A/N: It took me six months to get back; I'm so sorry. Here is chapter three! Yeah, I know; it's really short. I'm just in the process of reviving my fan girl mode (again), so I'll make it up to you guys in the next chapters. I'M VERY, VERY SORRY. Anyway, I'm back! xoxo

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FATE/ZERO AND ITS CHARACTERS.

EINZBERN CASTLE (V)

Birds chirped at the break of dawn. Soft rays passed through shattered glass, illuminating the castle ruins. With the chaos finally subsided, minds were cleared and energy replenished. A promising ambiance enveloped the air; surely, there was what they call the calm after a storm. The last event the walls of the establishment recalled was a tension-filled confrontation between two forces. Kotomine Kirei almost made his way to Emiya Kiritsugu, but due to an abrupt twist of events, the fateful encounter was prevented. Now that counter offenses are set, no one would carelessly assault an opponent directly— which was why words were the only way to make the table turn.

"It's an advantageous treaty, yes?" She beamed after having finished her proposition.

Irisviel contemplated on the girl's actions, on why she would want to collaborate with them instead of the other Masters. "And if we refused?"

She tilted her head, slightly surprised at the question. "Well, I'll have Saber removed from the Holy Grail War right away."

The Caucasian woman kept a straight face. She gracefully poured her second cup of tea. "The alliance seems to be too favorable for Kiritsugu; what will you benefit from this?"

"I'll have more options available in the process, then. You see, I won't be worried about your husband tailing behind me while waiting for a perfect kill— like the last time." The green fairy took a sip before continuing. Her slender fingers were a nice match for the English setting, soft and pleasing to the eyes. "Besides, seeing Saber more often brings me some good memories."

This time, Irisviel was the one who cocked her head to one side. "What do you mean?"

Ceri kindly smiled. "Can't you tell?"

Warmth began to spread across the small room. From the strained air a while ago, a sense of trust waved past. Irisviel's intuition told her that Lancer's Master was not a despicable character, nor would she mean harm on anyone unless provoked. Of course, in the current situation, she had no choice but to agree— Saber's left hand was still under the curse of Gae Dearg; retorting to fight head on right then and there would be suicidal.

"If we are to ally with one another, what of Saber's hand?" She voiced out.

"No." As plain as that, she responded, still with a smile on her face. "I won't undo what has been done, but I'll definitely compensate for the damage while we're on the same boat."

"Hm?"

As the two females conversed inside, Lancer and Saber stood by the foot of the grand stairs. Debris of the high walls remained by the marble floor, reminding the knight in teal of what happened back then. Replaying it in his mind, he vividly recollected the aircraft's ballistic missiles; everything that got struck turned to ashes. His Master was practically dancing to avoid getting hit to death, while the pilot laughed maniacally, as if enjoying the sight of her in such distress. It angered Lancer, so he cut the massive aerial motor vehicle. It split into three major pieces, each falling like leaves from a branch in autumn. When he looked at the front segment, the aviator was nowhere to be seen. The Servant assumed that he fell to his end, but he didn't have the opportunity to scour the land to confirm it because he rushed to his Master's side. As he sighed in recalling her disappointed gaze, Saber took a step forward, which brought him back to the present.

Finding the composure to talk, he began. "Saber, I truly am sorry for leaving you alone to chase Caster the other night."

She paced about, examining the wreckage. "We almost eliminated him had he not fled. It was a pity to let it pass, but I still think your Master's well-being is more important."

He simply nodded in agreement.

"Which reminds me," She turned to Lancer and locked eyes with him. "Do you know who warned us a second before the missile landed back at the warehouse?"

The spearman shook his head. "I only saw a man in black suit, and my Master mentioned nothing of the incident. Everything was a blur for me after the explosion."

'Black suit?' Her brows creased. She had an image formed in her head, but she didn't pursued asking. Her stare shifted down at the soiled carpet, looking problematic.

