AN: I'm not surprised by the lack of reviews I've gained with this story, It's not necessarily going to get many because of it only being combat scenes right now and I know and understand that, that will be remedied at some point, hopefully before the next Summer's end. Regardless, This is the final part to this story, and I don't expect many of you to… enjoy what I had for this ending, but I thought it a fitting end for a Fate fiction. So without anything further, I hope you enjoy

Disclaimer: The Fate series belongs to Kinoko Nasu, while Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, the character Blackwing belongs to Lupine Horror, the servants 2nd Saber, 2nd Berserker, 1st Caster, 1st Archer, 2nd Lancer, 1st Assassin, 1st Rider and Ruler and any other characters from Dreaas belong to me.

Fifteen days after the start of the 5th war-

The café's atmosphere was… tense to put it mildly, the only good point being there were hardly any other customers to notice at this early in the morning. The First Rider and his Master had been enjoying a break from the War, with the latter trying to understand her Servant by asking various questions about himself or his past, to little success on either topic. Halfway through their cups another Servant arrived, the newcomer and Master tensing when they caught sight of one another while the Rider merely beckoned the First Saber over to join them, his usual melancholy limited to his half-lidded eyes. The lone male kept his smile in place as the other Servant sat down and looked directly at him, words spoken the moment she was seated, "Good morning to you, King of Knights, how was yesterday?"

His reply first came with a narrowing of eyes and a slight frown marking her face for a second before she settled back into indifference, the Rider's Master becoming uncomfortable as silence stretched on for many seconds until finally she spoke tersely yet politely. "Good morning to you, Rider. I have no wish to speak of last night's events, do not ask of the subject again." The Rider simply tilted his forward in acknowledgement to her words, staying silent as another cup of tea was placed in front of the Saber by a server, not bothered by the silence as his Master was. "I wish to ask a question of you, as a foreign king to a foreign knight, if you would indulge me."

Two seconds given to think before the Noble gave a nod in response and waited for the King's question, uttered after a short sip of her tea, "From what you know of my legend and myself, do you believe that I was the best choice for my kingdom?" A light chuckle was her first answer, the sound unexpected to her given the serious nature of her question, yet she waited passively for the Knight to still and answer her, unwilling to possibly sway an honest opinion of an outsider. After three seconds he stopped his small bout of laughter, setting his cup down on the table before taking a breath and closing his eyes, finally beginning to give his answer when his eyes opened again.

"As a King, you are undoubtedly amongst the greatest. You would sacrifice all that you are and were to make sure your people remain safe, including your connections to humanity, your emotions and dreams. As a Human, you are amongst one of the worst examples. Humans allow emotion, ideals and dreams to guide them on their paths, and you forsook two of those three to lead your people. You… are a great king, and your reign was perhaps the greatest of any kingdom, despite it falling shortly after your death, yet… as a human you could not connect with those you ruled over, and you drove many of your knights and people away, including the one who you may, or may not recognize as your blood." The man paused for the moment, taking another breath as well as waiting to see if the Saber would give a response to what he had said, receiving only a slight motion to continue on.

"I have only seen two kings in my short lifetime, both of which put their people before themselves, similar to yourself. However, both kept what little humanity they could remotely call their own clutched tight, they kept their emotions close, savored their small dreams and were led onward by their ideals of protecting their family and people. They were not as perfect as you when it came to being a King, nor did they care about what they considered trivial, they made mistakes as all humans and those like them are inclined to do." A shake of his head removed distant memories of both kings from his life, his tea picked up again and sipped lightly before he finished the last part of his answer.

"You were a great King, Arthur, out of all the possible choices your kingdom had for a king, you were the best choice, with the next best choice being the one many call the Knight of Treachery in my eyes." Barely he heard the light clack of the Saber's cup setting down on the table, his eyes first moving to the now-empty cup then to the peaceful-looking King seeming to be in great thought over his answer. Slowly she opened her eyes before standing up from her seat, giving a nod of thanks before leaving him and his Master to themselves to continue their prior conversation, seemingly satisfied with the answer she had received.

Both Riders stood across from one another, their Masters at their side willing to stay with them for the coming battle, an air of cheer and melancholy surrounding the four individuals as they drew their weapons. The Second among the two Riders let out a chuckle while his blade was pointed towards the ground in between them, the First moving slowly to take a kneeled pose with his sword embedded in the ground and hands upon the pommel, "You never did answer me the first time if you would accept my offer of friendship. Would you mind answering before we do anything further?" A brief period of silence passed for ten seconds before the First Rider rose from his kneeling, right hand gripping the hilt and pulling it from the ground to lazily point at the other Servant, a sad smile in place with eyes closed.

"I promised my Master that I would serve her until my second death comes to pass, besides that I told you and several of the others what I wished of the Grail, and that takes precedent over everything except the wellbeing of Master." The Greek Conqueror nodded his head twice before focusing back on the First Rider, a cheerful yet sad smile adorning him, his blade dropping to point at his feet before it was raised suddenly without warning, an air of mystery surrounding him as he began to speak. "That is too bad other Rider, I wish it hadn't come down to this but let us begin our fight…" A heavy wind blew through the street from behind the Second Rider, ruffling the cloth each individual wore as prana became dense enough to feel, the Conqueror-King letting out a shout to end the words he spoke moments earlier, "Ionioi Hetairoi!"

A sphere of light expanded outwards from the cheerful king, engulfing the area around him and four beings before depositing them in the desert of mysteries and secrets, only one among the four going into a slight shock at the sight of the Reality Marble. The clanking of metal sounded out as the King's army approached, cresting over the dunes and letting out cheers and shouts as they spotted their friend and king, the man mounting his beloved steed as it was brought to him. The young Magus took three steps back upon seeing the army, her Servant simply moving to kneel once more, the sword planted firmly within the shifting sand as he began to whisper into the air, "You who followed me to Death's embrace, I ask of you, will you help me this once so that we may have a chance of redemption?" Silence was all that greeted him, then the cheering and shouting stilled from those of the Conqueror-King's army while the Servant himself held a semi-surprised expression on his face, the girl turning around to find something that chilled her more than seeing the army of red and silver.

Black and blue armored figures filled with despair and melancholy stood like statues behind the Noble of Ronde, rectangular shields held in the left hand with swords and crossbows held in the right, not a sound uttered from them or their armor as they waited for orders. The man rose from his place upon the ground, walking back towards those he led both in life and now in death before he stopped suddenly upon noticing the 'stallion' directly in front of the front row, the beast unnatural in both color and existence. Its skin was predominantly blue with black markings along the face while white markings marked where the bones where underneath, its tail and mane colored violet with red tips while the creature was smaller than most domesticated horses, in length, height and girth. A sigh left the knight as he reached the horse, left hand brushing against the neck of the horse before he once more whispered to the Phantasmal Creature, "Hello old friend, are you going to allow me on your back again?" It gave a snort before bowing its head slightly, another sigh leaving the man before he climbed on top of the horse, riding bare-back like he had every other time in this life and the last.

"I'm sorry Master…" The voice was unexpected to be addressed to the Edefelt heir, the teen looking over at her Servant as he gave her the sad smile he was known for, an air of weariness and resignation settling around him as he cut off any response he could have gained. "I'm going to die by this night's end no matter the outcome of this battle, simply being on this horse has condemned me just as it did at the end of my first life, and for that I am sorry. Sorry for leaving you behind so soon, sorry for making you put your trust in me to win, sorry for making you give up your wish for my own… I'm so very sorry Master."

Five seconds passed before the heir composed herself enough to speak, face hardening into a emotionless mask that almost covered the girl's sadness entirely before she gave a simple shake of the head. "You have no need to be sorry Rider, just… win this last battle so we can part on peaceful terms. And if you die before then…" She trailed off as she caught sight of a trickle of happiness in his gaze, the man giving her a nod before beckoning her to move away as to not get involved in the crossfire, the First Rider looking back across the sands as a yell resounded through the air, answered by a roar and the rustling of armor moving.

A low whiney was the only sound mustered from the Endakai, their sole horse rearing up before trotting forward, the men behind it moving forward in concert like one would imagine from machines going to war rather than humans. Bows and crossbows were raised into the air, the weapons held at the ready on both sides before they were loosed, the projectiles becoming nothing but black dots among the clear sky, eventually nearing the ground again to rain upon the two contrasting armies. Pained shouts and screams echoed out for mere seconds before they were silenced, those among the army of the Conqueror-King stumbling or falling to the ground before fading back into prana while those of the Endakai collapsed to the ground, the air around the soon to be corpse turning cheerful for the split-second before they too faded back into prana.

The army of blue and black stilled, the front row kneeling down and rotating their shields ninety degrees to form a short wall of metal hardly two feet tall, while those behind leveled their unfired crossbows at the advancing army of red and silver. Another whiney left the unnatural horse as it reared up again, bolting forward the moment it touched the ground towards the army with its rider, a concert of twangs ringing out as the bolts were left to fly into metal and flesh. Bows were nocked and loosed, javelins hefted up and thrown in retaliation, soldiers falling silently among both sides to disappear back to their respective afterlife, a warcry let out from the head of the Conqueror's army followed by an answering roar, the King riding out to meet the Noble half-way.

Steel flashed out from both Servants, white and grey blurs meeting with a resounding clang before they rebounded back, both horsemen continuing on towards their opposing army unheeding of the leveling of weapons to deter them from continuing. Another warcry tore from the Second Rider's throat, his beloved horse leaping above the 'wall', those behind it moving to meet the Heroic Spirit losing their heads from the short spatha lashing out, the Servant wheeling his horse and charging into the center of the 'dark' army. The King's opposite simply allowed his horse to lead him where it wished, the creature's body phasing through every weapon that tried to kill it while its rider deflected the weapons away from his body, twice pointing his weapon at a man before twitching his finger, a crack followed by smoke erupting from the hilt before the target fell into prana from the shot to the heart.

The army of the Conqueror-King kept advancing despite the Servant in their ranks causing chaos and the occasional death, still firing and being fired upon by projectiles whose number blacked out the sky for a single second with each volley, the men reaching the 'wall' and beginning their fight in earnest with their grief-filled enemies. Spear punched through armor, sword cut through flesh and wood, shields were bashed into other beings as well as used to protect their own owner, metal ground against metal, wood struck hollow and shattered into fragments, bits of clockwork machinery destroyed after repeated blows.

A single minute went by in what felt like only a sixth of the time, ending with almost a full ten thousand gone in the battle, another two thousand five hundred lost to the missile rain of both sides, the sands slowly becoming home to a sea of red tinted with violet. Both Servants ran amok among one another's army, the King of Conquerors losing his horse to two well-aimed bolts shortly before he decapitated both crossbowmen, cheerful enthusiasm still kept despite the beings he fought alongside his friends. The First Rider still was mounted upon his steed, every attempt to kill the creature met with failure and a strike killing the attacker, three cartridges spent firing into the discouraged men before he wheeled his mount back and galloped back to his own army.

Another man was cut down by Iskandar, the hero turning to find his immediate area void of foes until his opposite rode up on his unnatural horse, proceeding to dismount the Phantasmal Creature whereupon it vanished from existence. Sad smile met cheerful grin, a kick of dust from where both were prior as they charged without any words spoken, sand parting as the pistol-sword's tip touched the desert earth while the spatha was held aloft. Yet another warcry tore from the Second Rider as they both swung their weapon, sparks flying into the air alongside the ring of steel as metal met metal, both swords rebounding from the contact before moving to come from the opposite side. The First's shield rose up momentarily, ground upon by the short sword as his own blade moved to cut through the King's right shoulder, a small step back leaving only a minor gash along the flesh followed by a step forward along with a large amount of strength before the shield was pried from the armor and sent flying a short distance away.

A leap back by the Knight in an attempt to gain distance was for naught, the Conqueror-King keeping up and continuing to attack only to find each strike deflected with little effort. One slash found itself overextending the Second Rider, right hand flying away from the Knight with the sword held barely between the fingers, the pistol-sword rising into the air before falling straight down, a spray of blood splashing along the First Rider's face and right torso while a light muffled thud was let out as the left arm hit the ground. The Servant of Gaia backed away slowly, the smile found on his face both sad and happy as his and his army's Reality Marble faded away alongside both armies, leaving both Servants and Masters alone in the house-lined road illuminated only by the streetlights spaced infrequently.

A moment passed then ten before they both relaxed, simply standing across from one another as their Masters came forward, the Magus of the Clocktower getting into a conversation with his King while the Edelfelt heir merely stood beside her Servant, locking her gaze with his and saying only one sentence. "Don't forget your promise Rider… stay alive until the end of tonight." A nod was her only answer alongside a pat on the head, quickly gaining an indignant look from his Master, the Knight switching his sword to the left hand before holding it out to point at the other Servant. Chuckling sounded out before becoming short-lived laughter, the wounded Servant leaving behind his crying friend and subordinate, letting out one more cry as he ran forward without any hesitation.

The distance was crossed in seconds, time seemingly slowing as the Second drew closer to the first, the latter reaching to his left shoulder with his free hand and grasping the white cloth hanging from his shoulder, tearing the cloak from its place and throwing it in-between the two Riders. No movement was made until it reached a meter between them both, a swing sent out diagonally with the spatha tearing through the fabric before slamming against metal, two halves separating on either side of the crossed swords. A light amount of strength was applied to send the pistol-sword back towards its owner, the smaller sword darting forward into a parry whose result nearly mirrored the earlier avoided attacks, a quick recovery managing to return the sword in time to block the blow aimed at his neck.

A sidestep made by the First allowed the Second's blade to pass inches away from his body, his own weapon rising to chest height parallel to the ground before it was sent forward, the King attempting to block the stab as it neared his form. A single second passed by indiscriminately, silence playing its unheard melody before it was interrupted by a splash of a droplet hitting pavement. Another droplet of red liquid fell from the stained white blade, rivulets of blood slowly collecting at its tip before falling off into the tiny pool below, a pained chuckle came from the larger man, blood leaving the left corner of his mouth much like a tear, before a simple question was asked of the Knight, "Why didn't you use the last bullet in your sword to make sure I died, just as you and the Berserker said you had done at your ending?"

