Author's Note and explanations at the end of this chapter. Without further ado, welcome to the prologue of Fate/Creed!

Saturday, July 23rd.

Michael Williams yawned and bid everyone good-night. Various replies of "See ya!" "Goodnight dude!" and the like reached his ears through his headphones. He smiled and logged off of both the game and the voice chat software he'd been using.

Michael took a last look at the "Character Select" screen before exiting out of the game. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table a few feet away. It read: "2:34;" he'd turned 17 almost three hours before without realizing it. He shook his head, thinking of his social media accounts.

"My friends'll have blown them up for sure," he thought with a chuckle. He stretched and yawned again, then got in bed. "Today is going to be great!"

He drifted off to sleep with his phone in his hand. He didn't notice the lights that twinkled in the corner a few feet away.

Saturday, July 23rd.

Michael opened his eyes, and stared ahead at the ceiling. Soft, yellow sunlight greeted him through the blinds covering the window. Birds chirped in the early morning air. He groaned and turned over, peeking out from beneath his pillow to see the time: "8:28." He'd gotten a whopping 6 hours of sleep.

Yawning, he stumbled out of bed, going through his morning mental and physical checks. Something felt... Off, but he couldn't quite place it. He remembered a dream with an old man. He remembered it as being important, but couldn't quite remember why. Brushing the thought from his mind, Michael grabbed his glasses of his desk and made his way downstairs.

The first floor greeted him with darkness, mellowed by the morning's light. It was quiet; unusual, but he figured everyone was still asleep. It was mid-July, and a Saturday to boot. "Dads probably still sleeping, and no one else will be up until later anyways," he thought. "Might as well start breakfast for them."

He grabbed a cup from the cupboard and made a glass of coffee. While it was brewing, he headed to the bathroom to wash his face and wake up. The suddenness of the cold water hit him, and he perked up a bit, the tiredness seeming to disappear from his eyes. He stared into the mirror for a minute. A tanned face, rarely seen by his eyes, stared straight back. A thin, but not overly so, face, with a strong jawline. Dark blue-gray eyes peered out from beneath his rectangular glasses. Thick, dark black hair framed his face, light stubble completing the circle to his chin.

He stretched, remembering what his mom and grandmother always said: "That boy needs to eat, he's too tall and thin!" "Mother, you've seen him eat, he's practically eating us out of house and home!"

With a chuckle at the thought, he left the bathroom to begin the task before him. As quietly as possible, he retrieved pans and ingredients from the pantry and fridge; bacon, flour, eggs, etc. Half an hour later, the mouth-watering scent of bacon and pancakes wafted through the air.

Michael heard footsteps in the hall. He called out, "I started breakfast already. Plates and everything are on the table, so go ahead and start eating."

"Thank you, young man! Nice to know not all youth these days are irresponsible miscreants." Michael stopped; the voice that had replied certainly didn't belong to one of his family members. It sounded like an old man. Perplexed, he cautiously picked his way towards the dining room.

Inside, a strange sight greeted him. Seated at the head of the table was, indeed, an old man. He looked familiar, but Michael couldn't quite place him. Summoning his courage, he said (in what he thought was an intimidating manner), "Who are you?"

The old man looked up from his pancakes. Michael breathed in sharply; despite the dim light, he could clearly see the man's eyes. They were red, startlingly so. Michael forced himself to look at the man's other features. He had dark, tannish skin. He was smirking; underneath that was a silver-white beard that grew along his jawline and met his hair, which was the same color. He was clad in black pajamas, and an old nightcap, like the kind you'd see in old cartoons, was atop his head.

"Come now boy, sit. It's not polite to gawk at someone this early in the morning!" Chuckling, the old man went back to eating his food and reading the newspaper laid out on the table before him. Startled, Michael stepped back into the kitchen and retrieved his coffee. He was a bit bewildered. He glanced at the clock on the microwave: it read 10:46. Everyone should've been up by then.

"What the hell is going on here?" he thought. Seeking answers, he went back into the dining room, carrying a plate of bacon and pancakes with him. He gingerly took a seat next to the man. He seemed to pay no attention to Michael, focusing instead on that morning's comics section. "He'll probably talk sooner or later. I might as well eat."

After eating, the man had finished his comics. Michael sat starting at him. The man looked at him oddly. "And here I thought you were polite, boy! Don't you know it's rude to stare?"

"You're the one who's in my house uninvited," Michael shot back. "Who are you?"

"Come now, don't you remember last night at all?" The old man said it with a mischievous grin, like he knew something Michael didn't. "You invited me here yourself."

"I don't remember you at all," Michael said, crossing his arms. "I demand to know who you are, right now!"