A door from the second floor opened. Lancer spun around, waiting for his Master. Saber blinked and glanced at her fellow Servant, noting the abrupt movement and sudden change of expression when the green-haired lady appeared from the corner. He had this certain gleam in his eyes, and the way his mouth curved slightly made her look up. A radiating grandeur greeted her. The petite figure wore a white chiffon dress with its lower edges burnt unevenly; it reached just a few inches above her knee. The wide sleeves puffed up as she swayed her arms freely, and the flip flops made odd sounds as she descended. Her hair fluttered behind while the black tie on her left side kept her looking neatly in front. Saber didn't notice how she gawked at the fairy, and that Irisviel was just behind her. She never had the time to fully look at her until now. The strikingly soft features reminded her of someone, but she couldn't exactly remember the individual. Right from their first encounter, she had an alarming inkling on that Master's identity. Who could she possibly be?

"Let's go for a walk!" She gave her best smile and hassled down.

ABANDONED BUILDING (V)

"We're a few hours late." The kid mused.

He ran inside the tumbledown establishment, the arms on his side making an up and down motion, mimicking a flying bird. Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the entire place, creating a series of arranged sounds. He circled around a specific place upon reaching the heart of the ground floor, giggling as doing so. His cowboy hat fell, but he didn't mind picking it up— a female figure collected it for him. Dressed in business attire, she readjusted her rectangular eyeglass frame. Everything she wore was in black, and the only things that had color were her hair and eyes. She took a thorough inspection then; tracing the walls and breathing the air inside, her being amalgamated with the quarters. The child watched her in disgust, seeing it as a tedious deed. With his slingshot, he fired a bottle cap at her bottom.

"Cian!" She barked.

He laughed and began running outside. "Catch me if you can!"

As his feet propelled him forward, his heart beat faster, heating up his tiny body. The lady, irritated at the mischief, chased after him with her heels tapping the cement.

When they reached the building's entrance, a man in his early 50's motionlessly stood on his ground, the dourness emanating in a way the two young ones were very familiar with.

"Father…" Catching her breath, she composed herself and curtsied.

Her flowing silver hair brushed gently on her little brother's face. "Hey, don't touch me!" He shoved off the strands, making a sour face.

"Report." The stern-looking man demanded both children, breaking the slack air.

They exchanged looks and faced their father formally. "She left no trace for us to follow— I couldn't draw out her magical energy anymore. This has been the last place where she used it, but there is fragmentation in the air. I… don't know where to start searching, sir." The sister responded.

Without further ado, he waved off his free hand. "Dismissed."

Obedient to the command and given no justice for a longer stay, they ghosted away.

The children's graceful and polite exit was predominated by the old man's presence. Although lovely and august, they remained three levels inferior. The patriarch's stature was that of an ancient pillar— even though withering with age, his character built up and sustained whatever he was holding dear. His ashen hair was swept neatly to the back, the creaseless suit on his wrinkled skin just fitting. A pair of wisdom-filled, grey eyes remained unyielding to the forces against him. He looked up the brightly lit sky, and, with one draw of breath, his stock-still figure came to life.

And there, sitting on top of the front column by the entrance, was another individual. His messy, ash brown hair and chocolate eyes were very warm, although he felt nothing but coldness from his core. The humid wind passed by his face, caressing him as he stared at the empty space above. By the looks of his jaded expression, it seemed that he had been waiting for a long while. His swaying legs were a sign of impatience, and the constant sighing did no good. Once the opportune moment of having a clearing was open, he steadied himself and jumped down. He landed lightly on the balls of his feet, feeling no pressure from the recoil at all. The glued gaze he kept at the sky broke, making an even more indifferent gaze at what was ahead of him.

"I'll be on my way…" Passively saying, he took a step toward the direction opposite the old man's position.

After letting him walk seven meters away, the authoritarian man spoke. "How many times have I told you to break ties with her?"

"Around nine times already, I think."

"You stubborn son of mine; you'll be my downfall."

The young lad turned his head, seeing the figure of his father in his peripheral vision, towering and unwavering. "I'll be on my way, father."

He had nothing to say. With his dull eyes trailing off, he sighed and went down the road with nothing particular in mind.

