Hey everyone. Aspiring fanfic writer, etc who cares. Hope you enjoy what I have so far.
I don't own any of these things. /end disclaimer
Chapter List:Information:Servant SheetFate/RefractionPrologueLife.
It's such a wonderful thing, isn't it?
Full of hope, and love, and longing for things just out of reach.
Full of possibility, and despair, and the realization that what you seek is impossible to obtain.
Full of rules and conditions, of unforeseeable situations, of missteps and regret and that mind weariness which we call experience.
Life.
What is it good for?
What is good for it?
What is the point of something so resilient and so fragile, so unpredictable in its cycles, repeating patterns that are at once incomprehensible and frighteningly mundane?
And what is the best way to cultivate such a self-contradictory thing, the best way to maintain something that always moves towards its own destruction? How do the living maintain themselves when they realize they hate existing, and hate the end of that existence even more?
Life.
To err is to live, and to live is to err. It's a simple reflexive property, one seen countless times.
And out of these errors, human interaction emerges. It accumulates and coalesces into something so horrendously complicated that we come to hate it, trapped as we are by it. We start to strive for that which is out of reach, for something that will never be touched by our callused, broken, bloodied hands.
By itself, this is nothing worthy of note, as everyone faces this to some degree. What is interesting is how one reacts to this. Does one ignore it? Oppose it? Accept it? Something in between?
It is hard to say which way is right. Right and wrong, good and evil: all these are human concepts, invented to try and explain our own existence. And though we try as we might, life always has the upper hand, constantly ridiculing our attempts to comprehend its secrets, berating us for wasting its gift on trying to discover how the gift works.
All anyone can really say is that life goes ever onwards, towards an unknown and unknowable conclusion that some view as our salvation, others as our destruction.
Life.
We can say it is like water, torrential and unfathomable. We can liken it to the earth, nurturing and unstoppably powerful. We can speak of how it is like fire, consuming and hauntingly beautiful. And we can whisper of how it resembles the wind, ethereal and beholden only to itself.
It is all these things, and it is none of them. Cliché, but true nonetheless. Whenever we try to ascribe certain attributes to life, it simultaneously conforms to our expectations and works to undermine this perception. That is its nature, the legacy it has left for humanity. It is at once illuminating and obscuring, informing and deceiving, invigorating and parasitic.
Perhaps the best comparison we can draw with life, then, is something necessary for its continued existence, something that also conceals its dual nature with the shroud of familiarity.
That is to say, the closest thing to life is light.
And the easiest way to disperse that light is through the use of a prism.
…
But you’re not here for my ramblings, are you?
No, you’re here for a story. A story you’ve heard many times before, and one that you never seem to tire of. You probably know what to expect by now.
Let’s try something a little different, then.
This is the story of a man who had a dream, one of heroes and salvation and justice for all. It was as selfless and hopeful as it was unrealistic.
This is the story of a man who was tested, pitted against those who sought the prize of an impossibility realized. He fought, and fought, and fought, until his body withered away and his dream lay dying in the dust.
This is the story of a man who was broken by his miracle.
=======
>> Sequence: Light
Chapter 1: Beginnings
Saturday, 2/2 – Evening
Shirou
For the second time that night, Shirou wished he had joined the track team instead.
Another transformer exploded above his head, consuming the utility pole in a blast that was partly electrical, mostly magical, and entirely too bright. He saw light, followed by stars as his forehead hit the concrete again. The smell of scorched wood and singed hair filled his nostrils as he forced himself back up to continue running.
Keep running. Don’t stop running. You’re dead if you stop. He looked for his assailant as he ran down the empty streets. Of course, Shirou wouldn’t benefit much from actually seeing his attacker, but shouldn’t a dead man at least be allowed to see the face of his executioner before the end?
Unfortunately, the only thing he saw was another flash as the transformer box directly in front of him was destroyed. It was followed by more stars.
Get up. Get up, or you won’t ever get up again.He got up. His body was screaming at his brain to stop, but Shirou’s brain was rather preoccupied with some rather basic things: namely, breathing, moving, and not dying.
