Fate Ragnarök Chapter 1: Iron, Silver and Steel

1985

Kiritsugu worked on his arm, while his missing one ached, his other limbs worked and ached quietly, and his wife gave birth.

Outside, it snowed.

The prosthetic arm was a strange work of art. It was crafted from the purest of iron, and steel, and engraved all over with tiny little runes. Its exterior was smooth, almost fluid in appearance, and felt as light as his own flesh. It even fit just firmly enough that it did not pinch at his stump.

Though, after so long, he had a bit a trouble remembering how that had actually felt.

Best of all, he could even still feel through the arm, whether it was hot, cold, soft, smooth, rough, sharp, etc… though, compared to real flesh, it was still somewhat numb.

It seemed to grow just a bit more numb every day…

The limb had been a gift from his employers, this family of white hair and red eyes and ancient, arcane traditions. An advance payment, to replace the bulkier model that he had been using in the past.

It was a lovely arm. A work of art.

Much better than his other limbs.

He did not look up, even as his wife cried out in pain from the pain of childbirth.

It had been over a day, now, since the labor had begun, and yet, he could not find it within himself to be at her side as she gave birth.

But that was fine. Monsters like him did not deserve to witness such a miracle, after all.

His hand bean to spasm a bit, and he reached for the breathing mask, and inhaled, letting the sensation of its contents enter his lungs.

So, while his wife gave birth, he simply busied himself by working on his perfect, cold arm. Besides, it was not like he slept much, any more.

…. "How amusing."

With a sigh at the memory, he set down the screwdriver and then reattached his metal limb with a grunt and a twist of his gloved hand. As he stood, he idly withdrew a silver American dollar from his pocket that he always carried with him, and let it dance through his metal hand's fingers.

Good, this prosthetic showed no signs of degradation as of yet.

As he flicked the coin around, a maid, with skin and hair as white as snow, entered the chapel room. "It is done, Mister Emiya. It is a girl."

With that test finished, he turned and followed the homunculus maid towards his wife.

Iri lay in the grand bed, sweat dotting her beautiful form, and she was no doubt tired from the exertion. Yet, on her face was a serene and radiant smile as she first gazed at him, and then down at the sleeping infant that was swaddled in her arms.

"She is just so adorable. Look, she even has your eyes."

For a moment, he did not move, and just stood, staring at her, and her child.

She knew what he was, what he had done, and the sins that comprised his being. She had known for a very long time now. She knew that he was a monster.

Yet, Iri did not care, and she loved him with all her heart.

Why?

It still did not make any sense to him.

"What's wrong?"

Her voice reawakened him from his musings, and he looked her right in the eye. "Iri… why are you not afraid?

"Afraid?"

"Yes… afraid of me."

Her face grew confused. "Why on earth would I be afraid of you, my husband?"

He clenched his fists of metal and flesh. "Because, I am destined to be the cause of your death. Because, I am not worthy to hold that child in these monstrous hands. I do not deserve such a privilege."

At that, her face grew somber for a moment, and he watched as her scarlet eyes looked downwards towards his right gloved fist, under which they both knew the three Scarlet symbols were engraved. Symbols which were matched by the ones on her own right hand.

She looked upon the infant in her arms, and then back at him, that serene smile once more on her face. "Don't be like that. Besides, don't forget that what you are striving for is a world that is safe and pure. A grand new world, where no one is made to cry anymore. The hope for that world, it is what your whole life has been defined by. Eight more years until you can finally grasp it in those hands of yours, and your struggle will finally be over. It is what makes you the man that I love, not a monster.

"As such, you more than deserve to hold your own child. So please, take our child, Illyasviel, and hold her close. Hold her, and be proud, as any father deserves to be."

Kiritsugu sighed. He did not smile, but he knew that she could tell, by the softening of his eyes, that she had convinced him.

He then approached the bedside. His limbs slightly trembling, Kiritsugu took his newborn daughter into his arms of cold metal and warm flesh.

He looked down upon her. Physically, she was perfect. Such a tiny little bundle of new life and soft flesh, borne of love and pain, like all infants of the world.

If, in eight years, everything went according to their plans and hopes, and she was allowed to live a long and full life… then, when she grew up, would she be fated to become a monster, like him?

He looked back at Iri, who still had that beautiful smile of hers. "Eight more years, until you can achieve our ideal world, through the Salvation that is the Holy Grail…."

