Welcome all readers, new and old. This is X the Reaper, and whether you've stayed with me from the beginning, waited until this point, or just got to the party, I hope you enjoy the following story.

At long last, the story of the Fifth Holy Grail War will be written. For a whole year I'm been writing to build to this point, writing the story of the Fourth War and even a sidestory connecting events between the two, and at long last I'm here.

Get ready everybody, because it's gonna be a whopper!

Disclaimer: Fate/stay Night is property of Type-Moon and its affiliated parties, and any other series mentioned in some form are property of their respective parties. X the Reaper owns nothing save this story.

Let's get on with it!

(Note: While this is technically a crossover with multiple anime, a good host of the Servants are from videogame-based series as well. Just want to get that out there).

Ten years. How much is that in the grand scheme of things?

To an existence like Gaia, ten years isn't even enough time to plan the end of the human race. For millennia, the planet has evolved to its current form, the World attempting to reach that point of perfection and fullness of existence. To the World, ten years is less than a millisecond.

To a Dead Apostle, ten years enough time to gain power and become even stronger. After all, as long as they sufficient blood and the like, they're more or less immortal to time's passage. It might even be enough time, for the truly determined, to become sufficiently powerful enough to challenge and kill their former master, becoming the new leader. For a Dead Apostle, ten years is a stepping stone to greatness.

To a human, ten years is enough time to grow from a child to an adult, or to fully realize untapped potential. A single year is enough time for a child to grow physically and mentally, to enter puberty, or to undergo experiences that will change who they are and the way they see the world. Even five years is enough time to finish high school, or college, and switch occupations, sometimes more than once. While it's true some humans can go fifteen or twenty years without changing what they do, human lives are normally in a constant state of flux. Even for an adult, looking ahead just ten years feels like a long time. For a human, ten years is life-changing.

To the beings within Holy Grail, ten years is time to review an infinite number of possibilities and probabilities, things that have happened, could have happened, and might happen; decisions that were never made and choices that can change the tide of future events. For them, who desired to live in the physical universe once again and fulfill their dreams, ten years is planning time that cannot go to waste.

To a war of magi and warriors of legend, on which the fate of humanity and the world itself will ultimately depend upon the conclusion of, ten years can be the difference between victory and defeat or, for some, life and death.

Within the Holy Grail

The space within the wish-granting artifact known as the Holy Grail is not a static place. It changes depending on those in control of it. Normally, it takes the form of a complete void, whose color depends on the 'mood' of its master. And while it could in theory change to more... vibrant or filled areas, the master of this space was too bored to ever try and make it anymore interesting.

The other occupant of this space would say that he 'lacked imagination or will' to try, but that would be tantamount to suicide as the main master had the strength to erase his very existence from this plane for good and had considered it at several points.

As of the currently, it was pure white with black lines spreading like cracks throughout the entire area. Earth and sky had no meaning, as whatever someone 'stood' on looked exactly the same as what was 'above' them.

Upon this plane, the being known as Prometheus sat in a crosslegged position, his crimson eyes shut as his mind reviewed everything that had happened up to this point.

The Fourth Holy Grail War had been a disaster. Ten years ago in the city of Fuyuki, Japan, in that battle for a miracle, seven Masters summoned seven Servants to partake in a battle royale to the death where only one Master-Servant team could receive the prize. Upon the deaths of the other Servants, the Holy Grail, not the true cup of Christ but rather a convincing manmade copy, would manifest, and the Master and Servant would have their heart's desires granted to them as their prize for victory, for the nigh-omnipotent device was built to serve this very purpose by three families of Mages called the Tohsaka, Einzbern, and Makiri (now Matou).

He chuckled. 'How blind they had been,' he thought to himself, 'but I suppose no one suspected a diabolus-ex-machina to arrive on the scene, quite literally at that.'

Unknown to all participating parties, the 'Holy' Grail they were fighting for was anything but. During the previous war sixty years beforehand, in the Third Holy Grail War, the irregular Servant called Avenger was summoned to battle. Known as Angra Mainyu, the Persian God of Darkness, in myth, he was in reality just a mere human boy sacrificed to bear the sins of humanity so it could be free of guilt. Unbelievably weak, he was slaughtered early on and entered the Cup. However, the Grail, a device meant for the purpose of granting a single wish, be it good or ill, identified Avenger as not a Servant, but a human, and so tried to grant his desire.

And so the weakling known as Avenger became Angra Mainyu, the Source of All Evil in the World, whose presence twisted the formerly pure Grail into a chalice of malice that would likewise twist any wish so that as much pain and suffering would be involved to fulfill it, before allowing Angra Mainyu itself to be summoned into the world to destroy it. It would not do so out of hatred or vengeance: Angra Mainyu the god and Avenger the Servant were created by the gods and humans for the purpose of killing them, the personification of the world's wish for a concrete form of all evil. All Angra Mainyu would do was fulfill their wish for death.

Of course, even beings like that need entertainment. After sixty years of being stuck within the Grail, the existence called Angra Mainyu had looked upon the warriors who would fight in the Fourth Holy Grail War and decided, on a whim of fate, that some of them could be changed. Using a power akin to the Second Magic, Kaleidoscope, the god of evil had searched the multiverse for four replacements to serve as the new Lancer, Caster, Berserker, and Assassin, and used them instead. On a further whim of boredom, he found another candidate for the title of Avenger that he himself once had and summoned him as an independent Servant without a Master.

He also summoned a fake Servant out of some of his corruption as a test of sorts, but it got eaten by Avenger, so the less said about that, the better.

It was also how he himself, Prometheus, came into contact with the Grail and ended up being AM's roommate, but again, that's a story for another day.