Think. He’s not aiming directly at you. For some reason, he’s only been targeting electrical fixtures.Shirou ran off the sidewalk, which was lined with many electrical fixtures, and out into the middle of the street, which was not. Though his repaired body and adrenaline-fueled mind were racing, some small part of him congratulated himself on that particular insight.
He was rewarded by almost being crushed by a bisected utility pole, which then proceeded to explode.
Dimly, Shirou thought that feeling weightless for several seconds was probably not a good sign as the blast threw him into the air. He took some small comfort in the fact that it was the back of his head that hit the ground this time – his forehead was killing him.
Hah… if only that were the case. I could deal with a murderous forehead.He tried to move, but his body felt as heavy and unyielding as steel. He tried to think, but realized that it honestly wasn’t worth the effort anymore.
He was exhausted, and just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Sleep, and dream about a regular day where he didn’t have to worry about getting speared through the heart or exploded off his feet. At least this time, his body had the courtesy to stop feeling pain before his awareness faded.
After all, a man can only die so many times in single night before he starts to develop certain preferences.
=======
Friday, 2/1 – Evening Sakura She was beautiful. Tall, strong, and calmly confident, the Servant standing in front of her seemed like everything she was not.
“I am Servant Caster. I ask of you: are you my master?”
Sakura took a good look at her Servant, as it was likely to be the last chance that she would get. Caster’s waist-length hair was jet black, her eyes a bright blue. She was wearing black clothing, grey gloves, and a cloak that was obviously not made conventionally: white and impossibly smooth, it was divided into sections which allowed the ends to curl up slightly. It was almost as if someone had gotten a particularly large sheet of gloss paper, made several vertical cuts, and wore it – though the difference in quality would be like comparing a picture of a high-end sports car drawn by a toddler with the real thing.
Grandfather’s voice cut through the silence. She must have been staring longer than she thought.
“Sakura. When you are done eyeing our guest, would you be so kind as to complete the summoning?”
Shinji, who was
actually eyeing the Servant, snickered under his breath. Sakura flushed and reminded herself why she was here.
“Er, um, yes! Yes, I am your Master, and I accept your… erm… servitude?”
As soon as those words left her mouth, Sakura realized that she had made a terrible mistake. Shinji, oblivious to her blunder, tried to contain his laughter – and failed. Her blush deepened as Sakura felt a wave of shame and fear wash over her.
I wasn’t supposed to accept her as my Servant! Oh crap, what do I do? Caster’s expression went from unamused to openly hostile, and Sakura wished the Servant’s eyes didn’t look so similar to those of another magus she knew. Caster’s disapproval, on top of everything else, was more than she could bear.
At least, more than she could bear emotionally.
“… alright then, Master. Let’s get out of this depressing place and draw up a plan of attack.”
Caster strode out of the circle, grabbed Sakura’s arm, and started pulling her to the stairs. It seemed as if she was in a particular hurry to get out of the basement, and though Sakura couldn’t really blame her, she resisted.
No, please, stop! It’s my fault I messed up, but this is making it worse! Please… Caster stopped, confused. “Is there a problem, Master?”
It was at this point that Grandfather chose to interject.
“I am afraid that there has been a slight misunderstanding, Servant Caster. You see, the girl there is not your Master.”
Grandfather Zouken was an intimidating man. Sure, he didn’t
look particularly intimidating: small, spindly, and sunken, the patriarch of the Matou family appeared to be a wrinkled old man living out the last of his days.
Thinking that that was all there was to Matou Zouken, however, would prove to be a fatal mistake.
What he lacked in physical stature, he more than made up with sheer presence, a force of will that crushed any notion of disobedience. It wasn’t as if his word was law: laws can be defied, broken, changed. No, when Matou Zouken wished for something to be done, it was
done. The concept of rebellion died when Zouken entered the picture.
The fact that he was an incredibly powerful magus didn’t help much, either.
While she kept her face carefully neutral, Sakura cringed on the inside. Though it was an accident, Sakura knew all too well that
any mistake would be seen as disobedience, and thus punished with extreme prejudice. The girl suppressed a shudder as one of Grandfather’s punishers twitched inside her.
