Fuyuki Church
The Holy Grail War—an intriguing name. Far from a mere magical ritual, it was a crucible of desire and conflict.
Here, any vile tactic was permitted, every deception justified. Participants could be as ruthless as needed, earning the title of war, not mere battle.
If any Master or Servant initially underestimated this slaughter or clung to naive hopes, such delusions were now shattered.
Witnessing earth-shaking powers and the indomitable will of ancient heroes, no mage could remain cavalier. They'd face the coming trials with utmost seriousness.
Yet, even in this chaotic war, order persisted—not true order, but a facade of justice.
The Holy Grail War held an unbreakable rule: never disrupt the balance between reality and mystery. The mage's code of secrecy forbade exposing magic to ordinary people.
But this War's Masters and Servants trampled that rule. Save for the first night's port battle, which barely adhered, their actions caused havoc—demolishing Fuyuki's grandest hotel, brazenly sailing a golden airship through the skies—each act eroding the unspoken code.
Risei Kotomine recalled his friend Tokiomi's earnest plea before the War, promising to minimize its impact, ensuring the Servants' battles wouldn't disturb the mundane world.
What a failure, Risei thought. Had Tokiomi, so close to victory, forgotten his vow?
Reflecting on their long friendship, Risei dismissed the thought. With his son Kirei aiding Tokiomi, alongside two Servants, they'd surely remember the rule. He was overthinking.
Still, mentioning Kirei stirred unease. "No word today. How are Kirei and Tokiomi faring?" Risei mused in the empty church, a bad feeling gnawing at him. Gazing at the sky, he prayed silently for their safety.
The War neared its end, yet neither his friend nor son had sent updates, fueling his worry.
But with Kirei and two Servants by Tokiomi's side, they should be fine. Perhaps other matters delayed them. Risei need only wait, guarding the trump card to secure their victory.
He touched his right arm, covered in dozens of crimson Command Seals—a hidden arsenal. With these, any mage could dominate the War without strategy. Yet, unbeknownst to all, the Church's righteous overseer had rigged the game, promising victory to one from the start.
Sighing, Risei calmed his unease with prayer, preparing to retire. Then—
Creak!
The door groaned, starlight spilling through, mingling with moonlight. Risei shielded his eyes, stepping back from the glow, avoiding its judgment on his sinful form. A slender figure with dark hair approached through the moonlit haze.
Not Tokiomi. Not Kirei. A stranger visiting the church.
"Sorry, the church is closed. If you need prayer, confession, or help…" Risei began, his tone kind.
"I don't pray or confess," Roy replied, smiling as he neared. "I don't pray to gods, for my desires are my own, beyond their ken. I don't seek salvation, for the Almighty is too lofty, too busy with countless followers to heed me—especially a voice like mine."
Risei froze at the words.
"I don't confess, for it brings no true guidance—just hollow forgiveness. Can that erase your errors, atone for your sins? With divine approval, you forget your wrongs and move on, but what of those you've harmed? No god compensates them."
"I'm pragmatic, stubborn. Rather than gods or forgiveness, I believe in one truth." Roy sat on a nearby chair, gazing down at Risei like a king. "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. Trust your heart—that's your magic. I believe in my will, my hands, and the god within me."
His words weren't a question but a declaration, devoid of courtesy or respect from the moment he entered.
Roy wasn't a believer, but he respected those who lived their faith. Had Risei upheld fairness, overseeing the War impartially, Roy would've called him Father Risei and honored his efforts.
But Risei chose desire over duty, betraying his faith.
A sinful priest deserved no respect.
Risei frowned, a chill of foreboding rising. The youth's aura was uncanny, making his aged frame sweat, his heart—unshaken even against Dead Apostles—quaking with dread.
Roy's words blasphemed the Lord. Normally, Risei would rebuke and expel such a heretic, but his honed instincts screamed caution. An unseen threat loomed, promising dire consequences for rash moves.
Still, he didn't yield. He gripped a Black Key hidden in his sleeve, ready to strike.
"Agh!" A searing pain made him cry out, the Black Key slipping to the floor with a clatter.
Stunned, he saw the weapon glowing red, warped by heat. Beside Roy, a crimson, winged, ethereal figure hovered, the air sizzling. It stood like a loyal guardian at his side.
"Archangel?!" Risei gasped, thinking of Michael. Though not exact, the figure's presence, in a church under moonlight, felt too close to ignore.
"Michael, you say?" Roy laughed. Not the archangel rivaling gods, but linked. Crafted from The Book of the Law's angel-summoning lore and alchemical theories, it fused the Christian four archangels with the four elemental spirits. The fire spirit Salamander merged with Michael's holy flame, birthing this unique fire-angel familiar.
Though far weaker than a true archangel, it sufficed as a familiar—and its Michael-like visage was intimidating. This was one of Roy's hidden aces.
Abandoning Kayneth's Volumen Hydrargyrum and jewel magecraft, he unveiled the Crowley family's true magical secrets.
"What… is this?" Risei stammered, trembling under the angel's righteous gaze, its instinct to judge sinners ignited.
His heart screamed it was fake. In this age, divine revelations were fading; no archangel would descend.
Yet, this fire-angel bore Michael's traits, its holy wrath burning for Risei's sins.
"Enough," Roy commanded, raising a hand. The angel vanished, its flames extinguished.
Risei felt he'd dreamed, but Roy sat, smiling. "Tell me, Father, is the Lord just?"
