I do not own Fate/Apocrypha nor any other Servants depicted here.
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Moonlight the church in its serene light. The priest looked up to the sky, taking in its beauty. In his heart, he was tense. Counting the days to the beginning of the Great Holy Grail War. Most of the Servants of the Red Faction have been summoned. Still, something was off in this War. As of yet, the Servants that his side received were... strange. Assassin was as he expected. The others, however...
Meeting them was quite colorful indeed.
"Wait, what the hell are you?" exclaimed Berzinsky the moment the smoke cleared around the array.
A little girl in a purple dress with matching shoes and top hat. A big red ribbon tied into a bow adorned the front of her dress. Her face looked human, but her arms were made of metal, with three metal feathers reminiscent of a peacock's sticking out of them at intervals. She also wore white gloves to cover her hands.
"Hey! Nice to meetcha," she exclaimed in a metallic, high pitched voice as she pulled a pre-lit cigar from out of nowhere and sucked on it, "They put me in Archer, so call me Archer. Is this gig like some kind of spy film where they give us secret code names and the like? Sounds boring to me."
The Silver Lizard's mouth was agape and speechless. Shirou Kotomine echoed his disbelief inwardly.
"So, do ya have a T.V. around here?"
"What... what is this?" asked Rum, shocked at what had appeared in the circle.
A tall person clad in black robes. It looked old with intricate decorations. Gloves and upper arms had metal coverings that looked like large scales. If one squinted, you could see a dragon's head overlooking the shoulders. This person had on a mask that was most peculiar, tentacular looking appendages over the top and the bottom.
"I have been called. I am of the Caster class," he announced sternly.
"I see. I am your Master. You will be working with him," she told him as she motioned to Shirou beside her.
The Servant turned his head towards the priest and growled "I see. Thus, our contract is complete. I hope this War does not disappoint."
"Deimlet, I do not think these are the Servants we summoned," stated Cabik as he looked them over.
"Indeed," concurred his brother. Turning to Shirou, he asked, "Has this happened before?"
"Twice, unfortunately," admitted the white-haired priest with a sigh, "Both times, relative unknowns."
"I see," the older brother noted as he turned back to their Servants.
Deimlet got a female Servant. Her white dress was provocative and her body left little to the imagination. She also had large cloak over her shoulders and a black bow in her hair. Two things stood out. Her metal left arm and the white flower growing out of her right eye. She stood up proudly and looked to him. "I presume you are the one that summoned me?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied.
"Very well, I am Rider of the Red Faction. May the cooperation proceed smoothly," she stated calmly.
"What is your class, Servant?" demanded Cabik, "Answer me!"
His brother, however, had a problem. His Servant did not speak. Even then, the summon had stood there without a word. It was fully armored from head to toe. Futuristic would be the most suitable word to describe it. The blue opaque glass of his helm blurred out his face quite well, so it was anyone's guess as to who the Servant was thinking. However, before Cabik could demand any further, the Servant grabbed his throat and brought him close to the faceplate. One could actually feel the anger rolling off him like waves.
"I think you have a Berserker class Servant," stated Shirou as he calmly schooled his face. "If you would please release your Master, Berserker?"
The Servant turned his head to the priest and paused. A few seconds later, he dropped the other half of the Gum brothers and walked off, shifting into spirit mode.
"I suggest we do not provoke him again," stated the priest, the other two nodding hurriedly.
Rider snorted and said, "Well, I certainly hope you two show a little more backbone later on. It would be a shame to terminate our contract so early."
"Why you-"
"Now, now. Please do not fight here. Save it for the Black Faction," pleaded the priest as he tried to placate both sides.
"Priest, this is not what I had summoned," von Sembren said sternly, a frown on his face.
"Of course it would happen again," Shirou groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. This was the fifth time now.
This Servant was certainly not of Indian origin. She had fair skin, green eyes, and shoulder-length, silver-blonde hair, for one. Her armor consisted of red and black leather armor that had a scale-like arrangement of leather plates. Various other leather pieces to her armor gave the appearance of wings behind her. The long white cape coming from her waist would give the same image.
"Well, I certainly didn't expect to be called here like this," she stated as she looked over herself, "I have been placed in Lancer for this War. I take it you are the one who called?"
"That is right," affirmed the Clocktower instructor.
"Alright then. The contract is set. So... is everyone here yet or not?"
"We are still missing a Saber," stated the priest.
"I see... well, I'll be off exploring then. You know where to find me."
Shirou Kotomine sighed as he turned around to reenter the church. So far, five out of six Servants were different. He could only hope that whoever summoned Saber didn't get a random Servant either. Then again, to expect this to be a normal War was thrown out of the window the moment the two factions were formed. And now... it has become a lot more complicated. Was this the Grail's way of evening out the playing field?
You sound vexed, Master.
"I am. Not even I could have foreseen such a thing, Assassin," he muttered softly.