Torino, Italy, 1991

Kirei watched quietly as the man in red sipped from a glass filled with a wine that most likely cost more than the clothes on the priest's own back.

But, at the moment, that was not forefront upon the young priest's mind. No, that was reserved for what the man, the magus, to be exact, had just told him, about the strange marks on his hand, and what they signified.

"Command seals?"

The man in red nodded. "That is correct. What they signify is your status as a Master in the Holy Grail War of Fuyuki. In essence, think of them as a sort of stigmata that bestow upon you the power to command the spirit of an ancient hero, a Servant."

The man set down his now empty glass, and then held up his own hand, which were emblazoned with similar markings. His reminded Kirei of the ripples that water made when it was lightly tapped, as well as an arrow being loosed from a bowstring.

Kirei then looked down at his own right hand. "The Holy Grail War… a clandestine battle for an ancient relic that can grant wishes and perform miracles for whosoever holds it in their hands."

"Indeed."

The young priest then looked back up at the man in red. "But if that is the case… then why me? Why would I be selected to participate in such an event?"

The man in red shrugged. "In all honesty, I am not sure. In the past, the Seven Masters chosen by the Grail to command Heroic Spirits were seven magi of great experience and accomplishment. Thus, it is most unusual, if not unprecedented, for one such as yourself, a person with absolutely no connection to magecraft whatsoever, to be given this chance to participate."

"Heroic Spirits… that is something that I still find to be most perplexing to be commanding the echoes of long-dead heroes as familiars with which we do battle."

"I understand how difficult all of this must be for you to believe, but it is true. In less than three years' time, heroes from every mythology of every corner of the world will walk the earth once more and kill one another in a contest for Supremacy."

The corner of the man's lips edged into a somewhat pretentious smile. "That, in essence, is the Holy Grail War."

Kirei's father, who had accompanied him to this meeting, then spoke. "In addition, there has always been an unspoken agreement between the seven competitors that the event is to be kept secret, and out of the public's eye. Of course, in order to ensure that this unspoken rule is kept and enforced, a member of the Holy Church is chosen as the War's overseer."

"Is that really a wise course of action, for one of us to be presiding over a heathen contest such as this?"

The man in red refilled his empty glass. "But of course. It's a simple matter of logic and priority. A member of the magus association would be too partial to one participant over the others. An outside party with no attachments, however, can be trusted to be impartial, so as to ensure a degree of fairness in the War."

He then raised his glass and gestured towards the older priest. "Thus, once again, as the Association did sixty years ago, we have selected your father, Risei Kotomine, to be the Overseer of the Foruth Holy Grail War of Fuyuki."

"Father will be going to Fuyuki?"

As the man nodded, it began to click within Kirei's mind. "Wait... how in the Lord's name could any of this be considered fair? He has been a supporter of your family for decades. Having him as the Overseer would be a severe conflict of interest, especially as I would also be participating."

The man in red's smile remained on his face. "Put your worries to rest, Kirei, as that is the reason for why we are here…"

"What do you mean?"

The man took a sip, and then began to slowly pace around the young priest in a wide circle. Father then spoke and joined the magus in his pacing. "What you have to understand, Kirei, is that everything we have spoken of, is just the official background of the Holy Grail War. However, there is another reason as to why I have brought you to Tokiomi today."

"And what exactly would that reason be, father?"

Tokiomi Tohsaka then spoke again. "First, one thing that you should be aware of is that the Holy Grail of which we have been speaking is not the same relic as that which collected the blood of the Son of God."

"I surmised as much," the young priest admitted, "else that Church would never have allowed this godless contest to transpire in the first place, and we of the Eighth Sacrament Assembly would have been ordered to retrieve it without delay."

The magus chuckled as he took a sip of wine. "Very well observed."

"Though that is the case," Father then interjected, "The Holy Grail of Fuyuki is still too powerful a thing to be safely ignored. If that device were to fall into the wrong hands, then such an event would surely spell nothing short of disaster for the world."

Though his face showed nothing, Kirei had to make a slight effort to restrain his mind from imagining such a thing.

"As such," Tohsaka continued, "The best, and, indeed, only, course of action is to ensure that the Holy Grail falls into the Right hands."

"And I take it that these 'right hands' would be yours?"

"But of course."