Uncertain but earnest, Risei answered, "The Lord is just, for He—"
"Because He created the world?" Roy interrupted, his smile fading. "Then why leave so much sin and error, letting misfortune plague the earth?"
"It's the Lord's trial for humanity," Risei replied, citing doctrine.
"So, disasters persist because humanity fails His trials?" Roy stood, passing Risei to face the giant crucifix under stained glass, now prismatic in moonlight. "You say humanity's failures warrant elimination, but the merciful Lord grants chances, so we must be grateful?"
Risei stared, shocked, as Roy questioned the Lord directly. His mind reeled, unable to grasp the situation—whether reality or nightmare.
Ignoring him, Roy challenged the crucifix. "Lord, if You cast humanity from Eden, why meddle? If we're discarded, why impose trials and chances? Merciful, omniscient God, I know the truth, though You never speak it."
Risei's eyes widened.
"This isn't a trial—it's punishment. Humanity's original sin is erring, believing their wrongs go unseen, learning nothing, repeating tragedies. I know this."
Turning to the frozen Risei, Roy smiled. "Father, I know you're a sinner too."
His words were a devil's whisper, a heavenly proclamation, a sinner's scream, a loved one's accusation.
Bang! The church doors slammed shut, startling Risei. A chilling dread engulfed him, as if dragging him into an abyss.
He looked at the figure on the altar, seeing contradictions—man and woman, adult and child, saint and sinner, angel and demon.
What is this being?
I see it.
The whisper echoed, driving Risei to clutch his head. Shadows twisted, countless eyes opening behind Roy, staring.
You're a sinner.
You broke doctrine, betrayed your heart.
Trials are punishments, watching humanity fail. The Lord doesn't love us.
You don't think your sins are unseen, do you?
Risei trembled, losing control, paralyzed by guilt.
Sin brought punishment.
If humanity's sins earned divine wrath, what was his?
Desperate, he looked to Roy for answers, voice quaking.
Roy approached. "Your punishment? Let me show you."
Splatter! Crimson sprayed, Risei's scream echoing as his sin, with his blood, returned to the earth, to the Lord's world.
Roy gazed at the row of Command Seals on his arm, smiling brightly. "Don't seek more. Leave now."
He pushed open the church doors. "Everyone's made their choices. This War's chaos is beyond a sinner like you. As a father, a priest, you failed your role. But now, listen to the faithful as a true priest should."
"I'll bear your remaining sins."
His voice faded as he vanished into the night.
Risei, clutching his severed arm, stared at the doors. The ordeal felt like a dream, save for the pain and blood. Slumping onto a pew, his guilt-ridden heart felt oddly at peace, as if a shackle had broken.
Fuyuki Park
"Looks like your side's done, Aoko," Roy said, lounging on a park bench, addressing the two women returning from their task. "Any tricks from Kiritsugu?"
The red-haired Aoko didn't answer, instead tossing him a blue scabbard adorned with golden patterns. "Here, what you wanted."
After Aoko's inspection and Scáthach's Rune blasts, it was confirmed: the legendary scabbard, Avalon.
Aoko sat beside him, lighting a cigarette. "Aoko, ease up. You've smoked nearly a pack since we left," Roy noted, eyeing her empty pack.
"You my husband now, managing my life? My body's replaceable; health's no issue," She retorted, exhaling a smoke ring. "When I'm down, smoking or drinking's all I've got."
Trading the Lesser Grail for Avalon, despite her longing for the Third Magic, stung. She smoked to dull the pain.
Roy gave a wry smile, understanding her sacrifice. He'd shared the Third Magic's secrets, but Aoko had captured Irisviel. Her effort was a heavy price.
Grateful, he said nothing.
Scáthach sat on his other side, curious. "Master, did you finish your task?"
"Smoothly. The final piece fell into place," Roy replied, showing his arm, laden with Command Seals. "This was my backup plan without Avalon. Now, with both, we're set."
"Command Seals?" Scáthach, usually composed, was stunned. Aoko gaped. "Over thirty?! Where'd you get those?"
"A kind old priest gave them to me, hoping to atone for his sins," Roy said casually.
Aoko was speechless. Priest? Sins? What's this nonsense? A mage wasn't a confessor. Roy loved his riddles.
But joy overtook her. With Avalon and so many Command Seals, she pitied the remaining Servants.
"What about Kiritsugu and Saber? Any moves?" Roy asked.
Scáthach answered, "Kiritsugu was calm, accepting reality. Saber raged at our deceit, shocked when Kiritsugu revealed her lost scabbard, feeling betrayed."
Recalling Artoria's expression, Scáthach chuckled. "She's so oblivious—not seeing Berserker as her knight Lancelot or her scabbard hidden by her Master. Poor thing."
"No surprise there," Roy nodded. Kiritsugu, paranoid and self-centered, wouldn't return Avalon to Saber. It could boost her, but also negate his Command Seals' control. Handing it over meant ceding power. He'd weaken her to keep control, hiding the truth until Roy's threat forced it out.
"Poor Artoria, always betrayed," Roy sighed. "Soon, I'll help her due to our pact. Hope she sees clearly then."
He glanced at the dawn breaking, stretching under the first rays. This was likely the last peaceful day.
Tonight, it would end.
An idea struck. Turning to the women, he smiled. "What is it, Master?" Scáthach asked, curious.
"Something up?" Aoko tensed.
"Something important," Roy teased, extending his hands. "May I have the honor of inviting you lovely ladies to breakfast?"
They exchanged glances, laughing together.
Dawn had come. All that remained was to wait.
When night fell, their final war would ignite, settling all grudges.
***
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