A/N: Greetings! This is my first fanfic so, hehe... A few notes from the author before you decide to continue. I have watched (and/or have read) Fate/Zero, Fate/Strange Fake and Fate/Kaleid Liner but I honestly don't know all that there is to know about the Fate series and the Fate universe so if there are things that are not consistent, please let me know. (Nicely, if possible, please.)

There will be two main OC characters who will be replacing Ryuunosuke and Caster (I really wish those two characters were given more screen time.) So, because there are two new characters who may or may not be somewhat aligned with the original, there will be some shifts in the plot. However, I will try my best to stick with the original as much as possible.

I really don't know how often I will be able to update due to schoolwork but I will try to get an update at least twice a month.

Anyways, I can't think of anything else to warn you about. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think; it will be most appreciated. Enjoy!

Prologue Part 1: Getting Hired

Three Years before the Fourth Holy Grail War, Iranian Kurdistan

lā ʾilāha ʾillā-llāh, muḥammadur-rasūlu-llāh.

There is no other god but Allah. Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.

Standing in one of the most beautiful mosques in Iran, Senja Novak recited the confession of a faith she did not believe in. She looked at the intricate designs of gold and blue starting from the bottom, climbing like vines through the pillars and culminated at the ceiling. She wondered how much time people spend on designing these walls. And all this effort for what? To appease a god that supposedly created them for some inexplicable reason? Who were they trying to fool? At least the temple wasn't decorated with stained glasses with a racially inaccurate depiction of Jesus or Virgin Mary.

In Romania, earlier that year, she visited a cathedral she was ordered to destroy when it was filled with those opposed to Nicolae Ceausescu's dictatorship. During her visit, she sat silently in one of the pews and tried to keep her reverence to the iconic figure. She sat with her back straight and neatly folded her hands on her lap. She even gave the church the courtesy to leave her gun at her base. She tilted her head to the side as she met with the image of Jesus judging her. Those incorrect green eyes of the depiction looked at her with inhumane coldness and distance. And this one was supposedly the savior of the world?

You look at me with those eyes, She thought. But what will you do about it?

That very night, those eyes were dripping as they were being destroyed with fire, the screams of human lambs. At the powerlessness of the image, she let out a smile of mockery and satisfaction.

You are no savior.

As the other true believers of Allah bowed, Senja also followed their actions. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. What exactly was she trying to do in a Muslim temple? Why Allah out of all the deities that people believed in? She kneeled and pressed her forehead against the carpet as the others did the same. The God of the Christians was too complicated to understand and Romania made her realize the futility of God. The Buddhists didn't even believe in a deity but wanted to achieve a state of enlightenment which did not satisfy Senja either. Hindus believed in way too many. She sat up and smiled in defiance. She chose to provoke Allah because he was the cruelest. His idea of his mercy and his compassion was false. The things he made his followers reflected his nature. There was no mercy in the mind of Allah. In Allah's idea of absolute justice, he would never forgive her sins and punish her thoroughly. It comforted her that in that world, evil is not permissible.

Punish me. She challenged him.

As she left the mosque, she decided that she should head towards where her employers were located. The winds howled cruelly and it blew the light blue chador Senja wore in all directions. No matter how many times Senja Novak walked through the dusty, arid roads of desert countries, she always got sand into her eyes. She decided that if she received another job in a desert area again, she would definitely wear a burka then and defeat the sand blown by the wind. Not that this was her first time in the Middle East. The civil strife in the general area was anything but unfamiliar. The smell of gunpowder beckoned her to her natural environment and she felt a bitterly warm welcoming feeling when she saw the bodies heaped against a crumbling building. The bodies were intertwined with the opposing parties. There were some well-groomed soldiers with oblivious teenage boys armed with inadequate weapons.

She heard some yelling and as she turned around, she saw a few Kurdish soldiers yelling at her. They were waving their rifles in the air claiming that she was walking in a dangerous zone that was not fit for women and that she should go back to her husband. Senja narrowed her eyes dangerously as she observed the soldiers. If they knew who she was, would they have yelled at her like that? No. Without a doubt, they would bow at her feet, begging her to help them accomplish their goal, whatever it was. Pity she was hired by the Iranian Government and she had already been paid.

As she thought this, she found herself dragging two more bodies to the heap of corpses she had seen earlier. A pack of cigarettes fell out of one of the soldiers' pocket. Malboro. Cheap but doable. She would consider it another welcoming present for her job. She unconsciously patted her concealed pockets and realized that she did not have a lighter with her. She then looked at the body the pack fell from.