However, once again, in the end, the Fourth Holy Grail War ended without a victor... or rather, the chosen victor decided to cheat the system. While six of the eight Servants summoned were slain and it was enough to manifest the Grail, the Master of Saber, the man called Kiritsugu Emiya, learned the awful truth behind it all. Refusing to use it and despite being cursed by AM, he forced his unknowing Servant to destroy the vessel, preventing AM from being reborn. And while AM caused a great fire that took hundreds of lives in vengeance, it still resulted in Kiritsugu surviving, one of the other dead Masters coming back to life, and the Berserker-class Servant and her (living) Noble Phantasm gaining human bodies to live on after the Grail's destruction.

That should have been the end of it. The Grail would not be summoned for another sixty years. Kiritsugu Emiya, in his final years, set up traps to destroy the Fuyuki leylines and collapse the system of the Greater Grail, preventing another Grail War from happening within thirty to forty years of the end of the Fourth. The nightmare would be over at last.

However, it was not the end. Due to the stockpiled energy of the fallen Servants not being used at the last War's climax, the time necessary for the Fifth Grail War to begin had been cut down to merely a ten-year wait.

He opened his eyes.

And the time was nigh.

"At last, I'll be free of this godforsaken place," he muttered as he looked around. "and I'm gonna make damn sure I don't have to come back."

Leaving so soon? It's going to be pretty lonely without any company.

Prometheus glanced upwards. "Don't you still have that Irisviel chick to talk to?" he asked to seemingly no one. Not that it mattered. Angra Mainyu more or less was this space after all. "I'm certain she has things to say."

I wish, but she's dead and gone. I've got a memory replica of her, but that's only good for talking to others through, since I don't have a physical body.

Suddenly, a figure began to manifest in front of Prometheus' eyes, taking the form of a young woman of average height wearing a red and black dress. Her long hair as white as her skin, and red eyes stared into his own, lips curled into a knowing smirk that didn't seem quite right on her face.

"Heh, well whatever," he replied, standing up and not at all surprised by his 'friend's' manifestation. "I take it you already chose the Servants being summoned?"

"Indeed. I've kept a few who were going to be summoned into this war, took maybe one or two from who should have been summoned in the last war, and the rest are my own choosing." Angra Mainyu replied in the woman's, Irisviel's, voice. "I think you'll like especially who I've prepared for you."

Yes, not only had there been sufficient energy to cut the time between Wars down to ten years, there had been enough leftover mana to summon fifteen Servants instead of the normal seven.

"Can't wait to see it for myself," Prometheus replied. "Though I need to get to the real world first though."

"Yes, yes. Your class is the "Ruler", after all." 'she' replied with a sigh. "Can't start without you anyways. By the way, do you have a plan?"

Prometheus sneered. For ten years he had been stuck in this place, and during that time he had used the Grail's so-called omnipotence to watch alternate versions of the Fifth Holy Grail War with his own eyes. He had observed the events, noted the dangerous ones, what to watch out for, what to exploit, and who to avoid pissing off.

The image of one certain redhead destroying the Grail in at least five different timelines remained etched forever into his memory.

"Yeah," he told her as he turned away. "I've got a plan, and nothing'll stop us."

"Events will be far different this time around, especially with so many Servants," Angra Mainyu reminded him, 'her' voice suddenly changing to be more masculine, and also eerily familiar. "Simply the knowledge of the other timelines could result in a new one being created here, and we can't predict every possibility."

Prometheus turned back around. The person that greeted his gaze was only about his own height minus his helmet. A mess of long magenta hair flowed behind him, pale, almost sickly white skin visible where his clothing didn't cover. Said clothing was a white and gold restraining jacket, completely encapsulating his body and arms, leaving his white and gold pointed boots free to walk. Three massive black restrains with green locks in the center kept the jacket in place, with a similar black and green monocle covering his right eye. He had a handsome visage, but it was marred by the monocle and pale skin, and the visible left eye was completely black save for the red iris. One part of the hair hung over his face, somehow enhancing his image.

Still, Prometheus felt a massive level of hatred upon seeing this, and his grip upon his scythe tightened as he contemplated cutting AM down for daring to take his form. However, he reigned in that hate, collected it, saved it.

"And yet some things never changed," came his retort, deceptively calm. "I'll do what needs to be done. I won't fuck up like that crazy priest and his 'medium-aware' Assassin did in that one timeline. He lost my respect when he started believing there are some higher powers at work who determine the way everything goes. I'm not an idiot who relies on the helplessness of the heroes to succeed; I make things happen."

"...Very well. I'm counting on you Prometheus." Angra Mainyu said in that damn voice, that know-it-all smile on his face. "Do not fail me."

Memories of that particular line being uttered in his past life flashed through his mind, as well as what followed if he failed to deliver. He suppressed the shudder that threatened to rack his form, choosing to turn away. "Never intended to," Prometheus replied as his world became consumed in a flash of light. "I will win, no matter what happens, and I will take what's mine."

He disappeared, leaving Angra Mainyu alone. The Source of All The World's Evil stood there for a moment longer, then shifted to another form, that of a green-haired Man wearing a black suit and hat. He smiled, showing off his golden eyes.

"And of course, I finally get what I want."

Three Months Before the Holy Grail War (Fuyuki Church)

The man known as Kirei Kotomine, son of Risei Kotomine and priest of the Fuyuki Church, sat alone in his office after Sunday mass, indulging in a cup of tea before going out to eat tonight. His destination would be Fuyuki's Hongzhou Feast Hall, where he would indulge himself in his favorite dish: Mapo Tofu, the spiciest tofu in all of Fuyuki and the one that set his heart afire with desire.

Assuming of course, his heart was even capable of doing so.

The former Master of the Fourth War's Assassin hadn't change too much in the past ten years. He had allowed his hair to grow out into a long mullet, partly out of respect to his late father and partly because he couldn't be bothered to go back to his normal short hair. The lines along his face were a little more pronounced, and his one visible eye had lost some of the fire of his youth.

