof, not tied by blood, it's really not safe. You're a woman, she's a girl. She'd be better off with you, and I wouldn't have to suffer her incessant nagging about waking up for school."

    "That's a lie," Taiga said. Her lips had moved to say 'Bullshit', but she didn't. "That's a lie, and yet I feel inclined to agree with you." She closed her eyes, "You Emiya men are so unfair," Taiga said.

    "It's for the best," I said as calmly as I could, "I'll break the news to her."

    Taiga stood up, and stepped away from the table. "One day, you'll have to stop lying and face the truth."

    "Maybe," I acquiesced. "But it is not this day."

    The night went on peacefully after Taiga's departure. Well, for a definition of peaceful that had nothing to do with the concept of peace, and everything to do with the concept of 'prowling night tiger'.

    Shiro had come back home late, in a slightly hurry and wet with sweat from the exertion of running. Her face promised threats of body violence, but my eyes saw something that made her quickly scamper away in a hurry.

    "And what is that?" I asked, blocking her by grabbing her arm as she tried to move past me.

    "Nothing," Shiro said. "I-I must have dripped the sauce on the cloth."

    "You dip your boxed lunch in blood now? Since when did you grow fangs?" I queried, making her turn and looking at the wound. Well, no, it wasn't a wound. There wasn't even a scar to see on the unblemished skin. There was blood around the hole in the cloth, of course. It was the blood that meant that the games had started.

    It meant peace was shattered.

    And I had been a day too late in getting Shiro to safety, but maybe not in safeguarding her for the aftermath of the battle. I knew, deep down, that it wasn't as if I needed to stick my neck out for long -I had lied to Kiritsugu, I had no intention of being a Hero of Justice, but with my lie, he had found peace. I just wanted to keep Shiro safe. If this hadn't happened, she'd be fine. If it did, I'd have to intervene, but not to win the Grail -I didn't care one ounce about the trinket, not a single bit.

    I cared only about saving the city of Fuyuki and its inhabitants, those I cared for at least.

    "Go take a bath," I said as I pulled away from the no longer existing wound, "You stink."

    "Hey!" Shiro exclaimed, "That's not something you tell a girl, you jerk."

    She punched me on the arm lightly, and hurried off. "Dinner might be late!" she yelled, "Don't steal the snacks while I'm bathing!"

    I flipped open the phone and bit down on my lower lip as I hastily pushed the numbers, two times I heard the 'beep' of the ringing, and at the third one, the old man on the other side picked up. "It's begun," I said, and nothing more had to be said. I closed the phone, and waited. I waited until the water began to fall in the shower, and then I walked quietly into the bathroom.

    Shiro was inside the bath room, showering. I had no intention of peeking, and my hands didn't even bother for a single second on her underwear. I grabbed the blood-soaked clothes and stepped outside, closing the door as quietly as I could. For the summoning ritual, I needed a catalyst. Shiro's blood, belonging to a body that held Avalon, should have sufficed. And if not, then I would work with what the Holy Grail would see fit to grant me.

    I stepped outside with the blood-soaked clothes hidden beneath my jacket, turning just to give off a false impression to those who might be watching. "I'll be off then! See you later!" I said, knowing fully well she wouldn't hear me under the shower head -and on the other side of the house to boot.

    My heart drummed in my chest, and nervousness would have paralyzed, had I not acknowledged my weak self prior to this, and acted in such a way as to at least suppress it. Self-Hypnosis wasn't something grand, or even something that worked most of the time, but it did calm my heart. It seems such a stupid thing to learn 'how to calm yourself', but think about how many times you would have benefited from it. During tests, when making difficult decisions, in matters of life and death, a cool head usually can come up with a solution the instinctive reaction programmed in our minds -self-survival- would have never found.

    The Emiya magic crest held knowledge. It held knowledge, and research. Under Kiritsugu, the research had stagnated. Under me, it would have probably gone in the wrong direction all together. I had no Avalon in my body -Shiro needed it to survive the fire, I, on the other hand, did not. I knew conceptually of Time Alter - Accel and Time Alter - Stagnate and against human opponents, they'd be wonderful. Against Servants, they were meaningless.

