{Fear, Phobos, is the driving force of Humanity.}

"That's the only thing I owe you, Shirou. Now you know what situation you are in, and the fact that I will remove you from the war if you so much as speak to me beyond this moment." Lancer watched the dark haired girl berate his master. "I'm coming for you last."

"Last?" Shirou said, not thinking clearly. Might have been the blood loss. "Why can't we be allies?"

"You don't get it, do you?" she was getting louder with every word. "This is a war! At the end of this I'll be standing over the smoking corpses of my enemies! I've trained my entire life for this moment, and you'll die if you stand in my way! So get this: I'm saving your sorry ass for last!" She nearly screamed the last, before shutting the front door with finality.

Shirou was calm for a moment, then turned and gave him a shaky smile. "I'm sure she was kidding."

"Women do not jest when they slam doors," he told the younger man. "If we were back home, I would simply recommend you speak to the girl's father for the best chance of survival."

"How would that help? I'm fairly sure her father's dead, too."

"If a woman can scream at you, make you think differently, then she is beyond reproach and should be sought after." He reached up to remove his helmet. It was the first time he had done so yet. "Master. I only jest because I worry for you. Your position in this war is as dire as she stated."

"But you stopped that Assassin! You stabbed him, and he got away."

They were almost the same in hair color. Shirou's red hair was a good match to his own. But his facial features were far different. "You, my Master, are a very weak mage. It was all I could do to simply stop that Assassin. I dare not draw upon your magical supply further or I shall damage you. If I activated my noble phantasm, you would be under such a strain that you may lose your fingers and toes from the damage I would cause you." He reached out, offering his hand. "Nonetheless, I am your Servant. I do not believe in stopping a hot-headed young fool."

"Thanks, Lancer," Shirou said, a genuine smile touching his lips. "But, uh, what was that about—"

"Your wounds." The older man placed his hand upon the damaged wrists and scraped elbows. "They are not the wounds taken by a warrior or trained combatant. Yet you fought anyways. The bruises on your wrists suggest that you have good instincts. But not enough experience." He let go of the boy's wrist, definitely noticing the calluses that had built up around them. "Yet I see the signs of hard work in you."

"I was on the archery team." Shirou added, rubbing a massive purpling bruise on his left arm. "I was one of the best."

"Archery is the work of slaves and Pheonician pirates," Lancer said without vitriol. "I don't know what equates manhood or accomplishment in this modern era, but only the mightiest of archers could challenge any of my men. As you have proven, an archer approached up close loses their advantages. Ergo, weakness." He tapped Shirou on the forehead. "Fool."

"I didn't plan on being part of anything like this!" Shirou recovered, face heating. "I can fight better than most!"

"I suppose that I can be proud you are willing to fight. Most mages are not so physical." This boy was no Spartan, but he would do. "You are a hot-headed fool." He grinned, giving the boy plenty of teeth. "Much like I was."

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but would you mind not calling me a fool?"

"I do not withhold my opinion. It shall be stated no matter what kind of social niceties you expect. Though the Grail gave me information about this era and the gift of tongues, it did not impart an expectation for my tongue to be contained of its truth."

Shirou's eyebrow twitched once. "Did no one ever teach you to speak politely?"

"You summoned a King. There is no other language a king may speak in."

Lancer would not be moved despite the boy's obvious discomfort. He had to grow up very fast if he was to survive this war. Leonidas would not mince words for a man in his position. "May I get you some food? Something to drink?" asked the boy eventually.

"I require bread and water. Nothing more." It was the only kindness you should expect in a foreign land.

"I have green tea and sesame buns." Shirou offered, presenting two loaves quickly. Lancer started sweating. Both loaves looked more than simply bread. More importantly, neither looked like the bread he was used to. "Or were you looking for something that had fillings?"

Lancer could feel a bit more sweat running down his back. "Master," he quickly amended. "There are some things that I must explain about myself. Or rather, that in my upbringing we considered all luxuries a sign of weakness." He pointed to the bread. "Like those."

"Um." Shirou looked honestly confused. "These are some of the cheapest breads that you can buy. The most basic."