The middle-aged man stood motionlessly in front of the tumbledown building. His voice fell low, the corners of his mouth twisting ever so slightly. "Remember what we came here for…" Like a phantom in the wind, it traveled and echoed throughout the vicinity. He swore the teenaged boy heard it; he may have grinded his teeth in defiance, the man noted.

MACKNENZIE RESIDENCE (V)

Once again, Rider's booming laugh reverberated through the house walls. His amusement regarding the event last night still hasn't died down.

"Stop laughing, you idiot! He could have killed me back there!" The wimpy Englishman yelled.

Feeling the stomach cramps coming, the Servant tried to suppress his enjoyment while reprimanding his Master. "That's not true, boy. I highly doubt that Lancer's Master would command such a sly thing. You simply took the abrupt visit as an assault."

"But didn't you see the way he looked at me?! He was about to spear me if you showed up a minute later!" He insisted.

"I was already by the stairs when both of you sent your grandfather and grandmother off," The King of Conquerors waved off. "And the expression in Lancer's eyes was not murderous— he had determination in them."

Waver Velvet crossed his arms, refusing to accept the explanation. "Hmph. You're being too easy-going on everyone and everything. "

"Boy, don't be too narrow on interpretations. For a Servant to intentionally expose himself in an enemy lair is no casual walk." Iskandar closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "If Lancer's Master wanted you dead, then she could have torn you into pieces personally."

He gawked at the brawny figure, gulping as he remembered that night at the warehouse and imagined himself being sliced by the green-haired girl.

From above, seven points surrounding Berserker beamed simultaneously and began caging him inside. Huge amounts of energy were released from the seals, howling in the dead of the night. The location was perfect— the Master schemed this from the very beginning, planning to take down the enemy Servant where only those involved were to witness. Saber and her Master were standing firm on their ground, clothes and hair fluttering. Waver only gasped in amazement when Lancer's Master struck Berserker on the stomach, but he never expected something well-planned as this. The seven pillars blocked any possible escape routes for the mad Servant. Even if Berserker tried to slash his way out, the damage he'd cause would only return to him. Remaining gravely silent as he held the reins to his chariot, Rider looked over his Master and nodded in the silent understanding they both shared.

As Waver's eyes returned to the scene, he caught the girl's strained expression as she dashed to Berserker's position. She was already carrying her Servant's red spear, which was strange because she could have used the golden one to deliver a mortal wound instead. Lancer felt betrayed in the Englishman's observation; what happened in that blink-of-an-eye that Waver Velvet missed?

"Master…!" The Servant in teal shouted in alarm.

A hiss escaped her lips as she pivoted. Even with all the preparations and ambush against the Dark Servant, she still couldn't hold him down. She took a step back to dodge Berserker's large arm wildly swinging around.

Waver subconsciously squeezed on the chariot's edge, his mind racing. 'If they wanted to finish off Berserker, Lancer should have been the one to attack. Why did she even engage in the Servants' battle?! Even if she's… no, she can't kill him; that's just impossible. The barrier is strong, but if she gets wounded or if she loses her grounding, it's over.'

"Aah!" The green-haired Master yelped. Berserker was in a frenzy, and Lancer did nothing as his feet were stoned to the ground.

"What I the world is Lancer doing—" Waver panicked, turning to his Servant, but Rider was already in his bearings.

His tensed hand touched the hilt of his sword, readying himself for more turn of events. "They already lost the element of surprise."

The seemingly endless whirls of wind were of no help. The mad Servant was beginning to get immune to the force knocking his body, so he was slowly getting his normal pace back. He didn't attempt to break free from the barrier; rather, he has been trying to destroy the caster. Saber was still beyond the walls, fighting against the strong currents, making her useless in the fight. Rider clicked his tongue, slightly irritated at why Lancer didn't even budge when his Master was in danger. As he was about to charge in, however, he felt a different air rising. His oxen also sensed it as they became unstable. The King of Conquerors paused and watched carefully at the ongoing battle, now confused.