    Against Lancer, who prided himself in his skill with the lance, it would at most be a single dodge, executed if the opponent had pride blinding him -and no more.

    I was headed into the workshop, and from the workshop, the plan was simple. I was going to summon my servant. The only one remaining was Saber now, and there was thus no other way to go but hope that a fitting Saber would be summoned. Shiro's name could mean 'Castle', and while it was a stretch, I would have been fine even with a variant of Saber. Of course, the blood was no Catalyst in the proper sense of the term. It wasn't a holy relic, and it hadn't belonged to her.

    But the blood was powerful in its own right, and maybe it would work just fine. Or maybe it wouldn't, but I hardly had another chance. This was the last possibility before having to directly involve Shiro. If this worked, I'd shoulder it all. If it didn't, she had to shoulder a part of it, and I already knew it would end up badly if she did.

    I closed the doors of the workshop, and calmly placed my hands down on a nearby sphere. The Bounded Field around the premises had been a painstaking product to realize, and while meaningless to the many magi far more skilled than I, it was not designed with the intent to halt, or block, or slow down or anything that could aid me in a battle.

    It simply kept things as they were on the visible spectrum with a short two minute time-frame.

    Like watching a recording with a camera lens, the next two minutes would be recorded, and then shown to the observer. I had two minutes to summon Saber, and vacate the premises.

    Lancer -if he remained true to his purpose- had to kill the eyewitnesses and report back to Kirei, but if faced with Saber, he'd retreat.

    There was just one last thing to do.

    I moved the crates away and dropped the piece of white cloth on the ground. I took a small breath, and extended my right hand. This was the moment where everything had to work.

    Summoning a servant was not difficult. Give mana into the circle of summoning, and the Grail does the rest if you have a proper catalyst. If you don't, start chanting. If you start a chant, be sure it's something easy to follow through.

    I admit, I had expected this to not work as well as intended.

    When the bright, dazzling light show came to an end, I wasn't dead. The world was pretty much still spinning, and a lithe woman remarkably similar to Saber stood in front of me. The catalyst had worked in the sense that in front of me was a version of Saber, unfortunately, it hadn't been strong enough, and so in the end the personal preference had won out.

    Why did it have to be a blonde was beyond my ability to understand, but if such was the rule of the Grail -to make the Saber class a lithe woman- then I accepted it wholeheartedly.

    The girl looked around for a bit, her expression one of open disdain for the chaos, or maybe the dust, until her eyes finally met mine.
    "I ask of you, are you my master?" she asks, and all I do is nod at the blue and white clad woman.
    "Answer me...Are you my praetor?" she asks, and all I do is nod at the red and white clad woman.
    "We will talk later. We have people to kill." She says, and I nod firmly, showing the black and red woman the way out.
    "I suppose it could have been worse," she said with a crisp voice. "Beautiful young boys are good. Beautiful young girls are better. My singular preference is beauty...you are neither, but I will make do. I give you the honor of being my Praetor, which you will, of course, accept."

    "I've already got a headache," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose as I watched Nero, the Red Saber, walk out of the summoning circle as the back of my hand glowed with the symbols of the three command seals.

    "Oh?" Nero said, "It is beyond me to concerns myself with your health, but as a merciful emperor, I can bestow my sympathy upon you, praetor."

    Yes, you do that Nero. I...I just have to convince you to walk out the backdoor now.

    "I appreciate the thought," I said, "But actions speak louder than words. Let us go somewhere less dusty to discuss the tactics to win this war, oh great and merciful emperor," I had to hold on to my self-hypnosis to prevent the drawling from showing.

    "You are not asking my name," Nero remarked as I stepped right next to her, headed for the backdoor. "You are not as much as befuddled by my beauty?"

    "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," I replied. "But these are words of flattery, meaningless without the truth behind them. If you seek to prove to me that you are, indeed, breath-taking as I claim...please do follow me."

    I opened the backdoor. "You have a way with words the likes of Seneca," Nero said, a lingering memory behind her eyes casting a shadow over her gaze. "I feel you are making fun of me. In which case, be prepared. I so enjoy a comedy...when I am not the joke of it."