Father spoke again. "Though they are first and foremost a clan of magi, the Tohsakas are also a family that have enjoyed a long and fruitful friendship with the Holy Church. We are familiar with Tokiomi's upstanding character and morals, as well as his family's ultimate intentions for the Grail, which are plain, and honorable. Thus, the Vatican has decided that it would be best if he were the only one to hold the grail at the War's end."

"So, you plan to cheat."

Tokiomi chuckled again. "Nothing so irreverently crass as that, I can assure you. It will be more of a simple… bendingof the rules, rather than outright breaking them. Besides, when it comes to the Holy Grail, my family's desire has only ever been the attaining of a pathway to the Root of all existence.

"But, sadly, the other founding families, the Matous and the Einzberns, have lost sight of that noble goal with which we once shared, and now seek the Grail for more selfish and damaging ends."

"Thus, the only reason for my participation is to ensure that Tokiomi Tohsaka emerges victorious, correct, instead of fighting for myself?" Kirei asked, his tone neutral.

Tokiomi smirked. "That is indeed correct. As such, your father and I have already begun to take steps to ensure that no suspicion is gathered, which will require us to, on the surface, conduct ourselves as if we are truly enemies.

"However, as you have already surmised, we will, in truth, be working as allies. So, in order to proceed, your father and I have already begun the process of transferring you from the Holy Church to the Magus Association. Once the transfer is complete, I shall take you on as my own student."

"The orders for the transfer had already been given before this meeting,' father added.

In other words, they had decided to not give Kirei the benefit of a choice in the matter.

"Once the transfer is complete, you will head to Japan, where I will tutor and school you in the ways of all things related to magecraft, at least until you are of sufficient strength and skill so that you will be able to command a Servant in three year's time. Thus, when the battles truly being, we will be ready." Tokiomi punctuated this with a last sip of his wine.

"Do you have any for us questions for us, Kirei?" father asked.

An ordinary person would have had a thousand questions, not to mention possible grievances at being forced into such a thing without a real choice in the matter.

But Kirei, much to his personal shame, was not a normal person. But… he did have one question. "Yes… how exactly does the Holy Grail select its chosen masters?"

Tokiomi seemed a bit surprised at his question, but shrugged and answered. "While the exact process is unknown… it has theorized that the Grail selects as Masters those who are in need of it. However, I have heard that, in the past, there were a few cases of the Command seals appearing upon those whom it was not expected."

Tokiomi then seemed to note the meaning behind Kirei's inquiery, and smiled at the priest. "Ah, I understand. You are wondering why you were chosen by the Grail, yes?"

Later

The last thing Tokiomi had been expecting was that Kirei would give his consent to the plan without any hesitation. As he and Risei watched from a balcony as Kirei departed, Tokiomi voiced his concern to the elder priest.

"I am not surprised,' Risei admitted. "My son is devoted to the Holy Church, and would jump off a cliff, and into a raging inferno, if the Vatican so ordered it."

Tokiomi hmm'd at that. "In all honesty, I am rather surprised. From his perspective, he is being dragged into a bloody conflict against his will, and it is a conflict that has absolutely nothing to do with him.

"Yet, this is as it should be, and I hope that this coming ordeal will do him some good. I still worry for him, after everything that he has been through recently."

"Oh?"

"Yes…A few short years ago, his wife passed away, and from a terminal illness. Sadly, my son's mind went to a dark and foreboding place after that. He all but venerated her as a saint.

"But, for a while, we thought him fine… right until the moment where my granddaughter and I found him hanging from a rope in his bedroom."

Tokiomi could not keep the horror out of his tone, or off his face. "Good lord…"

"Indeed. Luckily, we had arrived just in time, and, after a short, yet turbulent, stint of rehabilitation, there have been no further attempts. But…"

"I understand. I promise that I will keep my eye on him."

"Thank you. That is all I ask. Perhaps this will be what he needs to be able to move finally orward from his sorrow…."

Kirei tread down the cobblestone path. Idly, he rubbed the red scar that encircled around his neck, as he examined the markings on the back at his right hand; it resembled two intertwined snakes around a dagger.

The Holy Grail War…. Could it truly provide for him what he sought, after all this time?

Could he finally discover an answer?

New York, 1994, several months before the Holy Grail War

"Just take a spoonful of this once a day, and you should start seeing positive results in the next few weeks."

"I will. Thank you, Doctor."

With a wave and a smile, Dr. Twice H. Pieceman waved away the patient, and readied to see the next one. It was a busy day at the clinic, but, to the doctor, it was time well spent, helping people, and curing their ills as best he could.