His reply was quick to come as he slowly drew his sword from the other man, blood twisting and curving along the surface as gravity beckoned them down, taking a single step back as the blade was fully removed from the King's body, "I will not desecrate another body of a human about to die… Even if it means they must suffer a short time longer, I will not shoot a bullet into a dying man's body." The sword was placed back in the First Rider's right hand, the relic allowed to slip through his fingers as he closed his eyes and gave a bright smile, clattering against the ground to the confusion of those around, the object dissipating into motes of blue light seconds after hitting the ground. Still smiling the Knight sat down, joined by his dying enemy whose eyes held a saddened knowing light to them, "… To think… Prana exhaustion was how I would die."

Those words froze his Master, the girl jumping at the clatter of her Servant's left arm completely faded away, the armor staying long enough to hit the ground before disappearing as well, the right hand holding a simple cup that was given to the King of Conquerors. "I very much wish we had met in Life, or even I had known of you Iskandar… I do believe I would have taken you up on your offer had we been not fighting for the Grail…" A nod was his reply, the Conqueror downing the entire cup in one go before giving it back to the Noble, both keeping their smiles despite their bodies both now disappearing back to the Throne. "That makes me happy to hear, Kizuko of Ronde, perhaps another time we can fight beside one another…" The great man's head dipped slightly eyes closing as he did, once more Iskandar died.

The First Rider watched as his counterpart's corpse faded away, his right leg and armor collapsing into prana as well before he beckoned his Master forward with his remaining hand, "I kept my promise Master… Is there anything you require before I have to leave?" A twinge of sadness went through her being, bringing a hand to his arm and slowly moving it back to his lap while beginning to kneel down, slowly shaking her head as a tear welled up in the corner of her eye. "No… no I do not Rider… And thank you for keeping that promise." A nod was his only reply, relief apparent in his features as the words were spoken, his eyes closing for a moment before opening again to look up at the cloud-covered sky, letting only a portion of the moon's light through.

"I see… Then I guess it is time to say goodbye… Master… Take care…" His emerald eyes closed for the last time on Gaia's world, his form rapidly disintegrating into motes of prana that swirled around the Edelfelt once before moving upwards into the sky, Kizuko still completing every one of his promises made. Luvia made a slightly startled jump as she was brought back from watching her Servant's remains by the Lord El-Melloi II approached her, staring up as the two streams of prana from both Servants faded entirely, speaking with a wistful tone before gazing at her. "You wish that he could have stayed with you, don't you Edelfelt?"

A nod was his only answer, a hollow laugh leaving him before he took out a cigar and lit it before turning away, walking down the street only three meters before turning to regard the other magus, "Well, I don't suppose you should stay in the street until morning, you're welcome to leave back to your mansion or come along to continue this one-sided conversation at my humble home." With those last words the man kept walking, leaving behind the girl who picked herself mentally and left as well in the opposite direction, none but them allowed to witness the skirmish of two armies completely different from one another.

The world was soaked in the blood of thousands, a myriad of color staining the monotone white and black grass into something beautiful, it was angry as the skies were lit pink from the setting sun, clouds grey and crackling with unrestrained lightning and thunder. This was not a battle, nor was it a massacre or genocide, it closest resembled a war meant to be fought and ended in a single day, four among the nations of Dreaas sending their troops to fight against the Outcast-King and his family of twelve brothers and sisters. He was the only Noble who had come from the Endakai, the others consumed with grief over the betrayal of trust they had committed, even he felt it yet he was bound to duty first before his own desires, riding forward atop the damned horse until he reached the battle.

He dismounted the charger, patting its mane slightly before moving forward while drawing his weapon, he and those who followed him moving towards the great melee ahead, intent fully on completing their task or perishing in the completion of it. Time lost meaning the moment he entered the battlefield, walking atop the corpses piled unnaturally to hide the grass, past the men and women rushing to fight one member or another that remained of Kodomo's family, through the flames of azure, emerald and ruby. The only one he was even remotely willing to fight was the King himself, and that was only because of the duty that bound him.

He found him after only what felt a short time walking straight ahead, cutting down another even with a dozen whole weapons impaled into him with arrows numbering in the dozens making him a human pincushion. The sword he carried was raised, aimed at the boy's chest and allowed to belch fire and smoke, sound of metal ripping apart flesh sounding alongside that of blood splattering along the armor of corpses. The Monster that Protected turned, his hood down so the content pale yellow eyes stared directly into melancholic bright green, before stumbling almost drunkenly forward, only a quarter of the speed that was normal of the child. A clumsy slash was deflected to the side, his sword arcing to block the returning swing swung at 'normal' speed, his shield held up before brought forward to bash into the child sending him tumbling head-over-heels, each weapon embedding itself further and drawing red blood from the wound.

A cough made the child spit out several globules of red liquid before once more rushing forward uncaring of the consequences, a swing left with the shield sending the white katana flying into the masses around them, both of the Noble's hands grasping the hilt as a tear welled up in his left eye. His arms pulled back, aligning the sword with its target before pushed forward, effortlessly cutting through muscle and bone and through the other side, a click heard before a sharp crack of the pistol fired off. Both of the child's arms fell loosely to his sides, then struggling he brought it up to Kizuko's face wiping away the unshed tear and gave a warm smile unbefitting of the situation, three words spoken softly for only them two to hear, "I… forgive… you…" The sword was removed from its prison, the owner surprised for a half-second to see the child continue standing without any support before he remembered who the boy was, kneeling down and looking up with closed eyes moments before he lost all thought, the Shadow killing him to avenge the King.

Sixteen days after start of the 5th war-

The priestess kneeled in front of the altar, eyes closed and hands together in prayer, the little one wandering around the yard outside the church, meandering around to pass the time before she was allowed to play with it again. Without warning she felt a flash of fear from the little one, along with sensing a Servant and Master coming up to the church.

She did not stop in her prayer at the sound of the door creaking open, nor of the clicking of a gun being armed. Seconds passed by before she finished, standing up and turning around to face the two that had come before her. What met here gaze was the First Berserker and her Master, the latter holding his shotgun pointed at her and the former looking around for someone or something.

Not overly concerned with the two in front of her, she spoke with a calm grace, head tilted to the side, eyes closing slightly and a small smile in place. "Considering that the one next to you has yet to fade away you have come for a reason other than sanctuary, perhaps religious enlightenment?" The man let out a low chuckle at the words while shaking his head, a smile matching the girl's.

The laughter quietened within seconds of beginning, the man bringing up the shotgun at his side to point at her, "No I haven't, I've come to kill you at the behest of another, apparently you're not playing by the rules." The man let out a sigh, the Servant beside him summoning her sword and holding it in one hand.

The girl did not react to the weapon aimed at her, continuing on in the same voice as before, "I see, well I guess the ruse is up. Lancer." The two at the front of the church had enough time to look behind them to see the 'doll-demon', painted and eyeless face sending a shiver of terror down each of their spines for a mere moment.

A second passed, and the Lancer's 'hammer' impacted against the Berserker's chest, the force behind the blow sending her into the ceiling, debris falling down alongside smoke. Another second went by, the Lancer's weapon sailed over the man, only missing through a quick reaction started the moment the Lancer was called. The dust cleared away from the ceiling, the Berserker standing upside-down before launching herself back at the 'doll-demon' with sword held in both hands.

A clang of metal on metal resounded through the holy place, occasionally the harsh scraping of stone and metal echoing out instead. The 'hammer' and Clarent collided with one another constantly, each strike sending the other combatant sliding or flying back every few blows, pews splintering into pieces and bricks crushed into dust with each miss.

The Mediator and Master of Lancer watched the battle taking place in front of her with a grace normally not found in children, a bang echoing out from the other Master's weapon making her turn slightly to the noise. The projectiles made of bone sailed through the air, stopping suddenly when they collided against red fabric, the cloth itself wrapping around the 'bullets' and holding them tightly. The man once more sighed, rifling through one of his pockets for something as the cloth unraveled allowing the projectiles to fall to the ground, eventually grasping something even as the shotgun was aimed to the side and fired.

The sword clashed with the 'hammer', a large piece of the stone head sheared off and sent careening into a pillar, a cracking noise hardly heard over the din of combat. With the piece of the weapon gone, the Lancer swung faster than before, each strike holding more force than before slightly surprising the Berserker as she was rocketed through the weakened pillar, more debris falling between the two and allowing the moonlight to shine into the church.

The Knight of Treachery rolled with the impact, getting up and swinging her blade to meet the concrete mace, both Servants skidding backwards and standing still, one breathing heavily and holding a hand to her stomach, the other merely staring at the other before inspecting its weapon. The knight brought up her sword, the tip pointed at the Lancer's heart, her received reply was the creature twirling the remainder of its 'hammer' until it was draped across its shoulders, a tilt of its head infuriating the Berserker and making her charge her opponent with a growl.

Another bark of the shotgun echoed out, its payload flying in all directions in an attempt to cause injury to the Mediator, each projectile caught by the red cloth wrapped around her left arm. She leapt back to avoid the second volley, the mantle dropping its bound objects and capturing as many of the new volley as it could, one managing to slip by and graze the priestess's cheek, causing a nauseating sense to fall over her for a moment before she recovered.

Without preamble the man brought his left out of his pocket, a magus's heart clutched in his hand, casually throwing the object at his foe, fully expecting the next event to take place. He was unsurprised when the cloth wrapped around the grenade, nor was he surprised when the cloth billowed out for a moment then tearing apart from the explosion contained. He was surprised when the girl remained calm, not flinching even as the holy mantle returned only an eighth of its original size.

Before more could be decided from their fight, the Berserker flew into the middle of their battleground, the Lancer right behind with only the metal pole remaining of its weapon. Even with the main part of its weapon gone the being held its own, the speed of each strike made up for the lack of power held. With a well-timed sweep the Berserker was lifted off the ground for a moment, then sent flying into her Master and out of the church by punch to the chest.

The Servant still remaining in the church looked over at its Master, becoming reassured by the smile directed its way and the hand held out to him. Hand in hand the two child-like ones left through the hole in the church out into the moonlight, coming to gaze at the Berserker attempting to stand back up with her sword embedded in the ground and both hands on the handle, her Master using a nearby tombstone to help himself up.

From each of the Servants' appearances one could tell that the amount of fighting they had done was on a level beyond what they normally would do. The Lancer's clothing was torn apart to the point that only a sleeve of its shirt remained, its grey-skinned form marked with multiple gashes and the bottom right portion of its head missing, while the Berserker's armor was dented in multiple places and ruptured in occasionally, a single rupture allowing her eye to gaze hatefully at the Lancer.

She got up slowly, helmet retracting back into her armor as she did, releasing her stolen blade from the ground before holding it like her father had done with the Sword of Promised Victory. The silver blade was covered in an aura of crimson transforming into a blade fit only for a demon, a wave of hatred and anger with an underlying loneliness seeping out from her. With gritted teeth she let out the first part of the Noble Phantasm, "Clarent…" then with a step forward she spoke the second. "Blood…"

With a yell and a swing of the sword down the Noble Phantasm was released for the world to see. "ARTHUR!" A wave of red leapt from the blade, a crescent moon of energy headed towards the Lancer and its Master. With little warning the Servant grabbed the priestess, twirling once and throwing her clear of the wave of energy, the last thing she saw of the being was it waving with an innocence bordering child-like. She did not weep when the light faded and nothing remained of her home and Servant, nor when the markings upon her hand dimmed.

She watched as the Berserker fell to her knees, parts of her body fading away into prana while she looked up into the sky, her sword leaving her hands. A single hand was raised to the sky and moon above, looking to be reaching for something before it fell down and scattered into prana followed by the rest of her body. Caren didn't react when the man hobbled in front of her, the shotgun aimed at her head, a look of melancholy upon his face. "Perhaps… I may take you up on your offer, another time."

The girl smiled, and a bang echoed out through Fuyuki.

It was a nightmare come to life. Blue, red and black fires raging across the city of Angels, Demons and Grigori, black shadow-like creatures roaming the streets and alleyways looking for remaining living four. Only the Great Kings and the unknown one yet lived, the kings on death's door with the child-like being acting as their last guard.

The door shook and rattled, inhuman screams howling for blood heard from outside. The doll-demon looked back at the ones that sheltered it from the rest of the realm, eyeless gaze sweeping over them before it walked over. Each king was given a hug, the meaning of it not lost upon them as the stone door buckled from the strain put upon it by the horrors outside.

The King of Angels smiled serenely, her eyepatch lost showing the pitch-black eye hidden behind the silver metal, hand stroking the grey skin of the creature gently, "I guess it's time to say goodbye, isn't it little Ningyō?" A simple nod was all she received for an answer, leading to her closing her eyes and her breathing stilling, her life gone from the wounds suffered in her chest and shoulder.

The King of Demons picked himself off the ground, claymore holding him up even as his legs trembled. His free hand reached out, patting the creature's head for a moment before returning to his side, "All things come to an end little one, remember that in your last moments upon this blessed and forsaken realm." The claymore was lifted from the ground, black flames burning into existence along the blade before running along the armor's form, the sword pointed at the doorway and lingering there.

The King of the Grigori walked over, stave clicking along the ground with each step until he was before the child, kneeling down and giving a smile to the boy and slipping the necklaces he always wore over the boy's head. "I've been meaning to give you these, I think that they better suit you then me, little one." He looked over at the King of Demons, smiling despite the situation the three found themselves in, "I guess it's our time to fade away, shall we join our oath-sister in death Asmodeus?" The flaming Demon nodded and let out a laugh alongside the Fallen Angel, both finding amusement in their current situation, while the child simply tilted its head to the side.

The child-like creature picked up its weapon, waved goodbye and started running at the door. Just before the stone door collapsed the being crashed into it, the stone fracturing into pieces and sent flying into the throng of the strange creatures of pure shadow and light flattening dozens. The 'hammer' swept through the creatures, each strike sending packs into the air to crash into buildings and flames, screams of pain replacing the earlier bloodlust.