    We stepped outside just in time for Lancer to step right inside the workshop.

    Now, here is a funny tidbit. Servants are immune to modern weaponry. This means, and you'd be right in your understanding, that no amount of nuclear explosions would be capable of killing one. It's sad, but it's the truth. Even humans who managed to kill servants did so with more than enough circumstances behind it to justify such a thing. To strike one is like hitting a steel beam, even the weakest child-like version of one could rip a human being in half with a very basic application of strength.

    However, for all of their strengths, they have a weakness. That weakness is magic. Of course, since magic cancelling effects exist, as well as magic resistance, it would be sometime hard to get a servant to enter a specifically set up area. Even the blindest would see that there is a trap in an area with magic.

    But a Magus' workshop is naturally a place where such things happen, and not a single Magus would be so foolish as to sacrifice his entire life in research by allowing his workshop to be breached or, even worse, to be used as bait.

    I was the exception to the rule.

    Kiritsugu had claymore mines stashed away which a strong enough blast to mow down teams of units. While admittedly ineffective against servants, and while definitely requiring a tripwire of sort to activate -or in my case, a button- there was one thing that could be done to a claymore.

    One didn't have to shoot out iron pellets after all.

    Kiritsugu had expended most of his Origin Bullets, but he was dying, and he had more ribs to give. Prosthetic advances had made him a fake third, and in exchange the Servant known as Lancer knew pain.

    I wouldn't have been able to prepare such a thing alone, but again, I had knowledge.

    I had baited Lancer inside the workshop with the knowledge that he could not leave Shiro alone, and with the fact that he could not allow an incognita to interfere. He had come for me first, judging me the threat to subdue. He hadn't expected to find a Master of course, just a random Magus. He regretted his mistake immediately.

    The explosion tore asunder my workshop, driving bullets made of concepts harboring Severing and Binding into his frame with enough strength to shatter his armor, exposing his bleeding midriff which immediately sealed. The servant jumped back, the explosion enough to wound, but not kill, the mythical hero of Ireland.

    And that when he fell for another trap.

    You see, this is the true genius of my knowledge.

    Lancer's Hero is yes, renowned and famous, but in his demise...traps played an important part, thus making him naturally weak to such an element, for it was part of his defeat.

    "You rotten-" his voice came out as a strangled snarl, but already I had calculated it. I had calculated him jumping back, aiming to leave the bounded field. So I pushed another button and electricity soared to life. It was a very simple trick. An extremely limited usage of Transfer of Power, nothing more than simply having the electric wires within the walls transmit electricity outside of them.

    It was magic. It was powered by extra generators to give enough power in a single burst to power-up the city of Fuyuki. It was a trap.

    It was enough.

    Lancer fell down, a twitching form that barely seemed to hold on.

    "Could you do me the favor of killing the first servant?" I asked Nero.

    Nero looked at me. I gestured at Lancer.

    "I am sorry we could not properly greet each others," Nero said, plunging her sword straight through Lancer's spine. "Praetor! You demonstrated a cunning not unlike that of the Coliseum's trap masters! I approve of the fire, but not of the way it was done. Where was the sweat and the blood of two contestants fighting each other? Where was the roar of the crowd, clamoring for more? Alas, I can hardly expect any better."

    "Kaga! What's going on!?" I groaned at the nickname Shiro used to call me. You see, the word 'Kaga' is terribly similar in the Italian pronounciation to a verb, a verb that means 'to shit'.

    "Oh! Oh~ Oh-oh-oh!" Nero moved nimbly across the courtyard to the entrance of the house, where a wide-eyed Shiro clad in her bath towel and holding on to a reinforced shinai was. "I think I'll like this Domus! It's not as big as I wish, but with a cute girl like-"

    I pinched the bridge of my nose again.

    I had dealt with Lancer by using his weakness, thankfully with Saber in the background.

    'Twack' was the sound the shinai made when Shiro hit Nero on the face. 'Twack' 'Twack' 'Twack' came again, at least until the shinai broke, and Nero appeared undaunted and unperturbed. I simply turned away from the pitiful groans of Shiro and stepped back in the house.