He was friends with all the other nurses and physicians there, and they all knew as as a good man, which he was.

Soon enough, his shift ended, and he found himself heading to a nearby YMCA, where he often coached troubled youth.

"Come on doc, you sure your old-ass bones can make it?" the teenager, and his current opponent said, as he made a few feints in front of the doctor.

Twice chuckled, as he dribbled the basketball. Vince was smart kid, and he had known the doctor ever since he was a little boy. He had a bright future ahead of him, like so many others, and Twice was determined that they would all achieve their potential.

So, even if all he could do was meet with them here for a late afternoon game of basketball, then that was enough.

Twice surged left, and then quickly dashed right, past Vince, and leapt up to hit a slam-dunk. "How about I answer that the moment that you can finally beat me, Vince?"

The teen chuckled. "Man, I don't know how you do that tricky stuff man. What kind of a doctor can slam-dunk like that? Stuff is next level, NBA crap."

"Oh, you know… eat your green vegetables, work out, and all that other stuff."

Vince laughed. "Man, you must eat a heck of a lot of vegetables, doc."

They both played for a few more hours with the other kids, until the sun began to sink low in the sky. After a quick shower and change, Twice bid them all a good night, and then drove home.

He drove past a few billboards, each with an advertisement for F.S. Industries.

It had been a good day.

After a while of navigating traffic, he reached his sumptuous estate by Lake Placid.

In all honesty, it had been a bit pricy for his tastes, but his roommates had insisted upon it. Though, in their defense, they were, all three of them, wealthy, and, as a plus, the area was rather secluded.

Dr. Twice H. Pieceman pulled up into the driveway, walked up to the front door, opened it, stepped through, removed his shoes, closed the door, and then walked into his house. "I'm home,' he yelled to the other occupants of the house. Nigel was home, entertaining their guests, but it seemed that Cornelius was still out on errands.

Ah, but that was the trouble with roommates.

As Twice unburdened himself of the day's events and went to take another shower, Nigel Sayward entered from restroom into the living room, nonchalantly lighting up a cigarette, and then took a seat in front of their guests, after running his hand over their forms, noting how their skin quivered under his touch.

He derived not pleasure from it. It was more a curiosity than anything else, in all honesty.

He then looked upon them, his face impassive, even as they still struggled weakly against their bonds, while the serums that kept them alive and cognizant continuously pumped into their naked bodies.

"Now then, my guests…. I believe that you were telling me and the others about the Holy Grail War?"

1994, a few weeks before the start of the Holy Grail War

Today… it was like any other day at the Clock Tower.

What that meant for Waver Velvet, though, was that he had to bear the unrelenting disdain and scorn of the other students and teachers of the Clock Tower, and all for the 'crime' of coming from a less than prestigious family.

Some days, it could be an absolute hell, though he did his best to keep moving forward, despite it all.

As he walked down the hallway (ignoring the taunts of many of his fellow students), he found himself gripping the heirloom necklace that had been in his family since before they had even been magi. It was two small pieces, attached to a simple chain; a piece of fulgurite, and the fragment of a goat's horn.

It was not a mystic code. Indeed, it was not even worth very much. Maybe a few quid to an interested antiques dealer. But it had been a gift from his grandmother, and, well, keeping it on his person always managed to bring Waver a bit of comfort through all the teasing.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he had not noticed that he had taken a wrong turn until it was too late.

Crap, students were not allowed to be in this segment of the Clock Tower. If he was caught here, he would be either thrown out, if he was lucky, or made to "disappear."

Just as he was about to turn around and hurry back into the main corridor, he heard faint voices. They were coming from nearby.

Despite the more rational portion of his mind all but screaming at him to ignore it and leave, Waver's curiosity won out, and quietly, ever so quietly, Waver followed the voices deeper into corridor.

It was Lord Bram, along with a few of his cronies, and what sounded like a young lady with an aristocratic air about her, despite her voice making it seem as if she were younger than Waver.

"The Grail War is approaching… still no sign of that fool Kayneth…. Few to no options left, it seems…"

The… Grail War? What was Lord Bram and the others talking about? Also, why were the talking about Professor Archibald? Why would they care about that asshole of a professor who had taken every opportunity to belittle and humiliate Waver whenever the fancy suited the elder magus?

Besides, all anyone really knew was that the man had vanished into thin air a few months back, and no one knew why.

Suddenly, Waver felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Slowly, ever so slowly, he looked up to the hand's owner.