He stood for an hour, the stone 'hammer' slowly chipping away with each strike, multi-colored blood staining the weapon and bearer a rainbow. Finally one managed to get past unharmed, clawed hand impaling where a heart would normally be located, the being stumbled in its rhythm, the creature knocked aside before being replaced by another. The next shadow tore off the creature's right arm, more rushing in until all that remained was the remains of 'his' 'hammer' lying beside the head, a small trickle of pure black blood leaking from the eyesockets. They moved past its corpse through the doorway, the shadows off to finish the last of Lucifer's denizens.

And so Lucifer fell to Death, the first among the Realms of Dreaas.

The sky was crying, droplets splashing against the scorched tiles atop the Tower amidst endless blue sands, only two figures seen standing, one a child barely past his first decade holding a bloodied, broken sword, the other an adult clutching the remnants of a black metal stave. The latter stumbled backward, a smile in place despite the three fist-sized wounds over his heart, stomach and left shoulder, the metal falling to the ground with a noise rivaling a bang, followed swiftly by a thud of ground meeting body. Silence reigned in the sky, only six left alive within the tower and the surrounding desert, broken by howling wind blowing through the ruined husk filled with corpses and blood.

Stoically the child turned as he felt another presence behind him, staring directly at the cloaked form of Death, its strange white mask with horizontal slits for eyes and three vertical slits over the mouth staring back. "Time's almost up Child-King. One more sacrifice and that which was lost shall be returned." The Bloody Angel gave no acknowledgement that he heard, simply looking blankly at the being before turning away and walking towards the body of the man who made him what he was. "Thirty-one thousand, five hundred forty-one people have died to my family since the deal was struck three months ago…" A clatter sounded out as his sword was dropped left hand moving to reach under his hoodie, removing the hand once it curled around a handle, a butcher's knife with cloud-like markings brought out into the cloud-covered night.

A small smile grew on the boy's face, one untainted with madness or happiness, the knife was placed just above his heart, his eyes closing as his beloved heirloom was lifted up, "What's one more to that number?" A flash of steel, no white blood splattered across the tiles, no more coated his hands, arms and chest. Instead, red began to stain his clothing, red splashed along the ground, red coated the knife as he fell to his knees, the Shadow at his side with panic easily seen in its movements, a rising hand gently caressing its face before falling lifeless.

The Child-King died his first death, unaware of the choice his family made and the choice of the Second God.

He remembered the darkness, it was as comforting just as it was back with Little Brother and their little stuffed kitten within the Tower, those were carefree days despite being restricted to a tiny room with no view of the outside. Little Brother was his opposite in every way despite them being twins, they were fine with it though at the time, it wasn't as if they really understood what they were mimicking anyway. They both had grown used to seeing only slightly in the pitch black that was their 'home', little brother was usually sitting on the stone slab that was their bed cuddling Cheshire while bundled up in one of the two blankets they were given, he just did as he always had and 'danced' in their cell.

Clinking of keys hitting one another sounded their retrieval for another test, both coming to stand in the center of the room as the metal door creaked open as it normally did, showing the two to a man in metal armor, a Warden of the Tower. They both exited their cell, following behind the man as he led them past door after steel door, darkness above and light below them, walls of scarlet and violet passing by until they reached a set of pure white doors, continuing on even as the Warden stilled and left them. The Wardens were always nice people, their only issue being that they had committed crimes of varying types and wished to redeem themselves and were sent to the Towers, quite a few went mad after their first years, others were different in that they became apathetic to everything.

Entering through the second door they encountered, both were immediately swept up in the controlled chaos occurring, one led along through the crowd to a table while the other was guided to the side. He was guided to the table, those inside preparing him for the last of his tests while a few looked over Little Brother and made sure he was ready as well, the men and women around them calling out to those around them and their superiors the readiness of the test. Machines of both simple and complex design whirled to life, their myriad of sounds adding another layer of noise barely overheard over the din of the scientists, the test begun with a single word.

No noise beyond the machines were heard the moment that word was uttered, each fully aware of what they were committing as one of them walked forward with an item in his hand. A single needle was applied to his neck with little warning, a yellow-white water found within the glass behind it, yet he kept smiling like the kitten they were given, a wide, mad smile that unnerved the scientists. A spasm racked the boy, then another until he was shaking uncontrollably, the man backing away to a respectable distance in the case of failure. Then he laughed.

He kept laughing and the fear in the room became easy to notice, the two guards near the entrance placing a hand near their weapons handles, ready in the case of a rampage. They had nothing to fear for the moment, as he clutched his chest still spasming, laughing as his body glowed, his hair and eyes turning to a pale yellow while the skin paled to near pure white. The adults in the room didn't celebrate as the boy stilled, the laughter becoming nothing more than chuckling as he got to his feet, twirling in place as if he was listening to a music only he heard.

Little Brother started to move forward as he leapt off the metal table, standing just next to it as the younger child climbed up onto the metal. His twin laid down, tilting his head to the right to look him in the eyes, growing confident as the he softened the smile and closed the unnatural eyes. The same man came over with another needle, the glass filled with a grey water, there was a slight pain noticed as the needle bit into flesh, then the man backed away again, leaving only the two brothers at the table.

A second passed, then another, and finally a third before anything happened, unfortunately the bad kind. The Child's body convulsed and spasmed erratically, flakes of dust rising off of his body while the scientists ran around in an attempt to prevent his death, the unnamed boy standing off to the side with wide eyes and mouth opened slightly in shock and worry.

A bark from the superior and all movement stopped, several among their number slumping as the child kept moving erratically, crying as they did so, the man came forward with a single instrument in his hand, him noticing it before the eyes narrowed and mouth became set in a thin line. A moment passed, and the item disappeared from the man's hand, a quick glance at the first brother showing he held it, raising it up in the air above the other child who refused to cry or scream in pain. A single eye switching from black to white opened and saw the knife descending, then the pain stopped…

The surviving brother looked at the fading corpse of his Brother, knife devoid of blood but speckled with dust that had once been flesh, then he looked over at the man that had injected both him and his younger twin with the two liquids. Four words were spoken in a deathly calm voice no child should be capable of, sending chills up the scientists' spines and causing the guards to draw their weapons and move towards the boy. "I'm killing you all."

Ilya woke up suppressing a scream, hand clutching her chest from the dream that quickly dissolved into a nightmare as it often did with her Servant's memories. A look towards the door showed him outside of astral state curled up into a ball, seemingly innocent as he lightly breathed in and out with little noise made, his sword nowhere near him to ruin the image. Trembling she pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her, letting out a whisper meant only for her to hear, "Berserker… what are you?" A minute twitch of the Servant's body went unnoticed as she rolled over and tried to fall back asleep, failing for the remainder of the night.

Seventeen days after the start of the 5th war-

The two Masters and their Servants were welcomed to the church with the sight of a ruined yard on one side, the doors open and showing rubble strewn across the floor and grass, the rising sun casting long shadows across the ground. The boy could smell the scent of prana in the air, indicating that a battle had occurred within the night, while the girl noticed a man sitting against a tombstone, staring blankly out into space with a shotgun hanging loosely in his grip. The former Master noticed them as they approached, removing his glasses for a moment then putting them back on, a sigh leaving his lips as he stood up.

The two Servants drew their respective weapons, the boy keeping a hand on his sheathed blade in case of a fight. Kairi looked at the two for a moment before moving behind the tombstones, stooping down to pick up something before standing back up. A gasp from the girl and the narrowing of eyes from the boy at the corpse the man carried, moving to stand before them. Without ceremony the man held out the bloody body of Caren Hortensia, a weary air around the man as he did so, surprising the two Masters with the seeming gentleness that the bounty hunter was handling the corpse with.

Shirou took his friend's corpse from Kairi, the man backing away as he did until he stood where he originally sat. Without pause the man took out a cigarette, lit the paper and let out a smoke, grimacing at the taste before beginning the conversation, "While I'm sorry for your loss, this is a war, people die all the time." He was expecting an indignant reply or looking away as the girl did, he did not expect the boy to nod his head in the same expression as his own, melancholy tainting the face and golden eyes.

Ilya was the one to speak, her gaze glued to Caren's smiling face, while a tear slid down her own, "We, mainly my Onii-chan and papa, have seen more blood than most people. Papa killed his father, and his mother-figure, Onii-chan has slaughtered countless men, women and monsters to be as strong as he can be to protect that which he holds dear. We are no strangers to death and blood, that doesn't mean we have forgotten what makes us human." She looked back at the man, eyes belonging to a person much older than her form showed gazing at him in the same melancholy.

Scraping was briefly heard as the Saber and Berserker put away their swords, one obviously distressed over his Master's state of mind, the other's own distress still apparent if one looked hard enough. Shirou did not speak, simply staring at Caren's body, without warning he turned around and left with her in his arms, his Servant leaving immediately behind while his Sister and her Servant stayed for some parting words. "My imouto will grieve, and then he will come speak with you. I don't think he will kill you, as the deed is done, mind what you say Sisigou." She waited long enough for his reply to finish then left, a sad smile in place as she kept hearing his words.

"I do not regret killing her, I am at peace with myself in that regard. My regret is that I can't win the war for my wish, however selfish that may be, I just want my family to be able to survive past my life. Is that not somewhat similar to why your brother fights? To protect you, your father and those he cares for."

The nameless samurai looked down at his soon-to-be opponent, his face impassive as he took in the children, the one purely in white grinning up at him with a smile worthy of the Cheshire Cat. There was no warning as the boy covered the steps up in seconds, the katana sliding along the nodachi for a moment before the boy was thrown back down the steps. The clouds above rumbled, lightning flashing and illuminating the ground below while rain pattered against the stone steps, trees and clothes of the Servants and Master.

A few seconds passed by with nothing occurring, another flash of lightning heralding a swing from the Child-King, three beams of yellow-white light flying from the sword towards the Fake. A slight widening of eyes greeted the beams, a quick dodge by the Assassin allowed the light to explode upon the steps, the Servant standing back up with sword swinging. A small trail of white blood followed the sword as it swung through the air, the Berserker falling back down the steps.

The Fake did not follow his opponent down, regardless of how much he would enjoy the fight if he did, silently cursing the Witch in his thoughts even as he kept an eye on his opponent. The boy charged back up the stairs giggling madly as he did so, his sword flashed out, eliciting a cut along the Assassin's cheek even as the nodachi stabbed him in the left shoulder. The Fake Servant retreated a few steps up, caught off-guard by the unorthodox attack but quickly returning to his previous readiness, taking a few moments to prepare himself to fight against a foe that wasn't averse to taking wounds.

A childish giggle was all the warning that came before the new onslaught, three strikes dodged in succession, two blows deflected to either side of him overextending the boy to a retaliation. The nodachi blurred, four stab marks appearing on the Berserker's left shoulder, right hip, right lung and a barely missed heart, the blade nicking the organ, alongside several strings of blood flying from the wounds.

The Mad Servant did not care for the injuries, pushing on regardless of the blood and impairment of limbs, a mad laughter leaving his lips as the katana found itself cutting through flesh and clattering against the other weapon. A multitude of slashes were sent from both Servants, wounds ranging from trivial to life-threatening for a normal human appearing on both beings' forms. After a half-minute they stopped suddenly, allowing others to see the extent of the wounds, the boy having received the worst of the exchange due to his way of fighting.

The boy had numerous stab and cut marks littering his form, most notably the one just left of his heart, two on both sides of his neck just barely missing the airway, two puncturing his left lung, a full three stabs in each joint connecting the torso to a limb, a cut connecting the two stabs in the neck, forming a sideways I and silencing the mad Child-King's laughter. The Assassin was in a much better situation, having only a fourth of the total wounds that his fellow Servant had accumulated, a single stab in the right portion of his abdomen, twenty assorted cuts of various sizes along the torso and another cut joining the one decorating his check.

There was no warning before several beams of violet magic struck the Berserker in the chest, the unexpected force sending him flying into the forest, bark splintering as the mad Servant crashed through the foliage, stopping only when his shadow caught up with him. A figure of pure black took shape behind the child, arms wrapping around the Berserker and cushioning the following blows from the branches, both falling to the ground after hitting the seventy-first branch.

Only the boy let out a sound, that of laughter before they hit the ground, the Cheshire smile making itself known while the shadow made a distinct shape, clothing made of black fabric manifesting into existence. The shadow was covered by an overcoat, pants and boots, nothing clearly distinctive seen underneath the clothes and hood. Both child and shadow moved quickly to return to the battlefield, a guardless pitch-black claymore appearing from within the left sleeve as the Berserker leapt into the air, body twisting to be parallel to the ground just as the blade made contact with his feet, launching the boy through the forest again.

Eyes widened momentarily at his entrance, the Fake Assassin moving just in time to deflect the boy away from hurling past him, the boy landing against a branch hanging over the stairs. A second passed, the cracking of the branch the only noise giving away the Berserker's movement until the ring of metal sounded out, sparks flying as both swordsman renewed their battle. The only noteworthy detail he managed to gleam was the lack of wounds on the other Servant, the fake samurai giving more ground than he would have liked under the reckless assault, already the boy having previous state of injury in a half-minute.

Both swordsmen continued on with their little skirmish, another half minute rolling by when something from within the forest was thrown to end up between the two Servants, only an ink-black noticed before it was in the way of the duel. The Berserker's arm moved back, catching the thrown claymore and swinging upwards, sparks flying along with a screech of grating steel, the Assassin moving back much quicker than normal in his surprise. A flurry of blows followed behind, the two-handed sword wielded as easily as the katana, a full two dozen strikes delivered within the span of three seconds.

The Fake lived beyond what his status would normally dictate, parrying all but two slashes that left only a thin line of blood across his left knee and under his right eye. A flash of steel, twin streams of white flew into the air, the clanging of metal and laughter of a mad child the only answers. Gradually retreating up the steps, the Second Assassin ducked backwards suddenly, allowing the violet beam to hit the insane child in the chest.