Perhaps. However, come to think of it, wouldn't the Black Faction be plagued with a similar thing?
To that, the priest chuckled a little. Her words rang true enough. He could only imagine what utter chaos would be happening if this occurred to them as well.
It was a comforting thought.
Night had fallen on the city of Trifas. Darnic peered out of the window, dressed smartly in the white military-looking suit, nursing a cup of wine in hand. A knock on the door shook him out of his reverie.
"Enter," he said loudly as he turned around. An old, wizened gentleman stepped through and closed the door. Clothes in a style of 17th century England, his long red overcoat highlighting the greys and whites of the rest of his clothing.
"Ah, Caster. Glad to see you this evening," the magus greeted as he motioned to the chessboard on the table, "Do you play?"
"I dabbled in it from time to time," the Servant graciously replied in a grandfatherly manner as he stroked his grey beard, "I hope you would accept me as your opponent."
"By all means, Caster," he said as he motioned to the other seat, "Care for a drink?"
"I do not mind," the Servant of Magecraft stated as he sat down and then they began the motions of a game. A skeleton flickered into being behind him and moved to the side to get a serving tray, while Darnic had placed his on a tray held by a homunculus maid.
Minutes ticked by as move after chess move was played. Suddenly, Darnic asked, "Have you ever felt that everything so far was only for this moment?"
Intrigued, Caster responded, "Once, I believe. Why do you ask, Darnic?"
This prompted the former to explain as they continued their game, "It was prophecized by the Clock Tower that my bloodline would die off. Bound for glory I was, but those foolish words made me an outcast. I died once as a Magus. But I joined the Fuyuki Grail War and gained the Greater Grail for myself. In the sixty years since then, I have been preparing in Trifas. This makes me different from those who fought in the previous Holy Grail Wars."
"Hmm, I see. So summoning me, a Caster, was part of those preparations too," the Servant surmised.
"Indeed. While you were not the intended Servant, you have managed to astound. You skeletal minions would seem to rival golems," the magus praised with a smile.
"It is but a trivial thing for me. However, the golems that my Master crafts are grand undertakings in their own right," the latter applauded.
"Ah, that much is true. Still, utilizing your powers in a usual Holy Grail War would be difficult. Here and now though, the situation is different," he continued.
'Using homunculus to provide magical energy instead of your own was a wise choice," the Servant praised again.
"First Class Servants require immense amounts of magical energy. It's only logical to offload the burden onto someone else," Darnic reasoned.
"And thus we can use our Noble Phantasms freely to our heart's content," the Servant chuckled, "How fortuitous."
"I would not declare our victory so soon," he cautioned, "But we could not have been more prepared than this. Every Magus seeks True Magic from the Root, and I will be the one to reach it." And with a firm hand, he placed the final chess piece. "Checkmate."
"Well done, Darnic," Caster congratulated, "I concede."
A knock on the door sounded and opened to reveal Roche Frain, also in the white uniform. "Darnic, Caster, the ceremony preparations are complete," he announced respectfully.
The Yggdmillenia leader nodded. He turned to the Servant and gestured to the door, politely asking, "Shall we?"
Exchanging more nods, they get up from their seats and leave the room, Darnic leading the way. As they made their way to the grand hall, Roche asked his Servant, "Caster, the commissions have arrived for you."
"Have they?" the Servant exclaimed in gentle surprise, "Hmm, so it seems I can begin in earnest."
"If you do not mind me asking," queried the young Master with boundless curiosity, "What are you going to do with those stone carvings? Are you going to summon more powerful undead?"
The old man chuckled and muttered out, "Oh, no. Only a Servant can kill a Servant. My summons, ultimately, serve to wear them out and to hold back whatever Masters and followers they have.
The great doors swung open upon their arrival at the hall, where four others stood. They headed to the front of the room, where a lone white throne was. Seated on it was a Servant of royal stature. Rich garments of leather and cloth. A chiseled and handsome face scanning the room in a calm and collected manner.
Darnic bowed and stated, "Everything is ready, my liege." Getting a nod from the monarch, he stood up straight and turned to face the for future Masters.
"Yggdmillenia. We can begin."
Commentary:-
Hello everyone. I'm back. Yes, I've decided to delve into Apocrypha. Admittedly, I have not watched the anime, nor have I access to the novels. I do have the Internet though. So far, the wiki is good enough. And yes, I will be watching the anime, if not to see how I can bring about corruption to the storyline and all. But, what do we have today, you might ask? Pretty much revealing more than half of the Servants in contention of the Grail. And someone once said that half the fun is guessing who the replacements are. So here I present to you the Servants of the Red Faction. Guess away! Oh, but oh, the headache that Kotomine is having. Surprisingly, Darnic is way more collected this time, even playing chess with Caster of Black. Next chapter, is the summoning of the rest of the Black Faction. I present to you...
Fate/Doubtful Origin
Please read and review, would you kindly?