Fate/Stay Pony

by SwimmingDalek98

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Random, Adventure, Crossover, Human, Dark
Length: 22220

I am the bane of Celestia. I was sealed for over a thousand years. Unknown to history, nor known to science. I've lost my home to obtain this great power. Yet, this one shall not be alone. So, as I say, Unlimited Pony Works!

Servants. What does the word mean? It means those who obey the wishes and desires of those they call 'master'. But to us, that word means so much more now.

We number only seven. But there are no greater Servants in history. None greater than us. That much, I can assure you. We wield power that no man can hope to equal. But it is not the power of any man that bested us one thousand years ago. It was the power of Harmony. Sealed away, we have watched as time ticked on, only to find ourselves wakened by Chaos. Now, we roam free. We await the commands of new Masters. And the chance to cross blades with even greater foes.

But, we shall not be taken lightly. We shall serve only those who wield the strength of kings, those who are willing to change the world.

I ask this of you now: Are you strong enough to be our Masters?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-07-05 08:19:49 UTC

Turn One: Wheel of Fate

Fate/Stay Pony

Turn One: Wheel of Fate

        By the Root, my back itches. As in, so much that you’d have to go through eight hundred back scratchers just for my shoulders. I cannot honestly think of any way for this to be worse. No way, no how. The pigeons would just make it funny at this point. I learned after at least two hundred years of this to learn to laugh at yourself. After all, getting stoned worse than Bob Marley tends to leave you with very few options.

        Oh, HI! Didn’t see ya there. Nice to meet ya. I would tell you my name, but at this point, I don’t really give a care. You can just go soak your own head, for all I care.

        … Still here? Okay, fine. I’m a guy who… strange as this may sound, did a thing with my friends and we wound up in a land of cartoon horses. Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want. But it’s true. Specifically, we wound up as various Servants from the Fate series. Guess who I am? By the way: No hints. You’ll just have to guess.

        “And can anypony tell me what THIS statue represents?” Oh, god. Tourists. Oh, boy. Time for more childish remarks and unfunny jokes.

        “Uh… I can’t really tell… what IS it, exactly?” Oh. It’s kids on a field trip. Much better. Wait, whaddya MEAN you don’t know what I am? C’mon, what’re they teaching kids these days? Don’t even know who I am. That’s just sad.

        “Well, this statue is one of seven, said to represent seven evil warriors that plagued the land over a thousand years ago. Each of them wielded strange and incomprehensible magic, and they left trails of destruction in their wake.” Correction: Berserker left only destruction in his wake. The rest of us, on the other hand (or hoof, if ya wanna get nitpicky), did not. We left a lot of destruction ourselves, but moreso left unpaid checks at diners and empty inventories at clothing stores.

        “That’s really scary, Miss Cheerilee…” Dear, GOD that voice is so annoying. Too high-pitched. Like Bieber.

        “What’s there to be scared of? They’re gone now. And just look at him! He can’t be THAT tough!” Wanna bet? “I bet Rainbow Dash could beat him in no time!”  Huh, I guess ya really did… Wait, Rainbow who? Oh, no… We’re at ‘that’ point, aren’t we? Well, shit. Prepare for anarchy, Equestrians. That is all I have to say to you.

        “Don’t be so sure of that, Scootaloo.” What kind of name is THAT? “This one is considered the strongest of them all.” Well, I don’t mean to toot my own horn… Wait, of course I do. “He was known as Archer.” Yep. That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.

        “Well, why’s he holdin’ up a couple a’ swords?” Is… is that a Texan accent I hear? Dear God, I never thought I’d hear one again. Wait, DO THEY SERIOUSLY NOT KNOW THAT MUCH ABOUT US?

        “Archer, despite his name, was said to be just as good a swordsman as he was with a bow. He wielded a thousand blades, and each of them could splice mountains and crumble valleys.” Well, certainly not ALL of them. Some are borderline useless (looking at you, scimitar #4582), but a good portion are more than useful in the right scenario.

        “Wow…” The entire class spoke in unison, and now were staring in awe at me. My mind forms a grin, and I take a moment to realize their perspective. A man, clad in simple armor, with a long, billowing cloak behind him, and with two blades in his hands, and both are equal in design. A look of raw determination and power upon his features. Short, but spiked, and well-combed, hair, white like the clouds.

        Yeah, I’m awesome. And I know it. C’mon, where’s the barrage of questions? Let’s hear what ya have to say, kids. Go ahead, no need to be shy. Where’s the praise at?

        “What IS he, exactly?” Okay… Now a pink one with a crown (?) on her head stares at me with bewilderment. “And why’s he so ugly?” Excuse me? Hey, the rest of the class does NOT get to laugh at my misery! Only I laugh at my own misery. Okay, scratch that. Saber, too.

        “Well, legends say that he and his allies came from another world, and that they’re known as Servants.” Wow, they actually got that part right.

        “What’re his friends like?” Oh, moving on so soon? But you’re missing the best part of the tour! How could you NOT wanna hear about ME?

        Ms. Cheerilee laughs, “Well, that’s actually a good question. They were all very unique warriors, and it’s said that together, they were unstoppable. His allies include a massive knight whose raw physical strength was enough to directly combat whole armies without the use of any magic or tools. His name was Berserker.”

        Clad in dark blue armor, with a long, lighter blue tassel jutting out from the helmet. The entire form is devoid of any identifying marks. His hands hold no tools, for he needs none. On his back, several long links of cloth, ending in sharp melds of metal, drape down, mimicking the presence of a cape.

        A smirk formed on my features. How ya doing over there, old sport? A sudden, but faint, burst of prana from his direction provides me an answer. Ouch, that’s harsh.

        Cheerilee motions to another shape, beyond my vision, but I still know in my heart who she refers to. “That one over there is called Caster. She’s said to have wielded sorcery that could best even the Princess’s magic.” FYI, it’s called MAGECRAFT. I let my own memory wander, as I remember Caster herself. Small, and with pointed vulpine ears protruding above her head. A large, fluffy tail extends behind her short, low-cut, blue kimono.

        “No way! Nopony has better magic than the Princess!” Honey, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m fairly certain even MY magic has more force than hers. And I use it for swords.

        “That’s just what the legends say. I’m sure that they’ve been warped over time.” Yeah, they’re actually at least 70% accurate so far. C’mon, what else do they have to say? Anything else about me?

Cheerilee points to a statue to my right, which I know isn’t too far from me. Only five meters away, tops. “The next is Lancer, a monstrous warrior who was said to impale anypony who opposed him. He would drink their blood. Legends claim that he was the origin of the vampony.”

        I grimace internally. Lancer is NOT very appreciative of being related to vampires. Okay, while he may technically be one, he’s not directly related to the creation of any Dead Apostles. And we all know that for a fact. I strain my eyes as far as I can. Without access to my magic circuits, I can’t reinforce my eyes. But I can just barely make him out.

        Wearing a long, black, and very clean coat lined with fur, over a clean and well-ironed suit, with a turtleneck poking from underneath. From behind him, his coattails drift out, frozen in stone. A head of white hair, long, and well-kept, hangs over his shoulders. A faint, noble, beard and mustache edge around his mouth and chin. His boots, shining and well-polished, and a yellow box tied to his leg. I dunno, that’s what it looks like.

        Well, old sport, don’t worry. Dracula isn’t all you are. You’re more than that. You’re my best buddy. Just hold it in for a little longer. I release a mental sigh, and look back to the students, who react with visible horror and disgust.

        “Well… er, moving on. The next Heroic Spirit is Assassin.” Oh, joy. More tales of death to tell. “She was said to wait in the shadows, and when her enemies would appear, she would strike, and finish them off before they even knew what hit them. She was said to be practically invisible, and those who attempted to fight her would only seeing thin air.” Yeah, that’s about right. I’m still unsure how even my reinforced vision couldn’t keep up with her. Makes me somewhat cautious.

        I turn my eyes to the area near Berserker, and lock onto a small form. Hair, white as the snow of a dark winter night, and eyes like that of a jungle predator, a deep amber yellow. Clad in only a small, black shirt, arm wraps, a thin pair of undergarments, and stockings, while several small daggers hang from her back. She stands upon small, pink, high-heels, and a scar is present upon the right side of her face.

        Poor girl. Too young for this business. She was scared, damnit! That’s why she did what she did! She’s a scared little girl, caught up in something she never should’ve been! I let a small, soothing wave off prana out, and direct it to her. A smile forms in my mind as I feel her reply in kind. She’s still here. Good.

        “Next is the one known as Rider.” Oh, boy. “She was said to be able to petrify ponies with just a gaze,” Kinda like how we are now? “And was able to use any kind of vehicle or mount as if it were a part of her own body. It was said she could even summon a great and mighty pegasus hat obeyed her no matter what.”

The children gasp at this, and one of them, a pale yellow one with what I swear is the poofiest red hair I have ever seen, raises her hoof, “Ms. Cheerilee, if they were so bad, then why’d this pegasus listen to her?”

Cheerilee smiled, “This pegasus is unlike the ponies you see walking down the street. This pegasus came from their world, and is said to be little more than an obedient animal.” Obedient isn’t the word I’d use. Especially when its definition of ‘obedience’ is to piss all over the carpet right after I clean it.

I turn my eyes to the next one over, and I’m greeted with a woman with long, purple hair, and a simple shirt with a small skirt. She wears thigh-high boots, and fingerless gloves just as long. In her hands are a pair of knives, with long chains extending from the pommels. Over her eyes is a mask, with an elegant marking upon her forehead.