Berserker's weapon swung sideways, cutting the empty space where the little lady Master should have been. She bent low enough to miss the huge pole her enemy held. Cold sweat formed on her forehead, but nonetheless she kept her composure. Having missed the opportune moment to release the final strike, she discarded her former schemes. This time, little by little, she inched closer to where Lancer stood frozen, with her enemy's blows a hair strand's breadth away from her face or vital organs. The restricted Servant had no idea what would transpire from it, yet he prepared for the worse to come. If truth be told, he never agreed to have his Master do all the combat; if it weren't for her groundless reasons and the last-minute command spell for him to remain still, he wouldn't be as useless as a rock.

"Lancer!" It occurred all too quickly.

He saw Berserker aiming for his Master's heart while the fairy was tossing the red spear in midair. He saw everything clearly— it happened right before him. A second ago, they were at least five meters away; the next was a fast series of action.

Not noticing that the command spell has been lifted, the spearman instinctively evaded the hit directed at his Master and took her place. The girl flung herself to one side, throwing her body in the air as if she were to fly. Of course, she had no wings to soar, but before she would have fallen on the ground, her good foot drove her up again. With the boost she gained from that, she stationed herself on the left side of Berserker, who was then preoccupied with Lancer.

They were back to their initial phase, distracting the mad Servant, yet the female Master seemed pleased. Without any suspension, she aimed a shimmering arrow twice the standard size used in siege defenses at the wild Servant. Lancer found time to get surprised, but reacted swiftly on the opening. He let go of Gae Dearg, recalling his Master's strict instruction of her doing the actual damage to their enemies. She was unbelievably reliable in catching the spear; not a second lapsed before she took hold of it, piercing Berserker on the same spot where she hit him with the temporary weapon. Black ooze leaked from the side of his armor as he stiffened and dropped down on his knees. A small splotch stained the green fairy's face, calling attention to her emotionless eyes and timid yet icy curling of her lips.

A resounding wail covered the entire warehouse.

Waver Velvet swallowed hard as his brows met. "I don't want to see her again." He felt sick upon recalling the incident.

"Mm… the girl is a stunning magus, as you say. She could project weapons and handle a large scale barrier while learning her enemies' weakness. Honestly, she could be mistaken as a Servant too." Iskandar commended.

The wimp's scowl began to deepen. "That's exactly the problem! She shouldn't be able to do that. I don't know where she came from or how she did that, but it was just impossible for a—"

"—but she did, didn't she, boy?" He interrupted. "It doesn't matter. What's important is that we know the extents of her abilities. You should learn from her; observe the enemy well and use everything you know against him. It's one of the best tactics in war when you're favored with time!"

A loud pat in the back that sounded like thunder made Waver's spine tremble. He glowered at his Servant and met a huge encouraging grin. "We don't have that much time, idiot. Assassin is already eliminated, and Berserker almost died back then. The Holy Grail War is fast-paced; we can't just watch every Master and Servant until we discover their weaknesses."

"So do you imply that we should take action immediately?" Rider pounded his fist on the floor. He let out a disappointed sigh. "If you meant to do just that, then why did you decline the alliance offered by Lancer's Master? We could have accomplished things a lot more speedily."

"I told you that I don't trust her! There's something that I don't like about her." Waver exasperatedly complained. "I don't know. There's something really wrong about that girl…"

MATOU RESIDENCE (V)

"Kariya…" A scent of rotting meat came from the head of the Matou household. He lingered by the shadows, illuminated only by the dim rays of the moon.

The limping son abruptly stopped, turning to his father as if he'd just been called back to the land of the living. "What do you want, old man?" He barked.

"Follow me. We have something to discuss about."

It was odd for the dying man; usually, when he was being called, he'd only be ridiculed about his incompetency or lectured regarding his brash actions. Tonight, however, Matou Zouken was grim and had an urgent tone to his voice. The dark living room even accented his mood, ill and uninviting. Kariya had no choice but to oblige— the subject matter seemed crucial, and he could barely think clearly to resist his father's order.

"What is it about now?"

For a while, Zouken didn't respond. They passed through the corridors and a few rooms, walking at a snail's pace. When they reached a certain door, he responded. "If you want to keep Sakura alive, you'll have to play by that girl's game…"