The old man leaned back in his chair. His expression had changed, and it somewhat scared Michael. A moment ago, he had seemed happy and cheerful. Slight anger radiated from him now, and it put Michael's skin tingling.

"I'd expect such a youngster as yourself to remember my name," he said with a frown. "I am Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, Wizard Marshall and the fourth of the twenty-seven Dead Apostles." He said it with a sense of matter-of-factness, as if to emphasis certain part.

Michael thought about it for a moment. The name was certainly familiar... But it was impossible. Zelretch couldn't be real. He was a fabricated character. He looked again at the old man; it explained why he looked familiar. "You can't be Zelretch," Michael said. "You're not real! You may look like him, but he's just a fictional character." This was becoming more and more odd by the minute. Zelretch smiled. The smile unnerved Michael. He didn't like where this was going.

"I'm perfectly aware of that, boy. I'm not real in your world... But then, we aren't in your world, are we?" He said it with a grin. Every time he did, Michael became more and more unnerved. He was becoming more scared, but more intrigued at the same time.

"It certainly looks like my world. This is definitely my house. That was definitely my room." Michael looked down at his empty plate. He wondered where his parents and siblings are.

"Look inwards, young man. Surely you can feel the difference." He still had that smile.

Thinking, Michael did notice a slight difference. His body was slightly sore; he figured he'd just slept wrong, or it was from the night before, sitting in his chair. "I'm a bit sore... So what? I probably just slept wrong."

Zelretch laughed. It was a pleasant sound. "My, you are a stubborn one, aren't you?" His eyes glimmered. "Let me help you out. Think of some sort of trigger, like.. Like a gun being shot or a sword drawn."

Michael thought it odd, but he figured he'd humor the old man so he could get some answers. He thought of something. His eyes roamed the room quickly, seeking inspiration for the image. They came to rest on a small case on the entertainment center, a game: Assassin's Creed. Shrugging to himself, he imagined a hidden blade. The arm in his mind stretched it's wrist, the hidden blade flinging itself out of it's sheath.

Nothing happened. "Nothing's happening. What the point of this?" he asked.

Zelretch smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Try again, young man. You'll get it, eventually."

Again, Michael envisioned a hidden blade, the wrist flicking back and forth to spring the blade forth and back. He looked inward as he did so, trying to find whatever it was Zelretch wanted him to find. He felt a small tingle in his spine, and he absently itched it.

Again, he tried. "I don't feel anyth-" Michael stopped, the words caught in his throat as a surge of energy seemed to come out of nowhere in his body and mind. "Wha... What is this?" he asked. He was shocked; it felt vaguely like he had a runner's high, but it was far more energetic than any he'd ever had.

Zelretch smiled. He made a small hand motion, as if telling Michael to find the answer himself. If this man truly was Zelretch... Michael had read of things like this, but they were only in fictitious stories. "Fictitious stories... That Zelretch was from!"

Michael's eyes grew wide. "Is this... Magic?" Zelretch laughed again. He clapped; the reaction seemed oddly childish.

"Yes, boy, it's magic! Well, not exactly - it might be magic to you, but it's referred to as either 'magecraft' or 'thaumaturgy' in this world. Very few examples of true Magic exist. But enough of that, you've just opened your magic circuits for the first time on your own!" Zelretch crossed his hands and set his chin over them. "So, how does it feel?" he inquired.

"It feels... Different. It's like a runner's high, but it's... It's far better. It feels good." Michael truly meant it. Even if this was a dream, he'd never imagined magic would be like this. "But if this is truly magecraft... Where am I?"

Zelretch's smile lessened, though not entirely. "I've already told you, young man. We're back in my world."

The conversation continued Michael asking various questions and Zelretch asking some of his own in reply. Michael learned exactly where he was, and what had happened; Zelretch had stolen Michael away from his own world, taking him back to Zelretch's own. In the process, he had given Michael magic circuits and even a magic crest, which he said had been from a extinct, long line of magi. He had given Michael hints to access it on his own, and said Michael would figure it out in time.

Michael was... Confused and hurt, to say the least. He remembered reading somewhere that Zelretch enjoyed tampering with things as he see fit. He also remembered bits and pieces of his power: Zelretch was the user of the Second Magic, allowing him to travel between parallel worlds, and thus bring Michael to his own.

Michael wasn't sure what the purpose of this was. He figured Zelretch was just doing it because, well, he could. Michael excused himself to clean up. He thought about it. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed he didn't know.

When he was done cleaning, he returned to the dining room. Zelretch was gone. It made sense; he was probably a busy man, and had probably only been here to humor himself. It seemed, though, he had left some last words for Michael. There were 2 packages on the table, with a note next to them. It read:

"Michael,

Open it up and see what's inside. I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun with what I've prepared for you. Enjoy it, and make sure not to kill yourself. The Clock Tower seems to think I do that to the majority of my students, for some reason.