    It was too late to keep Shiro ignorant of it all, so I just took out the coffee from the hidden compartment and prepared a mug of it. Explanations were due.

    And with explanations, Shiro would probably hit me a few times just because she could, and would.

    So I drank my coffee, and allowed the soothing sensation of the beverage to placate my nerves.

    "Praetor! Her skin's so soft -it rivals Octavia's!"

    I did not need that information. I really did not need it.
     
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    • Oh my god you killed lancer in the first two moves you bastard that was fucking hilarious.
     
    Shade. I should be sorry. I am not.

    I will call this:
    Shade understand having sisters-
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    I understood that something was deeply, disturbingly wrong the moment i woke up in the hospital.
    No, it wasn't the fact that Shirou was a girl, nor the presence of Ilya to the side of kiritsugu.

    It probably was the madly grinning face of the second Ilya occupying most of my sight the source of the wrong feeling. Really, tigers have less intimidating visages.(Somewhere, a teenaged tiger sneezed)
    And then she opened the mouth and rambled.
    "Hi! My name is Fredrika! Father told me we were going to gain a sister and a brother! Are you the brother? You do seem to have a brotherly face, but i lived in a castle for most of my life and i don't know other child-except for my sister who i am pretty sure she is a she because they told me and she is pretty similiar to me and i am a she and-" the little snowy demon took a moment for a deep breath "my mom was a she too and she was similiar to me too and you look like my dad- are you sure you aren't my lost brother instead of my adopted one- but i guess that you aren't my lost bro because your name mean burn and you came from a fire-"

    And then it hit me. O god. Oh god. I was in a AU with a cheerfull clone of Ilya.
    The horror must have shown of my face, because the little demon started gigglying. And then she laughed: an horrible sound, sounding like the wailing of a thousands souls losing their hopes.

    But it was what she said after- and did-, to shatter forever my dreams and hopes.
    Her giggling devolved in laughter, and then, as her laughter ended, the demon hugged me and told the words that sealed my fate.
    "Your face was really funny right now Burn-bro!" the demon said, breaking the hug and positioning her grinning face right into mine"I guess i will have to make you do it for the rest of my life!"

    O god, please strike me down now.
    ... Well, i guess that confirm it: god doesn't exist; the victim of such a powerful demon would have been saved in any possible way by a merciful and caring good.

    Or maybe God existed, but was an evil being, feeding with the suffering of the masses?
    The demon hugged me and squeezed.
    Yep, that was it. God wasn't good at all- and this one was his beloved servant, sent to make my life miserable.

    What could possibly go right?
    ----------------------------------------------------------------
    Years in the future, but not too many.

    I stared at the thing before me. There was not way that it was true. My demon sister couldn't have done it. It simply wasn't done.

    But the message was clear: put water inside, channel your energy, and enjoy your sweet nirvana, Yuka Yuka.(Oh god, how much i hated that nickname; especially when she repeated it like she was a broken record)
    She knew what i loved the most, but there was no way a demon like her wanted to cause me any kind of pleasure.

    And yet, i tried it(It had surely helped that my source of coffee misteriously vanished), expecting another of her horrible horrible traps.
    I put the water inside, and channelled prana.

    The sweet sweet smell of the heavenly beverage, slayer of sleepyness, the one of the bitter sweetness, filled my nostrils.
    No. There was no way she did it.
    And then i took a sip. Heaven: there was no other way the beverage that had just entered my mouth could be called in a different manner. My sister wasn't the demon she faked being: she was an angel sent by god to test my faith, and reward me if found not lacking.

    I craddled the cup like the modern holy grail it was, and swore to find a way to repay my scary sister.

    Maybe.
    Surely such a gift was simply a way to ask forgiviness for all the things she did to me?

    A.N. Omake featuring: Shade! The Coffee! Me as a genderbent SI(I am the demon sister! weeeeeee)! The rest of the family! A newfound understanding of sisters!
    Also featuring not being betaed nor corrected! Otherwise i would be still here, watching the screen.
     
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