I squirm at the memory of what those eyes can do, but remember that she’s still my friend. A good friend, who saved my life too many times to honestly count. She’s also the only reason the rest of us haven’t butchered each other. Seriously.

 Cheerilee leads her group to my side, and points behind me, “The last member of Archer’s team…” Okay, please don’t. The thought already hurts enough. Please, don’t bring her up. “She was known as Saber, and her skill with a blade exceeded even Archer’s. She was also able to learn any skill, as if she’d trained her whole life for it. She was also known for being Archer’s lover...” You got that right, old sport.

My mind calls forth her image, clear as day. An image I’ll never allow myself to forget. Under any circumstances. A brilliant red dress, with its front being just transparent enough to see her bronzed shin guards, and above that, her silky, pale, and soft legs, leading up to her hips. A low-cut front, revealing the uppermost section of her bosom. Her beautiful blonde hair, tied in a simple bun, but with one particular lock jutting out at a funny angle. Her eyes, a green of untarnished brilliance.

Saber… Even before all of this crap… you were perfect… you didn’t need the power of a Heroic Spirit… you are the one thing I needed most in all of my life.

“Notice how the statues stand back to back. This represents how they refuse to back down in the face of certain doom, and how they were unwilling to be separated.”

Bull.

Fucking.

Shit.

This is Celestia’s final nail in the coffin. She KNOWS we can still see and hear everything. This is simply her last method to break us. Put us so close, but unable to be together. This is the greatest torture, without a doubt. I’ve suffered for a thousand years in stone like this. We all have. Able to be so close, but never truly be there for each other. This isn’t symbolism. This is how you fuck with someone.

“Well, let’s move on.” Yeah. Go ahead. Just go. Please. Let me bury it. “Now, can anypony tell me what THIS statue represents?” Oh, boy… here we go…

“Er… chaos?”

“It’s not chaos, you dodo!”

“Don’t call me things I don’t know the meaning of, and it is too chaos!”

“Is not!”

“You’re both wrong!”

I sigh, and listened as the three kept going on and on, before Cheerilee broke them up. After the group walked away, my ears picked up the sound of faint laughter, and the statue burst into a small shower of pudding. In the place of the stone form, was instead the draconequus Discord. His inane giggling echoed through the garden, as he danced around the seven of us.

“Oh, it is so GOOD to be let free! Ah, I think the Equestrians have had enough stagnation for one millenia. Time to make mischief and cause chaos!” As he begins to speed off, a light bulb manifests over his head, “Hey… I got an idea… if I REALLY want some chaos… what better than the infamous seven Servants?” Wait, seriously? My god… this torture is over…

“Yes, that would be an absolutely SPLENDID idea, wouldn’t it, dear Saber?” I swear to god, if he’s touching her, I WILL RENDER THAT FUCKER LIMB FROM MISSHAPEN LIMB!

“Well, no time like the present! Chaos, ho!” Discord cracks his knuckles, and then sends rays of multicolored light onto us. The sound of stone cracking manifests extremely loudly. I feel my limbs loosening for the first time in centuries. My legs are twigs, and they collapse, sending me onto grass. Real, green, grass. Wait, scratch that. It was green. Now it’s purple.

“Well, whaddya think, guys? How does it feel? Oh, no need to thank me! I know EXACTLY how you fillies and gentlecolts feel, and I couldn’t BEAR to let my fellow inmates suffer any longer!” He manifests a prison suit, which he promptly rips off, and then rips off prison suits from all of us. I swear, the speed at which he can put that stuff ON us… ridiculous…

“Hey, Archie?” I slowly turn my head up, and I’m greeted with that snaggletoothed face. Right about now, it’s the mug I’m happiest to see.

“... What?” Discord grabs me, and lifts me onto my legs, and I find myself barely able to balance.

“We both know the whole ‘clashing of blades’ and ‘glorious combat’ thing isn’t my shtick, so would you mind giving old Celly one for me?”

I grin, and slowly nod in the affirmative. “Just… give us time to recover… We’re completely out of prana… We can’t fight anyone right now…” Discord turns into a bobblehead holding a sign saying ‘I <3 Archie’, and rabidly shakes his noggin.

“Aye yay yay...” I hear Caster off to the side, and she’s rubbing the back of her neck, holding herself against a flower bed. I smile, and reach out to her, grabbing her hand, and pulling her up to her feet.

“Oi… why can’t I feel my everything?” We all turn, to see Lancer on his back, groaning and barely able to move.

“Heh… Hey, Berserker… get that bugger on his feet…” I huff, and watch as the behemoth, obviously recovered the fastest of us, trots to Lancer, and picks him up.

“Archer...” I stop completely, and turn around, and I see her.

“S-Saber…” I take a heavy step, and raise myself onto the elevated flower bed I stood upon all this time. “Saber…” My eyes well up with tears.

Saber takes the same step, and begins to stumble forwards, crushing the flowers in her way. I begin walking the same way, before entering a full-on sprint. Petals spin through the air around us. She jumps into the air, with open arms, “Archer!”

“SABER!” She lands in my arms, and I spin her around, until I realize that I still have no energy, and promptly collapse. Now, she sits atop me, and we both stare into each others’ eyes. This is all I need. This moment can’t be any better.

Okay, scratch that. It’s raining chocolate milk. NOW it’s perfect. All of us laugh, barring Berserker, who just stares at the mysterious sticky substance falling from the air. When some falls in his helmet, he looks straight up and raises his mask up just enough for his mouth to be out, but not enough to dispel his shadowy Noble Phantasm, and extends his tongue, catching the sweet sugary dairy.

I look back to Saber, “Hey… you’ve got some on your face…” I lean forwards, and let my lips press against hers. Oh, yes. This can’t be any better. I grab her by the back of her head, and hold her closer.

Okay, scratch that. She’s using her tongue. I counter her motions, trying to see how much chocolate milk I could steal from her mouth (note to self: Discord deserves an entire truck’s worth of puppies for this).

Lancer nervously waves to me from the corner of my eye, “Guys? Hate to ruin the moment, but… we need to move to a safer location.” Okay, I’m right about one thing. This moment couldn’t have been any better. But it just got a whole lot worse.

Saber stares right at me, “I don’t want to get up…”

“Neither do I, but he’s got a point, old sport…” I slowly raise her off of myself, and then stand up. I aim my hand at her, and pick her up gently. She wobbles for a moment, but steadies her stance. I turn, “Berserker, think you can get all of us off of the mountain?”

Caster looks at me oddly, “Hey… you know where we can go, anyways? We don’t exactly have anyone willing to take us in…” She shivers in the chocolate dairy storm, and squeezes her tail, wringing it out.

I smirk, “I’ve got a few ideas in mind… but we need to see if they’re alright. Assassin, you’ll go with Berserker and I to check on the potential locations.” The dagger wielder nods, and climbs into Berserker’s large arms. I stumble over to him, and clamber upon his back. “Okay, Berserker, you’re gonna need to cooperate with me. I’m gonna reinforce your armor. Despite how much faith I have in your abilities, I still don’t have enough in gravity.” Berserker huffs, before launching himself into the air. As we reach maximum altitude, I send as much od as I can muster, and watch carefully as Berserker’s entire armor becomes coated in a variety of markings and seals.

As we fall to the ground, I notice a train coming to the city. Shit, they got here so soon? I just hope that Discord doesn’t rat us out. I then turn my gaze earthbound, and see Berserker about to hit the ground, and I tighten my grip as much as I can, and feel the impact spread through my comrade’s armor into my body. “Huh… that actually worked.” Berserker grunts, and I point him north-west. That’s the location of the last hideout I set up. Sure enough, Berserker dashes in the direction I indicated, covering vast distances in an instant.

My ears catch the sound of thunder above the castle. Shit, that’s the sign that Discord’s maze game is beginning. “C’mon, hurry up! We don’t have much time!” Berserker unleashes a guttural roar, and his speed multiplies. Within another few seconds, we’re standing before a thick, but small, forest. I step off of Berserker, and trod through the dirt, closely observing the bushes and thickets, reinforcing my eyes and ears. I take note of a particular crevice, and motion for Berserker to come closer. He takes several heavy steps, and when he approaches, I pull aside a thicket, revealing a sizable gap in the earth.

“Within there is a bed or two. They may not be in complete condition, but they should do until we return with better supplies. C’mon, just go in there. We’ll be right back, Assassin.” The girl nods, and clambers off of Berserker’s arms, and slowly climbs down into the pit. I internally wince as I realize that I’m basically asking a little girl to walk right into a dark hole in the ground.

“I promise, we’ll be back…” I pat Assassin on the head, before turning to Berserker, who nods and turns around again. I hop onto his back, now with some more prana in my system than before. I send some through his armor, and into his legs, reinforcing them immensely. Berserker leans back, and then leaps forward, now barely skipping along the many kilometers of earth, with Canterlot quickly coming in front of us. Berserker stops just as he approaches the mountain, and bounds up the side, climbing and grasping at stone, before acquiring a proper footing. He then leaps up again, and again, faster and faster, until we reach the top, landing at the garden, which is now a multi-layered, twisted labryinth.

“Discord!” My voice echoes through the maze. At this point, I care not if we’re found out. In a flash, the draconequus materializes, holding up a banana to his ear.

“He took his suitcase? Marge, honey. I don’t think he’s coming back. Look, I’ll have to call you back. No, I’ll call you. Okay, buh-bye.” He removes the banana from his ear, and squeezes it so hard, the fruit itself is launched from the peel, and lands right in his mouth.