She felt Caster’s grip waver slightly. Servant or not, Caster should at least understand that a confrontation with Grandfather might not end well for her. Besides, a fight over
her was ridiculous – though Caster seemed… nice?… they had only just met. The prudent thing to do would be to let Grandfather do as he pleased. That’s what she would have done.
Thus, it came as a bit of a surprise to Sakura when Caster actually tightened her grip.
“I don’t understand. This girl summoned me and accepted me as her Servant. Among the three people present in this room, only two are magi, and only she possesses the Command Spells. Logically, she is the only possible candidate.”
(In the back, Shinji spluttered. “Wait, you did
what?!” Apparently, he had just realized what had happened. He was ignored.)
Sakura felt a wave of terror.
No, don’t talk back to him! This was the exactly sort of defiance that would land both of them in deeper trouble. Already, she could hear Grandfather’s lecture in her head:
A Servant’s actions reflect their Master’s intentions, and it seems as though your intentions were flawed. Allow me to correct them. Grandfather’s expression didn’t change. He glanced at Sakura, and she instinctively recoiled.
“Your reasoning is mostly accurate. However, your knowledge of the current situation is... incomplete.” Grandfather looked at Shinji. “Shinji, come forward.”
He did, clearly angry and clutching a small book in his hand. It was obvious that he wanted to explode, but even he knew that doing so in front of Grandfather was a bad idea.
“As you correctly noticed, the boy has no magic circuits, and would not normally be allowed to enter the Heaven’s Feel. However, the tool he is holding allows even a talentless magus like himself to participate.”
The Book of the False Attendant. She would transfer her Command Spells to it and become little more than a human battery, supplying prana to keep Caster in this world while Shinji went out to win the War. Or try to, at least.
Grandfather’s tone changed slightly, and Sakura could detect the telltale disappointment that spoke of a long night. “The plan was to have the girl transfer her Command Spells to that book, making the boy your Master. And while events have not proceeded exactly as planned, this little error can be easily rectified.”
He rapped his cane once. “Sakura.”
With a glare that promised future violence, Shinji opened the book and prepared to receive the Spells. Sakura sighed and resigned herself to her fate, just like she always did.
It would have been nice to be Caster’s Master, though. Suddenly, several fully-charged magic circles appeared in mid-air. Before Sakura could cry out, beams of pure prana shot out and perforated the book. Shinji… Shinji
yelped, jerking backwards as if he suddenly realized that the thing in his hands was both slimy and on fire.
Did… did I do that? As quickly as they appeared, the magic circles vanished. Both Shinji and the burning book were sprawled on the floor, with the flames dancing in Shinji’s eyes. Shock quickly turned to anger as he stood up and rounded on Sakura.
“You… you little
bitch! She was supposed to be
mine, you little slut!
Mine!! HOW
DARE YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME?!!”
He lunged at Sakura, but before she could react Caster was already in between them. The Servant deftly grabbed his wrist, twisted it with a wince-inducing
crack, and wrenched the furious boy onto the ground. Tens of magic circles suddenly surrounded Shinji, who shifted from blind fury to cowed whimpering in an impressively short amount of time. Caster’s eyes were shining with rage.
“I’ll only tell you this once, boy, so listen very carefully. Try attacking my Master again, and you won’t have enough time to even
think about pissing your pants before I vaporize you.” She leaned in. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Shinji, sobbing and smelling distinctly of urine, nodded frantically as he nursed his broken wrist. Satisfied with this answer, Caster turned to Grandfather.
“Due to an unexpected accident, it appears that the boy is no longer willing or able to become my Master. Unless you intend to transfer the girl’s Spells to yourself, it appears that I am forced to accept the girl as my Master, as unfortunate as it is.”
Grandfather cocked his head slightly, amused. “Suppose that I intended to do as you suggested. What would you do?”
Caster smiled then, the wolfish grin of a predator. “If that were to happen, then I suppose additional unexpected accidents may occur.”