The Berserker tumbled down the stairs, his borrowed weapon dissipating back into the shadows as he fell, eventually coming to a stop near the bottom of the steps looking away from the temple, his Master running up to him and looking him over. Three seconds passed with the Berserker turning around, a single step taken ending with a flash of white light, his opponent barely able to deflect the blade to the side before the assault once more began.

A sigh left the Witch's mouth, another orb of magic being created to deal with the rather annoying Servant she had to deal with. Her eyes widened as a black shape flew into the air, a single appendage of the dark form lashing out to lightly cut just centimeters under her right eye and interrupting her aim. The sudden appearance of the being startled the Caster, the orb veering near-instantly at the new foe and shooting it into the ground amidst a cloud of dust and stone. A spell made the cloud disappear as quickly as it appeared, its absence showing nothing beyond the air and a crater.

Confusion apparent on what little was seen of her face, the Witch turned back to the fight between her Servant and the Berserker, wary of what had attacked her out of nowhere and where it had gone. A shout caught her attention for a split-second, as it did to the 'Mad' Servant resulting in a lost right arm, a spray of white blood and a flying katana, a smirk appearing as the Homunculi Master ran up the steps. A bark of laughter brought her back to observing the Berserker, eyes widening as her Assassin jumped back to avoid being skewered on a dozen spikes of Darkness.

A beam of light hit the Nameless Servant squarely in the chest as he landed upon the steps, sending him stumbling up a single step before the light was sent careening into the forest. The spikes retracted back into the shadow they came from, a new limb for the Berserker made within the six seconds spent waiting for the dark to abate. Both of the Child-King's foes stiffened at the sight as the white liquid-like substance flowed into the shape of an arm, quickly gaining the pigment for human skin before being covered by the white fabric. Not once during the entire fight had the smile been driven from his face, unnerving both the Witch and Samurai with the same expression not meant to be borne by a child.

"It's been a long time since we got play this much, ne Onii-san?" Laughter escaped the 'human' as he stumbled around drunkenly for a few steps, head tilted to the side with the near-permanent smile diminishing as if he was listening to something. The hand gripping the white katana let it fall for a short second, catching it just before the pommel would be too far to grasp and sending it flying up the stairs spinning, its form shattered into fragments of metal glittering in the moonlight alongside the violet motes of prana. All upon the steps heard the ringing as the metal clattered against the temple stairs, then the giggling of the 2nd Berserker as he began to twirl around in his stumbling, both hands wide out before being placed behind his back as he stopped and looked up, a haunting melody hummed from the Monster. "… Dark Light… Play until you lose yourself in madness… Forever meant only to mimic the happiness you grant others… Bright Shadow… Protect until you fade away in the sun's light… Knowing none will ever hear you beyond the night… Thus was the King and his first brother, destined to never be understood and never caring so long as those they loved were safe."

The figure in black once more appeared, standing just behind the Berserker with two of its claymores grasped in its hands, the limbs moving to place the two blades crossing diagonally over the boy's form with the flat of either blade towards them. A glimmer of white and two 'swords' made in the image of the 2nd Saber's sword were held by the child, loosely and calmly held at his sides with a genuine smile gracing the Monster's face. Silence reigned, then the Witch let out a scoff as she took in the figure that had attacked her minutes prior, "So you bring another with you to fight me knowing you needed the extra advantage, and yet you leave him in plain sight rather than keeping him hidden. Are you a fool in addition to a mad child?"

His giggling didn't stop as he made a childish pose as if he were thinking over what she had said, infuriating the Caster with the behavior until the boy spoke truthfully spinning around once on one foot as he did. "Probably am, don't really care, daddy always did say everyone was either a fool or an idiot, even himself." Both of the non-humans dashed up the stairs, crossing the distance between them and the Assassin within two seconds, the shadow moving past the Nameless Hero and leaping at the Witch, three clangs heard as the creature swung its conjured blades. Two swipes were made with both claymores, each releasing an arc of shadow sent to counter the violet beams the Caster sent towards it, both attacks breaking apart into a shower of sparkling prana sent cascading down.

Lunging forward with one blade reared back and the other outstretched, the shadow met a shield of prana in its path, the Caster letting out a barely audible grunt as her barrier struggled to hold back the 'spirit'. A flick of the wrist and it was sent flying back down, a cloud of smoke engulfing her from the point-blank spellfire before being blown away with a simple spell, alarm clear on the Witch's face when she found the Berserker grinning at her with his damned smile, already swinging with the right blade in an attempt to rid her of her head. Her only real weapon was drawn in the left hand while she blocked with another barrier, the giggling making a tiny hint of fear cross through her body before she shot another beam into the Child-King. The boy tumbled down the stairs, straightening out and swinging from his left with both swords, the Fake Servant ducking under the attack before side-stepping to the left, avoiding the cleave from the creature's right sword.

Laughter filled with madness filled the air, even as its source was pounded with bolt after bolt of the Caster's magics, the shadow trying its best to shield the Berserker with its own body, several 'holes' appearing in places where it had been hit multiple times. Red, black and white splatters covered the stone steps, barely ten percent of the stairway they had fought upon for the past half-hour remaining unmarred by the blood. Both the Berserker and his Shadow finally stopped fourteen steps above where the former's Master stood, the younger stumbling back up to his feet and about to continue back up, the older grasping its right shoulder while standing near-still. Dripping was heard, then a mix between a guttural cough and growl, the shadow's right arm losing its shape before falling like a liquid and splashing into a 'puddle', a single step taken backwards down the stairs before another bolt of prana hit it square in the head, the body locking up while the Cheshire smile immediately disappeared from the Berserker's face.

Black motes scattered into the air from the Child King's shadow, its hand raising itself slowly even as it disappeared, reaching out for its brother and grasping the hand of the boy, the latter's hand reaching towards its head and moving back the cowl, exposing the black bandages covering the entirety of the head. Slowly and with gentleness one would not expect from the Mad Servant, the Berserker removed the wrappings, the ink-black 'skin' exposed to the world of Gaia before rapidly fading away, a glimmer of red found for a short moment in the image of a smile before they too faded, leaving behind the four individuals. "Onii…san?" Silence reigned over the stairway, the Witch smug in her killing of the creature while the Assassin grew wary at the lack of action made by the crazed child, tis Master in a similar position to the latter with worry creeping in as time continued to pass. "Berserker?"

A twitch, then another as he turned to look back up at the Witch and her Servant, the smug look leaving near-immediately after seeing the single pale yellow eye glaring hateful up at them, hands gripping his head as if having a headache. "It hurts… Can't hear Onii-san… You killed Iro-nii…" A clang of metal resounded through the air, startling the Master and Caster as they looked from where the child had been to the Assassin, the man trembling as he fought back against the enraged child, only the left blade of the latter meeting the nodachi. The 'younger' Servant brought up his right blade, its tip pointing directly at the Nameless Fake's head before it lost its shape, turning into little more than a line of light as it rocketed forward in the half-second it took to 'create', the boy's opponent barely able to avoid the blow enough to only receive a deep cut along his left face.

Another volley of magic came at him from the Witch, an equal number of white orbs appearing around him and flying off into and through the violet lights, a second later finding themselves smashing into a hastily erected shield that held for only two seconds, barely enough time for the Caster to move without being hit by the thirteen shots. The woman paused for a short moment before taking out her only physical weapon, clutching it in hand as the Mad Servant's Master yelled out an order backed by a command seal, the flash of red dissipating while surprise etched itself on her and the Witch's face as he continued to fight heedless of the order.

He barely felt the seal trying to take effect, his rage blocking out most everything beyond simply killing everything that took Onii-san from him, he didn't want to lose another brother, not after he had lost his first brother to the Mad Men's experiments. And yet he had, so he left behind his happy madness for apathetic rage intent on killing the ones who killed Onii and then letting himself fade away into his blessed sleep, back to the endless meadow that was Father's tomb. Once more he attacked the Assassin, intent on killing the Fake Servant before he moved slightly out of the way, allowing the twin strikes to pass through the air harmlessly while the Caster rushed forward, two seconds passing before a dripping of blood was heard, white once more coating the stairway with their form. A look of surprise washed over the Berserker's face, the rage subsiding at the strange connection that he felt and the absence of another, before it clicked upon the Witch stepping back leisurely.

The boy in white stood trembling, his shadow no longer beneath him and Master looking on in shocked disbelief behind him further down the stairs. The Witch was in front of him, face holding a satisfied smile and hand holding Rule Breaker and the Second Berserker's command seals. "Kill your former Master, Berserker." The light of one of the command seals flashed and dimmed, the Child-King twitching uncontrollably as he turned around.

Tears gathered in the former Master's eyes, the Mad Servant lurching down the steps with his blades of light still in existence. The girl did not move from her spot, watching as the boy neared her and stabbed her through the stomach, a light cough letting blood escape her mouth her first of two reactions, "Ber… Ser…Ker…" Ilya fell to the ground as the sword was removed, blood and water mixing together beneath her.

The Second Caster was smug for a moment, then came the killing intent. The pressure made her stumble along with the First Assassin, the Berserker not acknowledging the 'force' in his grief. The source of the intent came from further down the stairs, the Master of the Second Saber slowly climbing them with his head down. "Saber…" the Second Saber appeared without hesitation, a slight look of sadness in his eyes when looking towards the Child-King.

Slowly the Berserker looked up at the advancing two warriors, apathy staining his face while grief marked his eyes, tears running down his face as he asked a question "Saber… I ask this of you… Will you kill the one you call brother along with the two who caused his downfall… " The Witch shuddered at the blank tone the boy used, while the other boy's Servant nodded his reply, drawing the bone from his back with his left hand and the mundane blade reversed with his right. "Then… as your former 'master' I give you your second order… kill me… kill the warrior… and kill the Witch."

The Berserker did not react when his former Master was cradled in her brother's arms, the two quickly moving down the stairs and into the city, leaving behind the stairway buffeted by raindrops as well as the four Servants of varying classes. A chuckle was heard, one full of insanity that none should be capable of creating, three seconds passing before it changed into full-blown laughter, startling the Witch to look at her newest Servant, a strange knife held in his left hand in a reverse-grip. An air of mystery and danger surrounded the weapon looking like a butcher's knife etched with a cloudy pattern along the dull grey metal, its form twirled around in hand once, twice, thrice before it was plunged into the left thigh to the two Servants from Gaia's world surprise. A second passed, the boy's form flickering erratically as red blood leaked from the wound, a sad smile in place as he held a single guardless katana made from his light in the right hand, "I understand Kizuko's guilt now Onii-san. Even if I was forgiven by nee-chan, I just can't forgive myself for what I was forced to do."

The man gave no acknowledgement that he heard the child, merely looking at the knife embedded in his leg with a semi-sad eye before looking back at the unveiled face of the King, pale yellow staring into dull green. Wind blew through the stairway while the clouds parted to allow the moon to shine down, a single step taking by the swordsman before he disappeared from sight with a cloud of dust forming underneath, a pulse of prana felt before a shattering sound rang out, the child backing up the steps with his 'sword' in motes of light trailing behind the bone. Another sword of light was made in the blink of an eye, moving to intercept the follow-up blow from the mundane blade, yet another spike of prana flaring out as the two were about to impact, blue lines crisscrossing along the metal blade with an audible crack echoing out for the split second of its existence.

White and silver flew through the air, the latter consumed in azure as the prana inside the fragments consumed them, another shower of white flying though the air along the echoing ring of the two non-metallic weapons making contact. Another sword went to join in their dance, the long nodachi darting and twisting in strikes that should be impossible, only to find them blocked and deflected by the bone with an ease that brought a chill, even as the former was aided by the mad child. Both Servants of the Witch side-stepped for a moment, allowing a beam of violet to streak between them, and past the Saber as he twisted round the spell, moving to keep attacking the two warriors even as the Caster sought to aid her shields.

A full twenty seconds passed, filled with the breaking of sword after sword of light, before the nodachi of the Assassin was split in two, a large spike of prana utilized right before the bone cut through steel with a large gash appearing along the man's chest as he retreated back up, leaving behind his ally to the Saber. Only three steps were made before the nameless samurai felt the bone entered through his chest into the heart, a quick cough of blood expelled before he looked down at the wound, stumbling back and tripping as the 'sword' was ripped from flesh and brought to bear against yet another weapon of light. A kick was sent at the Berserker, impacting against the boy and sending him up the stairs slightly, a full three violet spells hitting him in the back and sending him back down into the Saber, the bone already in motion aiming for the neck, a soft smile worn as the bone neared him. "Thank you… Bye bye Mitsu-nii."

A spray of red and a thump was all that needed to be seen and heard, the Saber moving on to the Assassin, taking in the nod with one of his own, and stabbing him once more through the heart, ensuring the man died quickly as befitted a warrior of his caliber. Both bodies faded, the Berserker in a whirlwind of white and red the body destroying itself before it could hit the ground with either part, while the Fake left the realm of the living in a shower of purple with a satisfied smile. Shock, pure shock was etched into her face as she watched the samurai from another world kill her two Servants without any trouble, then fear replaced the previous emotion as he began the trek up, the man's right hand reaching up to his mouth for three seconds before it moved away, glistening in the moonlight.

He felt something break within his Master, a large sorrow being sent through the link until the emotion was pouring into his being, filling up the apathy he normally found himself in before he felt rage for the third time since his birth. Both hands gripped the 'handle' of the remains of the Beast, the only one he acknowledged as his equal in this life and the last, raising it up above his head much like the King of Knights while pouring prana into the blade to the point it would have broken a lesser blade three times over. Life returned to dead eyes burning with a hatred not of their owner's own being, the rather simple look freezing the Caster in her thoughts from the fear it brought, several shields formed of prana manifesting themselves in front of her to take the coming blow.

There was no yell or roar, the wind whistling softly as it was cut through by the slowly descending 'sword' until the tip was placed against stone, the weapon then raised once again before being sheathed, the Saber turning his back on the Caster a moment later and beginning his trek back 'home'. Confusion became dominant among the latter's emotions, three seconds passing before she felt pain and blacked out, all she heard was the cracking of earth and shattering of the barriers she made. Medea's body fell in two perfectly cut pieces, rapidly shattering into prana and returning to the Throne, leaving behind a desolate stairway marred by a deep trench running just up to the entrance of the temple above.