“So, what can I do for you?” I look to Berserker, who grabs Discord by the throat, and applies pressure. The spirit, completely taken by surprise, has no time to even try to slither out.

“Where. Are. The others?” I look at him with a cold, angry glare, and manifest Bakuya, the White Yin Sword, in my right hand. I aim it at his head, “I want an answer. And a quick one.”

“Alright, al-*GACK*-alright!” I tap Berserker, who releases the spirit. Discord floats up, and shakes himself off, “Goodness! The nerve of some ponies! Well, people, in your case. Anyways, they’re in a hidden section of the maze, don’t you worry. I mean, c’mon! I wouldn’t bust you out just to throw you back in! You want them? Here, I’ll bring them.” He snaps his fingers, and the four manifest, plopping on the ground before me.

“Ow!” “Damnit!” “Gah!” “Holy shit!” The four each mutter, rubbing their injured behinds.

“Hey…” I mutter, and they all turn to me. I smirk, “The first hideout I made is still there. Assassin’s waiting for all of us. Now, before we go there, we need supplies. The beds are probably chewed through, and the sheets are most likely dust. While Discord’s causing chaos, we need to get the supplies we can. Caster, I know for a fact that you can send the stuff to where we need to go.” She promptly salutes, and giggles.

“Lancer, you and Rider are going to find what we need, and Berserker will help Caster transport it. I’ll be on lookout. Saber, I’ll be directing you through the streets to guide the guards away from them. Is that understood?”

“Yeah…” “Okay.” “Got it!” “Uh-huh…” I frown. This will not do at all.

“I said, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?” After a few tours in the Middle East, I’m fairly certain I know how to properly command a squad on my own.

“Sir, YES SIR!” That’s more like it. Then Berserker adds on with a proud roar. My reinforced hearing lets me detect several voices in the maze gasping in confusion.

Discord chuckles, “Heh… This is why I like you guys. Well, if there’s nothing left for us to do together, then I’ll see you all when you’re settled in. Maybe we’ll have a nice cup of coffee and chat? We’ll decide that when the time comes. Tah-tah!” The chaos spirit disappears in a blink of light.

“... I won’t tell him if you won’t tell him.”

“D’you honestly think anyone’s gonna tell him?”

“Uhm… no.”

“Nope.”

“Definitely not.”

“Nay.”

A grunt follows suit.

        At this point, I feel like this whole ‘get thrown into another world as Archer from Fate/Stay Night’ is way better than it seems. Sure, I’m in another world. Sure, I’ve probably been labelled as AWOL because I haven’t been seen for over a thousand years. Sure, I’ll probably never see any of my old friends again. But still, there are a few perks. Perk #1 of being Archer: Outdoing Hawkeye in every sense of the term. I absentmindedly shoot an arrow at an upcoming intersection, to the right, and Saber turns hard to it. Perk #2: Dat ass. Being able to reinforce and enhance one's vision has… very specific perks. Especially when your girl is wearing a skirt. I fire another arrow across from her, indicating she should proceed straight forward.

        She dashes along, and I dispel the arrow, leaving the guards in her dust. One thing you have to admit about them: they are mind-numbingly persistent. So far, they’ve been going at this long enough for Lancer and Rider to have rode Pegasus halfway around Canterlot, and have Berserker and Caster come in to get almost all of the supplies we need. Hell, Berserker could even carry Assassin back to us.

        Rider lands behind me, and I mumble under my breath, before calling back to her, “I’m guessing we don’t have much time left before Discord’s stoned again.” Rider responds in the negative.

        “Damnit. Once they bring him back to the gardens, they’ll see we’re gone. And when that happens… Celestia’s gonna throw a hissy fit... On second thought, maybe it’s NOT such a bad thing…” I fire another arrow, this time right in front of Saber, to signal that our job is done.

        I attune my sight and hearing to her, as she turns to her wannabe pursuers, “Gentlemen, as lovely as this jog has been, I’m afraid my boyfriend’s calling me. He’s the type of guy who can’t be alone for ten minutes before he starts crying.” Oh, you conniving little BITCH! “Well, maybe another time.” She leaps into the air, and Rider catches her on Pegasus without missing a beat.

        Rider takes Saber back to me, and Saber leaps down into my arms. I scowl, “I heard that.”

        “You were supposed to, love.” After she pecks me on the nose, my scowl slides away. I let her go, and turn to the rest of the team, who’s gathered behind us.

        “Well, now that we’re all here, I do believe it’s time for-” A sudden wave of rainbow-colored energy crashes down over the land, and all that was altered by Discord has suddenly become normal again.

        “-us to make our grand reappearance.” The others chuckle and giggle amongst themselves, and I simply manifest my Kanshou and Bakuya. “Let’s crash a party.”

        We wait in the shadows as the festivities go on. After a while, Celestia brings the Elements into another room, of which we easily sneak into. Except Berserker. He’s in the next room over, posing as a suit of armor. For him, that’s easier said than done.

        “Girls, while I am infinitely proud of you for what you’ve done, there is still an even greater task ahead. While Discord was causing chaos, the seven Servants of old used this opportunity to escape their imprisonment.”

        The multi-colored pegasus scoffs, “Ah, c’mon! They can’t be that bad! I mean, we have Equestria’s big old ‘fix-it’ button right here! So, c’mon! Bring ‘em in! I’ll kick their flanks so hard, they’ll WISH they stayed stone!”

        “Rainbow Dash, this is more serious than you believe. These seven are monsters in every sense of the word. Back when they first appeared, countless were slaughtered. Cities were burned. And they were too strong, and too fast for me and my sister to stand against. Do NOT take them lightly. They will not be afraid to fight dirty.”

        Rainbow Dash growls, “Well, I’ll still beat ‘em, one hoof tied behind my back!”

        “Challenge accepted.” I drop from the ceiling, and the others manifest in as many other ways they can, appearing from behind curtains, within a closet, and in the case of Berserker, through the wall.

        “You think you can best us, Element of Loyalty?” I scoff, and level my blades at her, “You boast and boast of your capabilities, but from what I observed, you didn’t even try to oppose Discord. All you did was use the Elements against him. I highly doubt if the tales of your prowess have any merit to them. Unless, of course, you want to prove them against me?” I maintain my bearing as she grits her teeth.

        “You saying I’m all bark and no bite or something?”

        “No. That would imply you were even capable of ‘barking’ as you say. What you do is more along the lines of ‘squeaking’.” That’s it… hit the soft spots, then let them come at you.

        “Okay, you wanna go?” I smugly grin, and dismiss my blades.

        “Go ahead. Show me what you’ve got.” I look to her with a killer’s glare, reinforcing my eyes to preview her muscle movements.

        “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya! HYAAAAAA!” As she charges at me, I notice her right foreleg muscles tightening, and the angle she’s cocking it back indicates that all I need to do to dodge is a simple step to the left.

        I step, and as she tries to understand how I evaded her, I give her a single kick in the chest, letting the sound of ribs cracking echo throughout the halls. As she coughs on the ground, I raise my leg, and stomp her on the head, “Let this be a lesson to you. Attempt to bring harm to any of us, and this will be your fate…” I apply pressure, and the other Elements stiffen in horror. “We will not do anything to you, if, in turn, you leave us be.” I take my boot off of Dash’s head, and walk towards Celestia, “I will not harm a single one of your ‘precious ponies’ if, in turn, you keep your distance. It’s not that hard to understand.” I manifest Kanshou and Bakuya, swinging them about for a moment, as the Elements watch in fascination at my sword-spinning.

        “After all you’ve done, you think you can just walk away from it all?”

I dash forwards, holding my blade to Celestia’s throat, now with a dead-on glare over my features, “YOU think you can lock us up, prisoners in our own bodies, for a thousand years, for acts we committed AGAINST OUR WILL, and just ‘walk away from it all’? You think you can hold me so close, and so far away, from MY Saber, and you’ll just be forgiven? No… I won’t forgive you for this… I will never forgive you for this. You made my Saber cry. The only reason your head is still attached is because I’m tired of killing innocents. You stay on your side of the fence…” I swing my blades about, and dismiss them, “And we’ll stay on ours. Got that?”

Celestia glares, but after a long, drawn-out silence, nods. I turn to Caster, “Get us out of here.”

The magus nods, and as she prepares a magic circle to send us all back to home base, Celestia strikes me in the chest with a magic bolt. Funny thing, magic resistance. My ranking completely nullifies the damage of a spell like that, but it doesn’t stop the force flying at me. So, I get thrown into the wall. And through it. Into the party room.

“You think I’ll sit by and let you prepare for another mass slaughter? I’ll end your threat here and NOW!” Okay, you wanna play this game? We’ll play this game. I hold up my hand, signalling the others should hold back. I kick-flip up, summoning Kanshou and Bakuya. I glare at her, and throw the blades quickly.

“Spirit and technique, flawless and firm.” Celestia deflects the two, and I close in, with another set prepared. “Our strength rips the mountains.” I swing with them in an X motion, knocking her back a fair amount. “Our swords split the water.” The first two curve back, and slice her along the back. “Our names reach the imperial villa.” I hold up another pair, of which I reinforce enough to become Overedge, and I dash forwards, holding them over my head, ready to deal the final strike. “The two of us cannot hold the heavens together.”

“Princess!” Twilight cries out, as I bring the blades down.

“Triple-Linked Crane Wings!” The final slash creates a large burst of od, which flings Celestia back into the floor. I glare at the dust and smoke, preparing another set of the blades. As the dust settles, I see that she’s standing up, but with some heavy wounds.