It didn't take her very long to find a lighter. And she made sure bodies were rearranged just the way she had found them. It was the least she could do.

Oh, how my sins are adding. She thought as she exhaled a cloud of smoke and walked through an empty alley. She was told that the one-story building would be white with a dark brown door. She found it with ease. She tapped her floor with her feet as she pulled out the last cigarette of the box. She put it in her mouth and hesitated when the fire approached the cigarette. She put the cigarette back in the box, deciding that she would need it to relax after her deal was complete. As she pushed the brown door, she navigated her way through a long narrow passage. Though it might have sounded empty, Senja could hear two different male voices speaking Farsi.

"I hope you are aware that this was costly, Farhi."

"It might have been but Senja Novak is the most proficient one to hire for this kind of job, Abdullah, you know that."

"Besides Kiritsugu Emiya?"

"That man's methods are too unpredictable for this. Additionally, he stopped his works almost five years ago."

"But I am still not sure how this woman will guarantee us any victory." Senja rolled her eyes at the comment. It wasn't the first time she heard such a bias but it could be her last. "She is barely 21. She is just a few years older than my Laila."

"Age does not matter," Farhi responded, "She has proven herself time and time again that she is more than capable of such jobs. She is not known as the 'Immortal Soldier' for no reason. Just look at all her successful job at the Al-Anfal Campaign. It also involved the Kurds and also other minorities. Joseph Kony must have hired her too. I would not be surprised if the United States did not hire for her to do some dirty job."

"But—"

"Stop your complaining, Abdullah. We've already paid the fee and we will not resort to child soldiers. It will reflect poorly on us when we crush the rebellion."

Senja had heard enough. She roughly pushed the door open and observed the room. Two heads turned towards her in surprise. Immediately she thought that there was too much white on the wall. It was offensive. How dare they disguise their greed and their abomination with the color of purity? She made herself comfortable in the couch that was positioned across the two men. She removed the chador that was covering her short black hair. Beneath the chador, she was wearing a light blue button down with black pants and dark brown ankle boots.

She ruffled her short, boyish hair casually and crossed her legs, "Let's get down to business." She looked at the two shocked men with mild disinterest.

"Ah, Ms. Novak," One of her employers, man whose name was Farhi, composed himself quickly from the sudden intrusion and held out his hand. "We are very honored to—"

Senja's eyes narrowed dangerously as she refused to shake the man's hand. "I need more information before starting on this job."

"Of course, what would you want to know?"

"There was a surprising lack of information in this paper." She casually took out a parchment from her button down and held it between her fingers. "Apparently you have two things in mind for me?"

"Yes. These rebels have been getting out of hand. The Kurdish rebels have already launched multiple attacks on us and we are losing more soldiers than what we care to admit." Abdullah remained quiet as Farhi gave the exposition. "So, then, the job is to help us quell the rebellion, somewhat, and obtain the Holy Grail for us."

Only two words captured Senja's attention.

"The Holy Grail?"

"Ah yes, a Christian relic – that pagan religion," spat Farhi, "that claims to fulfill the wish of the winner. We have heard that from other sources that the war for this chalice is going to begin soon."

"Why do you need me in this?"

"This is a war for those familiar with the skills of magic. We could not find a more worthy candidate than you. Mages are rare in this area. As a Novak, who else is more suited than to win the Holy Grail but you?"

She scowled at the mention of her last name but she responded nonetheless. "Do you have a relic for me?"

"Ah… no. That would be your first part to this job. But as it is, we are in Iran where there are plenty of relics. Whatever hero you want, whether it is a Byzantine hero or a hero of the Persian Empire, I assure you that you can find it here. This is a historically rich country. I can even tempt you with more ancient heroes from the Assyrian Empire and the Babylonian Empire."

She nodded briefly.

"Anything else?" Abdullah inquired.

"Yes. What do you know about the other possible participants?"

"It's obvious that the three houses, Einzbern, Tohsaka, and Matou will be involved. Except for Einzberns who are located in Germany, the other families are located in Japan, where the war will take place."

To be perfectly honest, Senja was impressed by the information she was being supplied with. She didn't expect the two employers to be so well-informed about such matters.

They must be desperate… to be hiring a mercenary to fetch a mystical object with dubious power.

But she had heard of the Grail and she wanted it too.

"What are you planning to do with the Grail?" She asked. The answer to this question was paramount.

"That is no concern of yours, mercenary. Nor is it important for you to know." Abdullah responded coldly.

"I see." She shrugged nonchalantly, "Who else knows that I was hired? I remember specifically requesting absolute discretion."