Of course, if one was to remove the priestly robes he wore, they would find his physical body was just as muscled and prepared as it had once been so long ago. And anyone who knew the him of the past would be pleased to note that he was just as capable, if not more so, than that even after a decade of peace. He had not slacked off his own personal training in the past years, and had instead spent them learning to fully harness the gifts he had been given in the course of the Fourth War.

It would have been such a tragedy to let such mighty abilities go to waste.

The sound of a ringing phone interrupted the peace and quiet, but instead of cursing the fact his precious food would be denied him for a little while longer, he answered the phone as any good person would: Pleasantly without a hint of annoyance.

"Hello?"

"Kirei Kotomine," came the voice on the other end. "I trust you know who it is you are speaking to?"

His brows furrowed slightly, but he answered neutrally enough. "...Well, if it is not the Vice-Director of the Mage's Association herself, Bartholomei Lorelei. To what do I owe the honor of this phone call?"

"Cutting to the heart of the matter already?" came her voice, now pleased, "Straight to the point, I like that. Well then, I believe you will be pleased to know that this call is the very same one your father received not ten years prior to this."

Kirei feigned confusion. "Really... I was under the impression that the next Holy Grail War would not be until after our time..."

"Hmph, tell that to the Enforcer who just came into my office bearing Command Seals, of all things, on her hand," came her sarcastic response, then it grew serious. "I'm calling because I'm curious to know if either of the Tohsaka children under your watch have been seen with them."

Now the confusion became genuine. A pause as Kirei thought back to the last time he had seen Rin and Sakura Tohsaka. "As of two weeks ago, no they have not. However, that does not eliminate the possibility that either, or both of them shall be chosen if what you are saying is true."

"...Fine," came the response. "However, the fact that Command Seals are appearing means that the next Grail War is about to descend upon Fuyuki. As asked of me by the Holy Church, I must request that you serve as the impartial mediator of the War."

"I shall if that is the Church's desire, but I was under the impression that a member of the Church itself would be chosen to participate as a Master in the War," Kirei replied. "If such a thing comes to pass, I assume that I should treat them as any other combatant?"

"Exactly," Lorelei answered. "...though to be quite honest, I'm not entirely certain we should trust you alone there. The last War ended in a clusterfuck, after all. If it ends up like that again, no doubt the Grail system will be disassembled completely, no matter the objections."

"Do not fear, Vice-Director," Kirei said with finality. "As the mediator, it is my duty to keep this War a secret from the public. I shall not fail."

"...We'll see about that when this is all over," came the reply. "Continue to monitor everything. You'll know when all the Servants have been summoned."

"What of the Enforcer chosen as a Master?" Kirei asked curiously. "She will need training to properly summon a Servant, as well as a relic."

"We'll take care of that," Lorelei responded irritably. "She has already found a teacher in the form of two of your fellow Fourth War survivors. Don't concern yourself with it."

"...As you wish."

The line went dead, no doubt from Lorelei's actions. Kirei reclined back into his chair, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

'Another Grail War already?' he thought to himself as he looked down at his right hand, currently covered by his sleeve. While there had been survivors of the previous War, only he knew of the full truth behind the Grail. The only other who did, the man that Kirei Kotomine would have considered a worthy opponent, was dead and had been for five years.

A burning pain interrupted his musing. Eyes widening, he watched almost spellbound as the back of his hand, still covered, suddenly erupted into a crimson light before dying off. Blinking for a second, he slowly moved the sleeve back, the sight before him enough to make him cover it once again. For a solid minute, his entire world seemed to stop, no stray thought wandering through his head as he replayed events in his mind, right to up to this point.

Pure coincidence? Chance this suddenly happened after speaking about it?

'Perhaps it is fate?' he wondered for a moment. 'Perhaps everything has been building up to this?'

A moment longer he sat there, then he pushed himself off his chair.

"It appears I will have to skip dinner tonight," he finally decided. "I have to prepare for the coming weeks."

Pulling back his sleeve slightly, he once again beheld the sight of the marks that had changed his life a decade ago.

Once more, the Command Seals of a Master shone upon his hand.

Two Months Before the Holy Grail War

It was a cold winter's day in Germany... actually, no, that would be putting it mildly; it was the harsh winter that would bring even the toughest men to their knees. The frigid temperatures, the deadly winds, and the constant danger of frostbite would put most out of commission within mere days. Even in the safety of the forest where there would theoretically be shelter, the dangers of wild animals such as wolves or bears who would not hesitate to devour human flesh if it meant surviving the same coldness laid at every corner.

This was the day that the homunculus Illyasviel von Einzbern was experiencing, being chased by ravenous wolves through the forest while carrying a stone slab with her.

To be fair, this wasn't exactly her fault: For the Einzbern, this was more or less a rite of passage. After so many years of losing the Holy Grail War (with the most recent defeat being the greatest sting of all), they would want nothing more than to earn a final victory and reclaim the fabled Third Magic, Heaven's Feel. To say that this was but the least they would do to succeed would be a gross understatement.

Ilya had her own reasons to fight this war though. Ever since her father and mother left her ten years ago, she had been waiting for their return like any good daughter would, and while she was aware she would most likely never see the latter again, at least not for a very long time, her father had promised he would return to her.

That had not happened. Her mother, Irisviel von Einzbern, had been brutally murdered and became the Holy Grail. Of course, that had been expected.

What had not been expected, however, was when Kiritsugu Emiya, her father, had ordered his Servant Saber destroy the Grail, dashing the hopes and dreams of the Einzberns. He could have personally punched them in the face and it would have been less insulting to their pride. And as a last 'screw you', he never even returned to the castle, opting to stay in Japan and adopt a son named Shirou.

It was this knowledge that Ilya had grown up with and had caused a deep seated sense of hatred within her. She hated Kiritsugu for breaking his promise to her and leaving her behind, her mother for dying (even if it was inevitable and necessary), and, most important of all, the boy called Shirou for stealing her father away from her. As such, she had one goal in mind.