Yours truly,
Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg

P.S. There should be enough cash for you to get yourself to get to Japan. I'm sure you'll figure out what to do from there! Make sure you study; it wouldn't do for you to be outclassed with your gifts!"

More puzzled than ever (he was beginning to think he'd always be confused where Zelretch was concerned), he opened up the first package. It was bigger than the second. Inside were about a score of books, each containing knowledge concerning various magical theories, spells, rituals, and the like. Michael's eyes widened; he was no magus, but surely this was a fortune where they were concerned.

He turned to the second package and opened it. Inside was another note, a few bundles of American currency, and something that looked vaguely familiar, a leather-backed, metal bracer. This note read with a simple sentence:

"I saw that game on the entertainment center. I figured this catalyst would match you perfectly! Make sure you have a good time!"

Michael examined the bracer more closely. It was about the length of his forearm. It was rusted, and parts of the metal on top had obviously been broken off. His breath caught in his throat. He recognized what it was.

Saturday, July 30th.

A week later, Michael readjusted his bags as he walked off the plane. He was finally here! He'd arrived in Japan not long ago, and now he was in Fuyuki City, the place where the Holy Grail Wars took place. His excitement was evident, and as near as he figured, he had about a year before the next one took place. He wasn't sure which one it was to be, but he already knew which Servant was his to summon. The problem was he wasn't sure how his summoning would effect to total outcome of whichever War he was to take part in.

He'd been reading the books Zelretch had left for him, which detailed the various theories and spells, incantations and rituals that existed. He was highly intrigued, and intended to read as much as he could; nothing like this information had existed in his world. He was delighted when he found a spell that'd help him speak Japanese. It'd made getting through things at his first stop exceptionally easier.

Michael put those thoughts away for the moment. "Right now, I need to focus on getting a base. I should find a hotel, and then look for an apartment," he thought. He stopped by the help desk before finding his way out of the airport. One of the ladies had recommended a hotel downtown. Michael hailed a cab and gave the driver directions. He looked out the window, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells. It was about 5:30, and the town seemed to be settling down.

When he asked how far they were from the hotel, something caught Michael's eye. The sign read, "Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel," and was situated a ways from a building in construction. He nodded inwardly; that meant he was a number of years from the Fourth Holy Grail War, which meant that he'd be taking part in the Fifth Holy Grail War. The thought excited him; he'd been excited to meet Saber, but this meant he'd be meeting Shirou, Tohsaka, and Archer as well. It also meant making allies would be exceptionally easier. The only one who might've allied with him in the Fourth War would have likely been Waver Velvet.

Michael was disappointed he wouldn't get to meet Rider, also known as Iskander, the King of Conquerors, but he brushed the thought aside. No use crying over spilled milk.

He signed into the hotel and brought his bags up to his room. Michael's thoughts turned again to the coming War. He was excited, but also scared. There was a very real chance he could die, or he'd have to kill someone. He wasn't looking forward to either option.

With a sigh, and those those thoughts in mind, he opened his laptop and began searching for a house or apartment of his own.

Friday, September 2nd.

Two months later, Michael opened his eyes. He groaned. His first day of school was today. He'd never had to wear a uniform before. It was an odd feeling for him. The uniform had looked exactly like he'd seen in the Fate/stay night, and it was more comfortable than he'd thought it'd be.

Enrolling for school had been an adventure in itself; apparently, school in Japan actually started in April, got out for summer break, and resumed in September, which was their second semester. It was an odd concept for him, where school started in September and ended for the school year in June.

He shrugged and rolled out of bed. At this rate he'd be late. It wouldn't do to make a bad impression. Especially since his first day of practice was today. Michael learned quickly; the Japanese put big emphasis on manners, politeness, and well, generally everything Michael needed to learn to integrate correctly. He groaned again and cursed Zelretch under his breath, not for the first time and not for the last.

He got ready and left, locking the door of his home behind him.

Michael walked down the street towards the school, Homurahara Gakuen. It looked just like he'd remembered. Anticipation swelled inside him. He was excited. He'd seen Tohsaka yesterday, though he hadn't talked to her. He didn't see Shirou, though he expected he would at some point. There were about 7 months until the Grail War began, so he expected he'd have to settle down and wait.

Michael planned to focus on other things in the meantime. He'd already joined the track and field team, among other clubs. He enjoyed running, and he looked forward to running with the rest of the team.

He walked down the hall, suitcase in his right hand, directions to his home room in his left. He was late; Michael expected to be. He had no idea where to go, and eventually found his way to his home room, and went in. What greeted him was something he didn't expect: Taiga Fujimura's antics.