Sakura winced as Grandfather’s laughter filled the room, a sickening, wheezing thing that reverberated through her body. Caster never faltered – indeed, her smile widened a bit, almost in anticipation. Desperately afraid, Sakura prepared to shout at her Servant to run, to escape, to do anything but fight. Even if she
was powerful, she had no idea what he was capable of, and Sakura didn’t want to let her find out.
Before she was able to work up enough courage, however, something terrible happened. Grandfather…
smiled.
“Good.
Very good. I admit, I had my fears about your capabilities as a Servant, but it seems those have been largely unfounded.” His eyes defocused slightly. “Yes… with this, the Matou family may finally be able to win this War.”
He stepped aside to let them pass. Trembling slightly, Sakura could feel his eyes on her the whole way up the stairs.
Caster… what have you done? =======
>> Rewind Scene Zouken “I am Servant Caster. I ask of you: are you my master?”
This wasn’t the Servant he was expecting.
He took a closer look. The woman’s cloak was magically made – a Mystic Code, perhaps – but the rest of her clothing looked more suitable for a fighter than a magus. Devoid of any ornamentation, her apparel was designed for practicality without any regards to style, which was unusual for a magus.
But more than that, this self-proclaimed Caster seemed to be utterly devoid of prana.
He glanced his adoptive daughter. Eyes wide and mouth slightly open, the girl was either awed or surprised by the creature in front of her. Perhaps both.
“Sakura. When you are done eyeing our guest, would you be so kind as to complete the summoning?”
Some part of him delighted in watching her squirm. The rest of him continued to focus on the Servant before him. So far, he was not impressed.
“Er, um, yes! Yes, I am your Master, and I accept your… erm… servitude?”
As Shinji laughed, Zouken’s mood darkened even more. Flustered as she was, the girl had made a mistake. Though it was far from serious, he made a mental note to punish her later for not thinking things through. Consistency was key when dealing with children, after all.
He noticed the look Caster shot at Shinji. A sense of nobility, eh? Good. Easier to manipulate.
“… alright then, Master. Let’s get out of this depressing place and draw up a plan of attack.”
He watched as Caster tried to leave with Sakura, only to have the girl pull back. Inside, he smiled slightly. His methods were nothing if not effective.
“Is there a problem, Master?”
Time to correct the girl’s mistake.
“I am afraid that there has been a slight misunderstanding, Servant Caster. You see, the girl there is not your Master.”
He saw Sakura’s eyes darken ever so slightly.
Still holding onto hope? Foolish girl, you should know better than that. He made one of his worms wriggle inside her, to let her know precisely what he thought of that.
All he could see in Caster’s eyes was defiance.
“I don’t understand. This girl summoned me and accepted me as her Servant. Among the three people present in this room, only two are magi, and only she possesses the Command Spells. Logically, she is the only possible candidate.”
Analytical. Knew that the girl had the Command Spells without receiving verbal or visual proof. Impressive, considering that she does not seem to have any capacity for magecraft. Were he following the rules, Caster would have a point. Fortunately, he had helped
design those rules, meaning that it was his unique privilege to ignore them entirely.
“Your reasoning is mostly accurate. However, your knowledge of the current situation is... incomplete. Shinji, come forward.”
The boy did so, seething at what was at worst a trivial error. Zouken didn’t really care what Shinji would do to Sakura later, as long as he didn’t make a scene right now.
“As you correctly noticed, the boy has no magic circuits, and would not normally be allowed to enter the Heaven’s Feel. However, the tool he is holding allows even a talentless magus like himself to participate.”
Though her composure revealed nothing, Zouken could sense the woman’s discomfort.
Maybe you two have something in common, then. He injected a hint of annoyance into his voice. He wasn’t actually angry at Sakura, but it was necessary to start putting the girl back in her place. Consistency, consistency, consistency.
“The plan was to have the girl transfer her Command Spells to that book, making the boy your Master. And while events have not proceeded exactly as planned, this little error can be easily rectified.”
He brought his cane down, to get the girl’s attention. “Sakura.”
