HEY IM BACKKK. Sorry I didn't upload for months, college is kicking my ass harder than I expected. Also deleted the Prologue—I cringed so hard reading it, can't believe I wrote that crap.
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The Morning After
The first thing Eiji registered was sunlight.
It cut through the gap in the curtains, a sharp golden line across his face that pulled him out of a dreamless sleep. For a moment, he just lay there, blinking at the ceiling. His body felt heavy. His head throbbed dully behind his eyes—the familiar ache of overusing his spatial magecraft.
Right. Last night. The docks. Saber. Lancer. The golden idiot raining swords on everyone. The alliance. Telling the King of Knights her entire life's purpose might be a lie.
The clink of a teacup came from the living room. Cu was up. Or had never gone to sleep. Eiji still wasn't sure if Servants actually needed sleep or if Cu just liked napping on the couch because it was comfortable.
He dragged himself out of bed eventually. His hair was a disaster and he was still in yesterday's clothes, but that felt like a problem for future Eiji.
"Morning, Master. You look terrible."
Cu was exactly where Eiji had left him last night—sprawled across the couch, one leg dangling off the edge. A rune floated above the coffee table heating a kettle. The smell of tea filled the room.
"You look like you haven't moved in eight hours." Eiji said.
"That's because I haven't. The couch is comfortable. You've got good taste."
Eiji dropped into a chair. The kettle tipped itself over a waiting cup, and a tea bag plopped in from nowhere. Domestic rune magic. The legendary Child of Light, folks.
"Thanks." Eiji mumbled.
Cu sat up, stretching his arms overhead. The lazy expression faded a notch. "We've got a problem."
"Of course we do."
"Someone's been sitting outside our bounded field for about twenty minutes. Didn't cross the line, so I didn't do anything. But they're not hiding."
Eiji set down his tea and walked to the window. Black Mercedes at the end of the street. Kiritsugu Emiya standing beside it with his arms crossed, looking like he'd been carved out of ice.
"He's early." Eiji said.
"Want me to tell him to get lost?"
"No." Eiji watched the car for a moment longer. "If he wanted to kill us, he wouldn't be standing out in the open." A pause. "Probably."
...
Kiritsugu entered the way he did everything—quiet, efficient, his eyes sweeping the room in a single pass. Irisviel followed, her expression warmer but still guarded. Saber came last, out of her armor, one hand resting near her side where Eiji's spatial compression was still holding the Gáe Buidhe wound shut.
Eiji noticed the way she moved. Stiff. Compensating. She'd never admit it was bothering her, but the wound was clearly worse this morning than it had been last night.
"Tea?" Cu offered from the couch.
Kiritsugu ignored him. "Saber's wound is degrading. The compression you applied is losing integrity."
"Irisviel monitored it overnight." Eiji guessed.
"Yes. The curse is still active underneath. Your technique slowed the bleeding but it's not stable. I need to know if you can maintain it long-term."
Irisviel stepped forward. "I've never seen spatial magecraft used on a living wound before. It's remarkable work, Eiji. But the curse is fighting back. It's like holding a door closed against something that keeps pushing harder."
Saber spoke for the first time. Her voice was steady but quieter than last night. "I am still capable of fighting. But if the compression fails during battle, I will be at a disadvantage."
Cu stretched on the couch. "So you came here for a tune-up."
"We came here because you offered an alliance." Kiritsugu's eyes hadn't moved from Eiji. "You clearly recognized Lancer's weapons before anyone else did. You knew what Gáe Buidhe could do. What else do you know?"
Straight to the point. Classic Kiritsugu. He wasn't here just for the wound, he was testing Eiji's value as an information source.
"Gáe Buidhe—the Yellow Rose—inflicts wounds that can't heal by any means until the spear is destroyed or Lancer is killed." Eiji said. "Gáe Dearg—the Red Rose—pierces magical protections. It's how he cut through Saber's Invisible Air. Together they make him lethal in single combat, especially against opponents who rely on magical defenses."