Kill Shirou Emiya.

She knew that she wouldn't live long; even if she survived the Fifth War, she'd only have a year to live at best. Such was the curse of her unique birth as a homunculus. Still, that meant that all she had to do was win the Grail War. She would get the damn Grail and give it to the Einzberns, but not before she got what she wanted.

She suspected that Shirou would be a Master in this War. Odds were that her father taught him at least the basics of magecraft, and the fact that Avalon, the fabled scabbard of King Arthur, was missing meant it was still in Kiritsugu's possession.

No doubt, if her 'brother' was a Master, then his Servant would most certainly be the Saber-class Servant. To be precise, the spirit of Arturia Pendragon, whom she saw briefly before the Fourth War started.

Which led back to the present, with the young, pale-skinned homunculus in a tattered white dress running for her dear life from a pack of wolves holding a stone slab.

Under the threat of being eaten by wolves, she finally made it to her summoning circle, where she put down the catalyst and and began charging mana. The wolves intending to devour her hesitated, seeing her glow like a light bulb making them fearful for the instant she needed to perform the ritual.

Smirking, she began the incantation.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.

Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword.

In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

Yet, thou serves with thine eyes clouded in chaos.

Thou, bound in the cage of madness. I am he who command those chains.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――!"

The circle exploded into a cloud of smoke, energy and light crackling around her. She grinned, waiting for her Servant to appear from within.

By Ilya's logic, if she wanted to defeat the spirit of one of humanity's greatest heroes summoned into the most powerful of the Servant classes, then logically she would have to summon an even greater hero summoned into the next most powerful class.

And so, she intended to summon the legendary demigod Heracles into the Berserker class, and in most other timelines, this would have been the case.

Unfortunately for her, this time, the denizen of the Holy Grail had judged that Heroic Spirit to be... lacking, and so had chosen another more worthy in its eyes.

The smoke completely cleared away, and she got a good look at her Servant. Immediately, she realized something was up. While it was true that most legends about Heroic Spirits were hardly 100% accurate to the real deal, she still felt as if she would be able to tell the great hero Heracles at a simple glance, something that told her that the being before her was the legendary demigod hero and son of Zeus.

She wasn't getting that vibe, which was her first clue that something had gone wrong.

The Servant before her was humanoid in appearance, with tanned red skin covered in dark markings all over like tattoos and short, spiky white hair. He appeared to be in his late twenties to early thirties, and he was rather tall and well-muscled, though not to the point of being a 'hunk'. He was completely shirtless, wearing only ragged blue pants with red flame markings on them, and a golden sash that acted like a belt. Most curiously, his arms were covered in a strange gold-like metallic armor, as was his lower right leg minus the foot.

Most definitely not Heracles.

To her surprise, the warrior then knelt down in front of her. "I am the Servant Berserker," he said in strong voice, though it also sounded like he spent lots of time screaming as it sounded kind of scratchy. "Young girl, I ask of you, are you my Master?"

She blinked for a few seconds, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she had used a catalyst to summon a Servant, yet got one that wasn't connected to it, and got a Berserker who talked, to boot. "Y-Yes, I am," she replied, then she got angry when she realized that now that she didn't get Heracles, she wouldn't be able to crush Onii-chan like she hoped to.

No offense to her Servant or anything, but no matter what abilities he had, it just wouldn't be the same as watching Heracles swat Shirou and his Servant like a fly with his sword.

Before she could say anything though, she was suddenly aware of the growling of wolves around her as they began to lose their fear of the unmoving figure before them. Suddenly, her anger evaporated into something more akin to fear as she glanced about at the very-hungry looking wolves.

The Servant who called himself 'Berserker' then raised his head, opening his eyes for the first time. Ilya's own eyes widened as she got a good look. They were completely white, both the sclera and pupils with the irises practically nonexistent. She would have called him blind, but she realized that the pupils were a slightly reddish shade that allowed her to see them, and he seemed almost amused by her surprised glance, something he wouldn't have noticed if he was deprived of sight.

However, there was something about his eyes that was... calming. For a moment, she almost felt like she was staring at her father when he smiled at her, that warm feeling of fatherly love and protection.

"Then our contract is complete," he said, then stood up proud and tall, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he gazed upon the pack. "And as your Servant, it is therefore my duty to protect you."

Without another word, he suddenly vanished. Ilya didn't have long to ponder his disappearance, because the sudden bark of a surprised wolf, quickly followed by something smashing and breaking against a tree, quickly answered that question.

She simply gawked as she heard and watched the blur that was her Servant tear apart the mighty hunters with his bare hands. Disbelief quickly gave way to admiration as he slaughtered each and every one of them without mercy, tearing their bodies apart from the sheer force of his blows or impact with trees, some of which literally snapped from the power behind the impacts.

Suddenly, she found herself not missing Heracles very much. If nothing else, her new Berserker was certainly fast and strong enough to likely match him. And he could talk!

'Just you wait, Onii-chan,' she thought darkly as the last of the wolves tried to flee from the scene, only to become hunted themselves by her new guardian. 'You're done for without a doubt now!'

One Month Before the Holy Grail War (Archibald Family Home)

Bazett Fraga McRemitz stood alongside her teacher, Lord El-Melloi the Second (also known to his personal friends and colleagues as Waver Velvet) in the basement of the Archibald Manor. Before them, two summoning circles specifically prepared for the ritual had been drawn out onto the ground, with their respective catalysts before them on the two altars: A pair of earrings engraved with a strange rune for herself, and the remnants of a red cape for her teacher.