As she prepared to transfer the Command Spells, Zouken considered his situation. He was having mixed feelings about this woman. Though her composure was admirable, she was disobedient, and her lack of prana made him question her actual effectiveness as a Caster-type Servant. It was unlikely to be a mishap in the summoning process, as he would have been the first one to detect-
Zouken’s flow of thought was interrupted when he felt 7 prana signatures suddenly materialize out of nowhere.
What? He watched with fascination as magic circles appeared in the air and incinerated the Book of the False Attendant. The slight discomfort caused by the destruction of the book’s worms didn’t even register to him.
Those circles were drawn on some flying surface, no doubt enchanted to be invisible – though that does not explain how I was not able to detect them. Furthermore, the circles themselves did not generate that attack. No, they seemed to be… pathways. “You… you little
bitch! She was supposed to be
mine, you little slut!
Mine!! HOW
DARE YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME?!!”
Caster handled the boy’s foolish outburst with a combination of martial skill and raw brutality. He approved.
Once again, the circles appeared, surrounding the boy. They were unlike any thaumaturgy he had encountered, seemingly cobbled together from a variety of different disciplines. He thought he even saw a rune or two floating around in their shifting forms.
“I’ll only tell you this once, boy, so listen very carefully. Try attacking my Master again, and you won’t have enough time to even
think about pissing your pants before I vaporize you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
The Servant turned to him, expression neutral but eyes aflame. Clearly, first appearances were deceiving with this one.
This was the most entertained he had been in a long, long time.
“Due to an unexpected accident, it appears that the boy is no longer willing or able to become my Master. Unless you intend to transfer the girl’s Spells to yourself, it appears that I am forced to accept the girl as my Master, as unfortunate as it is.”
If Matou Zouken still had a heart, it would have been filled with a tiny amount of twisted, perverse hope. Because he was composed entirely of worms, however, he merely felt excited.
Excellent. Cruel, underhanded, and a powerful to boot. Not afraid to punish those clearly beneath her. Let’s push her a bit.
“Suppose that I intended to do as you suggested. What would you do?”
The creature grinned, one that promised a quick incapacitation followed by a slow, agonizing death. “If that were to happen, then I suppose additional unexpected accidents may occur.”
It was a wonderful answer, one that revealed a willingness to do anything, to become anything, to achieve some final end. It didn’t matter to her that she was in an unfamiliar place, staring down a powerful magus in the seat of his power – the woman in front of him would destroy anything that got in her way to get what she wanted. For the first in time in a long time, Zouken felt the faintest stirrings of fear.
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. After all these years, he had finally found a kindred spirit.
“Good.
Very good. I admit, I had my fears about your capabilities as a Servant, but it seems those have been largely unfounded.”
So close. Though this war had not started yet, Zouken felt that his goal was so very, very close.
“Yes… with this, the Matou family may finally be able to win this War.”
As the girl and the woman passed him by, Zouken was lost in thought.
There is one small problem. For whatever reason, she has taken the girl into her protection. Chivalry, perhaps? A sense of justice? Smiling as he looked back at this wonderful monster, he decided that it was irrelevant. He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect Servant. True, her insubordination and nobility were hindrances, but it was far easier to make small adjustments to an otherwise ideal specimen than to try to create one from scratch.
He looked forward to breaking this one.
=======
>> Rewind Scene Caster Summoning complete. Alaya, but I hope I’m in the right era. Partition check. She split her mind six times, and six voices answered simultaneously.
[Subpartition 1A checking in. Mental fragmentation within acceptable ranges.] [Subpartition 1B checking in. Waiting on you.] [Twoa here! Aren’t you guys excited?!] [This is Twob. Ready to kick some ass.] [III A. Dammit, you couldn’t let me rest a little longer?] [… iii b. how much is it going to hurt this time?] Good. Everything was alright with her head.
Body check. Spek, how am I doing? A wave of sensation flowed from Caster’s heart to the rest of her body as the integrity scan proceeded. She locked her muscles for this part, otherwise she would be convulsing in a heap on the ground – not the most dignified way to make an entrance.
She didn’t hear the answer. Rather, she
felt it.
>> Looks like you’re alright. A couple parts might need maintenance soon, but nothing requiring immediate replacement. I am, of course, pristine. >> Why do you even have to ask? You should know already. You did
share a part of your soul with me, remember? For the umpteenth time, Caster seriously considered just rewriting Spektrum.