Lancer and Shirou looked at each other awkwardly for the space of several heartbeats. "Perhaps I will try that one." He pointed to the left one. It looked more plain, perhaps.

Shirou offered the small loaf of bread. "Does eating help you, if you survive off of my mana?" Rather than tolerate this awkwardness any longer, he needed some way to break it. His master was being too kind to him in this endeavor.

"It does." Lancer had to stomach the odd tastes that assailed his tongue. "Food cannot replace mana, but it reduces the pain you will feel." He offered the young man his spear. "You are a kind master. I shall hide my identity no further, so you may understand my strengths and weaknesses." He waited but a moment before continuing. "I am a true son of Laconia. Descended from Zeus through his son Heracles, and borne of the only true women in all of Greece, I am Leonidas. I am a King of ancient days brought here as a heroic spirit to fight and then die for the sake of my summoner. Or so the Grail demands I believe." He pointed at the spear in

"Thank you, Lancer. Leonidas." Shirou shared honestly. "I don't want to lose."

"No one does." The boy was too young to understand. But he would.

{For what we fear, we plan to defeat.}

"Lancer, by the power of my command seal, come to me!" He had been in contemplation in the training rooms of the Emiya home when the energy of the grail took hold of him. Shirou was using his first command seal to summon him. With a grin, he brought his helmet down and braced himself. He was pulled through time and space to arrive at some kind of dockyard, yet the technology was far better than any he had seen in Athens or Sparta of olde. Gigantic vessels moored here, larger than entire cities in their own right. Metal crates the size of homes decorated every available space, adorned with symbols and designs. Lastly, there was a weapon coming right at his face.

He was the fastest Servant in the grail war. He was the embodiment of speed. His shield blocked the blow, which still rattled his helmet. The enemy had scratched him, but it was not enough. In the shadow of his helm, Leonidas grinned. This was where he was supposed to be. His spear came around, also scratching the foe as they rebounded off of his shield. Shirou was behind him, arm outstretched and covering a bloody shoulder. Further behind him was a woman with red hair, a look of terror on her face.

"Master! I arrive!" he bellowed, deciding that to be enough to explain his purpose.

"I need your help!" Shirou explained. "She's trying to kill us!"

"Trying," he reiterated, turning his gaze upon the Servant that dared taste his Master's blood. "Past tense. Tried." He leveled his spear, the golden tip catching the last of the sunset upon it and shining brighter all for it.

Sitting upon a horse made of silver, or some kind of liquid was a woman. She was not dressed in armor, but a dress of quality so fine his era would not be able to make. "Oh? He was a Master!" She clapped her hands together, excited. "Even better!" Her hat was half the length of her body, in a bright coloration. Nothing about her seemed overtly dangerous, and the only weapon she seemed to have were claw like hand guards. Nothing to clearly identify her.

"Rider," he barked. "You shall not sully his skin ever again."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Her tongue was as silver as her steed, her condescending smirk reminding him of Xerxes's messenger. "He's defending a witness in clear violation of the rules. Do you really want to stop me?"

"Heh." Leonidas felt a small pride light in his heart. His Master was truly a man of honor, worthy of his respect. "I do. Come, then! Show me what you can do!"

The woman rose into the air on her horse, because of course it could fly. Her taunt went unanswered, as he just held his spear and waited. Not long, as the enemy summoned orbs of magical energy and threw them with all the precision of a child. Intended or not, he decided to see how painful one was on his shield. It hardly injured him, his partially divine blood protecting him. But more importantly, it protected Shirou. His shield flashed out three times, blocking all of her abilities. Magical fire burned upon the face of his shield, and he flexed once to put them out.

"Weak." He spat. "I've been hit harder by my own children!" They were Spartans, of course. They hit hard.

"I don't need to hit you to win, Lancer. I am not dependent upon my brawn." She smiled, before singing. Leonidas has fought many in his life but never someone whose voice was their weapon. The words were of a foreign tongue, but every single one struck with the force of a hammer. This was frustrating, as she was just flying around out of reach and attacking with her voice.

"Master!" he barked. "Brace your hands!"