The young, magenta-haired woman was ecstatic, to say the least, though she hid it well underneath a serious exterior. When the Command Seals had first appeared upon her hand, she had been sent to study under a survivor of the last War, Waver Velvet, in order to prepare herself to summon a Servant. When she had been informed by him of the details of the responsibility thrust upon her, he had then asked her if she wished to give up the Seals and go her own way. He willing admitted that there was a very good chance she could be crippled, potentially killed in this battle.

However, she had gone through with it, her reasoning being... somewhat childish, she had to admit even to herself. Ever since she was a child, she had been enamored with the legend of Cu Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster and a legendary hero of Ireland, and had always wanted to save him from the tragic fate of his legend. Now, here she was, being granted a chance to fight in a War for a miracle, and thus the chance to fulfill her childhood dream had been thrust before her! She would win the Grail, and save Cu Chulainn from his tragic fate. Perhaps, even make his legend a little longer...

To her surprise, her teacher had not reacted with scorn or disappointment upon hearing this, but rather with... understanding.

"To save someone you admire from his tragic fate... I understand the feeling," he had said. "I too have a hero that I would give anything to save from his end, a chance to meet in person and talk to him again..."

She knew of who he spoke. She had been to several of his lectures, and had found herself astounded that the man before her became who he was with the aid of his Servant of the Fourth War, Iskandar, the King of Conquerors. As such, he could sympathize with her goal, and had decided to aid her, though he had been a hard task-maker, to the point of being almost insufferable.

However, to both of their shock, just one week prior to this, Command Seals appeared upon Lord El-Melloi II as well, marking him as a Master once again. That meant that the two of them would be ultimately opponents for this Grail War. It saddened Bazett greatly, for she had come to enjoy her time with Waver and his wife, Sola-Ui, another survivor of the Fourth War, and the idea of having to challenge one of them to a battle to the death just didn't sit well with her.

However, they didn't let that stop their training. If they faced each other on the battlefield in Fuyuki, then it would as equals and fellow magi. Until then though, they were still teacher and student, and so they continued her studies.

Now, here they both stood, ready to summon their personal heroes (for Waver, for the second time) into the material world. As one, the two of them held out their arms, the circles in front of them beginning to glow and crackle with power as they prepared to summon the Servants. As one, they spoke in incantation.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.

Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword.

In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――!"

The circles exploded in a flash of light and smoke, forcing the two of them to cover their eyes as the area in front of them cleared. Suddenly, they were aware of the sound of steel being drawn and clashing. Opening their eyes, they beheld two shapes swinging away at each other in the smoke.

"Whoa, where the hell did you come from!?" This voice sounded slightly scratchy, as if the user yelled a lot, but it was still somewhat deep and had an Irish accent. Bazett instantly knew who it had to be.

"I know not who you are, but a friend you're clearly not!" This voice though... it was deep and sounded a bit ragged, as if the owner was old or just thirsty for water. Strangely enough, he had a pseudo-British accent as well. Bazett was no master of identifying legends by sound alone, but that did not sound like the voice she expected of someone like Iskandar.

Of course, the time to wonder that could come later. Instead, both she and Waver lifted their hands and activated their Command Seals, both yelling a single word: "STOP!"

The two shadows did just that, their weapons at each other's throats. Finally, the smoke cleared enough for them to be recognized.

Bazett's eyes were first upon the one she knew was her Servant. He was a tall, handsome man, lean but clearly muscled, as his ultramarine skintight bodysuit with silver lines and steel shoulderplates clearly showed off to anyone looking at him. He had short blue hair, though it was tied into a short, thin ponytail in the back. He had piercing red eyes that matched both the color and sharpness of the red spear in his hands. This was without a doubt Cu Chulainn, the Blue Spearman of the Wind.

She would have been lying if she said her heart hadn't start beating faster as she looked at him, or that there wasn't a blush that was fighting to break out on her face.

Quickly, she turned her gaze from him to the other Servant. Immediately, she realized that this was one she did not know. Waver had gone in great detail about describing his Rider to her during their time together, and even a blind man could tell this wasn't the same person he described.

The Servant before her was tall and muscular, much like Waver had described Iskandar, but that was where the similarities ended. His skin was dark and pale blue, covered in bone-like gauntlets, metal greaves, and boots. He had a black cloak around his hip which had some dark metal plating on it, while his chest was bare and had a glowing green scar on the right side. His hair was long and black that fell down past his shoulders. Finally, his face was covered with a white bone mask fashioned in the form of a mouthless skull, with the eyeholes carved in the form of a glare. His eyes were the worst part though: They were pupilless and a glowing amber. In his hands, he was wielding a pair of dual-scythes, small enough to be used with one hand each.

Basically, the Grim Reaper if he had a six-pack.

She was broken out of her revelry by Waver's voice. "Now then, if you would both be so kind as to put your weapons down, maybe we can act like civilized beings."

Bazett blinked for a moment, then added her input as well. "Do as he says... please."

The two Servants glanced at each other, then at the Command Seals, and back to each other. It was Lancer, for there was no other Cu Chulainn could be, who spoke first. "Pretty sure the cute one's my Master."

This time, Bazett blushed.

"As I know you can only be speaking of one of them," came the sarcastic reply of the other, "then the man is no doubt mine."

"Well then?"

A pause, then the Reaper Servant said, "On three, we lower our weapons as one."

"I'm good with that," came the agreement.

"...One... two... three."

On the magic number, both pulled their weapons back, Lancer making his spear vanish, and Reaper making his scythes fold up to hang on either side of his hips. They still watched each other with suspicion, but that was to be expected. Both Waver and Bazett breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alright then, what are your classes?" came the inevitable question.

"I am Servant Lancer/Rider," came their equivalent responses. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Both Bazett and Waver slowly lifted their arms in reply. "Yes, I am."

The two nodded. "The contract is now complete," they said as one, then they glared at each other.

"So, what's the story behind this?" It was Lancer who asked that, though it was obvious that Rider was wondering the same question.