>> Meanie! I felt that. Just follow the checklist, please. >> Fine. Let me see… my check is next. Yay! And you’re obviously alright. Check complete. Time elapsed: 0.34 seconds. >> HEY! Ignoring her disgruntled cloak, Caster terminated all her mental partitions except for Partition 1. While she hoped she would be on familiar ground, there was still the possibility that she had arrived for the wrong Heaven’s Feel. If that was the case, she could use all the impartial calculation she could get.
Caster turned on her eyes, and saw a girl she hadn’t seen for a long, long time.
[1B: I don’t have to cross-check that face to know whose it is. Time period confirmed to be 21st century, Fifth Holy Grail War. We made it.] Local scan. Room confirmed to be the basement of the Matou manor. She expected the three people present, and hated two of them.
Shinji and Zouken. I forgot what they looked like, and now I remember why. Sakura… for everyone’s sake, let’s just get this over quickly. “I am Servant Caster. I ask of you: are you my master?”
Caster’s announcement was met with a deafening silence. Zouken was leering at her, Sakura was gawking at her, and Shinji was… ogling her.
Even though she was a spirit and didn’t have to worry about trivial things like personal hygiene anymore, Caster still felt like she wanted to take a shower.
[1A: Current scenario falls within 95% confidence interval boundaries. Is something wrong with the audio feed?] “Sakura. When you are done eyeing our guest, would you be so kind as to complete the summoning?”
[1A: … nevermind.] Shinji, who was standing right behind Sakura, started to snicker in a way he thought was unnoticeable. She shot a death glare at him, hoping to shut him up, but he didn’t notice.
Spek, deploy some Licht
platforms for me, will you? >> Way ahead of you. 28
Lichts left Spektrum, shrouded themselves, and took up firing positions around Shinji, waiting for Caster’s command. Even after all these years, the boy was still intolerable.
“Er, um, yes! Yes, I am your Master, and I accept your… erm… servitude?”
That voice. So frail, uncertain, innocent. It was a memory made manifest, one of a quiet girl who had uncertain hopes for the future, who dreamed of a quiet life with her beloved.
She had no idea what was in store for her. Though Caster never really believed in God, she prayed that the girl would never lose sight of that dream.
[1A: Contract confirmation falls outside predictions. Priority – Remove Sakura from the situation. With luck, next event on current prediction sequence can be preempted.] “… alright then, Master. Let’s get out of this depressing place and draw up a plan of attack.”
She stepped forward and pulled Sakura with more force than one might expect. Caster was aware of the girl’s circumstances, and knew that she would be hesitant to do anything in Zouken’s presence that he did not specifically command her to do.
She proved even more stubborn than anticipated.
“Is there a problem, Master?”
Caster already knew what the problem was, but for appearance’s sake she had to ask.
“I am afraid that there has been a slight misunderstanding, Servant Caster. You see, the girl there is not your Master.”
That voice. Long-forgotten memories pushed against her consciousness before she locked them out. She considered it repulsive that such an abomination could manipulate itself to generate something resembling human speech. At least her own body parts were still human.
Technically.
[1A: Feign ignorance while provoking him. Zouken must not suspect that we know anything, but must feel the need to summon a second Servant.] “I don’t understand. This girl summoned me and accepted me as her Servant. Among the three people present in this room, only two are magi, and only she possesses the Command Spells. Logically, she is the only possible candidate.”
At least, she’s the only one with Command Spells on her person. Being the devious old magus that he was, Zouken almost certainly had ways to circumvent that particular problem. That was what she hoped for, actually.
“Your reasoning is mostly accurate. However, your knowledge of the current situation is... incomplete.”
It’s more complete than you might suspect. “Shinji, come forward.”
[1B: Considering that you’re me, you probably know this already, but we can’t allow that Spell transfer.] “As you correctly noticed, the boy has no magic circuits, and would not normally be allowed to enter the Heaven’s Feel. However, the tool he is holding allows even a talentless magus like himself to participate.”