Shirou held out his hands to provide a jumpstart. Not that Leonidas needed it, but this was for him. One of Rider's attacks bounced off of him, and he let go of his shield. The handle fell right into his Master's perfectly positioned hands, and Leonidas ran up the side of the large metal crate they were next to. With a mighty leap, his spear struck with all the power he could muster. A flash of light came from the horse of all things, stopping the strike but not his momentum.

The smaller woman was taken off of her horse, directly into the stone of the docks. With one of his feet crushing her neck, he had her. "Weak," he barked once again. "My wife would have broken you over her kne—"

Perhaps stepping on her neck was not the wisest of ideas. Leonidas finally identified the Servant just as he made this crucial error. Marie Antoinette's noble phantasm shot out, starting from her neck and flashing out of her body. "Guillotine Breaker!" She rasped. Shards of crystal shot out of every surface, seeking to destroy all. He could call his shield to him, and ignore the attack entirely. But that would mean his Master would be destroyed. Unacceptable. Unacceptable.

"Master, I don't—"

"Lancer!" Shirou yelled above the din. "I command you, as your Master! Win and survive!" Oh ho? His master was not afraid of battle. Mana flowed through him, and the spirits of his men appeared, called forth to serve. Every single shard of crystal was intercepted before it could kill his charge. Before all of them dissipated, Rider's neck broke. She was gone moments later, giving him a look of fury that hinted at fear.

The mana ran out soon after, and his men flashed back into the aether. Leonidas first recovered his spear, and walked towards the still held shield surrounded by shattered crystals. "Master." He whispered. "You saved us."

"You're too kind, Lancer. You did all the saving." Shirou said, looking pale. Yet he still held the shield with pleasing stature. "Taiga. They were after Taiga."

"Shirou!" The brown-haired woman started to berate him. Something about magic and worrying about him. Either way, Lancer sighed in relief. They had survived their first battle, yet at the cost of two of his Master's command seals. Shirou had but one left, and there were still five Servants to go. Leonidas could feel his body grow stronger in response to the overwhelming forces against them.

"Perhaps we should take Shirou home, so that he may recover." Lancer offered, stopping the woman's tirade. "And you can ask your questions of him there. I can better protect the both of you there as well." The din and noise of this Taiga woman was enough that it might draw other Servants to them.

{What we cannot defeat, we deny all victory!}

The final battle was clearly not a good match for any side. On the left side of the field was Shirou's supposed friend Shinji Matou, a regular Ephialtes. He had made some kind of deal with the man in charge of the Holy Grail War to gain command seals. His Servant was the most powerful in the war, once Berserker had been put down. She was a raging thing, hiding her identity behind a heavy set of armor. Berserker broke it, and they watched the Saber class servant reveal herself. Mordred, the Knight of Treachery. Dangerous in the hands of such an appropriate master.

On the other side was Shirou's more capricious acquaintance, Rin Tohsaka. Her Servant was powerful in his own right, as well. The man was some kind of Archer, though his identity couldn't be proven one way or another. Even so, he could fight in close range just as well as far, and could create shields to block attacks. He and Shirou had come across the battleground, as giant arcs of red energy were flying everywhere. Lying on the ground between both Masters was a third one. She was no longer alive, but in her hands was the grail itself.

"I can see it, Master," he called. "I can see the grail."

"This is it," Shirou said, shaking. "This is the end."

"Master," he stated. The mana coming from Shirou was barely enough to do much of anything. Fight, yes. Fight and then die. "I do not see a way to victory. Not unless both Servants are crippled."

"What happens if we stop them from fighting?" Shirou asked.

"The jewel still exists. So long as it does without an owner, the battle will continue."

Shirou took a deep breath. "Lancer, I don't want either of them to die. I don't want any more people to die."

"That was never your choice."

"It should be!"

"No man should play god." Leonidas put his hand on Shirou's shoulder. "No man should have his choice in how they live stripped from him. The men who play as gods are such that create heroes in the wake of the suffering they cause. To such a man, I would say molon labe, and defend me and mine." The Spartan looked down at the ground. "As our chances increase, my power weakens. Only when desperate do I stand a fighting chance, Master."

"Can't they just stop fighting!" the boy hissed.