"And his identity?"
Eiji hesitated. But holding back now would just make Kiritsugu more suspicious. "Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. First warrior of the Knights of Fianna. The spears came from Manannán mac Lir and Aengus Óg."
Saber's expression flickered. "Diarmuid of the Love Spot. I know that tale. A knight whose legend was shaped by a curse he never asked for."
"There's a love spot on his face." Eiji added. "Magical. Any woman who looks directly at it falls under its influence. Irisviel, you should probably avoid eye contact if you're ever close to him."
Irisviel blinked, then exchanged a glance with Saber. Something silent passed between them.
Kiritsugu didn't react to that at all. He just filed it away somewhere in that cold, calculating mind of his. "You knew all of this before the battle and didn't share it."
"I was a little busy trying not to get shot by your sniper."
Silence.
"Maiya Hisau." Kiritsugu said after a moment. No denial. "She's my auxiliary. She'll be watching you. If that's a problem, say so now."
"It's not." Eiji's hands tightened around his teacup anyway. "I get it. Trust takes time."
Kiritsugu reached into his coat and set a small communicator on the table. "Encrypted. Don't use it unless it's urgent. I'll contact you if I have information."
Eiji picked it up. Heavier than it looked. "I'll reinforce the compression on Saber's wound. It should hold longer this time. But it's not a solution, we need to deal with Lancer eventually."
"Leave Lancer to me. Your job is to stay alive and keep providing information." Kiritsugu paused. "If what you said about the Grail is true, you're more useful as an intelligence asset than a combatant."
"Gee, thanks."
Cu snorted from the couch.
Saber cleared her throat. "There is another matter. Assassin's death was clearly staged. Tokiomi and Kirei Kotomine are working together, which means they now have intelligence on every Servant who revealed themselves at the docks. Including Caster."
"And they know where we live." Eiji added. "Assassin tailed us before. It's only a matter of time."
"Then you should relocate." Kiritsugu said.
"Can't. Not yet."
Kiritsugu's eyes narrowed.
"There's an orphanage in the city. Kids. People who have nothing to do with this war." Eiji met his gaze without flinching. "I'm setting up a bounded field around it before things escalate. I'm not leaving them unprotected."
For a long moment, Kiritsugu just looked at him. Something unreadable passed behind his eyes. Then he turned toward the door. "We'll be in contact. Reinforce the wound before we leave."
...
The reinforcement went smoother the second time. Eiji had a better feel for the curse now, the specific texture of Gáe Buidhe's lingering malice. He tightened the spatial compression around Saber's side like sealing a valve. It would hold longer this time. Not forever, but longer.
Saber watched him work. When he finished, she gave a small nod. "Thank you. This is twice now."
"Don't mention it." Eiji wiped his forehead. The prana drain still left him feeling hollow, but it was manageable. "Just... be careful out there."
"I am aware of the dangers." She paused. "And Eiji—what you told us last night. About the Grail. If it is truly corrupted, then my entire quest may have been built on a lie. That is... difficult to accept." Her voice didn't waver, but there was something fragile underneath. "But if there is even a chance you are right, I must see this through to its end."
"That's why I told you."
Saber studied him. "You know of my sword."
"Yeah." Eiji didn't elaborate.
She held his gaze a moment longer, then inclined her head and followed the others out.
...
The black Mercedes rolled through the quiet morning streets of Fuyuki. Irisviel drove. Kiritsugu sat in the passenger seat with his eyes on the side mirror, watching the safehouse shrink behind them until it disappeared around a corner. Saber was in the back, one hand pressed lightly against her side where Eiji's reinforced compression sat snug around the wound.
Nobody spoke for a long time.
Irisviel broke the silence first. "He seemed sincere."
"He seemed prepared." Kiritsugu said. "There's a difference."