“Hmph. Look at yourself, Celestia. You would’ve been able to take TWENTY of that kind of attack in your prime. You’ve grown soft in these thousand years. But us? When you sealed us up, you froze us solid. We’re weapons of war, and we haven’t rusted at all.” I swing my blades around, and Celestia hisses as her side oozes scarlet.

“I… won’t let… you… get away!” Her magic manifests a large hammer, emblazoned with the image of a sun.

“... Really, Celestia? Using a weapon against me? You should know how that’s going to end. Like how it always does.” I stare at it, and let my memory formulate its blueprints. I dispel Kanshou and Bakuya, and hold out my hand.

“Trace On.” In my hand, an exact imitation of the weapon appears in my hand. I decide to make a dramatic exit, and turn the hammer into a Broken Phantasm, charging it with as much od as I can manage. I hold it above my head with both hands, “Celestia, as nice as this gift is, we’ll really have to put a rain check on this. Good-bye.” I slam the weapon into the floor, and it shatters, creating an explosion of fiery magic. By the time the dust settles, we’ll already be long gone.

(Twilight Sparkle, 3rd Person)

        “Princess…” As the dust settles, Twilight sees the Servants are gone. The only remnant that they were ever there is the destruction left behind. Meanwhile, Princess Celestia struggles to stand, and falls to her knees.

        “Princess!” Twilight runs to her side, and tries to hold up the diarch.

        “Twilight… I’m fine… I… I can… stand up… on my… own… Guh...:” Celestia falls to the ground, breathing heavily.

        At that moment, the doors swing open, revealing Princess Luna, “Sister!” She dashes over to the fallen alicorn, holding her close, “Sister… please, no… Please, be alright…”

        “Princess, I need you to step back.” A medic appears above Luna, slightly moving her off of her sibling’s body. The medic listens closely to her breathing, and looks over her wounds, “She’ll be fine, given enough rest. But we’d best move her quickly. Don’t want any infections.” He motions to some other medics, who lift the princess, and carry her away.

        “P-Princess Luna?” Twilight looks to the younger diarch with a pleading expression, “Will Princess Celestia be alright?”

        Luna sighs, “My sister is a fighter. She shall recover yet.”

        Twilight looks around, “Just one of them… he did all this by himself… and beat Celestia… But… one thing I don’t understand. Why’d he say that everything he did was ‘against their will’? The legends, and the stories… Thousands slaughtered, cities burned to the ground… How could they have been forced to do that?”

        Luna shakes her head, “Elements, what I am to tell you must not leave this room… Long ago, the Servants came unto this world, as the legends have told. They were summoned by wizards, nefarious beings who made dark contracts for power and wealth. The Servants do not bear those names solely as titles. They were summoned by these dark ones from long ago, and made to do the many deeds they are known for.”

        “But why? Why would anypony obey such terrible orders?”

        “They had little choice. Once, when I met Lancer in battle, he explained to me that Masters- those who made the contract- were given three Command Sigils. These Command Sigils can make a Servant do anything, any one thing. Even if it’s completely against their will, or even impossible. I have seen those Command Sigils be used to take control of even the mighty Berserker, and make him drop to his knees.”

        “But… if they only had three commands, then why did they do that much damage? Three orders can’t go that far, can they?”

        “It was not the Command Sigils themselves, but fear of what they could be MADE to do… The Servants are close to each other. They are almost family. And they knew that the Command Sigils could be used to harm each other. So, they acted out of fear for their friends. They would rather slaughter masses of innocents than harm each other. Know this, Twilight Sparkle, the Servants are willing to destroy countless lives to protect themselves. Imagine what were to happen if somepony with ill intent were to discover how to summon them again? And imagine what were to happen if they were to be threatened again?”

(Archer’s P.O.V)

“Why didn’t you finish her off there?” Caster wonders aloud, as we sit in the den. The rest of the burrow had collapsed during our slumber, and this was the only thing remaining.

I huff, “If I did, then she’d have been seen as a martyr, one who died fighting for the safety of her precious ponies. Then we would’ve never seen the end of it. However, with this, it proves our strength, and it leaves them to sit there and wonder what her limits are. That doesn’t happen when someone’s dead. When you’re dead, nobody questions your strength. But if you’re still alive, that invisible barrier, that intangible bubble of respect, doesn’t exist. They’ll realize they put their ruler on too high a pedestal. They won’t want to obey her orders. And they’ll think ‘the only reason she’s still alive is because he chose for her to be’. They’ll come to see us as so much more powerful than they can hope to be. First day out and they’re already eating out of our hands.” I calmly sip on some of the coffee we ‘acquired’, and let my allies take in the information.

Lancer tilts his head, “So… what now? We just gonna squat here until we run out of food?”

“Of course not, old sport. We’ll make the best of the time we’re given. But, for now, we must wait. They will be on high alert for us. In the meantime… we’ll just relax. Enjoy ourselves…” I hold out my hand, and let out prana into a highly complex and very specific series of intricately connected shapes. While I normally am best at making swords, I can use my magecraft to imitate other shapes. Although, to be frank, making anything other than a sword takes a lot out of me. Well, I think that for this occasion, I can make an exception.

Before me, a pair of large, mostly square blueprints manifest, and are slowly filled with prana, forming into solid shapes. In a moment, a set of speakers form. In my hand, a music player appears, and from it, a wire extends into the speakers. I swipe through the selection for a moment, before stopping at one particular tune. “Oh, by the Root, yes.” I press my finger down on the song, and the den is filled with music. And situational irony. But mostly music.

In a moment, my friends all begin dancing about, laughing and letting their worries fade away. I place the player on one of the speakers, and step over to Saber, “May I have this dance, old sport?”

“Oh, what a gentleman… Mm, sure!” She jumps forwards, and I take her into my arms, swinging her about. Let’s see… So far today, I’ve been busted out of stone prison by the illegitimate lovechild of Disney’s Genie and Frankenstein’s Monster, made out with my girl while chocolate milk rained from the sky, kicked the ass of my #1 enemy, and now I’m dancing with her to rock and roll from the eighties. Best. Day. Ever.

I put her into a spin, and she laughs. I pull her close, and then dip. I count to ‘one one-thousand’ in my head, and pull up. After observing a lot of old movies and dances, the average dip should only be ‘one one-thousand’ seconds long.

“Whoo! You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Girl, you have no idea. I grin as the next song begins, and bring her close. We dance on, even as the others stop, and head to sleep, never breaking eye contact. This is real. This will never end between us. Ever. Saber’s smile burrows into my memory, and I send her into another spin, as the sun sets and the moon rises into the night sky.

Turn Two: Golden Chalice

Fate/Stay Pony

Turn Two: Golden Chalice

(Lancer’s P.O.V)

        It’s been three days since we broke out. I look about at the small forest we’ve settled into. Archer chose a really nice place  to settle us in. I breathe through my nose, and let the cool, clean air fill my lungs. Scratch that, Archer chose the BEST place for us to stay in. I leap up to the top of a tree, and extend my hands out. “Let’s see if I still got it in me…” I close my eyes, and focus my prana, feeling out at the many leylines in the earth. “Bingo!” My prana shoots out, cascading across the woods, sliding and shooting through trees, dirt, and rocks, reaching a kilometer out, and coming to an even halt.

        “Yeah. I still got it.” I hop down, and walk back to the hole in the dirt we call ‘home’.

        “Halt!” Oh, brother. Out of the brush, several guardsponies leap out, holding spears and shields.

        “In the name of the Royal Sisters, you are under arrest!” One of the guards pokes his spear forwards somewhat, like he’s trying to threaten me with it. Wow. I almost feel sorry for what I’m gonna do to them.

        “Oh, I’m so scared! Please don’t hurt me with your pointy sticks! I surrender! I give! I’ll do anything!” I wrap my hands together, mockingly crying out for mercy. I sense the prana of one guard behind me, probably trying to hold me down in some way. I feel my arms tied up along my torso, and- wait, are they using rope? They’re using rope. On someone who is considered an ancient and high class threat. Okay, on second thought, I have no regrets.

        “Get on the ground, now!” The guy who looks like he’s in charge barks loudly at me, spittle flying from his muzzle. Somepony missed his morning cup of coffee.

        “I’m not yer mother last night!” And they’re taking exception to that.

        “Get him!” Oh, this is the fun part.

        “Let's see ya try!” The guards level their spears, before lunging out at me. I jump, and stand perfectly on one of them.

        “Hey! Get off!” The guard swings his spear around, and knocks it into other guards.

        “Alright.” I jump into the air, and generate my own lance. I land with my lance in the ground. When another guard strikes at me, I handstand upon the butt of my lance, and let his spear strike empty air. I drop my foot down on his head, letting the sound of dented metal fill the air. A pegasus guard tries to get an aerial attack in, but I swing around the lance, and knee him in the gut.

        A unicorn shoots a bolt of magic at me, which simply dissolves due to my high Magic Resistance. In response, I lunge at him, and give him a swift jab in the throat, leaving him to cough and gag. I hop back, and swing my lance, tripping the majority of the group.

        “Well, this has been fun, gentlecolts, but I do believe it’s time I wrap this sad little display up.” I draw my lance from the ground, and swing it about several times, creating a small vortex, filled with my od. The miniature wind tunnel drags the guardsmen into the air, and propels them about. They slam into trees, bushes, and the dirt with heavy *THUDS* and moan in pain.