"History would prove you wrong. If left untouched, one of these mages will kill the other and then come for you. And we would be unable to win for certain." Leonidas calmed his fingers, setting them back in the dirt. "You are a hot-headed young fool. This is our moment. This chaos is your only chance to seize victory. I ask you, Master," He met eyes with the young man, his helmet long lost in the fury of previous battles. "Will you seize victory?"

"Not if it means people will die. Not if it means one of them will be able to kill the other!"

"Either your dreams must die or you must watch one of your friends be killed. Decide." Leonidas could see the battle heating up further, as massive arcs of energy and power came off of the two Servants. Noble Phantasms were coming from both. "Shirou!"

His young Master looked upon the battlefield with concern. But he raised his arm. "By the power of my last command seal, I demand one thing from you, Leonidas. Let no one win! I don't want anyone to die!"

Shirou feared death. Not his own, but the death of others. He would have made a grand Spartan. With a mighty leap, Leonidas jumped in between both Servants as they released their noble phantasms. He did not jump alone. Other spectral warriors leapt with him, forming an angled wall for the energy to travel. Their shields formed a wall, curving so that both phantasms were turned, their focus upon a new target. The Grail itself, the cup of destiny. It had manifested. And now, with his men, he funneled all of the energy into that space. "Thermopylae!" He bellowed, bringing his shield down just as the divine and fey powered energies struck him. "Enomotia!"

The names of the pair of noble phantasms barreling towards him were also clear. Clarent Blood Arthur and Caladbolg. Both would kill him in their own right. But it was exactly what he wanted. His fingers lost feeling immediately, his shield rattling as the red and white energy converged upon him. His men were forming an unbroken line of shields, each standing strong against what was coming.

"Lancer?!" Both Masters looked up, shocked.

"You stupid sideshow! Move!" The Saber yelled, pumping more power into her attack. "You won't survive!"

"I am sorry we won't be having that rematch, Saber." Lancer said, letting the combined energies come over his spear. "Forgive me, but we of Greece understand the nature of victory and defeat far more than any other! If the only victory can come through death, then let mine be the death that decides the war!" His spear extended, letting the combined power of all three noble phantasms pour into its tip. "I am sorry, Shirou. I cannot keep your promise. But I will fulfill your will!"

The spear made contact with the grail, and he could feel his tether upon reality weaken, the energies burning his body as the object shattered into a thousand pieces. Only his Battle Continuation let him hold on a few seconds further. "Don't you see, Aristodemus? This time, my spear didn't fall short.." He whispered, watching as the grail disintegrated, and his soul was forcibly dragged into the aether alongside his foes.

"Hmph. Impressive," was all that Archer said.

"Damn. I wanted to trade blows one more time, you meathead," Saber said her piece. But it was his Master that ran towards him, looking shocked. Shirou was tearing across the still hot ground, and it was too dangerous for him to approach the magical energies.

"Leonidas!" Shirou yelled. "You did it!"

"This. Is." He could feel his legs leaving, his hold upon reality gone. "Sparta!" He declared with finality, holding his spear aloft as his body disappeared. If Shirou could not win, then he would deny all victory. This... this was his own wish. That his spear would finally strike the tyrant. As he went, Leonidas had a smile on his face. No one died. No lives would be lost for the sake of a destroyed Grail. Most of all, his Master would not have his heart destroyed by a war he was never asked to join. This was a death he chose. A death he could be proud of.

Hello again. It's good to see you. This is another chapter written by Aberron, so I'll let him do the talking:

"If you don't know what Molon Labe means at this point, take a gander. It's a solid part of our history and one of those lines you'll see thrown around even now. I just recently finished the Babylonia anime and decided that I would honor the man; the myth; the total chad Leonidas. When I saw his red hair under the helmet I was hooked on the idea of Shirou summoning him.

I don't think any of us are going to forget the year 2020. But I for one want to create some happiness and joy out of my 2020. May all of you readers find the same joy or hope in your lives too. I wish everyone well, in these trying times. Expect more amazing work from the gang of editors and brilliant writers here at Saga! We love you guys and look forward to your feedback."

Your ending theme is Spartan Warrior by Ryo Kawasaki.

Thanks for reading.