"I think he was telling the truth as he understands it. That doesn't make it reliable." Kiritsugu's voice was flat, the same tone he used when discussing logistics. "He's twelve years old. He claims he got his information from records Touko Aozaki showed him. Records from the Third War that no one else has seen. It's convenient."
Saber shifted in the back seat. "His knowledge of Lancer's identity was accurate. His intervention with my wound was genuine. And what he said about the Grail..." She paused, choosing her words. "It aligns with things I would rather not believe, but cannot easily dismiss."
"You want to believe him."
"I want to understand the truth. If the Grail is corrupted, then everything I sought is already lost. That is not something I accept lightly."
Kiritsugu finally turned his head, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. "The Grail's corruption doesn't change our objective. We win the war first. We deal with whatever comes after."
"And if there is no 'after' that resembles what we planned?"
"Then we adapt."
Irisviel's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Kiritsugu... the boy knew about the Third War. About Angra Mainyu. Those aren't things an ordinary child would even know to ask about. Touko Aozaki is notorious, but she's not known for fabricating information. If she truly had access to records from the Third War—"
"Then we verify it." Kiritsugu pulled out his communicator. "Maiya."
A crackle of static, then Maiya's voice came through. "Here."
"The boy's background. I want everything. The orphanage, his connection to Touko, how long he's been in Fuyuki, when he obtained his Command Seals. If there's a paper trail, find it."
"Understood. And the orphanage he mentioned?"
Kiritsugu paused. For a brief moment, something flickered across his expression. "Leave it.He's setting up a bounded field there. If he's genuinely trying to protect civilians, interfering would only make him hostile. We need him cooperative for now."
"And if he's not?"
"Then we'll know soon enough."
The communicator clicked off. Silence settled back into the car.
Saber watched the city pass by outside the window. Rows of houses, convenience stores, a park with a swingset. Ordinary life continuing as if the war hadn't started. "He reminded me of someone." she said quietly.
Irisviel glanced at her in the mirror. "Who?"
"Merlin." Saber's voice was distant. "Not in temperament. The boy is nothing like him in character. But the way he spoke—like he already knew how things would unfold and was only waiting for us to catch up. Merlin had that same quality. It was infuriating then, and it is infuriating now."
Irisviel almost smiled. "You don't trust him."
"I don't distrust him. That's the problem." Saber looked down at her hand, still pressed against the wound. "He helped me twice. He asked for nothing in return except an alliance. If he is lying, he is either a better actor than any child should be, or he believes what he says so thoroughly that the difference hardly matters."
"Or he's telling the truth." Irisviel said.
Saber didn't answer.
"The Einzbern elders." Kiritsugu said suddenly. "They would have known about the Third War. They participated in it."
Irisviel nodded slowly. "Yes. The family records would have details. But I was never given full access to those archives. They were sealed after the war ended poorly for us."
"Because they summoned Avenger."
The name hung in the air. Nobody had said it out loud since Eiji first mentioned it last night.
Saber spoke. "If the Einzbern family summoned a Servant that corrupted the Grail, then this war is not merely a contest. It is a continuation of a mistake made sixty years ago."
"And we're the ones paying for it." Kiritsugu said. His voice was cold, but there was something underneath—anger, maybe, or the closest thing to it he ever allowed himself. "The elders sent me here to win. They gave me Avalon. They gave me Irisviel. They never mentioned that the prize was already tainted."
"They may not have known." Irisviel said, though her voice lacked conviction. "Or they may have believed the corruption was purged over time."
"Do you believe that?"
She didn't answer.
The car turned onto a quieter road, heading toward the eastern edge of the city where the Einzbern had established their temporary base. It was an old Western-style mansion, rented through intermediaries, large enough to house them without drawing too much attention. The trees around it were starting to turn, early signs of autumn creeping into the leaves.
Kiritsugu spoke again. "We proceed as planned. Lancer is the immediate threat. Kayneth El-Melloi is a known quantity—arrogant, predictable, but dangerous if given time to prepare. We eliminate them first."
"And then?" Saber asked.