Before either Waver or Bazett could answer though, the door to the basement suddenly opened. Before either Servant could get the wrong idea though, a voice called down. "Honey, it's time for dinner! I'm certain Ms. McRemitz and your Servants will want something to eat tonight's over and done with!"

Waver sighed to himself. 'Thank you Sola-Ui, for your saving grace.' He then gestured towards the upstairs. "Shall we?"

After a brief pause, Bazett and Lancer went first, the two of them already managing to start up a conversation about their common Irish heritage. Waver lingered for a moment with his Servant, and a part of him felt... cheated, for a lack of a better term. He had been looking forward to fighting alongside his king once again, and now he had been denied that. He didn't blame his Servant of course; this warrior likely had just a good a reason to fight as Iskandar did... he just felt bad about not fighting alongside his king, even if he most likely wouldn't remember him, being a copy from the Throne of Heroes after all.

Briefly, he thought back to the Fourth War, where some of the Masters didn't get the Servants they were expecting, even when using a catalyst. Could something similar be happening again?

"Master," came the voice of his new Servant. "Is something troubling you?"

He couldn't let his personal feelings get in the way though. Regardless of whether or not he summoned Iskandar, he still had a Servant. His wish could still become true either way, and he had no right to treat his Servant any differently or as less than human.

Waver shook his head and gave his Servant an earnest smile. "No, nothing at all Rider. Let's go."

Rider seemed surprised by the kind reply, but then nodded.

"Haha! Beer!" came the shout of Lancer from up above. "It's official, I'm loving this world already!"

Waver rolled his eyes as he and Rider marched up the stairs to the dining room. The time for seriousness could wait. The time to enjoy oneself, to live out those last days of peace, was now.

'Do not fear, my king,' he thought resolutely to himself. 'I will win the Grail for your sake.'

And if it is corrupt? A part of his mind seemed to ask. After all, the last time something like this had happened was when the Grail had become nothing but a harbinger of destruction.

'...Then as my king's loyal retainer, I will destroy it personally.'

Two Weeks Before the Holy Grail War (Edelfelt Manor)

Luviagelita Edelfelt coughed as she got up from her collapsed position on the floor. Every since about two days ago when the Command Seals had appeared on her arm, she had been ecstatic almost day in and day out. Finally, for the first time since the Third War would the Edelfelts have the chance to win the Holy Grail War. She had spent the entire time between then and now researching the history and mechanics of the ritual and the results of the previous ones, and while most would see that as impossible, for someone which such high standards as herself it was but child's play. A battle between seven Master and seven legendary heroes would be truly something grand to participate in, and while she was painfully aware of the risks, she would go through with it regardless.

After all, it would also give her a chance to one-up the head of the Tohsaka family, her family's rivals for decades. They shared the same style of magic, and while her family was older, the Tohsakas had helped create the Holy Grail in the first place.

You can't beat an achievement like that.

She had also heard rumors that the Tohsaka head, Rin Tohsaka, was something of a prodigy, if a little maverick in her duties. She was expert at using firearms of all things, and there were rumors of her contracting with some sort of demon to give her unbelievable power. She didn't know how much stock to put into this hearsay, but she did know that if she wanted to win against her perceived rival, she couldn't afford to bring anything less than her A-game to the table.

As such, she had gone all out in her preparations. She had decided that compatibility was more important than any chosen Servant, and as such had ruled out catalysts. To compensate for a potentially weaker Servant being summoned, she had prepared the magic circle with several Prana-infused jewels at key points, some of the best her family could afford, and had sat there for hours, charging the circle with her Prana and chanting all the while. The heir of the Edelfelt would settle for nothing less than the perfect Servant.

Now that the summoning had been completed, she opened her eyes and waited for the Servant to appear before her. Her eyes widened as she got a good look.

He was a knight, his entire body surrounded in black armor, the only break in the color being the blue plume that stuck out of the back of his helmet. He was extremely tall, and from the way he carried himself in full armor was no doubt strong as well. He carried no blade in his hand, though it could be simply because he didn't wish to show it yet.

Slowly, the knight knelt before her. "I am the Servant Defender," came the voice, and while it echoed within the helm she could tell it was actually rather pleasant to listen to. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Luvia slowly stood up, then showed her Command Seals. "I am." Sheer surprise stole most speech from her tongue, the fact that she had actually done it still going strong in her mind.

However, something he said suddenly registered.

"Wait... 'Defender'?" she repeated confused. "That's not one of the seven classes."

Her Servant seemed to look... embarrassed? It was hard to tell under that helmet. "I cannot answer that, milady," he answered. "All I know is what the Grail has told me, and it says I am a Defender-class Servant. Forgive me."

She blinked at that explanation, then slightly blushed when she realized he called her 'milady'. "N-No, it's fine!" she replied quickly, though her mind was racing. An irregular Servant? What would this mean for the Grail War?

"You've done nothing wrong. Although... this might seem strange, but... could you show me your face, if you could?"

A strange question to ask, but Luvia was the type of person who liked to look people in the eye when she was talking to them. Having a conversation with someone behind a mask was somewhat strange to her. It implied that there was a sense of mistrust and lying between the participants, and if they were going to win the Grail War, it would have to be with mutual trust in the other.

The Servant was silent for a moment, then stood up, lifting his hands to his head and removing his helmet. She beheld a handsome face with long black hair and black eyes, a face that would no doubt swoon most women and make many men look on with envy. However the handsomeness was ruined somewhat by the sadness and regret that seemed to mar his features. It was... sad, and Luvia actually found herself actually growing saddened somewhat from his visage.

Defender seemed to realize this and prepared to put the helm back on. "Forgive me if I-"

"No, no," Luvia told him. "Please, keep it off. It's fine... you're fine."

Defender blinked for a moment before smiling slightly, and though it was still sad, it did wonders for his features. "As you wish."