        “If you’ve all had your fill, then I will be on my way.” I turn, and briskly march my way home, when I feel a magic blast hit me in the back of the head.

        “You’re… not… gonna get… away…” A unicorn guard, with bright blue eyes, and a multi-tone mane growls, trying to pull himself to his feet. “By my honor… as a lieutenant of Princess Celestia’s Royal Guard, I WILL take you down, or my name’s not Shining Armor!”

        “... I’m sorry, but would you care to repeat that?” I hold a hand to my ear, “I couldn’t quite hear that last bit.”

        The unicorn grunts, “You heard me… I’m going to bring you in before Princess Celestia, vampire!”

        “...” I feel my hands trembling, and my lip turns into a snarl, before turning around, and grabbing him by the throat, “DON’T YOU EVER CALL ME BY THAT! I AM NO VAMPIRE, YOU INSOLENT WHELP! I AM LANCER, SERVANT OF THE HOLY GRAIL, AND YOU ARE NOTHING BUT AN INSECT, WHO HAS NO UNDERSTANDING OF THE WORLD AROUND HIM!” I throw him into a tree, and just as he bounces off its bark, I slam the pole of my lance into his throat, “LOOK AT ME! DO I LOOK LIKE A DEAD APOSTLE TO YOU? HUH? DO I BURN IN SUNLIGHT? NO! I WALK IN THE DAY, LIKE EVERY OTHER LIVING THING! THE SUN’S LIGHT DOES NOTHING TO ME, MUCH LIKE YOURSELF!” I feel my muscles begin to contort and reform, but I force them to remain the same.

        “I could render you to PIECES right now… But I won’t.” I remove the lance, and let him drop to the ground, “That would be exactly what you want. You want us to be looked upon as monsters. I won’t give you the satisfaction. You’re not worth it.” I kick him in the side, “Run along now, dog. Return to your broken little master. Tell her that you took your regiment and almost got them killed. Tell her that Lancer spared you, even after you called me by the title which I hate most.”

        The unicorn growls at me, and I turn around, dismissing my lance. I walk over the bodies of his comrades. “Don’t think you’ll get away with this! I’ll get you!”

        “I’ll grant your death wish later.” I give him one last glare, before disappearing into the underbrush.

(Shining Armor’s P.O.V, 3rd person, 2 hours later)

        “You did WHAT?” Shining recoils as Celestia screams from her bed.

        “Your Highness, I realized that we couldn’t let those monsters remain rogue any longer than they already were. Innocent ponies could be hurt. I had to do something!” Shining steps forward, trying to keep his composure.

        “Shining Armor, I already said that the Servants were NOT to be attacked! A single one is too dangerous for anypony to fight! You should consider yourself lucky that it was Lancer you came across. Imagine what would’ve happened if it was Berserker, or Assassin!” Shining’s ears droop as the thoughts pass through his head. Memories of what the two Servants were said to be capable of flash through his mind. A chill slides through his spine, and he feels his muscles ache again.

        “And what’s more, you were still stupid enough to say the one thing that Lancer refuses to let slide! You referred to him as an undead! Frankly, it’s a miracle your regiment is still alive.” Celestia glares at the unicorn officer, levitating a cup of tea to her lips.

        “Well, now we know where they are, and-” Shining is cut off by Celestia raising her hoof. Once she swallows her tea, she glares at the captain.

        “And what? You would’ve gone in there, captured them, and walked out a hero? No, it does NOT work like that, Lieutenant Shining Armor! First off, you only encountered ONE when he was ALONE. For all we know, he could’ve merely been taking a very long walk. Knowing Lancer, he likes to do that... Secondly, the Servants cannot be taken on by anything the Royal Guard has in our inventory. No amount of guards could possibly hope to stand against the seven when united. Third, even if that WAS their home base, they now probably are moving to another place.”

        Shining growls, and stamps his hoof, “What am I supposed to do then? Tell me, Princess! What is the Royal Guard to do?”

        “NOTHING!” The entire hospital corridor goes silent, with nurses and doctors staring through the window at the two. “You do… nothing. You can’t fight them. All we can do… is hope that Archer was being truthful… when he said that he and his allies are done killing innocents. Archer is right. My sister and I… we are not nearly as strong as we once were. We’ve fallen from our power. one thousand years… While they were frozen solid. We haven’t the power to fight them.”

        Shining puffs his chest out, “We still have the Elements of Harmony. Those always work, right? They sealed Discord, they purified Princess Luna… Surely we can use those to stop the Servants?”

        Celestia sighs, “At this point… I’m not sure we’d even get the chance… The Servants are clever. They would eliminate the Elements before we could even consider using them.”

        “So… what? We just… wait at their mercy?”

        “What else can we do, Shining Armor? What else can we do?”

(Saber’s P.O.V)

        I walk into the den, and look around the room, to see Caster at the stove, casting spells, trying to ignite it. Another sigh, and I see the source: Assassin’s sitting at a table, head in her hands.

        “Hey, old sport. How ya doing?” Archer sits down by her side, and tassels her hair.

        “Bored. Nothing to do. Food’s not ready yet.” She scratches her arm, looking around.

        Archer chuckles, “Well, it’ll be boring like this for a while, and Caster’s almost done setting up the stove, see?” He points, and a large blue flame erupts from the appliance, lightly toasting Caster’s face.

        “I’m okay!”

        Archer shrugs, “Ah, she’ll be fine. But as for me… my arm’s been aching for a while now…” He holds his upper arm, and begins rubbing it, a look of faux anxiety on his face.

        She start giggling, “Please, no! Don’t do it, Archer!”

        “Too late… it’s becoming… a CLAW!” With that, he grabs her, and begins a tickle fight, her giggling filling the entire den with laughter.

        “No! No, please! HAHAHAHAHAHA!” The girl laughs and squeals, while Archer continues his assault.

        He raises his arm dramatically, “Nothing can stop the CLAW! Run, Jackie! Save yourself!”

        Assassin runs away, and hides behind me. “Do the claw to Saber! Do it to Saber!”

        Oh, hell no. I glare at Archer, who stops dead in his tracks. “Oh, no. You found the claw’s only weakness; sub-zero temperatures! WAAAGH, pttbh!” ‘The claw’ dies, and Archer rubs his arm. He drops to the ground, and begins kissing my shoes,“Thank you, Saber! You saved us all from the tyranny of the claw! Tell me, how can I EVER repay you?”

        “For starters, you can get off your knees…” I grab him by the collar, and hoist him to his feet, “And do something useful. This place is barely considered operational, our beddings aren’t set up yet, and we have no system for organizing anything.”

        Archer shakes his head, “Oh, fine.” He leans in, and gives me a kiss on the cheek, “Spoilsport.”

        Caster calls over her shoulder, “Hey, guys! The stove’s working! Whoo-hoo!”

        I grin, “That’s great. I’m kind of in the mood for something nice and warm. How about you guys?”

        Lancer steps into the den, “Hello, everybody! I’m BAAACK!”

        Archer looks to him, “Oi, Lancer! What took ya so long? Making a territory shouldn’t take that long.”

        “I took a stroll.” That’s Lancer for ya.

        I turn to him, “Well, if you’re done walking, we just got the stove working. Wanna sit down and join us?”

        “That’d be just perfect right now.” Lancer drops himself into a chair, and leans back, “Ah… This feels great.”

        Caster waves the kettle through the air, and places it on the stove, “Uhm… we only have tea, if that’s alright with you guys. Forgot to stock up on coffee.”

        Archer shrugs, “It’s alright with me.”

        Lancer does the same, “Meh. Don’t really care.”

        Assassin sits up at the table, “I’ve never tried it before. Can I have some?”

        I look at her, “Why not? I’ll have some, too, Caster.”

        Archer grins, “Alllrighty then! Since we’re all in agreements, I’ll just get us the cups.”

        Lancer takes a moment, “Ah, shit. We forgot cups. Uhm, Archer, what’re you doing?

        “I am the leaf of my tea.” Oh, no.

“Catechins are my body, and theanine is my blood.” You have got to be kidding me…

“I have prepared over a thousand cups.” I’m gonna get him for this.

“Unknown to spills, nor known to bad taste.” … On second thought, this is kinda funny. Stupid, but funny.

“Have withstood great pain to pour many cups.” REALLY stupid.

“Yet this mouth will never drink anything.” Yeah, forget it. It’s not funny.

“So, as I pray; Unlimited Tea Works!” On the table, several teacups appear, complete with a small burst of fire and prana.

“That was kinda funny!” Caster giggles as she walks over to the table, and pours into each cup.

“Well, I don’t mean to brag…” Archer leans back, a smug grin on his face. He looks to me, “What?”

“... You’re sleeping on the floor tonight.”

Archer looks at Assassin, “Hey, Jackie?”

Assassin takes a smallsip from her cup, “Yeah, Archer?”

“Remember that song I taught you? About people who don’t like fun?”

“Oh, yeah!”

“Mind singing it with me right now?”

“Every party needs a pooper, that’s why they invited you!” They both point at me, with Assassin giggling.

“You little-” “Party pooper! Party pooper!” They keep singing, and now they dance around the room, swinging their teacups and laughing.

“I forgot. I’m dealing with an immature little girl… and Jackie.” A chorus of ‘ooh’s follows.

“Ouch. Going for the low blows, now? C’mon, old sport. Don’t be like that.” He drapes an arm over my shoulder, and whispers into my ear, “We can still have fun, right?” A shudder rolls down my spine. I hate it when he does this.

“... You’re a real asshole, you realize that, right?”