"Then we reassess. If the boy's information holds up, we adjust our endgame. If it doesn't, we've lost nothing by keeping him close."
Saber's jaw tightened. "You speak of him as if he's a tool to be discarded."
"He's too much of an anomaly."
Saber leaned forward slightly. "Kiritsugu. If the Grail is truly corrupted, what becomes of your wish?"
The question hit the air like a stone dropping into still water.
Kiritsugu didn't move. His expression didn't change. But something in the car shifted—a tension that hadn't been there before, deeper than the usual wariness between Master and Servant.
"The wish." he said slowly. "was always a means to an end. If the Grail can't grant it the way I intended, I'll find another way."
"And if there is no other way?"
"Then I'll make one."
Saber held his gaze in the rearview mirror. For a moment, the King of Knights and the Magus Killer looked at each other without speaking. They had never understood each other. They probably never would. But somewhere in that silence, an acknowledgment passed between them, that the path ahead was darker than either had planned for, and they would have to walk it anyway.
Irisviel pulled the car into the mansion's driveway. The gates closed behind them with a soft metallic click.
...
The first thing Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald registered was the cold.
Not the refined chill of a properly warded workshop. Not the measured temperature control of a magus's sanctuary. Just cold. Damp, creeping, undignified cold. The kind that seeped into your bones and reminded you exactly how far you had fallen.
He opened his eyes to a water-stained ceiling. Somewhere in the distance, a pipe dripped with maddening regularity.
The abandoned warehouse on the western edge of Fuyuki was a far cry from the top floor of the Hyatt. No bounded fields. No mercury-laced defenses. No climate control, no running water, no proper furniture. Just concrete and rust and the constant smell of mildew. Sola-Ui had refused to speak to him since they arrived. She sat in the corner now, wrapped in the one clean blanket they'd managed to salvage, staring at the wall with an expression that hovered somewhere between contempt and exhaustion.
Kayneth sat up slowly. His body ached. Volumen Hydrargyrum had saved his life when the hotel collapsed—the mercury had reacted faster than his conscious mind, enveloping him in a protective sphere as the building came down around him. But the strain of maintaining that defense, combined with the sheer force of the destruction, had left his circuits raw and his pride in ruins.
Kiritsugu Emiya.
The name burned in his mind like a curse. He had underestimated the man. No, worse, he had dismissed him entirely. A mercenary playing at magecraft. A hired gun with no lineage, no proper training, no understanding of the art he was defiling. That was what Kayneth had told himself. And while he was telling himself that, Kiritsugu Emiya had planted enough explosives to level a skyscraper and walked away without ever facing him directly.
He hadn't even had the decency to fight like a magus.
"Lancer."
Diarmuid materialized at his side without sound. Even now, even in this miserable warehouse, the Servant's posture was perfect. Shoulders back. Eyes alert. Spears ready. The very picture of knightly devotion. It made Kayneth want to strike him.
"Master. How are you feeling?"
"How do you think I'm feeling?" Kayneth pushed himself to his feet. His coat was ruined—torn in three places and stained with dust and blood. He'd have to find replacements. He'd have to find everything. "That man. That... commoner. He blew up my hotel. My workshop. My—" He stopped himself before he could say more. Sola-Ui was still in the room. He would not show weakness in front of her.
Diarmuid waited in patient silence. It was somehow worse than if he'd spoken.
"Kiritsugu Emiya will pay for this." Kayneth said, his voice dropping to something cold and precise. "I will strip every bounded field from his corpse and display his Command Seals in a case. But first—first, I need to understand how this happened. How did he know which hotel? How did he know my defenses well enough to bypass them?"
"Master, I believe he didn't bypass them." Diarmuid's voice was measured, careful. "He simply destroyed the building itself. Your defenses were never breached. They were rendered irrelevant."