Luvia found her own spirits lifting slightly as well. She had no idea what would happen next, but she did know she had a Servant, and irregular or not, she was still going to win this War.

"Well... let's go then," she finally said, beckoning her Servant to follow. "I believe it's high time for dinner."

After all, first impressions were everything in building trust.

Same Time (Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament Headquarters)

Caren Hortensia, estranged daughter of Kirei Kotomine, blinked as she watched the smoke from the summoning circle dissipate, waiting to get a good view of her Servant. Ever since the Command Seals had appeared on her arm almost five years prior, she had spent her days training to prepare for this day, whenever she wasn't on missions for the Church.

Caren wasn't like her father. Unlike him, she hadn't been born with magic circuits, meaning that she would have no way to effectively provide a constant flow of mana to her Servant. As such, under normal circumstances, having a contract would barely be enough to keep her Servant anchored into this world, much less allow it to fight effectively or for long periods of time. Her chances of winning the War were potentially the lowest of all the participants.

However, that was what the years of training were for. Under the tutelage of one Shirou Kotomine, apparently related to her father by adoption and not by blood, she had found a way to get around that problem. She had managed to craft a special Mystic Code called the Sanrei Glove, which in and of itself was supposedly based off a similarly named artifact that her teacher had obtained by, to quote, "going through a whole bunch of favors, plus needing the aid of the Wizard Marshal himself".

Regardless, it was a black and white glove, with grey lines all over it, that extended up to her forearm that she wore on her left arm, stopping about two inches from her elbow. Not much to look at first, but once activated, it glowed with several magic runes that served the purpose of gathering and absorbing Mana from the surroundings to serve as fuel the purpose casting Magic. When she first got it though, it had served the purpose of repelling said energy, forcing her to get better at actually sensing and absorbing Mana from her surroundings before she could effectively use it. Once she got past that phase, she could activate the Glove at will, forcing it to absorb Mana and release it in the form of blasts of energy, or even forming weapons out of pure Prana briefly to attack. It was also very durable, and even if it was damaged, it could repair itself by absorbing energy from the environment.

Of course, its true purpose was to serve as the main source of energy for her Servant, and while it was useful to an extent, it still paled in comparison to what a true Magus could do. Then again, it was better than nothing, and she was more than capable of defending herself in combat.

Still, her efforts had paid off, and she managed to summon a Servant. She had been a piece of wood as a catalyst, being told by her teacher that it was fragment of the Round Table of Arthurian legend. However, while whoever it summoned would definitely be a Knight of the Round Table, it would also be the one most compatible with her.

A part of her briefly wondered what sort of Knight would be compatible with her at all. After all, she was a young girl whose mother had died and had abandoned by her father when she was a child for 'her own safety' she had been told, yet had still grown up resenting him for leaving regardless. In fact, it had been to the point that she had done her best to distance herself from anything associated with her father, including his line of work being a Church member. Despite that, she had still been recruited, due to her special... abilities, and had excelled as a member to the point there was talk of making her an Executor or some such thing. She hated the attention, especially when it was comparing her to her father, another prodigy.

In fact, the whole reason she had agreed to being the Church's representative in the War was because it would be a chance for her actually confront her father for the first time in almost thirteen years and put those comparisons behind her once and for all. She would win the Grail and do what her father failed to do, and finally put it all behind her.

Her teacher was under the impression that this was simply her way of coping with the fact that her father left her and never came back, and thus was a way to deal with that resentment and show him what she could do. A way of showing he was wrong to leave her behind, if you will. She would publicly deny such a thing though, claiming that she was above such desires to prove herself to someone that was never really around.

She brought herself out of her musing when the smoke fully cleared, and she blinked as she got a good look at her Servant.

The Servant in question was indeed a knight. It was clad in red, wearing silver plate armor complete with breastplate, spaulders, gauntlets and greaves. An intimidating helmet with upturned horns completely covered the warrior's head, masking any effort to figure out the Servant's identity. The Servant was also rather short, perhaps only slightly taller than herself with the armor on, but still emanated an imposing aura that made it seem bigger and more deadly. In its right hand it gripped an intricately carved silver sword, which matched the red and silver scabbard by its side.

The two stared at each for a moment, then, instinctively, the Servant knelt on one knee, as if it was a knight before a princess, and said:

"I am the Servant Avenger. I ask you, priestess, are you my Master?"

In response, Caren lifted her right hand, showing her Command Seals. "Yes, I am."

Avenger then lifted her (for the voice, though muffled, could be no other) head. "Then the contract is complete. I shall be your loyal sword 'till the end of our endeavours together."

She then turned around, noticing the wooden splinter on the altar behind her.

And suddenly swung her sword, shattering it with a single strike.

"Accursed thing!" she roared angrily, then stomped on what was left with the full weight of her armor. "Never would have I imagined myself being summoned by this!"

"...A little extreme, wouldn't you say?" Caren asked dryly. While she was surprised by the sudden change in her Servant's mood, she still found the almost childish rage she was showing almost... hilarious. Still, that had been a priceless relic that her teacher had given her to use. "That was kind of important."

Her Servant turned back to her, seemingly satisfied with her extermination of the wood. "Sorry," she said in a not very sorry-sounding voice. "I just have... issues with the Round Table."

Immediately, the gears began to turn inside Caren's head. She had just summoned a Knight of the Round Table, a title most would hold with pride. Yet this knight had just destroyed one of the remnants of that legendary artifacts with extreme prejudice, and had been insulted at the thought of being summoned by using it. Even if the Knights had ultimately split apart, to find one that actually hated it and what it stood for...

In an instant, Caren realized the identity of the crimson knight before her, for there was only one knight in the Arthurian legend that would have such reasons to hate a thing synonymous with one of mankind's greatest heroes.

"Avenger... you wouldn't happen to be... Mordred, would you?"