He steps back, “Doesn’t mean ya don’t like it.” He hands me one of his teacups, grinning wildly.

“Fine.” I take the cup into my hand, and drink. “Hm… not bad. Actually… this tea’s pretty good. Caster, do you know what kind it is?”

The fox smiles, “I think it’s called-” She’s interrupted quickly enough by a golden glow tearing through the den. The light grows and grows, until it completely blinds us all.

“ARCHER!”

“WHAT’S GOING ON? HEY!”

“HELP! ARCHER! SABER! MOMMA! HELP ME!”

“What is this… this power?”

“GRRRAAAAAAOOOOOGGGGHHHH!” I hear the thrashing of Berserker. He’s probably trying to attack the source of the light. The sound of a shockwave echoes through the den, and I hear Berserker collide with the wall.

“GYAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!”

“BERSERKER!” I’m still blind. I can’t see. Why’s it so bright? I can’t see… anything…

Wait… That’s not what it is… This light… No way… It can’t be… I’m seeing…

The Holy Grail.

(Caster’s P.O.V.)

What’s going on? What’s with all this prana I’m sensing? It’s so… vast.

My vision’s clearing… I can see… a cup? A chalice? That’s what it looks like…

Come, children.

Who said that?

I did, of course.

Well… who’re you?

Come forth, and I shall show you. And your friends, while we’re at it. I would like to get this over with as soon as possible.

“CASTER! Don’t go near it!” I see Saber holding Aestus Estus, glaring at me. “Don’t.”

Be silent, child. If you’ll merely come closer… I can explain.

What? Explain what? “Saber… Archer… What IS that thing?” Rider, armed with her daggers, glares at the chalice.

My, my. This is what the Heroic Spirits of legend are like? Scared little worms? Oh, I forgot. You’re not ‘really’ them, are you?

Archer lowers Kanshou and Bakuya, “How do you know?”

Child… Do not toy with me. I know all. All that is, all that has been, and all that will be. Such is the nature of the Holy Grail.

No way. “Y-you’re the Holy Grail?”

Yes… I am indeed the Holy Grail, of which an infinity of wars have been waged over. I am that which has summoned all of your… ‘predecessors’ to battle, for my wish-granting power.

In my imagination, my mind’s eye I see a hand-like… thing pointing at my friends. First, Archer. He stands astounded, like he can see it in his mind’s eye, too.

EMIYA, the Wrought Iron Hero, King of Swords, Blacksmith Mage, he who was betrayed by the very humankind he swore to protect, yet still wishes to protect them. A warrior who has mastered Projection and Reinforcement magecraft. You wield many Noble Phantasms of warriors old, and new. From Hrunting, to Caladbolg, to Caliburn, to even Mjolnir. You wield these, along with many others, in your Reality Marble, Unlimited Blade Works.

The hand changes direction, to Saber.

Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus; the Empress of Rome, and Whore of Babylon, she who was betrayed by everyone, despite her relentless love of all her subjects. You wield no skills of your own, but can acquire new ones through sheer audacity and rejection of basic fact. You wield the sword Aestus Estus, and your Noble Phantasm is Aestus Domus Aurea, where you, in the very theater you designed, can now bend the rules to your own will.

The ‘hand’ aims its accusing… appendage now at Lancer, who glares at the mental image.

Vlad III, the Lord Impaler, Dracula. King of Wallachia, he who held off the Ottoman Empire at the cost of countless innocent civilians impaled and left to the flies. This has given you the Noble Phantasm Kazikili Bey, letting you impale all within your territory. Your legend, corrupted by the tales of the Dead Apostles, has now given birth to your second Noble Phantasm, Legend of Dracula.

Now it aims at Rider.

Medusa, the Bewitching Black Serpent, she who was cursed by Poseidon’s wife and Athena in their jealousy. You wield the Noble Phantasm Bellerophon, allowing you to tame the already divine beast, the Pegasus, which sprang from your neck, and enhance its heavenly capabilities.

The appendage aims itself to Assassin, who hides behind Saber.

Jack the Ripper, Legendary Serial Killer, she who carved her way through the whores of London to find comfort in the womb once more. Your Noble Phantasm’s name is Maria the Ripper, the very daggers used to tear unto your victims to find solace.

Now it aims at Berserker, who growls in response.

Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake, he who served King Arthur- or, Arturia, rather- and began an affair with his Queen, only to rebel, hoping to be slain and relieve himself of shame. You wield the Noble Phantasms; For Someone’s Glory, allowing you to obscure your true identity, and parameters, to all; Knight of Honor, allowing you to wield any weapon as if it were a part of your own body; and finally Arondight, the blade you wielded in life against all of your King’s foes… and your king.

Now, the hand points to… me.

Don’t think I forgot about you. You are Tamamo no Mae, incarnation of the Sun Goddess Amaterasu. Your fascination with humanity made you be destroyed by them. Your Noble Phantasm is the Eightfold Blessing of Amaterasu, one of the sacred possessions of your true goddess form. While you are unable to use its full power, you can activate it temporarily to grant yourself unlimited prana during its activation period.

Archer steps forwards, levelling his blade at the chalice, “Alright. You know who we are. We know who you are… kinda. But we don’t know what you want.”

Impatient whelp. I am here specifically for you, Heroic Spirits. I am here to grant you information, and a… ‘boon’, of sorts.

“What kind of boon? And why should we trust you? You’re a talking cup that’s inside our heads.” Saber aims Aestus Estus, and Assassin draws her daggers.

Simply come closer, and I shall share all information with you. Come now, if I wanted to harm you, I’d have gone to someone else and had them wish you out of existence, wouldn’t I? And yet… here you are. Which means my intentions do not involve bringing you harm. So please, come. Let me educate you on what the universe truly plans for you.

I feel my feet dragging themselves forwards. “Caster, NO! Don’t do it! You have no idea what it could do to you!”

I freeze.

I am not going to bring any of you any harm. Trust me.

I walk again.

“Caster!”

“WRRRAAAAGH!” Berserker gets between me and the Grail. I toss him aside.

Hmph. Remember, you’re doing this of your own free will.

My hand reaches out. I feel the cold metal, and my fingers dance along the edge.

Come. Let me show you the truth of the universe.

I touch it.

“CASTER!”

Good. Very very good.

My mind goes blank. But my eyes, I still see. I see as the Grail shoots light through me, into my friends.

What’ve I done?

Nothing, little girl. I just used your power to reach out to them. They were being… uncooperative, and I am not one for wasting time.

I didn’t want to hurt them!

Of course you didn’t. That’s why I didn’t. I only restrained them. Now, if you lot are all done struggling…

LET US BEGIN.

Before me, I see infinity. Worlds being born and dying in the blink of an eye. A butterfly, caught in time.

The truth of the universe is simple. It lies within possibilities, children. Every possible outcome exists. Let’s say… you gamble at Vegas.

A roulette table, the size of Mars, manifests, with chips the size of the Himalayas.

You bet on black. You lose. You have to pay up.

Coins and dollars jingle in air.

But… let’s say you bet on red, and you win.

Bills fly about, before bursting into flame.

Now let’s say you decide to say, as you would put it, ‘fuck it’, and burn the whole casino down.

Screaming fills the air. Blood and bodies are tossed in the air.

Everything that could happen, WILL happen. Every speculation that is, and isn’t made, is accounted for. Every variable: guaranteed to be presented in every spectrum. Now, between all of these possibilities, who’s there to make sure it all works out nicely?

Dimensions shatter, and collide. They demolish each other. Galaxies burn. Death lives. Lines become curves.

The System Administrators, that’s who. They tend to the universal balance, to insure all that emerge from the Root of the World are properly in place. They sometimes destroy worlds, sometimes rewrite them, sometimes create them. And then there’s the Merchant.

The hooded man. The silver eye.

The one whose behavior has been completely unknown to all. His goals are a mystery, even to me, the Holy Grail. You are not the only ones he has altered like this.

Lights travel. Earth. Equestria. Burning. Freezing. Death. Life. Gods. Kings. Warriors. Peasants.

Many have been sent out across the stars thusly. You are but a small, small group.

A warrior with the name of the King of Heroes. A man who UNDERSTANDS all of reality. A woman who controls gravity, seeking to atone for her sins. A fallen angel who wields the power of death. A boy with ten alternate minds within his body. A knight who worships the sun.

They have learned to contact each other. They offer each other guidance, assistance, and companionship. They cut down each others’ enemies, and defend each others’ allies. These beings, known to each other as the Displaced, are why I am here. You are Displaced like them. Thus, you need a method to contact them. That is why I am here.

The Grail. Magic circle. Seven within. Command Seals. Contracts.

Whether or not you actually respond to them is none of my concern. But, with you as Heroic Spirits, it is my duty to insure your summoning is done proper. Travelling through the Void Eternal is no easy task, mind you. It’s easy to get lost… and even if you know the path there may be… unexpected visitors, along the path.

Fangs without a mouth. Eyes without a skull. All bone, yet not alive. Cold, yet not dead.

I shall send you where you must go. I shall grant you any knowledge relating to each world, and thus allow you to work best there and minimize culture shock. If the contracting Displaced needs a politician dead, you kill them. If they need a city defended, you defend it. If you perform in a manner that entertains me enough, I shall see fit to reward you as time passes. I care not what you do, as long as it is interesting enough to pass the time.

Time. Clocks. Gears. Hours. Minutes. Days.