Caster picked up on the slight inflection in Zouken’s voice, and noticed Sakura’s terrified reaction. It made her furious.
“The plan was to have the girl transfer her Command Spells to that book, making the boy your Master. And while events have not proceeded exactly as planned, this little error can be easily rectified.”
The monster tapped his cane.
“Sakura.”
For once in her life, Caster felt as if she understood Shinji: both of them were extremely – and irrationally – angry. Unlike him, however, her ability to split her mind meant that she could get away with a little bit of righteous anger. He glared murderously at Sakura as he opened the book to begin the transfer.
Now. Taking a microsecond to adjust their outputs, Caster activated seven
Lichts simultaneously, causing them to revert into their default configurations as portal stabilizers. Beams of pure prana shot out and destroyed the book with a satisfying
bwoomph.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t
exactly the sound it made. Onomatopoeia was not her strong suit. Suffice it to say that it was satisfying as hell.
“You… you little
bitch! She was supposed to be
mine, you little slut!
Mine!! HOW
DARE YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME?!!”
That voice. It could be mocking, or callous, or afraid, but whenever it was furious things were always about to get worse.
Apparently, Shinji mistook Caster’s independent action for something that Sakura commanded her to do. Zouken obviously wasn’t going to do anything, so it fell to Caster to take corrective action.
You had this coming. With a step, twist, and a crack, Shinji was blubbering on the floor, rage replaced with pain and fear. Pathetic as he was, Caster almost pitied him. Of course, when she noticed a pale yellow fluid spreading across the floor and ruining her good shoes, that feeling disappeared at the speed of thought.
Seeing Sakura empathize with him didn’t help her mood much, either.
“I’ll only tell you this once, boy, so listen very carefully. Try attacking my Master again, and you won’t have enough time to even
think about pissing your pants before I vaporize you.”
Belatedly, Caster realized that all 28 Licht platforms were active and waiting for her command to turn Shinji into another smear on the floor. She was sorely tempted to just end him right there, but she still needed him for the next part of her plan.
“Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Shinji nodded so violently that Caster thought he would break his own neck. It would certainly save her the trouble.
[1B: Can’t turn back now. Appeal to Zouken’s sadistic side. Don’t make him an enemy just yet.] That was just as well. She was feeling particularly vindictive at the moment.
“Due to an unexpected accident, it appears that the boy is no longer willing or able to become my Master. Unless you intend to transfer the girl’s Spells to yourself, it appears that I am forced to accept the girl as my Master, as unfortunate as it is.”
Zouken smiled, and Caster wished that didn’t go over as well as it had.
“Suppose that I intended to do as you suggested. What would you do?”
In spite of her anger, or maybe because of it, Caster smiled.
Trying to see how I would react? So that’s the game you want to play, huh? She told him the truth. After all, sometimes honesty
was the best policy.
“If that were to happen, then I suppose additional unexpected accidents may occur.”
He laughed. Forget showering – Caster wished she could jump into a vat of ammonia. Or maybe bathe herself in a hydrothermal vent at the bottom of the sea. Either would be preferable.
Additionally, Zouken laughing was always a bad thing. It would be inconvenient if things turned violent now: he would be a tough opponent, and she wouldn’t have much room to maneuver given the cramped confines of the basement and Sakura’s presence. Besides, she also needed him to do one more thing for her.
Then again, if he wanted a fight, Caster would gladly oblige.
“Good.
Very good. I admit, I had my fears about your capabilities as a Servant, but it seems those have been largely unfounded.”
You have no idea what I’m capable of, old man. “Yes… with this, the Matou family may finally be able to win this War.”
He stepped aside, and though she was mostly relieved, Caster still felt slightly disappointed. Still, she moved quickly: she needed to get Sakura out of here, and this was the chance to do just that before anything more dramatic happened.
[1A: First step complete.] [1B: And a million more to go.] As she climbed the stairs with Sakura in tow, Caster reviewed her goals for this war. She wasn’t going to let anything, not even herself, get in the way of her wish.
Because this wish wasn’t something the Grail could grant. How could it?
It had taken it away in the first place.