It was Professor Lev, one of the heads of the research department.

Bugger.

For a moment, the tall man looked down on him. Then, he smiled. "Walk with me," he whispered, and in a tone that was both gentle, and yet booked no arguments.

Without another word, the Professor guided Waver out of the side corridor, and back into the main one.

For a while, they just walked, side by side. Eventually, Waver could not help but speak. "Um… am I in trouble, professor?"

"No, Velvet. I assume that you have questions."

"Uh… yeah, I suppose. What were they talking about back there?"

"Oh, I'm afraid that it is all rather 'imaginary.'" Waver caught on to how the professor said the word 'imaginary,' and so let the professor talk. As they talked and walked, Waver noted that they were heading towards the library. "In this fictional story,' the professor continued, "let us pretend that, over 200 years ago, three families came together in… let's go with Japan… and more specifically, a city called Fuyuki."

Eventually, they entered the library, and the professor led the student to a specific shelf, took out a book, and then led Waver to a desk.

The professor set the book in front of Waver, and then sat opposite the young man, and continued to whisper. "Now, at this point in the story, these three families, to whom we will give the names Tohsaka, Matou, and Einzbern, decided to pool their resources to create an event, hypothetically.

"Now, hypothetically, this event, which we will call the Holy Grail War, would a battle between seven summoned spirits of ancient heroes. Seven Masters would summon these spirits. Eventually, when there is only one Master/ Servant pair left, then we'll say that the winners would receive a grand prize; a wish."

A wish? Ancient heroes!? What the hell?

The Professor then smiled amiably. "So, what do you think? Makes for a pretty good story, right?"

"….Why are you telling me all of this?"

Professor Lev shrugged. "Technically, I'm not. Technically, I am just having a conversation with a random student about a hypothetical and imaginary thing that I made up, and am probably thinking of turning into a series of novels about heroes, villains, and justice and whatnot… technically. Besides…" the professor's smile grew kindly, as he leaned in, somewhat conspiratorially. "I have always noticed how different you are, from most of the other students that study here at the Clock Tower."

"Different?"

"Indeed. Most students here come not so much to learn, but because it is an obligation to their families. They are rich, and their futures are already assured, even if their individual names fade away to dust. They have no real drive, no actual ambition, and no deep desire to change the world, or even themselves.

"But you… you are different. You want to become better, to ascend from your given lot in life, to grasp a star of your own, no matter how burned it might leave you. You are driven by ambition, and you will let nothing stand in your way, be it societal standing or personal wealth.

He slid the book closer to Waver and opened it to a page with the picture of an intricate-looking diagram on it. "If I were you, I would take this chance, Waver Velvet, that has fallen into your lap. Go to Fuyuki city, and enter this contest. Even if you were to lose, then you will still bring glory to your name, and to yourself, for having even just participated. Participate, and I can promise you that you will be changed for the better."

The professor then sighed, chuckled, and raised his hands slightly as he stood up and turned to walk away. "But, of course, in the end, only you can make this choice. Will you take this risk, and seize the chance to burn brighter than the stars themselves, Waver Velvet, or continue to languish in the obscurity that our society has chained upon you, your bloodline, and others like you?"

Without another word, the professor walked away.

Could he do it? Could he participate in this War?

He then clenched his hand around his necklace. Yes, he would do it. He was going to go to Fuyuki, summon a hero, win, and then show all those bastards who had dared to look down upon him that he was better, that he deserved respect!

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain on his hand.

From the doorway of the Library, Lev watched as the young man stood up fom the desk, with the book on the Holy Grail war clutched tightly against his chest. "Good luck, Waver Velvet." the professor whispered.

The very next day, Waver found himself on a plane to Japan.

During the flight he found himself making odd smalltalk with some of his fellow passengers; a young boy with one arm, and the boy's caretaker, an elderly priest…..

Fuyuki City, a few weeks before the Holy Grail War

If there was one thing that Kirei had learned about Tokiomi Tohsaka during the past three years, it was that the man had an odd habit of favoring arcane and antiquated machines over more modern ones.

Case in point, that strange device that he used to send and receive messages.

"I trust that no one saw you making your way here?" Tokiomi asked, as Kirei entered the dimly-lit study..

"I assure you, that I was quite careful."

"Good."

The red Magus then took up the message he had just received, and studied the runic script that it had been written in. His face grew… not pensive, but, instead, simply… a bit concerned.