Melancholy hung in the air around his Master's residence, reflecting the mood inside the building as a third body was laid beside the prior two, all three having their eyes closed giving them a serene look. The father of the Berserker's Master was silently crying at the table, the man once known as the Magus killer breaking down as he lost yet another important individual, comforted by the current 'Head' of the Matou family, their positions swapped from the event taking place only two days earlier. Shirou was found kneeling in front of the three bodies, eyes closed with tears streaming down his face while his body trembled erratically, the boy finally allowing the sorrows of the war catch up with him.

The second Saber was the only point of calm within the household, Shinji currently away from the household for some errands, simply standing with a hollow look in the doorway. "I have a wish now, Tou-sama." All three adults looked over to the Ancestor Killer, the voice they heard betraying nothing of what he felt, to find him getting up from his kneeling position, his left hand reaching up to his face and wiping it of the tears. "My wish will be to bring Caren, Sakura-chan and Ilya-nee back to life, no matter the cost to myself they will be back among the living." Sad smiles were gained by the two fathers, then a shuffling was heard before all eyes turned to the sole Servant, the man bowing his head and holding the 'pommel' of his 'sword' like a knight was usually pictured.

"I am your sword, your tool with which to win this War. I hold no wish of my own, so your wish is my wish Master, until Death claims me I shall continue on fighting and killing in the name of your wish." Another day dawned, and with it a wish and reason to truly fight beyond testing one's self came to be.

The Endakai, once the rulers of the Second Age, now reduced to the caretakers of lost technology, guarding over it to make sure that none, including themselves, would abuse it again. The two Legions came forth, driven on by the majority of the world to destroy the small nation for the 'crimes' of its King. They did not willing go into this matter, and only accepted it knowing that they would likely die and atone for the act they were to perform.

The Child-King walked forward with the whole of his family. He didn't want them to die, they decided to follow him despite knowing what awaited them. Under the red sky and upon the blue sands did the blood of millions be spilled, only 10 amongst them being of the family of the Child-King. Only once did Kodomo stop, giving a gentle smile at the commander of the twin legions before he was impaled through the heart, his body remaining standing when the sword was removed despite the numerous weapons embedded within flesh and bone. Red blood dripped to the ground, consumed by the shadow underneath him before it let out a howl of anguish, rising up and preparing to kill the one who killed its brother, the Child-King's eyes slowly closing with the image of hell he helped create burning itself as his last memory.

The Third Age began with a single crash and the death of the World known as Dreaas.

18 days after start of the 5th War-

Two blurs raced along the rooftops of Fuyuki, each circling around the other in an attempt to get a clear shot for their weapons to travel, neither able to run out of projectiles to use in their on-going duel. The red blur channeled prana into his legs and jumped from his current building to the one directly across, bow replaced by married swords to deflect three shots sent, glass breaking from the windows hit by the wayward projectiles. Immediately upon landing he lashed out with the right blade, sparks ground out as bladed musket met white curved sword, then another clash sounded as each weapon welcomed its' partner violently sparking next to them.

Both let the other move back a step, followed near instantly by a step forward baring weapons, three strikes before the white sword was broken, then another for the black to shatter, the Nameless Hero tracing the married pair again in the split-second he had prior to the next exchange. Ten seconds passed by, his swords broken and replaced once before he leapt back throwing the pair he held and making another, watching as the Outcast deflected them into the roof and shot the traced swords with a bullet each shattering them. The cartridges flew from their respective barrel, metal locked back into place as she dashed to just in front of the Second Archer, swords were swung in tandem with muskets with their ringing clash echoing through the air, the bullet shells clicked and clinked against concrete.

Fourteen attacks met again and again, two pairs of swords created as the ones before cracked and shattered into shards of metal, a gunshot interrupting what would be the fifteenth clash and breaking the black sword, another shot ringing out making the male Archer back away, a shallow cut appearing on the right side of his neck as the bullet grazed him. The other Archer also retreated, her form bearing a minor wound on her left arm, her left thigh and a long diagonal slash across her chest, her weapons catapulting the casings out, already in the process of reloading as she leapt to the next building over. EMIYA traced his bow again, nocking a Breaking Bakuya on the string and drawing with a single motion, firing the now-projectile at the other Hero's back before he too took off, idly watching the white streak travel and hit her before being knocked away and into the middle of a sky scraper a street over, the windows lighting up before the building and the three around it were consumed in an explosion.

He landed upon a tiled roof, a patch of tiles inches away from him fractured as a shot pinged off them, two arrows formed, nocked, drawn and fired into the distance in retaliation with another nocked as he sprinted away from the home. Both projectiles he fired missed by a foot to either side, a return volley thundering as three more muskets appeared around her and fired alongside the two in her hands, the Counter Guardian stumbling for a half-second as he was hit by one musket ball in the lower chest, blood welling from the entry and exit wounds. He recovered and immediately stilled, ignoring the late bullet nicking the tip of his ear, drawing the arrow while aiming for the spot she would be at, finally firing after a second's calculations.

It shot forward slightly faster than a bullet, rushing through the air until it slowed, as did everything around it, inches from the Outcast's chest, a second passed as it entered her back and stuck, the pain not registering as she kept moving along. Both fired shot after shot, arrow after arrow at one another, only a half-dozen among roughly seventy from each shooter finding their mark in non-important areas, none even managing to impair their targets in movement and ability to fight. A sword made itself known in the grip of the Faker, a thin pitch-black weapon with several small sheets of metal curling round a thin rod, his movement stilling atop the second highest skyscraper as the 'arrow' was drawn.

Bullets whizzed by, two striking him in his chest as he aimed the Noble Phantasm, twenty seconds and another sixteen shots passing before it was loosed, a short boom echoing as it broke sound the moment his fingers slipped from the handle. Once more time seemed to slow as it appeared directly before the First Hero, her right musket moved to slightly redirect the sword's path, a clang of metal sounded, then of flesh rent and blood spilling in large quantities. The arrow travelled for a mile before crashing into an office building, once more the building lighting up before disappearing in a grand explosion, red-brown blood splatting against the roof, its owner continuing on moving despite the debilitating hole barely missing her heart, a roar of gunfire answering the creation of another sword similar to one of the previous.

Seven of the sixteen shots punctured through skin and bone, crimson fluid flowing down, the black sword he preferred using flying through the air, a plume of smoke erupting from the muzzle before metal pinged off metal, the sword turned projectile scattering just to the side harmlessly as she passed. Three guns appeared above her, a short charge of prana running through them before they fired, the muskets shattering into blue motes the moment the shots left their barrel, three arrows lancing through the air in response and detonating the explosive projectiles on contact. Smoke obscured the two from one another's sight, neither caring as they sent projectile after projectile through the cloud, blindly fired 'normal' shots soaring by one another with only three hitting one another in the air among the dozens flying.

The cloud thinned, both from the projectiles racing through dispersing the smoke into smaller amounts and time simply settling the dust, the Outcast found racing up the skyscraper across from the building he stood upon, a sword nocked to his bow and fired across the distance separating them. The musket the First Archer held in her right hand was placed over her back, snatching a spent flintlock hovering around her and throwing it at the incoming projectile, the contact prematurely exploding the Broken Phantasm and allowing her to continue up. Kicking off the steel 'beneath' her feet she grabbed the steel arm of the crane placed atop the skyscraper, climbing through the beams until she reached the end, removing the musket from her back and holding it loosely along with its partner.

'Archer where are you and the other Archer now?" The mental thought reached the white-haired man and made him narrow his eyes, a sigh leaving him physically as he did a quick check of the area while keeping his bow trained on the Hero, her doing the same with her muskets. He let the sigh play out for a reasonable amount of time before replying to his Master, none of the sarcasm he was known to use in other timelines seeping into his voice leaving it near-blank, "Business District, follow the destruction to the skyscrapers." An affirmative came the moment he finished the sentence, another sigh leaving him at the impulsive nature of his Master that had thankfully faded with age, his focus shifting to completely watch the other Archer, a slight narrowing of eyes as she merely stood atop the crane's arm staring straight back at him.

A sharp turn of her head and raising of the left gun had the Second Archer cursing, even more so as a surge of prana was felt for a second before fading, a warning sent to his Master just before a crack sounded through the empty district, 'RIN, DOWN NOW!' He heard no acknowledgement nor any questioning from her as the bullet sped towards the ground, a rising plume of smoke marking a spot behind a hunkering human rapidly rising to her feet and starting to flee. The musket-wielder jumped from her perch, scrabbling for a foot-hold as the bowman's first volley smashed into rooftop she landed upon, an arrow to the back disregarded as she sped off after the Master, no one else out and about during the curfew put in place after the two Lancers had fought and leveled a neighborhood… one of the only good things to come from the 'Terrorist actions' that had claimed a good two hundred lives.

Once more the two raced along the buildings, only the Unnamed Hero actively firing to kill with his projectiles, the Outcast's shots aimed to debilitate and slow the Second Archer chasing after her, both failing in their respective tasks. 'Why didn't you say you were in a stalemate, I could have been killed if you hadn't said that in time!' He let relief flow over him for all of two seconds at the voice of his Master coming over the connection, not replying back immediately as another volley of arrows was fired at his Master's pursuer. "I am the bone of my sword…" The first of his aria was spoken as a fake sword formed in hand, the blade reinforced as it was drawn, the second line leaving his lips as the projectile was pulled back fully and loosed. "Steel is my body and fire is my blood…"

Another sword was formed and nocked as the third line was whispered, idly noticing the previous shot go wide as it was deflected skyward and a rapidly disappearing cloud of blue sparkles of what once was metal. "I have created over a thousand blades…" He didn't aim straight for her with this sword-arrow, instead aiming for the building two ahead of her, the projectile fired just as the others before it had, becoming a red streak through the sky for all of two seconds before entering the building and detonating. Despite the building collapsing she kept going, bounding across the floating rubble that swiftly felt gravity claim them with no break in stride, a curse sounding through the Counter Guardian's head at the cry of alarm his Master gave while he continued on with the next part of his aria. "Unknown to Death, Nor Known to Life…"

The Hero jumped down into the alleyway separating the falling building and its neighbor, darting from its safety to be met with a hail of 'normal' arrows, leaping to the side a half-second before they would have made her a pincushion, another two verses leaving the Second Archer's lips as he readied a second volley, "Have withstood pain to create many weapons… Yet, those hands will never hold anything…" The Outcast turned to enter the next alley, a stream of red lights clouding her vision in dust even as she felt something leap over her head, cloud parting quickly as she swept her muskets through the smoke to clear it, finding the other Archer and his Master waiting, the last of the former's aria now heard by both. "So as I pray, Unlimited Blade Works." Fire gathered around the red-clad man, spreading past Servant and Master as it consumed all in its path, the First simply standing in silence as the fire that didn't burn engulfed her in bright light.

The crackling of flames died, replaced by the noise of clockwork infinitely working, the fire had burned away everything to reveal a wasteland, barren beyond the graveyard of swords that held the grace of tombstones and gears obscured by smog above. The Faker stood upon the only hill in sight, his Master looking at him with a mixture of relief and fear farther behind him on the hill's top, his bow still in hand until he let it fall and break on contact the ground, Kanshou and Bakuya replacing the black bow. No words were exchanged between the two Archers, the First falling forward for seemingly no reason until a sword shot past through where she had stood, a twist of her body and arm lashing out making metal grate against metal as the second sword was sent flying. The 'graves' were torn from their spot in the world of blades, sent rocketing towards the intruder in their forger's world with a single thought, tearing through the air as if eager to taste blood.

A half-minute of weapon-fire raining down on the Outcast played out, holy weapons wielded by Heroes and Saints, demonic weapons held in the grips of Villains and Warriors, copies of treasured blades held by humanity's legends fired at one such Hero. The First Archer danced, spun and ducked through the hail, bladed muskets lashing out only to redirect the Second's weapons enough to pass by without harm, even still several made it through and struck her body. A third of the near-hundred blades managed to wound her, three managing to lodge themselves in flesh amidst the others that only scratched her, one just below the right shoulder, another in her lower left leg and a final spear impaling just shy of her heart into the left lung.

The rain of blades stopped as an overly-large sword appeared over the Second Archer's shoulder and was fired, sparks flying as it made contact with the woman's muskets, the altered sword forcing her back several meters from force alone before it shattered under the weight of broken bullets, shards of metal and motes of cyan floating around her. A loud crack called out, the mask hiding her upper face breaking in two, the left side falling to the ground and shattering while the right stayed glued to her face, an eye a touch lighter than a sapphire staring blankly at him.

Both muskets were raised and directed at him, small amounts of prana felt as the vault's contents were released from stasis to surround her in wood and metal, some of the weapons floating lazily and drifting while others remained stiff and unmoving. A light smile broke through the cold mask, small enough that not even the other Archer saw it on her face, she could feel the calm of impending death, could already feel life ebb away for her sister to take another. Eyes refocused on the man she would easily call her better in combat, taking in the swords excitedly quivering in the ground and those hovering in the air around him similar to her and her muskets, a single pull of the trigger and hell visited Unlimited Blade Works.

Thunderous cracks echoed out as bullets and musket balls were sent tearing out of the barrel, several of them shattering completely as their mistress bid them Break or fly with the projectiles they released. Swords, spears, maces, daggers and all manner of other blades shot towards the Outcast with a simple thought, clanging sounded and sparks made as the two walls of vastly different weaponry hit one another, dozens upon dozens forming as each tool previous was damaged beyond repair. Neither Servant moved from their spot, the First lowering her cherished relics to her side to the same position as the Second held his own blades, both simply staring at the other intently waiting for something only they knew. A full minute passed by slowly for the Archers, that same minute flying by for the Second's Master as she watched thousands of blades and thousands of guns 'die' and disappear, neither side visibly winning as far as she could tell even as the world bore wounds of devastation rarely seen.