I hope you make this an intriguing show for me. Remember, I will alwaysbe watching. Now, before I send you off, know that Iwill be making and receiving calls, as well as directing ‘traffic’. Not you. And I’ll be making our first, very, verysoon.

(Rider’s P.O.V.)

My head quits shaking, and I sit up. Around me, I hear the sound of my friends, standing up and groaning.

“Woah… You guys got all that, right?”

“I feel like my brain’s gonna explode. So many thoughts… Big universe… Merchant…”

“Many… places… see… all...” Berserker growls out, struggling to rise to his feet. That’s right. He liked to travel. Can’t really tell now, with his Mad Enhancement, but when we’re out of a  fight, it weakens a little, and he can Hulk speak his way through the day.

“I know. But for now… we should remain prepared for whatever might come around.” I hear Lancer and Archer rise to their feet.

Lancer shifts his boots along the ground, “Can you believe it? Every possibility… Like… does that mean that you technically didn’t pass the bar exam, Rider?”

“Shut up. Don’t wanna think now. Wanna sleep-”

That’s nice. But you probably won’t be able to sleep through this.

Wait, what?

TO ALL WHO HEAR MY MESSAGE. I AM THE HOLY GRAIL OF LEGEND, THE SACRED RELIC THAT MEN HAVE WAGED WARS FOR. THE ARTIFACTS I SEND OUT NOW, AND WHICH YOU MAY HOLD IN YOUR HANDS, IS A MERE IMITATION OF ME. THROUGH THESE PALTRY IMITATIONS, YOU MAY ESTABLISH A CONTRACT, AND I SHALL SEND YOU AN APPROPRIATE HEROIC SPIRIT TO SERVE YOUR NEEDS. I SHALL PROVIDE YOU WITH THE INCANTATIONS AND NECESSARY KNOWLEDGE OF THE SUMMONING RITUALS NEEDED FOR MY CONTRACT. THE SERVANT WHICH SHALL APPEAR BEFORE YOU SHALL WIELD IMMENSE POWER. RENDING MOUNTAINS TO DUST, RESHAPING ENTIRE VALLEYS, ALTERING THE VERY LAWS OF NATURE, ARE ALL CHILD’S PLAY TO MY HEROIC SPIRITS. SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO COMMAND THEM, YOU SHALL BE GRANTED COMMAND OVER A POWER UNLIKE ANYTHING ELSE. BE WARNED: THEY MAY BE SERVANTS, YET THEY ARE NOT SLAVES. HANDLE THEM WITH CAUTION, LEST THEY PROVE TO BE YOUR UNDOING.

I feel a burst of prana, and the light from the Holy Grail pierces even my Breaker Gorgon, casting itself into the sky. The sheer power it emits is ridiculous.

“Well, now we’re demigod level mercenaries. That happened. Who wants to play the waiting game until we get our first caller?” Saber asks, with only the faintest hint of shock in her voice.

Another voice from outside echoes into the den, “Hey! We know you’re here somewhere! C’mon out right now, and we’ll take you to the Princesses with as little hassle as possible!”

Fuck you, Grail. Fuck you.

Oh, how your words wound me so.

(Lancer’s P.O.V.)

As I stare at the freshly formed hole in our ceiling, courtesy of the Grail, a voice bounces through it. “Hey! We know you’re here somewhere! C’mon out right now, and we’ll take you to the Princesses with as little hassle as possible!”

I leap out of the new opening, and leap along the treeline for a while. I see my victims, leap into the air, and slam my lance into the earth. I raise my head slowly, trying to gain as many drama points as possible. I see those Mane 6 Rider kept telling us about back in the day. “Well, well, well. Look what we have here. The Helements of Armory-”

“Elements of Harmony.” Purple Smart shoots at me swiftly, a slight look of irritation on her face.

“-Thinking that they can just waltz in and hit us hard just because of a little light show.” I swing my lance around, and hold it at my back, “Need I inform you that one of you,” I point to the airborne squeaky toy, “Is still recovering from broken ribs- by the way, even with magical treatments, I’m still impressed you’re able to walk, let alone fly after how hard Archer hit you. What was I saying again? Oh, yeah. One has broken ribs. Another,” I point to Marshmallow, “Honestly can’t even take a hit from a child, let alone a stone-shattering strike from a Heroic Spirit. Another one,” I aim my lance at Butter Coward, “Is scared of her own shadow. And this is what Celestia throws at us. Not sure if I should be impressed or insulted.”

“HEY!” Of all the six, I was NOT expecting Buck Norris to get angry at that. “You just watch yet tongue, buster! Because our friendship is more than strong enough to put you and yer freaky friends back where ya belong!”

“Let her go!”

“Why should I?” This actually surprises them. “Really, why should I? If I do, you can use your magical necklaces to put me and my comrades in stone, again, for some… less than pleasant things, that we literally had no choice in doing. It was either do it of our own accord, or have them use the Command Seals on us, and then we’d have made sure to make every pony we saw… suffer.” With that, I draw my lance’s blade along Cotton Candy’s throat, opening a small wound, letting blood drip down the blade, onto the handle.

“And, if I were to let her go, how threatening would that make us look? ‘Oh, he just let the pony go because we asked him to. Those Servants can’t be that tough! Let’s get ‘im!’ You know what that would’ve resulted in? A bunch of pointless bloodshed. A bunch of overly confident ponies, minotaurs, griffins, and Root knows what else throwing themselves at a meat grinder. So… why should I let her go, again?”

“Because I’m telling you to.” Archer leans against a tree, holding a scimitar of some sort, along with a rapier.

“Fine.” I remove the lance, and toss Cotton Candy into her friends.

Archer steps forwards, “It was foolish of you to come here. I’m guessing you think your Elements can stop us?”

Purple Smart glares, “Yeah! We’ll stop you right here and now!”

“You realize the time it takes to actually charge the Elements to firing stage, right?”

I never saw any group of people go from ‘yeah!’ to ‘Oh, crap’. so fast.

“Even after a thousand years in stone, I never forgot the time it took Celestia and Luna to prepare the first shot, the one that started our downfall. One minute. One. Whole. Minute. To charge the Elements enough so that they can fire a full shot to seal someone. Now, you’re a smart pony. You know how fast we are.” With this, he moves in, the rapier aimed right at Purple Smart’s eye, “Imagine what we can do in that one minute.”

He lowers his blades, “You’ll be dead before you can even start. That kind of attack needs cover, cover you literally do not have. No guard is capable of defending you from any of us. Lancer? He’s skilled enough to maneuver his way around any defense. Saber? Can cut it down. Berserker? Barrel through a brick wall and wouldn’t even notice. Caster? Could turn an entire regiment into fireworks. Assassin? She can disappear from battle instantly. It’s her purpose, after all. Rider? Her Pegasus is a Divine Beast, that damn thing can move like a bolt of lightning, and has armor like solid iron. And as for me? Well…” He chuckles lightly. “My maximum firing range with my bow is four kilometers. And I can launch over a dozen arrows in one second. One.”

He steps forwards, twirling the blades, “Realize, for a moment, how absolutely outclassed you are. The chances of you honestly being able to stop us are second to none. Run away now, while we’re still feeling merciful. We just want to be left alone, and you are intruding on that. I don’t want to send six girls back in body bags. Your families shouldn’t be told that you died because you were overconfident. Just face reality, old sport.” He turns, and his shroud flutters in the wind, “Your friendship couldn’t stop us. Not now, not ever.”

Purple Smart stomps. “No.”

Archer halts, “No?”

“I said no. I don’t care if you’re stronger than us. Nightmare Moon is stronger than us. Discord is infinitely so. We still beat them. And we can sure as hay beat you. Let’s get ‘em, girls!”

The chorus of ‘yeah’ and ‘yee-haw’ lead to the ponies leaping out and attacking us.

Archer scoffs, dodging an easily broadcasted blow from Marshmallow,“I don’t want to give them the chance. Lancer.”

“Hmm?”

He disappears, and reappears standing on a tree. “Break them.”

“You got it, boss.” I look to the six, “Well, looks like I might have something more interesting than a couple of dunderhead guards to play with.”

The six begin rotating around me, like a pack of sharks. They’re trying to cut off my means of escape. And they’re doing poorly.

“Well? Ya gonna sit there? Or are we gonna fight?” That causes Buck Norris to lunge, and try to land a kick. Her leg muscles are well-developed, indeed. But nowhere near strong enough to harm even Assassin. I swing, and use the blunt end of my lance to toss her into the air. As she flies up, Butter Coward flies at me. I look at her questioningly, which makes her back away, whispering apologies.

“Gotcha!” I feel a magical aura surround me, coming from Marshmallow. The aura dissipates immediately. “What?”

“Magic Resistance. Standard skill of the Lancer class. Means weak magic won’t do anything to me. However, I don’t think you are very resistant to… anything.” I now tower over her, my lance poised high for a finishing blow. She faints. Meh, saves me the effort of cleaning it later.

“Get away from Rares, ya varmint!” To my astonishment, a rope lasso comes up, and wraps around my upper torso, restraining my arms like something from an 80s cartoon.

I sigh, “This is just getting sad.” I jump in the air, and spin rapidly, causing Buck Norris to lose hold of the rope. As I come down, I drop my foot on her neck, shattering the necklace’s brace, sending the broken gemstone flying away.

I shout loudly, “Assassin!” The Element disappears, only to reappear in the hands of little Jackie.

I grin, stepping back, and spinning my lance, “Boss, you want us to get another? Or is this good?”