"Who is this latest message from?" Kirei asked.

"My contacts at the Clock Tower. It seems that there have been no new developments to the strange situation over the past few months."

"I see. So, still no word about the missing Archibald Master?"

"None whatsoever. I do wonder what could have happened to him. It is unusual for one as esteemed and powerful as Kayneth el-Melloi Archibald to simply vanish like this, and on the eve of the Holy Grail War, no less."

Tokiomi then shrugged. "But it is of no great concern. We will simply adapt accordingly."

"I do find it troubling that two of the slots are still unaccounted for."

"I would not worry too much. The Grail will choose the rest, and those are usually Master with little to no talent. Whoever they will be, they will be of no challenge or consequence to us."

Tokiomi clasped his hands together. "Now then, it is time that we commenced with the summoning of your Servant, Kirei. But, first a quick spar to center our minds."

Another thing that had surprised Kirei about Tokiomi Tohsaka was the fact that the magus was well versed in martial arts. Apparently, before the creation of the Grail War, Tokiomi's ancestor had been attempting to reach the root through a state of physical perfection. Excellence in martial arts was something that was still passed down from family head to family head to this day, it seemed.

Before they could leave the study, the message device sprang to life once more. Once it had finished, Tokiomi looked over what had been sent, and his face grew concerned once more.

"Very interesting. So, he was still alive after all this time."

"What is it, teacher?"

"It seems that another participant has just been registered by the Einzberns, which is rather uncharacteristic of them. They have always prided themselves on the purity of their bloodline, and their sole devotion to the discipline of Alchemy. In hindsight, that is probably the main reason as to why they lost the previous three wars.

"But now, it seems that they are finally accepting outside help, having brought an outsider into their family over nine years ago. I must admit that, in this case, they have certainly picked the best, if they are being honest in this claim."

"Why? Who have they chosen as their representing Master?"

"A rather infamous assassin…Kiritsugu Emiya…."

Germany, a few weeks before the Holy Grail War

Kiritsugu had never really understood the point of bowing. It was tedious, terrible for your back, and all-in-all made him feel rather foolish.

And yet, here he and Iri were, bowing before the head of Einzbern Family, a being that was little more than the magecraft version of an AI that called itself 'Acht.'

The thing that masqueraded as an old man looked down upon the pair with the impassive disdain that was relegated to immortals.

Then, it spoke, in a rather elderly voice. "The relic that we have been searching for years has finally been located, in Cornwall," the old man said. "With it, you will certainly be able to summon that which is known as the strongest Sword-Wielding Servant."

Kiritsugu wondered if the thing's blood was red, and if that blood and white hair would laugh at him in blue notes as he…. No! Stop it! Not now!

He clenched his shaking right fist tightly through his glove.

He was going to need another dose very soon.

Eventually, the old thing stopped droning on and on, and Kiritsugu and his wife left the chapel.

As controlled as possible, Kiritsugu headed towards his study, where another dose awaited him…

"The Magus Killer?" Kriei asked.

Tokiomi took a seat, the pensive look not leaving his face. Kirei had never seen his teacher adopt such an expression before. "Indeed. It would seem, juding from your knowledge of his title, that even the Holy Church is aware of his… reputation. A most infamous assassin in his day.

"Officially, he was nothing but a renegade mage, who did not count himself a part of the Association, or any of its branches. Of course, behind closed doors, the higher echelons of the Association found his particular skillset to be… useful."

"So, in essence, he was like us, the Executors of the Holy Church."

Tokiomi let loose a humorless chuckle. 'You could say that, only this man was much worse. He acquired his title through his killing of other magi, though he had also been found in various warzones around the world. He is intelligent, amoral, ruthless, and, indeed, the very concept of 'collateral damage' means absolutely nothing to him."

He then held out the report. "Take a look for yourself."

Kirei took the report and read through it. Despite himself, his eyes widened in surprise and horror. "Sniping… poison… destroying an entire jumbo jet liner that his target was a passenger on… and…"

"Yes… the Shigura Island Disaster."

During his tutelage, Kirei had learned, briefly, of one of the most infamous events in the Association's history, though Tokiomi had refused to elaborate further on what had happened, save that it had been nothing short of an absolute tragedy, as well as the fact that it had almost torn down the veil of secrecy between the mortal world and the moon-lit one.

"They believe that the Magus Killer was the perpetrator of that event?" The priest asked.