His swords held in hand were dropped to the dirt, his bow and the curled black sword summoned from among the vast plain, the latter nocked and drawn once more within the night, the string held taut for past half of a minute as swords and muskets clashed. He let the sword named Hrunting be sent flying, a boom once again accompanying the release of the Noble Phantasm, the sword turned arrow becoming nothing more than a red blur streaking past bullet and copied weapon, shattering everything in its path be it sword or gun. Time slowed as it neared the Hero, aimed not at her body but at the relic hanging at her waist, the one cyan eye widening as the projectile pierced the black metal and continued past into the distance, the mushroom cloud appearing disregarded as every airborne musket clattered to the ground lifeless.

Just as it started so too did it end, a rain of blades not unlike how the King of Heroes would have unleashed flying at the First Hero with a comparable speed, the only difference between it and the one before it being quantity, dozens replaced by hundreds of fakes. The Outcast stood firm for all of seven seconds before being overwhelmed, bladed guns deflecting the first thirteen into the ground before one broke, dust obscuring her form while weapons disappeared into it, crunching of bone as blunt weapons struck and ripping as flesh was torn apart from bladed instruments. The rain continued for thirty seconds, fourteen after the sound of metal scraping against metal ceased, replaced by weapons impacting the ground and blood littering the dirt, the world of the Distorted Human fading away back to the alley they had entered first.

A step was taken, then a blinding pain made itself known in his chest, eyes widening in shock as he looked down and saw the end of a musket barrel, top sharpened to an edge with red coating the dark silver, his black eyes immediately moving towards a shocked-still Rin before a yell left him. "Rin, move!" A millisecond played out just after the words were bellowed, a crack of fire and smoke erupting from the barrel and letting the bullet fly into the teen Magus, a pained yelp sounding as she fell to the ground from the hole in her leg. The gun was ripped from its current prison, two quick stumbled steps letting him know he at least had done a number on her, his body falling to a kneel as she moved around him, his Master's eyes widening in horror at whatever had happened to the First Archer, something he quickly found as she entered his vision.

Her right side was utterly mangled from the sword rain he hit her with mere minutes before, the arm no longer there with bones from the shoulder and ribcage peeking through ripped muscle and skin, one sword still somehow lodged in her left leg while the other was barely managing to keep her weight up multitudes of cuts and punctures marking her skin red. The musket she held kept trying to open to allow the spent cartridge to be removed, the mechanisms heavily damaged if what he saw was correct, but it didn't matter with what she was about to do, the gun lifted up in preparation. The girl he called Master lifted up her hand in the position of a Gandr curse, a small volley of three shooting from her limb into the Outcast's body, each making another hole in her chest except for one that tore out a quarter of her left-side neck. The gun flashed down, two different splatters covered the ground in blood.

The girl's body went limp, arm hitting the ground with a dull thump while life began to leave her eyes, the instrument of her death left in her body slowly fading away as its owner fell to the side, two pairs of the married black and white sword sticking out of her back, two embedded in the heart. Brown-red liquid gathered underneath the woman's body, a calm smile forming on her face as she felt the comforting numbness of her cherished cold, her breathe stilling as her body started fading back to the Throne as the other ten had before her. Alleyne, the First Hero and Outcast of Dreaas, died again, this time in a battle with another instead of old age.

The Magus weakly tried to sit up, crimson blood spilling into the puddle beneath her before she gave up, splashing back into pool as her Archer came and kneeled beside her, her hand reaching out and brushing against the man's cheek gently before a smile worked its way onto her face. A weak chuckle left her, her hand moving back down to her side as her voice came out as a near whisper, a slight stutter in her voice appearing as the blood loss got to her, "I-if onl-ly I had-dn't come… we wo-ould b-both be aliv-ve… Ri-right, Ar-ch-her?" He gave her a smile he reserved for moments like this, hand reaching down to hold her hand, he then spoke, a comforting thing for the dying girl, "Probably, probably not. She likely would have killed me with how she acted, and I her, so really… all you did was speed up the fight and prevent any more collateral damage." Another chuckle left her, she took a breath and breathed back out, two tears leaving her eyes as her body stilled, the last of the Tohsaka line moving on to Akasha. EMIYA bowed his head in silence as his body began fragmenting into motes of prana, a single tear shed before he followed the other Archer back to the Throne, and his curse as a Counter Guardian.

A sadness entered her eyes at the sight of her children playing in the few fields of dirt their village claimed as their own, just a few days had passed her forty-third birthday and she was feeling her age catch up with her. She was sitting on a bench outside her home and workplace, watching over her two little fae with a smile, she had relinquished her relic three years after coming home, throwing it into the river supplying them with pure water and watching it fall into the abyss. While it had been one of her few treasures, it wasn't hers by right, it belonged to one of the pantheon or one of the ancient races, the only things she kept from it was the two muskets given freely by the Devil, nothing would make her part with those except death.

Her eyes drooped slightly as she stood up and went inside, gathering up her two relics and placing them on her back and hip, her half-mask grabbed and placed on her face before she moved back outside, ignoring the looks of curiosity she gained from her children. They both ran up to and walked with her until all three reached the edge of the river, Alleyne taking the time to give both a smile and pat on the head before sitting at the edge of the calm tide, feet idly kicking in the water. "There once was an ocean that separated the four continents, the waters a deeper green than emerald and the shores a light turquoise brighter than my eyes…" She launched into one of the many stories and legends she knew and had put into writing, though those writings were held by the Librarians and bound into a book, enrapturing her son and daughter in what once was.

Her story was finished in four minutes, a story explaining what the depths once contained, the Krakens, Great Serpents and Leviathan, the beings living in coral and rock under the waves, a story telling of what the seas brought those who traversed it, food, drink, trade and war. A legend of why the oceans disappeared and canyons took their place, the Mortal God taking away that which brought his children ruin and prosperity. The majority of the beings that had lived under the waves had perished in the event, the people under the waves leaving only their ruins at the canyons' base, the Serpents changing until the first Wyrms were hatched, the Leviathan adapting to the absence of water quickly and living far past the First Age's end.

She sent her children off with a smile, telling them to go to bed and watching them scamper off, waiting several minutes before letting a bittersweet laugh as the cold artic water lapped at her feet. A last thought played through her head, the meaning of it bringing sadness to her smile and eyes, 'Like the oceans before, I bring ruin and prosperity, and as the oceans before did, it is time for the Hero to disappear.' A shuddering deep breath was taken, her eyes closing and head tilting as she placed her two treasures next to her, life having left her the moment she closed her eyes, her age having caught up with her.

19 days after the start of the 5th war-

Both Sabers stared at one another, the last two Servants beyond the Ruler, their Masters beside them prepared to battle alongside their Servants in the abandoned mansion. The Invisible Sword was gripped tightly by the First Saber, the Second Saber and his Master unsheathing their normal blades with their opposite hand, the bone-swords being drawn with their dominant hand. The opposing Master chanted a few words, the scent of prana in the air once she finished.

The two samurai-like individuals rushed forward, the Master heading at the Servant of the opposing pair and vice-versa. The other pair were unsurprised, already used to the strangeness that surrounded this War and of these two in particular. The King of Knights blocked the katana with her sword, the mundane metal shattering on impact to be replaced near-instantly with another, followed by the bone sword crashing down on the Holy Sword. The bone did not break as the katana did, sliding down the Invisible Sword with sparks flying, both combatants looking at one another with apathetic eyes.

The other fight happened with little differences to the start, the katana brought to bear first followed by the bone. Instead of a sword making contact with the opposing blades, wind and the gauntlet met them, cracks forming along the katana with the single clash. The Vice-director slid back from the blow of the bone-sword, sending two blades of wind at the Greatest Swordsman, her opponent throwing his mundane blade at one, destroying them both in the process, and blocked the remaining wind with his unnatural blade.

Seconds moved at a tenth of the speed, each blow being perceived and blocked in mid-flight by every participant. Swords were broken and made as easily as one would breathe, wind was slammed against metal-like bone, while the same bone was used against Fae-blessed steel. To a regular Magi it would look like blurs rather than people fighting, each deflected attack etching a trench into the ground below them or a building beside them.

They did not stay anchored to the ground, nor did they remain with the same opponent for more than a minute and a half. When one jumped, their opponent was directly behind pressing the advantage the maneuver granted them, whether it was sending a conjured blade or wind blade at them, or jumping after the foe with sword at the ready. It was a stalemate, neither side able to keep their advantage for more than a couple of seconds.

The boy's bone-sword was tossed to his Servant, a regular katana forming and taking its place, his Servant slashing the half broken sword in his hands at his counterpart, the wave accompanying it blocked by the Fae blade while the katana shattered into prana. The bone-sword was caught, an unnoticeable flinch passing through the Second Saber's body, then the Swordsman began to truly fight.

A slash upwards sent the Sword of Promised Victory careening up, still held in hand though almost lost, a second attack drawing first blood with a light cut across the King's face. A third slice blocked back by the recovered King, a clang like steel on steel resounding throughout the battlefield, then a stab glanced off the King's armor, a building collapsing behind her from the compressed air. Sparks flew as the two Servants battled, bone against steel, each Saber gong increasingly faster until they were nothing more than blurs to even their Masters.

It became apparent to both Servants that the Second Saber held the advantage, twin remains of the 4th War's Beast darting around the Holy Sword, striking and blocking against the First Saber. A spin, and the Fae blade was knocked aside, the King's eyes widening in shock before it was replaced by pain, the right bone sticking out of her chest, blood slowly leaking out of the wound. The sword was withdrawn, the left blade aiming to cut across the Knight King's eye, the blow dodged with an inch to spare.

The King of Knights let the air that covered her sword to dissipate, letting the hurricane fly into the Swordsman and everything behind him indiscriminately. The man flew, flipping multiple times before landing back upon the ground, instantly set upon by the Knight King again, the golden sword shown to the world again. The ground cratered underneath them with each exchange of blows, a somewhat content smile appearing on the Second Saber's face.

They both leapt apart, the right bone-sword thrown back to its original Master, and took a similar stance, sword raised above their head with both hands on the grip. Golden light gathered around the First Saber and her sword, the Second Saber accompanied only by a hollow wind, at almost the same time they brought down their swords. "Excalibur!"

A golden wave of light in a crescent spilled from the Holy Sword clashing against the compressed wind of the Bone-Blade, each at a standstill. There was an explosion, neither able to overcome the other despite the power behind the blows, a large smokescreen billowing out from the impact area. The smoke cleared, a trench and abyss marking where the two attacks had passed through, both Servants looking shocked that their Noble Phantasm hadn't won the exchange.

In another part of the vacant lot, the two Masters dueled one another, the First's sending blade after blade of wind at the Second, countered by conjured blade after conjured blade that broke on contact with each blade of wind. Each sword was thrown on creation at the wind blades, both dissipating into prana visible to the naked eye, making a shower of glittering multi-colored dust fall where the two attacks connected.

The bone-sword came flying from the Servants' battle, with a twirl the Ancestor Killer caught his blade, bringing the bone down with a similar smile to his Servant. The Vice-Director leapt to the side, watching with a blank look as the wave came, followed by the trench and the building behind her gaining a cut halfway through the structure. Her eyes flickered back to the boy, eyes widening as he was only two meters from her, his half-lidded stare and content smile oddly frightening.

Faster than even she could see the bone was slicing through her flesh, a cough of blood coming from her mouth, then another slash barely missing her neck, and another attack, a stab through the abdomen. The mithril gauntlet blocked two of the next strikes, furrows appearing in the strong metal, three more drawing blood across her chest, back and left arm. The bone was spun to be held in a reverse-grip then thrust to impale her in the heart.

A splash of blood joined the red liquid upon the ground, followed by the body of Lorelei Barthomeloi sliding back, still breathing with a hole just to the left of her heart, a stab through her left lung. Another strike forcibly closed her right eye, a thin vertical line just a centimeter from the center of her eye, a kick sent her skidding backwards, gauntleted hand covering her eye for a moment. A snarl worked its way on her face, the hand dropping from her face and sending a barrage of wind blades at the Master of the Second Saber, each blocked by the blade even as the remains bored cuts into his skin.

The Second Saber kept attacking with a frenzy unsuited to the once-calm warrior, each of his blows drawing trivial amounts of blood, slash after slash ripping through armor and flesh. The sword prepared to stab through the King's chest, his opponent's blade moving to deflect the blow. The sword was too late, the blade plunged into the King's body then stopped, tip just shy of reaching her heart. She leapt back while the Greatest Swordsman stood as still as a statue, green eyes dull and lifeless, the Disease had claimed him again, at least this time he had passed his title onto another, and with that, Mitsu passed on into the Void.

With a spin Shirou slashed horizontally, the gauntlet moving to defend against the attack. A shattering of metal was heard followed by a spray of blood, the Vice-Director fell to the ground, her arm sliced off directly beside her amidst pieces of mithril, blood pooling under her even as she attempted to stand again. Shirou walked over, his normal apathetic look in place and bone raised high, the blow stopped just a second before it would have connected by a holy sword. Glancing to the left revealed the First Saber, breathing heavily with several wounds scattered around her body, looking past her showed the Second Saber, slowly dissipating into Prana.

The Ancestor Killer leapt back, face still blank while looking at the pair in front of him. "… I shall not fail… I can not fail… For if I do… Ilya-nee… Sakura… Caren… None of them can be brought back…" His left hand rose, prana manifesting and creating the desired shape, a perfect replica of his sword appearing in his hand, eyes closing for a brief moment. The Saber charged forward intent on winning the fight and War, the bone sword was raised in response, then another exchange began between the Servant and once-Master.

Bone rang against steel once more, each side no closer to winning than during the first exchanges of the battle a minute earlier. It changed when the blade Excalibur took off the boy's right arm and sleeve, a spray of blood and ripped fabric accompanying the arm and blade. Rather than flinch or retreat, the boy continued his assault, bone-sword drawing blood from the King's wrist then her other wrist, allowing the Holy Sword to be dropped. A flick up sent the bone into the other sword, a kick embedding the sword within its own wielder, a look of shock and surprise on her face as she began fading away, faintly noticing the three red tears moving from his left eye.