"We did not tell anyone." Farhi responded too quickly. She silently observed their eyes. Then she closed her eyes, trying to listen to their breathing patterns.

"Tell me the truth." She said with patience, "Who else knows?"

"We assure you, Ms. Novak, that there is no other individual that is aware of your involvement."

"You're still lying." She stood up abruptly, pulling out a gun, she fired a shot, "Now, one more opportunity. Who else knows about you hiring me for the Grail?"

The two men looked at each other nervously. They obviously needed some form of persuasion.

"This is your last opportunity. You should know more than anyone that my body is enhanced. My basic senses are far superior to yours. I can see your pupils dilate and I can hear you breathing patterns become irregular when you lie." She said, "Now, your answer?"

The two men nodded at each other. Senja gave a benevolent smile. As Farhi was about to give her the information she wanted, she took out a mobile phone and handed it to Abdullah, "Bring them all here."

Not as many as I thought. Senja thought as she cracked her neck. She stretched her arms high in the air as she sat on a couch. She surveyed the small room, satisfied at the new décor of red stains. It started with two men but Senja had all those involved come in and she eliminated them all. She expected at least fifteen other participants. There were only eleven. She was wondering if she would have to eliminate their families when a small whimper of pain interrupted her plans and caught her attention. She looked at the source of the whimper. It was the bastard who had hired her. Farhi, was it?

"What…have…" he rasped in pain, "What…are you…doing?"

Was he feeling betrayed? Why did she decide to kill them all? He had paid her and everything. Why was he in such a predicament?

There is no complicated reasoning behind her thinking. She simply did not like the job, or at least the first part of the job. She was done with killing innocent people who are brave enough to stand for their ideology. And secondly, she wanted the Holy Grail for herself. She had been looking for information for a while and she happened to get very lucky. She wouldn't let the opportunity slide. And lastly, this was going to be her last job. It was her deepest desire to make her last job the best one for the world.

And so she shared her mind, "I want the Grail too."

The man tried to growl in anger but then cough in pain.

A sense of unknown regret overcame her. For some reason, a tiny voice in the back of her head was telling her that she shouldn't have killed so rashly. She bit her lower lip. She should have tortured him a little more then killed him. Bleeding out till dead was painful enough. She shook her head. That makes me no different from them. She would not resort to torturing methods as entertainment. That reminded her too much of them. She absent-mindedly touched her right collarbone. On it, a number was engraved: EX-646935.

White pain flashed as the needle worked on her skin. She screamed uncontrollably but the needle kept drilling, obviously trying to go beyond the skin. She tried to focus as much as possible as she felt like she was being continuously stabbed. She thrashed violently but the straps on her arms and legs kept her in place. The man in a white coat held a satisfied smile as he recording the readings he was monitoring.

"Your name?" He asked her. She turned her head slightly to the sound of his voice. Those blue murky eyes widened slightly. The man was obviously surprised by the fact that the girl was able to collect anything from her environment. He excitedly wrote something and manipulated a few gears that intensified the pain she was feeling.

An incoherent scream, her scream, answered his question about her name. Senja looked at the man with pleading eyes, tears endlessly flowing. There was another woman beside the man.

"Perhaps this is too much for—" The woman responded the question. She had a soft and quiet voice.

"Shh, Anna. This is vital for the future things I want to do."

"Engraving a sequence of numbers on her collarbone will do exactly what?"

"Your name, little girl?" He ignored her and asked the tortured girl again.

"Se…sen…" She remembers trying to answer, suppressing her screams, "No…va…k."

"You see, Anna?" The man smiled gleefully, "The monitors already indicate that she is feeling less pain. This one is a very promising specimen. Send the provider the promised amount."

"Is she feeling less pain or is she learning to endure it?" The assistant asked bitterly.

"Just go do what I told you." The man huffed and ignored her question. Understanding that he was being patient with the assistant, she left the room quickly.

"Your new name, specimen," The man in the white coat continued, "is EX-646935. Now, repeat it."

"E…X…" The screaming resumed as the piercing pain became more acute by the moment. She couldn't remember. She didn't care about it. All she wanted was the machine to stop whirling and she wanted the needle to stop stabbing her. She tried pleading, "P..P…Plea…se."

"EX-646935. Repeat it." The man said firmly. She shut her eyes tightly and screamed again, a certain hatred developing deep within her.

He promised the girl, "If you can say it thrice correctly, without screaming, I can make this stop."

At least he kept his promise.

Even if it took a while.

She gritted her teeth at the memory. No, she would not stoop as low as her creator and torture her victims. She was better than that.

She reloaded her gun, silently aimed for the whimper and let the room echo with a deafening boom.