"Yes, though no one was entirely sure. Most even thought that he had perished in the city's destruction."

"Evidently, he somehow survived, and made his way to the Einzberns."

Tokiomi gave another humorless chuckle. "That would appear to be the case…."

Kirei read over the rest of the report. For some reason, there was something about this magus killer that had arrested his attention and curiosity.

Something that just felt… familiar.

He then looked up to his teacher. "Would you mind if I borrowed this report for a while?"

"Not at all. But, now, we still need to have our spar, before we can commence with the summoning of your Servant…"

Kariya Matou ambled his way towards the Matou mansion.

He knew he made for a rather grotesque sigh, with his white hair, dead eye, and limp.

But it was necessary. For her sake. For Sakura.

Zouken had given him the ability and chance to save that little girl, if he managed to win the Holy Grail war.

The man reached out his hand and looked upon the three command seals that had been carved into his flesh.

After tonight, he would be one step closer to saving her.

He never felt it coming, not until his arm had already been severed from his body.

Before he could even scream, he found himself getting drowsy. As he did, he heard a strange voice whisper, "You will be remembered, Kariya Matou…"

In the pit, Zouken waited. Ten minutes… thirty… One hour.

As the two-hour mark arrived, he sighed, and his worms writhed in frustration.

It would seem that his idiot son would not be coming. Most likely, the man had dropped dead in the street, and would simply be picked up with all the other refuse.

Despite himself, the elder magus chuckled. It was the least that the ungrateful fool deserved.

It would seem that the Matous would be sitting out the Fourth Holy Grail War after all. Nevertheless, it would at least be entertaining to watch.

Oh well. At least he could train Sakura some more tonight.

Heh, heh, heh.

Cornelius Alba checked over the summoning circle once again, as well as his chosen relic situated within the circle, while Nigel watched with interest. Meanwhile, his favorite symphony, Beethoven's 9th in D Minor, filled the house with its sibilant and rousing sound.

The two guests dangled upside down and naked by their chained ankles from the rafters, their bodies drenched in sweat, and their mouths gagged.

Cornelius had returned home earlier and had volunteered right away to conduct and perform the ceremony, and so, Nigel had let him.

The smiling Magus walked up to them and caressed their heads and naked forms. He chuckled as they tried to recoil from his touch, with tears and mucus and saliva dripping from their eyes and noses and mouths. "Well, Kayneth, Sola. I must say that, having you two as our houseguests over these past few months have truly been enjoyable. I for one will always look back upon the intimacy of our many late-night, and mid-day, rendezvous with the pair of you with nothing short of happy fondness. Plus, I am sure that Nigel will miss you as well."

He ignored Nigel's groans at that. Such a prude. Not his fault that Nigel was asexual.

Alba's face then grew serious, as he withdrew from his coat a razor-edged scalpel, the sight of which made the two magi begin to scream in fear through their gags.

"But, alas, all good things are destined to come to an end. But don't worry, for your deaths will be serving a much greater purpose… the first step to my victory in the Holy Grail War."

Without another word, he slit their throats with a doctor's finesse.

He and Nigel could hear Twice exclaiming his adamant distaste and horror from the next room in which they had locked him (for his own good, of course), but they ignored the doctor.

This had to be done, after all.

As the blood and excrement and tears and fluids of Kayneth el-Melloi Archibald and Sola-Ui Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri began to leak onto the circle and relic, all the while they died screaming and gurgling, Cornelius Alba held out his hand, engraved with the mark of two crossed swords, and began to chant….

Outside, it snowed.

Within the chapel of the Einzbern castle Kiritsugu Emyia looked upon the face of the woman that he loved, Irisviel Von Einzbern, as well as the ornate sheath that she held in her arms as she used to their little daughter.

With this servant, he could make his dream, the dream that he had killed so many for, a reality.

His gloved fists clenched tightly at his side.

Irisviel watched her husband with concern and love in her scarlet eyes as she set the sheathe upon the altar that was on the other side of the circle. Were either of them truly prepared for what was to come next?

He then looked at her once more, and at the seals that were on both their hands.

A Master of Light, and a Master of Darkness.

With no more hesitation, Kiritsugu and Iri held out their right hands, and they then began to recite the incantation …

With a view of the glittering city gleaming in the distance before him, Waver stood before the prepared circle of goat's blood, the old necklace gripped tight in his fist. Overhead, dark storm clouds seemed to gather, but it did not really bother him. Besides, it was far too late to turn back now.