Kayneth's jaw tightened. He wanted to argue. Wanted to explain that a proper magus would never resort to such crude, brutish tactics—that there were rules, traditions, standards of conduct. But the words died in his throat. Because Diarmuid was right. Kiritsugu hadn't tried to defeat Kayneth's magecraft. He'd simply blown up the building it was housed in. The elegance of the defenses meant nothing when the entire structure ceased to exist.
"That boy." Kayneth said suddenly. "At the docks. The one who tried to assassinate me."
Diarmuid's expression flickered. "Eiji Amamiya. Caster's Master."
"Yes. Him." Kayneth began pacing, his footsteps echoing in the empty warehouse. "I had planned to deal with him first. A child, playing at being a Master—it was an insult to everyone participating in this war. His elimination would have been a public service. But now..."
He stopped. Turned. His eyes were sharp and cold.
"Now Emiya has made this personal. The boy can wait. Kiritsugu Emiya dies first."
Diarmuid didn't respond immediately. When he did, his voice was careful. "Master, I understand your anger. But Emiya's methods are... unconventional. He will not face us directly. He will use proxies. Traps. He will attack from angles we cannot anticipate."
"Then we will force him into the open." Kayneth began sorting through what remained of his belongings—a few salvaged trunks, some sealed containers that had been stored off-site. "He has a wife. Irisviel von Einzbern. She was at the docks with Saber. If we target her, he'll have no choice but to respond."
Diarmuid's jaw tightened. "Master. She is not a combatant. She is—"
"She is the vessel for the Grail." Kayneth cut him off. "That makes her a legitimate target. Or are you going to lecture me about honor again?"
The silence that followed was heavy. Diarmuid's grip on his spears had tightened, but he said nothing.
"I thought not." Kayneth turned away. "Now. Help me catalog what we have left. If we're going to hunt the Magus Killer, I need to know exactly what resources are still available."
...
The inventory was grim.
Most of Kayneth's Mystic Codes had been stored in the hotel. His workshop tools, his reference materials, his collection of catalysts and reagents—all destroyed. What remained were the items he'd kept in a secondary storage unit outside the city: a few defensive charms, some basic alchemical supplies, and a sealed case containing his backup research notes. Enough to function. Not enough to feel like a Lord of the Clock Tower.
Volumen Hydrargyrum was intact. That was the one bright spot. The mercury Mystic Code had absorbed the brunt of the explosion and emerged undamaged. It was still the most powerful weapon in his arsenal, a shapeshifting mass of prana-infused mercury that could attack, defend, and analyze simultaneously. Against a conventional magus, it would be overwhelming.
But Kiritsugu Emiya wasn't a conventional magus.
Kayneth sat at the makeshift table—a shipping crate with a plank laid across it and began sketching out a plan. He needed to think like his enemy. A man who didn't fight fair. Who used explosives and firearms and whatever else was available.
"Lancer. What do you know about Emiya's Servant?"
Diarmuid stood near the door, keeping watch. "Saber. A knight of considerable skill. She fights with an invisible blade, likely a Noble Phantasm designed to obscure her identity. She is honorable. Perhaps to a fault."
"Honorable." Kayneth's lip curled. "That means she'll fight you directly if challenged. Good. Emiya may not engage, but his Servant will. If we can separate them, force Saber into a duel while Emiya watches from the shadows..."
"Then Emiya will be vulnerable." Diarmuid finished. There was no enthusiasm in his voice.
"You disapprove."
"I am your Servant, Master. My approval is not required."
"No. It isn't." Kayneth set down his pen. "But I'm curious. What would you do differently?"
Diarmuid was quiet for a moment. "I would challenge Saber to an honorable duel. No traps. No proxies. Just two knights settling their battle as warriors should. The war does not need to be ugly. It does not need to be a slaughter."
"Pretty words." Kayneth stood. "But this isn't a legend, Lancer. This is the Holy Grail War. And in this war, the ugly ones win. Emiya understands that. The boy at the docks—he understood it too, when he tried to stab me in the back. The only person in this war who still believes in honor is you, and it's going to get you killed.