The conjured bone-blade shattered, with a drunken-like grace the boy walked over to his arm, prying his beloved blade from the severed limb. He staggered past the Vice-Director, intent on reaching the Grail that formed just within the halls ahead. His sword hung loosely from his hand, scraping against the ground, the red life-liquid dripping from where he lost his right arm and the hundreds of wounds criss-crossing his flesh, then he turned around the corner and caught sight of three things.

The first was that of the boy from ten years ago sitting atop a pillar with a single leg hanging, long violet hair kept together only by the black bow, still looking from behind his blindfold, the boy's eyes slightly widening at his current state behind the cloth. The Second was the Saber from the last War, and this War's Ruler, pure white skin making up his right side while the left was black with red and violet veins, still wearing the brown cloak that hid the majority of his body while having discarded the bandages that covered the curses willing taken. The Third was the Grail, the golden relic that shone with radiance, the relic that would grant him his wish.

He walked up to the Grail, placing the sword above the grail similar to how the Remnant had ten years prior. "Holy Grail, I give you my wish… Grant life back to Sakura Matou, Caren Hortensia, and Illyasviel Emiya… turn back the clock to when they were alive and well." Then the boy collapsed to the ground, breathing lightly as he slowly fell to the side, a smile growing on the dying teen's face as the bone clattered against the stone as it slipped through his fingers. His breathing stilled, yet the Grail did not light up the room with its radiance while fulfilling his wish, instead it remained inert not being able to accomplish a wish the boy didn't know how to complete. The 'Master' then watched as the Ruler walked forward to where the boy had stood mere seconds before, looking softly to the side at the corpse with warmth in both eyes before focusing on the Grail.

"Holy Grail. I present the winner of your war, and his wish. Though his wish can never be performed by himself, I will ask it in his stead. Bring life back to those he named as they were before their passing." This time the Grail provided a reaction, slowly lighting the room up in an ever-brighter gold as the prana contained within grew greater and greater before being unleashed, the wish granted both the Grail and the prana remaining slowly fading away. The Servant lingered for a short while longer, kneeling down beside the dead teen and gently sliding the white hand over the boy's face, not saying a word as he dispersed into motes of violet and black.

The Grail War ended with one last death.

He carved through flesh and metal, wood and bone. He kept searching for one to pass on his dream to, to keep his legacy alive. None of them were worthy of the dream, both they and he knew that, they also knew that the man had little time left.

Mitsu was in a frenzy, swords drawing blood with each strike, his own blood leaked from his mouth while a single bloody tear streamed down from his left eye. Without warning he stopped, just barely avoiding killing another of the Endakai, his weapons remained clutched in his hands as he stood like a statue.

The Endakai surrounding him bowed their heads, moving off to repent against the sins they were forced to commit by the rest of the world, the moons above falling down. They welcomed Death with open arms, happy to be absolved of the crime the other nations forced upon them, their blessing coming when the world died along with them.

Four days after end of the 5th War-

She hadn't immediately left like the other Magi from the Clocktower, she had one last thing to do before she could leave, and that was speaking a final time with the only Human capable of besting her in a battle. Her opponent may be dead, but that didn't mean she couldn't give her words to his grave, which is one of the two reasons she had remained, the other being… a result of her last encounter with the boy, namely taking care of her severe injuries. She had opted to get a strip of white cloth to cover her missing right arm, roughly shaped into the form of a half-cloak so that she wouldn't have to deal with the lesser Magi in the Clocktower incessantly questioning her on how she had lost the limb.

Striding up the pathway towards the church, she didn't bat an eye at the white-haired girl walking past still gripped by grief, nor of the man accompanying her that gave only a small nod of acknowledgement, they wouldn't want her empty words. Passing tombstone after tombstone, scanning the names for only those of importance and briefly stopping only once to look at the grave of the last Tohsaka before moving on, eventually finding the grave she searched for by its lonesome next to a tree. Silence passed by the minutes as she simply stood in front of the grave marked simply as Shirou, a light wind brushing along her allowing her make-shift cloak rustle softly before she finally began.

"Ancestor-killer, two years ago you took my prey from me, murdered the monster in front of my sight and had it not been for the remainder of her brood to attempt fleeing away from us, I would have fought you then and there. Shortly before the last of the Dead were destroyed you disappeared, leaving my anger to boil and a grudge to fester until this War began, yet my grudge will remain unfulfilled." Her remaining hand tightened in barely restrained rage, blood welling around the palm as her nails dug into the skin, a calming breathe taken to ease her anger succeeding only slightly as she continued on speaking. "Not only will my grudge remain incomplete, but you beat me in combat, even when your Servant expired before my own, so despite my rage at you beating me and taking my prey, I admit to you being the better warrior."

Another wind blew through the cemetery, gliding along the grass and past Lorelei as she stared at the grave, her eyes blinking once slowly before she began turning to leave, a pause taken to say one final thing to the corpse. "Though I acknowledge you as my better in combat, I will continue to hate your being and carry my grudge until death. Goodbye Shirou of the Emiya clan, may we never meet again." The cloth rustled again as she completed her turn, not bothering to acknowledge the priestess as she passed by her on the walk back, her task done she made her way out of the cemetery and church, continuing on back to the Hyatt Hotel to prepare for her departure the next day. Little thought was given to what awaited her back in London, she was well aware of what the bickering nobles would tell her for her actions during the War, not even mentioning the Church if they wished to push the issue with the various Nobles. A low sigh left her mouth at the single thought, already imagining the headache that awaited her but resigned to the fate, once again she would have to play to traditions and rules simply for her family pride, but that was more than worth the annoyance of this event.

Class: Saber

Master: Shirou 'Emiya'

Name: Mitsu

Title(s): He Who Cut the Mountains, the Greatest Swordsman

Gender: Male

Alignment: True Neutral

Stats-

Strength: A-

Endurance: B+

Agility: A+

Mana: E

Luck: D-

Noble Phantasms: A

Class Skills-

Magic Resistance: -, skill has been lost due to no interactions with Magic and a natural avoidance of the art.

There was never a time he was struck by magic, moving out of the way before they came close to harming him.

Riding: -, Skill has been lost due to never having ridden any vehicle or mount.

Never did he ever ride, preferring to walk beside his King and brother upon the ground.

Personal Skills-

Prana Burst D (A): (This ability is used in an incomplete manner and utilized alongside Reinforcement to the point of near breaking a weapon [Treated as several ranks down due to haphazard technique and breaking of most weapons used in such a manner])

He abhorred the usage of magic, yet even he knew that mana flowed through his veins and sought to make use of it, imbuing the swords he carelessly wielded with enough magic to tear them apart if they were held for too long.

Bravery: A, Bonus effect of increasing melee damage

Not once did he retreat, not once did he falter, to do so would mean he would never obtain his wish and desire.

Noble Phantasms-

The Greatest Swordsman, Unsurpassed Skill: A, there was none amongst Dreaas that could best him in weaponcraft, most notably swords. Has the same effect as Reinforcement and Prana Burst when using a drawn weapon, while only giving Reinforcement when using a sheathed weapon. Durability of weapons goes down considerably while being drawn and often will be broken after only two attacks excepting those with increased durability. If enough prana is put in the blade then an attack will travel as an near-invisible wave until it hits something or dissipates, most often utilizing it in this way will instantly destroy the weapon after the attack is loosed.

He trained for years, dedicating his life to surpassing all in the ways of the sword until he became the greatest, becoming hollow and purposeless the moment he accomplished his desire.

The Unknown Disease, the End of a Legend: E, the death of Mitsu was expected, the way he died wasn't. Instead of dying as a warrior, he was brought low by a simple disease. During the War he has a limited time amongst the Servants, having 2 weeks and six days, at most, to fight from the moment he is summoned.

He fought against the Endakai, and at its climax he simply collapsed, the disease taking his life before he could accomplish his dream, that of finding one to pass his title onto through their killing of him.

Class: Saber, Berserker

Master: Illyasviel von Einzbern (Ilya Emiya)

Name: Kodomo

Title(s): the Child-king, Bloody Angel, the Monster that Protects

Gender: Male

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Stats-

Strength: B-

Endurance: B

Agility: A-

Mana: C+

Luck: A

Noble Phantasms: A-

Class Skills-

Mad Enhancement: D, Strength and Endurance parameters are up.

Within the fractured mind of the Child-king lies a great madness, forsaking himself and his sanity to protect those he loves.

Personal Skills-

Magic Resistance: B, Cancel spells with a chant below three verses. Even if targeted by High-Thaumaturgy and Greater Rituals, it is difficult for him to be affected. Due to 'Mad Mens' Desires, Light of the Insane Child' Kodomo is affected by Shadow and Darkness spells and abilities doubly and Magic Resistance has no effect on them.

His body made from light could handle all but the Dark, so it was that his Shadow became his shield.

Battle Continuation: A, Makes possible to fight even with deadly injuries and can remain alive so long as one does not receive a decisive fatal wound.

His body was littered with wounds, yet still he fought on, for his life held no meaning in his mind, and none were able to persuade him otherwise.

Mental Pollution: C+

He was tortured within the labs of the Mad Men for months when he was but a child, he lost his ability to grow up because of them, though he paid them back when he lead the Escape.

Charisma: B, Suitable for a king of a country.

He gathered together the Outcasts of the World, bringing them together and embracing them as family, so he did for his Fiancé and her Family as well, always playing with his little siblings and Fiancé, and never once asking for anything more than if they would enjoy being family.

Pioneer of the Stars: EX

He challenged the God of the Dead when his siblings died, accepting his challenge and succeeding in bringing them back, he bested the Twin God(dess)s in their game of Order and Chaos, He rewrote the strands of Fate to their original course multiple times, and earned the Firstborn's approval and entry into the place denied to all Humanity two days before he and the world perished.

Divinity: B-

Within his veins flowed the magic of the First God, a proclamation that showed Dreaas Kodomo would rise above all others and die shortly after to rest alongside the First God in his Tomb.

Noble Phantasms-

Mad Mens' Desires, Light of the Insane Child: B-, the 'gift' given by those that had imprisoned Kodomo in his youth, his entire body is fundamentally made from light instead of flesh and blood. While it makes Kodomo immune to several forms of magic, including Blood, Light and Bone magics, it has the adverse effect of making him vulnerable to Dark and Banishing magics.

They turned his flesh, blood and bones to light, then turned it back, they kept experimenting upon the boy until he snapped and broke free from his shackles.

Iro, My Brother and Shadow: A-, the being that resides as the Child-king's shadow. Iro is always summoned and can become a humanoid figure made from shadow that obtains skills similar to Kodomo's (Divinity, Battle Continuation, Mental Pollution, and Magic Resistance [except to Light and Banishment]). 'Killing' Iro causes Kodomo to activate Mad Enhancement and refuse most orders from master, including an order enforced by a single Command Seal.

Iro lost his entire body to the Mad Men, he earned retribution because of Kodomo and found purpose alongside another becoming the first sibling of the Insane Child.

Unknown Knife, that which made Everything Mortal: B, A Noble Phantasm taking the shape of a butcher's knife with a blurry cloud-like pattern along the metal, while its origins are unknown even to its wielder, the Child-King has used it since the beginning of his journey to the very end ensuring his own demise. Its abilities were assumed to come from the first victim it claimed, the twin brother of Kodomo, who was rapidly dissolving into dust. The nature of the weapon is highly effective against beings that are spirits, elementals or animated constructs as it forcibly makes the target into a living creature for as long as the blade touches their form. Also has the effect of removing all forms of Magic Resistance and Regeneration from the target for three minutes after an attack has landed (Does not stack with multiple wounds, merely refreshing the timer.)

The Child-King looked out over the army meant to kill them, then back at his family before smiling and taking out his beloved knife, plunging the weapon into his leg and leaving it there, crimson liquid dripping down to the ground before he skipped away into the hell to come.

The 'Mask' of Insanity, Delusions of the Child: E, The reflection of being one of those that held the being who created Dreaas main concepts and emotions. Kodomo was created with the intention of anchoring the being's reality by placing all of the being's insanity inside a single person. The 'Mask' merely dictates what emotion/concept the person holds and experiences most often, the only time a 'Mask' was known to reject their concept was when Kodomo lost three of his family to Death, becoming apathetic to everything and giving no meaning to his own life.

His mind broke, and yet the child that made Dreaas poured his insanity into a single being, hoping that they would forgive him for the deed.

Class: Caster, Berserker

Master: Sakura Matou

Name: Usagi

Title(s): Keeper of Rabbits, the Rabbit of Ice and Fire

Gender: Female

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral/Neutral Evil

Stats-

Strength: C-

Endurance: B-

Agility: D+

Mana: A+ (EX)

Luck: D

Noble Phantasms: A

Class Skills-

Territory Creation: B, creation of a 'Workshop' becomes possible.

Within the glade filled with sunlight, the girl made of fire and ice tended the rabbits, that was her home and only those she allowed would remain alive in her domain.

Item Construction: E-, beyond animating and giving sentience to simple puppets, cannot make Mystic codes or any form of Magical instrument.

She made the two puppets to be her voices, rather than let others hear her own voice, the puppets took on a life of their own and essentially became their own beings.

Personal Skills-

Divinity: E-, was hailed as a patron of rabbits despite being a Mortal.

Usagi was mortal, yet was hailed as a deity, the Gods and Goddesses did not mind, and she did not care to change the people's minds.

Magecraft: B, capable of utilizing many different forms of Fire and Ice magics

She was a being that merely performed magics to defend those that lived in her domain, using Fire and Ice to leave no trace of invaders.

Nature of a Rebellious Spirit: A

Never did she know of any kings which caught her interest, nor did she deign herself a queen, instead merely resigning to living a life of isolation and wandering.

Noble Phantasms-

Lea and Ael, the Voices of the Keeper: E (A), two rabbit puppets that act as Usagi's voices when required. Both are key to unlocking the massive wells of mana available to her along with showing their true form and her own.

The crying black puppet and the giggling white puppet, once upon a time a rabbit of fire and rabbit of ice, given human emotions at the expense of their Mistress's own, they were friends to the Keeper, they were what kept her tied to reality, all were monsters in the eyes of man.