If not this, then there was also the fact that he had hypnotized an elderly couple who lived here (Australian, but he could have done worse, English pride notwithstanding) into believing that he was their visiting grandson. Definitely no turning back after that!

This would be his moment, his reckoning. He would win this War and prove to all those who laughed and jeered at him that he was better.

With any remaining hesitation expunged from his veins, he began to recite the incantation from the book…

The chants began….

Let silver and steel be the essence.
Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation
Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall
Let the four cardinal gates close.
Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.

I hereby declare.
Your body shall serve under me.
My fate shall be your sword.
Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail
If you will submit to this will and this reason…Then answer!

An oath shall be sworn here!
I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven.
I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell!

From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three greet words of power,
Come forth from the ring of restraints,
Protector of the Holy Balance!

As Waver spoke the last word of the last line of the aria, all of a sudden, a bolt of lightning let loose from the clouds above and struck the relic. As it did, the circle's glow shifted from blue to white, like the color of the lightning bolt he had just seen.

Then, a great energy burst from the circle, knocking the young magus onto his back, with the sound of a clap of thunder.

For a moment, everything was nothing but white noise and blurred vision.

Finally, as his sight and hearing cleared, Waver looked at the circle, and then up… and up… and up.

The man seemed almost four meters tall, and was clad in rustic, tooled armor of leather and iron, while his arms were covered from hand to shoulder in two gauntlets of leather and iron. A great, wild mane of brown hair surrounded his bearded face, while in his forehead rested a shining jewel. Across his waist was a great belt, decorated with runes, and figures of goats.

A pair of blood-red eyes gazed down upon the little…thing that had dared to summon him for a long moment, and when his mouth opened, Waver noted, with a bit of fear, that his teeth were fangs.

With a voice like the sound of a mountain's avalanche, the being spoke, as thunder rumbled in the sky. "Servant Rider asks of you…"

Kiritsugu and Iri looked upon their Servant, who was a tall and stately figure, clad in metal and leather armor that was both shining silver, and night-black, and covered in swirling designs of the hunt and dragons and other arcane and eldritch and light and dark things and symbols.

Their head was fully encased by a helmet whose design seemed a combination of a lion and a dragon, complete with horns and a fur mane. Strapped to their left arm was a large shield, the kind that was used when riding on horseback in either jousts or battlefields, and its surface was engraved with runes, as well as the image of a storm and a hunt. About their shoulders was a great furred mantle of white and black.

Also, they were mounted upon a great grey stallion, caparisoned in armor matching that of its rider, with a faceplate shaped like a draconic skull.

This figure seemed one who straddled the border between the noble openness of the brightest noonday sun, and the insurmountable aegis of the darkest midnight sky while a storm raged.

Strapped and sheathed at the servant's side was a longsword, with a pommel, handle, and curved hilt of gold, green, blue, and black. On their other hip was strapped a simple hunting horn.

They looked down upon the wary Kiritsugu and Iri from atop their mount, then turned its head to look behind it. For a bit, the Servant's hidden gaze seemed to linger upon the sheathe that lay upon the altar, almost longingly. Then the figure turned back to the pair and spoke, in a voice that could only be described as androgynous. "I am Servant Lancer, and so I ask of you…"

In five different locations across the globe, the same question was asked by five beings of unparalleled power never before seen in this Age of Man.

"Are you my Master?"

A/N: Behold! The Not prequel to my most popular Fate fanfic, Fate/ Distortion. I give you… Fate Ragnarok Though in all honesty, due to the weird fluidity that the Fate series likes to apply to its timelines, this will be at once a prequel, and, at the same time, not.

I hope that you all read, review, and enjoy, because things are going to get crazy.

Also, what do you think this Lancer should be (You can already guess who it is) Male, female, hermaphidite? Let me know in the reviews, and enjoy.

Fuyuki City, a few weeks before the Holy Grail War

Kirei and Tokiomi waited for what seemed like an eternity as the glow of the circle faded.

One minute… two… three… four.

After the fifth minute, Tokiomi could only sigh in defeat.

The summoning of Assassin had failed.

"What now, teacher?" Kirei asked, a strange feeling of shame coursing through his mind.

"We will have to reassess our plans around this… abnormality. Meanwhile, all we can do is try again at a later date."

As the two left the room, neither of them heard a silent, nonexistent chuckle echo about the room….