Within two seconds of entering the classroom, Michael knew he'd be having an... Interesting time. He'd loved Taiga's antics within the visual novel and the anime, but he didn't imagine it'd be quite like this.

"Oh claaassssssss," she announced in an energetic, cheerful voice, "We have a new class member today!" Although embarrassed by her forwardness, Michael couldn't help but smile at the energetic personality she had. "Please welcome our new student... Michael Williams!" She said it with a flourish, leaning over her desk - a little too far. The next thing Michael knew, she'd overbalanced and landed face first over the opposite side of the desk.

For a second, no one moved or said anything. Then, the entire class was bursting with laughter, and Michael was carried along with it. From all corners of the room came variants of "WAKE UP TIGER!" just like Michael remembered seeing and hearing. Michael chuckled, unsure of how to handle things. Taiga quickly got up and berated the class for using her nickname. When things settled down, she asked him to take an empty seat. He grabbed one by the window.

Michael smiled and looked out the window. Things were going to be interesting from now on.

After school, Michael made his way towards to track and field. He'd talked with the coach, Takahashi Yamato, the day before. The coach had expressed interest in seeing his abilities. Michael was excited to test himself against the other students.

Coach showed him to a room where he could change, and Michael thanked him and got changed. It was refreshing to wear his old running gear; he'd brought his jersey along, which made him feel bad, but he wasn't in his universe anyways, so there'd be no chance to return it.

Michael laced up his shoes and headed out. The cool, afternoon air felt good on his skin. It was a bit warmer than he was used to - New York was a few degrees higher than Japan was. He jogged towards the track.

He talked with Takahashi for a bit. He explained what he'd done back in America, his events, times, and the like. He was excited to begin his training as soon as possible, but Takahashi wanted to time him for himself. Michael sighed inwardly, and went to the starting line. He had a feeling that he'd be dead tired by the end of the day.

Michael staggered his way home. His feet ached; he hadn't run that hard, that much in a while. He'd done ever test as well as he could, and he'd even broken a personal record of his, but he couldn't tell if Takahashi had been impressed or not. Only time would tell.

He looked forwards to a shower, dinner, and magical studies tonight. He was more tired than he'd been in a while. All-in-all, he'd had a very long day. He'd enjoyed it though, and he looked forward to the days to come.

Hey all, thanks for reading! I understand that some might find this sort of writing boring, but I promise that things will pick up soon! This is just the prologue, the lead-in. It was mostly to introduce our new protagonist, Michael D. Williams, his thoughts and feelings, so you all can get a feel for him.

In the chapters to come, Michael will meet both Shirou Emiya and Rin Tohsaka, our other protagonists. Events will not shift primarily to focus on the Holy Grail War until about Chapters 2 or 3, but I will give you guys this: We'll start meeting the Servants next Chapter!

Additionally, I'll be answering questions and comments in this section at the end of every installment, along with giving some "stats" and "parameters" on both the Masters and Servants, in the style of the visual novel-RPG that the Fate series originally was, along with my reasoning and explanations for such. The reason for this is that I wish to stay as close to the canon material as possible while writing Fate/Creed, and in the case of certain other things, real-world physics and thoughts.

This week will focus mainly on Michael. I'll detail his abilities as a magus, and will elaborate further on his and his Servant's appearances and abilities in later chapters' Author's Notes sections.

He's not a magus in the normal sense of the term, and is only able to use magic craft through Zelretch's interference:

Physical Statistics:

Height: 190.5 cm (About 6'3")

Weight: 84 kg (About 185 pounds; most of this is muscle mass)

Magical Statistics:

Magic Circuits: 35

Prana usage: About 15 times the average magus, about 375 units. Maximum output is 750 units.

Magic Crest: A gift from Zelretch, it is the relic of an old, extinct magi family. The Crest is located on his chest.

For reference, Tohsaka has 40 magic circuits (with 30 subs), and can do about 20 times the average magus, making her prana around 500 units, while her maximum output is 1,000 units. Shirou has 27 magic circuits, and has an average prana of ~20-30 units (each magic circuit can barely do 10 units, while becoming damaged in the process; this level of quality is odd concerning the amount of circuits he has). This puts Michael on an slightly above average level, but still far below the most powerful magi and Servants.

Elemental Affinity:
Wind and Fire. Slight affinity for Earth as well.
Some Reinforcement proficiency.

And with that, the first installment of a Fate/Creed is officially over! I'd like to thank DaItalianFish for help during the creation and editing processes - give their own stories a read - as well as my little brother, who helped shape the initial idea of my own story. Thanks again for reading, and keep an eye out for Chapter 2!