Class: Archer

Master: Kishur Zeltrech Schweinorg

Name: Alleyne

Title(s): The First Hero of the Second Age, the First Outcast.

Gender: Female

Alignment: True Neutral

Stats-

Strength: D

Endurance: C-

Agility: B+

Mana: E

Luck: C

Noble Phantasms:

Class Skills-

Magic Resistance: -

Beyond her artifact, she never encountered a magic-user, many merely rediscovering magic from the First Age after its untimely end at the hands of Humanity.

Independent Action: EX

She was unlike her people who toiled in the farms underground, she was a loner and a mercenary, she was an Outcast of her own accord, an adventurer and Hero.

Personal Skills-

Collector: D

Alleyne was known to obtain any and all firearms through any means so long as they fit within the description of a musket.

Noble Phantasms-

Deanil, the Vault of Muskets: B, a small pure-black Dodecahedron found at her left hip, it is an item that was known to hold any item or object within it in a stasis-like state. The most notable usage of its functions was the holding of hundreds of muskets and releasing them to perform a barrage on enemies, though this was used only in battles where enemies had overwhelmingly numerical superiority.

Her hand danced along the surface of the artifact, the sky behind her suddenly filled with innumerable muskets, two fell into her hands and the vault's contents made their mark once more.

Class: Lancer, Berserker

Master: Caren Hortensia

Name: Ningyō

Title(s): the Child Demon, Demon-Construct

Gender: Male?

Alignment: True Neutral

Stats-

Strength: A

Endurance: A

Agility: A-

Mana: B

Luck: D-

Noble Phantasms:

Class Skills-

Magic Resistance: B, Cancel spells with a chant below three verses. Even if targeted by High-Thaumaturgy and Greater Rituals, it is difficult for him to be affected.

It was unknown if he was a construct or a demon, even those amongst the realm of Lucifer and the lands of the Magitates did not know where he came from or what he was.

Battle Continuation: A, Makes possible to fight even with deadly injuries and can remain alive so long as one does not receive a decisive fatal wound.

The… thing, would not bleed, no matter how many wounds were put on it, no matter the amount in weapons embedded in it, it simply would not die.

Personal Skills-

N/A

Noble Phantasms-

Uncertain Origins, the Mystery of the Demon-Construct: E, The stories told about Ningyō were often in the realm of wild fantasies even by Dreaas's standards. Every story told contradicted another until nothing was certain about the being known as Ningyō. The only effect of this phantasm is the randomization of his stats when seen by another, even if his name is known. This Noble Phantasm is always active and cannot be revealed except at the Master's discretion.

It didn't know what it was, nor did anyone else understand it either, it simply was and nothing could be known for certain, only the Gods knew and they were busy doing as they wished, as befitted their nature as chaotic beings.

Class: Assassin, Saber

Master: N/A

Name: Unknown

Title(s): Executioner of Ghost Hill

Gender: Male

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Stats-

Strength: C

Endurance: C

Agility: C-

Mana: D

Luck: E

Noble Phantasms: B

Class Skills-

Presence Concealment: A+, It is possible to disappear completely and become almost impossible to be detected. However, efficiency will decrease once preparations to attack are taken.

Within the ruins of his home none were able to find him, often dying without realizing they had been assailed.

Personal Skills-

Independent Action: EX

He refused to pass on into the Realm of Necropolis, trapping himself and those he slaughtered within their old homes, waiting to right a wrong of equal magnitude to the one he caused years before.

Noble Phantasms-

Ghost Hill: B, a Reality Marble of his home and haunting place, it is a simple town with an executioner's platform in the middle of the town square. While within the Marble, Assassin gains one rank in all stats barring Noble Phantasm, Luck and Mana. Assassin can only use this Noble Phantasm with the aid of a Command Seal.

He was forced to kill people he knew every day upon the platform, eventually snapping when he was forced to kill his beloved wife, he killed all that were sent to stop him, and impaled himself upon his swords once all were gone beyond himself. That place was haunted forever since.

Class: Rider, Saber

Master: Luviagelita Edelfelt (Luvia Edelfelt)

Name: Kizoku

Title(s): 4th seat Noble of Ronde, Commander of the 1st and 2nd Legions

Gender: Male

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Stats-

Strength: B-

Endurance: B-

Agility: B+

Mana: C+

Luck: E+

Noble Phantasms: A

Class Skills-

Riding: A, All creatures but those of Phantasmal Beast and Divine Beast can be used as mounts. This rank is high enough to have aptitude for the Rider Class.

First and foremost he was a knight, having charged across the battlefield atop various mounts and piloted the mystical airships his nation was known for.

Magic Resistance: D, Cancel Single-Action spells. Magic Resistance of the same degree of an amulet that rejects magical energy.

He knew little of the arts of magic, the closest he had ever witnessed was the Child-King's light and that could not be counted upon as true magic.

Personal Skills-

Bravery: A+, Bonus effect of increasing melee damage.

He knew he would die, yet it was his duty to continue on regardless, and so he went forth and fought until his body stilled.

Charisma: E, Leadership skills increase, but the morale of troops decreases extremely

They knew they would die, and so he spurred them on citing only one short speech before he left them. "We are damned, attacking the ones we sheltered for years or disobeying orders from the high Nobles. I do not wish upon any of you this curse so leave if you wish, I understand. I cannot shirk from my duty so regardless if you all stay or all leave I will go forward, and I shall continue until my life leaves me."

Noble Phantasms-

Bound by Duty, Twin Legions marked by Grief: A, During his life Rider was given command of two armies, each roughly around 10,000 men at their lowest, armed with swords, spears, shields and crossbows. Invoking this Noble Phantasm is used only as a last resort as doing so will eat through prana at a fast pace, even with his Master supplying prana or utilizing a command seal. This Noble Phantasm acts as a Reality Marble similar to Iskandar's, though in the case of a Reality Marble already being up prana usage decreases by half. The Reality Marble invoked is a simple plain with grass colored black and white.

Not a single man or woman deserted him, their armor of cobalt and weapons of blackened steel and ash-touched wood prepared to face their last enemy, no cheers rose from their ranks, no warcries or shouts, only silence as they took upon themselves the cursed task placed on their Commander.

Damudo no jūden-ki, Cursed Horse of Impending Death: B-, An incorporeal horse holding no meaning of existence or death, those it appeared to and allowed to ride upon its back died the day they came in contact with it. This Phantasm is invoked independent of its wielder's wishes, and will only appear on the day he is destined to die. Invoking the Phantasm guarantees the wielder's death, either by battle or through an 'accident' of some manner, with the only exceptions being applied to those with A-rank Luck or higher.

He wasn't surprised to see a horse that never was meant to exist and yet did, he knew of the legends surrounding the creature and knew whatever he did, he was to die this day.

Class: Ruler, Saber, Caster, Berserker

Master: Blackwing (Harry Potter), Holy Grail

Name: Unknown

Title(s): Remnant of Nothing, First God of Dreaas

Gender: Unknown (Referred as a He)

Alignment: Neutral

Stats-

Strength: B- (A+)

Endurance: C+ (A+)

Agility: B+ (B)

Mana: EX

Luck: A- (E-)

Noble Phantasms: B (EX)

Class Skills-

Magic Resistance: A (EX), Cancel spells of A-Rank or below. In practice, the Servant is untouchable to modern magi, so it would not be an exaggeration to title the Servant a "Magus Killer".

He was known to have introduced Magic to Dreaas alongside creating it from nothing, while the armor he wore nullified it completely when it formed.

True Name Discernment: B (EX), (When encountering one from Dreaas, Remnant will automatically know the Servant despite any capacity to hide one's identity)

While he dreamed he saw and knew all among his Origin's beloved world, he watched them with a smile, never able to see his children in person.

God's Resolution: A (Unused due to wanting to merely observe alongside Blackwing)

He was merely an Observer, he had no wish to interfere if it did not concern him, his children, his friends or his home.

Personal Skills-

Independent Action: A+, Servant can remain in this world indefinitely even without a Master. However, in order to activate his Noble Phantasm, it is necessary to first acquire an extra supply of prana from alternative sources.

He knew no master, nor bowed to any, neither Mortal King nor Alaya and Gaia held any sway over his actions nor that of Dreaas.

Territory Creation: EX (-),

Known as the creator of Dreaas as well as the six dimensions connected to it, Remnant made his world from dust and thought, also making the area were his tomb would belong which only the Second God and himself are able to access.

Mad Enhancement: – (B), Rank up for all parameters, but takes away most of sanity.

Within the armor made from Its Madness, he reminded them why he held the maddening beast within his soul.

Battle Continuation: A (A+), Makes possible to fight even with deadly injuries and can remain alive so long as one does not receive a decisive fatal wound.

His body once held no heart, a left arm, his chest and the left side of his head, no blood flowed through his body, now they are taken up by the Curses of Angra Mainyu and still no blood flows, he is merely a shell.

Charisma: A (-), Can be said to have achieved the greatest level of popularity as a human being.

He created them and loved them as his children, even when he was struck by them he still loved them and would not strike them back, they loved him as their Father and would follow him no matter the reason.

Divinity: EX

He was hailed as the First God, the creator of Dreaas, and the one that tamed the Maddening Beast, He is revered by those among Dreaas and the realms connecting to it as Fate, Origin, Void, and Madness.

Ultimate One: - (EX), While on Gaia receives no bonus, when within Dreaas will gain full effects.

He created that place, It gave him its power to repay its eternal debt for existence.

Noble Phantasms-

Sword made from Memory, Reum: D, a silver steel broad sword, the blade is a culmination of every beings' history from the world Dreaas. While not having any specific powers or abilities the sword is unbreakable except to Anti-World or higher Noble Phantasms, Not usable while 'Armor of Madness, Nedetes' is active.

It held the memories of the being he once was, alongside all those that inhabited the world Dreaas, making it the perfect library of the world.

Armor of Madness, Nedetes: B, a suit of armor made of overlapping plates of metal, the armor is a mixture of white and black being completely random in the 'texture' of the scheme. This armor can only be summoned when enraged and replaces Remnant's body when formed, granting Mad Enhancement (B), Battle Continuation (A+), Magic Resistance (EX), and boosting Strength and Endurance to (A+). Removes Charisma and Territory Creation, alongside bringing Agility down one rank and Luck to (E-).

The armor that came into being when the beast was merged with the Remnant, It was never once broken and the sight caused all of his children to know to stay away.

Blade of Light, Kodomo: B-, a pure-black sword named in honor of the Child-king of Dreaas, most forms of light are able to be manipulated while wielding the blade. Only usable when 'Armor of Madness, Nedetes' is active, Replaces 'Sword made from Memory, Reum'.

The Child-king was amongst the greatest of the Remnant's children, rivaling and challenging the Gods and Goddesses numerous times over his brief life of 15 years, Remnant created this sword alongside the Second God to cement the Boy's legend.

Blade of Darkness, Iro: B-, a pure-white sword named in honor of the Child-king's Shadow and first brother, most forms of darkness are able to be manipulated while wielding the blade. Only usable when 'Armor of Madness, Nedetes' is active, Replaces 'Sword made from Memory, Reum'.

The Denizen of Darkness was little known and mainly a rumor, he would always make the Child-king laugh and play despite not saying a word, He died alongside his brother shielding his body from further weapons, Remnant created this sword alongside the Second God to cement the Being's legend.

Maddening Beast of Nothing, Nesaia: EX, a creature that Remnant bound to his soul, it threatened to destroy Dreaas during its beginning years were it not for the Remnant. The Beast takes the form of a ball of chains when first summoned. Gradually the Beast will free itself from the chains, starting with its arms then its head. The Beast itself is pure white with clawed hands and a faceless head that is only broken when the beast opens a spiked mouth. This Phantasm is only usable when 'Armor of Madness, Nedetes' is in use.

The Beast and God fought for months, neither gaining an advantage, then the Remnant's children came to his aid, and the Beast was imprisoned within soul of the First God.

Dreaas, My World of Dreams: EX, The manifestation of the being that was to become Remnant's dreams and thoughts, this Noble Phantasm is a Realty Marble that encompasses three ages and seven dimensions that all connect to the world Dreaas. When active any being/creature/place/group/nation is able to be summoned from Dreaas's history and lore, ranging from men of metal to creatures of death and undeath to angels, demons and fallen. This Phantasm is unable to be used in conjunction with the 'Maddening Beast of Nothing, Nesaia'.

That place where the trees are made from crystal and stone, where the grass is black as night and white as snow, the sky is red with a shattered moon and two others, that place where a young boy wandered in his youth, creating a world for his Children and their Children.

The Last 'Mask', a Child's Fate: E, the reflection of being a fragment of the being who created Dreaas. The Remnant was the last 'Mask' to be 'born', coming into being from the child's body and embodying the concept of Nothing. While normally only dictating what concept/emotion an individual feels, due to 'possessing' the body of the child he was 'born' of, he is able to feel slight amounts of happiness and sadness.

The child's body faded to Dreaas, the eyes opened but the boy was gone, the Remnant woke up and proceeded to create the world the child envisioned.

The Curses of Angra Mainyu, One last Sacrifice: A, during the 4th Holy Grail War, the Remnant used his wish to become the container of 'All the World's Evil'. Doing so has granted him the lost portions of his body along with the abilities of every evil known to Man or Gods. While he will occasionally unveil his recovered body parts, the curses are bound tightly and are not allowed to be utilized in any form.

He was a fragment, he knew however what his Origin and Father would have wanted, and so made his choice.

AN: Hope you enjoyed this story, this marks the end of the main story, though there still is the interactions left to do. If any of you who have read this story wish for any particular interaction to take place, as I said earlier, I shall attempt my best to bring that scene to life. I will say that that this is my second and last story upon this wonderful place, I'll be working on another project of mine once I've finished this fully, so until that point I'm here to stay.

Goodnight and Goodbye. Happy Dreams.

Edit: As of 4/16/16 The first set of interactions have been added. Grammar has been addressed across the chapters.