Her Servant seemed to pause at that question. For a long moment, the two of them stood silent, then Avenger sighed. The face-covering helm split apart and merged with her armor, revealing her face. It was that of a youthful person, with the sort of face that could be mistaken for a girl or a effeminate boy. Green eyes stared into Caren's own golden ones, and her blonde hair was tied into a bun/short ponytail.

"It is as you say," she replied, seemingly embarrassed at the fact that her identity was discovered by just that simple action, though she answered with a resolute tone. Her voice, now no longer muffled by the helm, was actually rather beautiful to listen to. "I am Mordred, the one true successor of the King of Knights, Arthur Pendragon. Are you surprised?"

"...It depends," she replied. "If you're referring to the fact that you're a girl..."

Suddenly, Avenger's face took on a deep scowl. "Don't say that again."

Caren smirked slightly. "Say what?" For some reason, she was actually enjoying her Servant's annoyance. It was a force of habit of hers, getting under others' skins.

Avenger seemed to realize that she was egging her on and took a deep breath, getting a hold on her raging emotions. Still, her voice came out as a chilling growl. "Call me a girl again, and I will not be able to restrain myself... Master."

The glint in her eyes bespoke of her killing intent. However, Caren was not one to be intimidated by anyone, even if said someone had the power and will to carry out said threat. "Very well. I will endeavor to remember that from now on. You have my word."

There was steel in that response. Avenger recognized it and actually smiled, despite the anger still evident in her. It would appear her Master wasn't one of the gutless ones, and for that, she was grateful.

"Then I shall forgive you. And do not ever raise this topic again for discussion again. Remember that."

"...Very well. As I was saying, it's not so much your... gender," Caren said, noticing how her Servant seemed to relax upon usage of the neutral word, "that surprises me as it is your age. You appear at best to be no older than myself, most likely younger, yet you are really the knight that led the rebellion against King Arthur and ended the kingdom of Camelot, ultimately fatally injuring him before sucumbing to your own mortal wound. It's... interesting, to say the least."

Avenger chuckled. "There is much about me you know nothing about, Master." A quick glance at the Sanrei Glove. "Though I suppose the same can be said about you to me."

Caren smiled slightly. "Then we have much to discuss, don't we?" She then held out her hand in a clear gesture of welcomeness. "As your Master, Caren Hortensia, let me be the first to welcome you to the modern world."

A twitch of the lips was Avenger's reply. She then took the offered hand, shaking it firmly.

Caren tried to avoid the thought that she could crush her bones like paper if she wanted to.

"I'm honored," Avenger replied, then suddenly looked a little awkward. "...So, what now?"

Caren glanced behind herself, looking at the clock over the door. "I believe supper is in order," she finally decided. "Hungry?"

"If you insist."

Caren didn't ponder the ramifications of summoning an irregular class as she and her Servant began to leave the room. After all, Avenger appeared in the Fourth War as well, so perhaps it was just becoming a tradition or some such thing.

No, what was on her mind was the fact that of all the Knights of the Round Table, apparently Mordred, the Knight of Treachery herself, was the one most compatible with her. Mordred had been the greatest and final villain of the Arthurian legends, the result of the infidelity between Arthur and his own sister, Morgan, who desired to become King and surpass her father, only to be rejected by the former and driven to madness at the belief that she would never be recognized fully.

Kind of like her, actually.

Caren stopped walking when she made that comparison. Avenger, of course not privy to her Master's thoughts, looked at her in confusion.

"Are you alright Master?"

Caren shook her head. "I'm fine Avenger... let's just keep going."

Either way, her hard work had paid off. She had a Servant, and now she was going to enter the Grail War.

Yet why did a part of her keep whispering that everything up to here had been the easy part?

And that's the end of the first part of the prologue of Fate/stay Nightmare.

I kinda cut it short, I know, but it was starting to get a little long for my tastes. Unlike the first, which was just sort of floating on whatever I could think up of to mash with canon, and the second, which I quite literally wrote while running on nothing but imagination and hammering the ideas into a semi-coherent plot, this one I've actually created an outline of what I want to happen.

Don't worry though, I'll get up the next part soon enough, and now you've seen a few of the Servants that will be appearing in this war.

Kudos to anyone who can figure out who at least some of the them are! (I know that at least several are canon characters, -I'm gonna be the first to ever only replace some Servants while keeping the old as comparisons, because be damned if Lancer and Saber of Red weren't badass in canon- but still, I want your feedback.)

Also, some people are probably curious about the new Servant classes and what is required to be summoned in them. So, here you go (this idea was actually based off one Sakurada Kiritsugu, save for one Servant, so kudos!)

Defender: Servants who will put themselves in harm's way for the sake of others, or who swore to always be a loyal vassal to a leader no matter what. Even ones who break that oath are eligible, as long as they regret it.

Conqueror: Servants who, as the name suggests, were great conquerors in life. This can extend from actually building an empire, overthrowing a kingdom, to even earning great renown as a victor of many a battle and war. (Replaces Sage class, which was essentially a more frontline-Caster.)

Slayer: Servants who earned renown by slaying powerful beasts or even deities in their life.

Fallen: Servants who were never depicted as heroes in life, were once heroes before falling from grace, of a darker nature, and/or meant well but were ultimately seen as monster or abominations.

Rounding off the remaining fifteen Servants are the other four extra canon classes: Avenger, Beast, Saver, and Ruler.

Anyways, I hope you guys will enjoy my most recent (and hopefully biggest) endeavor into writing yet! May you all wait with anticipation!

Remember, review, favorite, and follow people! Look up my previous stories 'Fate: Zero Sanity' and 'Fate: OSG' for more background info, and if you want something just totally out there, look up my 'what-the-heck-was-the-author-thinking-when-he-wrote-this' story, 'Rainbow Dash's Five Nights at Freddy's'. (...I know, I thought the very same thing when I first started writing it.)