Archer stares at Assassin, “Good enough.” He dismisses the blades he held, and steps forwards, taking and holding the Element in the air, “Look closely, Elements of Harmony, and any other servants of the Royal Sisters! By claiming only one of their number, we have rendered the entire group useless. Such is the flawed nature of your ‘friendship’. The reason your species shall never hope to reach our level of power? I shall tell you now, plain and simple: you depend on each other too much. Your herd ideology has made you weak. Each of you have only a single skill set, and because of that, you have no individuality. You’re little more than puzzle pieces. You do not adapt or develop new abilities. You stay to how you are. If you cannot solve a problem, you go to ask another for help. We think of a different way. We think of, instead of using all of the applications of our own skill sets, developing new ones. And that is why you have lost today. YOu have met a foe that adapts to you. Return to Celestia. Tell her I said… the Grail has sent us back into service. And then, if you know what’s good for you… don’t return to this place. This is your only warning. Come at us again, and I will not have Lancer merely ‘break you’. Next time, Berserker will destroy you.”

Archer turns around, and leaps through the woods. Assassin looks to the ponies, “Listen to him.” She disappears, as well.

I tilt my head, “You heard ‘em. Don’t fuck with us anymore. Good day to you.” I bow, and with that, I take my leave.

(Assassin’s P.O.V.)

“What the hell was that all about, Archer?” Lancer screams at Archer. He’s angry.

“I needed to make sure they didn’t catch us by surprise with the Elements. So, I had you take one. You know that.” Archer places the Element on the table, and sits down, projecting a cup of tea.

“I know all about that, you idiot! I’m asking about that thing you did with that speech at the end! That was TOTALLY uncalled for!”

“Au contraire. It was COMPLETELY called for.” Archer sips his tea, now with a smug grin. “Establishing dominance is how all predators mark their territory. If others stray into their borders, then they have to discipline them. This is just that. Eventually, they’ll learn to leave us alone. Now that we have a piece of their ‘ultimate weapon’, they won’t be able to go all out with a Sun Strike or anything.”

Everyone shudders. That was a big light show. Almost like the Grail. But it burned.

“How’s THAT work?”

“They don’t want to risk destroying their precious ‘Element of Honesty’. They want to reclaim it. Meanwhile, we will actually be moving it to a completely separate location of which we will make absolutely no mention, maps, notes, or passing remarks regarding. And in this location, it shall be sealed in such a way as to insure it cannot be entered by any species. Like, mayhaps, a vault within the middle of that one fire swamp Rider mentioned in one episode. Give it the right paint job, hide it behind one of those plumes of flame, and voila!” Archer tosses his tea cup in the sky, and it vanishes.

“The chances of getting that Element back? Zero.” Archer stands up, and stretches, “That’s also how much energy I have left. If’n you don’t mind, Lancer old buddy, old pal, I’m gonna hit the hay.” He walks by me, “You should probably go to sleep too, old sport. Don’t wanna be all grumpy tomorrow! We’re gonna have a lot of fun then!”

He looks to me cheerfully, and I smile. “We are?”

“Yeah! So you better be in bed so I can tuck ya in!”

“Oh, boy!” I run to my room and jump into bed, waiting for Archer.

‘He appears at the doorway, and walks to my bed, “Okay, g’night, Jackie.” He slides the covers up, patting me on the head.

“Good night... Papa.”

(Archer’s P.O.V.)

“Good night… Papa.” I look back at her twice, and rub at my temples, trying to process what I just heard.

Alright… I’ll be papa. I lean in, and kiss her forehead.

As I exit her room, I see Saber leaning against the wall. “So, is that what this is becoming?”

“Looks it… mama.”

A punch to my arm. “Just get to bed already. I’ll be waiting.”

Oh, my.

Turn Three: Iron Rook

Fate/Stay Pony

Turn Three: Iron Rook

(Archer’s P.O.V)

        Y’know, I can picture a couple of pony detectives sitting over what’s left of me right about now. One, a grizzled, angry, caffeine-deprived veteran, looks at his watch, and says to the other, “What’ve we got here?”

        The new guy, a professional at forensics, looks to my remains, “Fractured hip bones, severe internal trauma, and massive bruising.”

        The vet looks up from his watch, raising an eyebrow, “So… Diagnosis?”

        “Death by snu-snu.”

        … Okay, it was funny to me, alright?

        Alright, for those who don’t understand what circle of hell I just went through, or are stupid enough to consider dancing the vertical tango with my Saber, I feel the need to inform you she has the endurance of an Ussuri brown bear, and the power of a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick. And the drive of a rabbit, while we’re at it.

        “Archer?” Oh, god. She’s poking my cheek. Please don’t tell me she wants a round four. “Archer?” Stop with the poking, can’t you tell I’m in pain? “Archer? Aaarcher?”

        “Nng… Wh-what?” I barely murmur, while my eyelids flutter open. I try to shift to a more comfortable position, but my pelvis glows in pain. “Ow…”

        “Are you alright?”

        “Just… Just peachy, Nero.” I smile through the sheer agony, and put my hand to her cheek, “Just… peachy…”

Good. You have an assignment.

        Wait, what?

Go get ‘em, tiger!

        Oh, COME O-

        -ON! Okay, I see how it is… Might as well go with the flow. Let’s see… I’m on the western continent of- Westeros? Holy shit, am I on Game of Thrones? FUCK YEAH! Okay, let’s see… political history… know this, and some of that… Wait, I’m only in Season One? HELL YEAH! There are SO many things I can fuck up right now! Let’s see… Episode 3? DOUBLE HELL YEAH! Okay, now I’m taking in languages… Oh, sweet! I can speak Drothaki, too? Oh, by Heaven’s Feel, this is too good to be true!

Control yourself, Archer. You still have a duty to accomplish. Your summoners await.

        Summoners? Okay, might as well see what we got here...

        My eyes pry open, and I see a magic circle in the ground, glowing, and formed of cow blood. The glow fades, and with it, the Grail’s summoning power goes with it. I raise my eyes up further, and see… Holy shit. These guys lift.

        “Uh… This supposed to happen?”

        It’s Kenshiro. Motherfucking Kenshiro. And… is that GUTS? FROM BERSERK? What sacred act did I do to deserve getting summoned by Kenshiro and Guts into Game of Thrones? It’s taking all of my effort to not fangasm right about now. Okay, time for me to serious the fuck up.

        “Are you my master?” My voice startles them.

        “Uh… what?”

        “I said…” I rise to my feet, “Are. You. My. Master?”

        Kenshiro shrugs, “If you mean we’re the ones who summoned you, then… yeah, I guess.”

        I shake my head, “No, no, no. Only one of you summoned me. Who was it that did so?”

        Guts instantly points to the martial artist, “He did it. He did everything. The cow blood, the big old speech, and all that jazz.”

        Hm. Interesting. I send a pulse of prana through my magic circuits. Damn, these guys know butt-fuck NOTHING about magic. They have no skill of their own, which means I’m gonna have shit parameters. Let’s see… Strength, C. Endurance, C. Agility, C. Mana, B. Luck… D. Damnit. Everything’s average. Then again, considering what exists in the GoT world, I have little to worry about.

        “Well… I guess that makes you… my Master.” I drop to one knee, “And with that, the contract is complete. I await your orders…” I raise my head slightly, “My Master.” I see a red glow appear on the back of Kenshiro’s hand. The glow fades, and there sits Rin Tohsaka’s Command Sigils.

I’m not feeling particularly creative regarding Command Sigils, so I’m giving the baboons the Command Sigil used by ‘your’ previous Master.

        Meh. I don’t care myself. As long as I’m not forced to kill any babies, I think I’ll be just fine.

Good to know that you’re so pragmatic. I leave you to your duties. I expect an entertaining performance.

        Kenshiro steps back, “Okay… what the hell’s going on? Why do I have a tattoo? I didn’t ask for any of this!”

        I raise my hand, “Remain calm, Master. That’s merely your Command Sigils.”

        “WHAT? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON ANY MORE!”

        Guts picks up- HOLY JESUS THAT’S DRAGONSLAYER? BY THE ROOT, THAT’S ENORMOUS!

        … I need to trace it!

        Guts brings the blade down on me. “Trace, On. Dragonslayer.” Iron clashes with iron, and Guts’ blade is stopped by an exact copy.

        “What?”

        “Master, I would recommend sitting down. It’s gonna take a while to explain everything.”

        “So, that’s it, huh? Seems… understandable. Weird, and extremely freaky, but not impossible.” Kenshiro murmurs, stroking the Command Sigils on his hand.

        “Indeed, Master. I’m to obey you as a Heroic Spirit of the Holy Grail. Your will is my command, and if that’s not adequate enough, a Command Sigil shall easily finish that problem. Though, I would recommend not using it on something trivial like… say… keeping me out of your room. That is a flat-out waste.” I swear, why Shirou did that I will never understand.

        “Got it.”

        Guts raises his hand, “Okay, even IF I’m to believe all this crap, which I’m not gonna anytime soon, by the way, HOW did you make a second Dragonslayer? And where were you hiding it? In your ass or something?”

        I hold up my hand, “Trace, On.” I form an Arabian sword that I recall from a natural history museum, “My abilities involve seeing any weapon, understanding its structure and components, and using my magic to replicate it. My specialty is in making swords. Yours, while large, rough, and very, very heavy, is still just a sword.”

        Guts shakes his head, “No way, Jose! You can’t just make something like that from thin air! It doesn’t make sense!”

        “Master... You’re Kenshiro, are you not?”

        “Uh… my real name’s Dillon, but I go by that in front of the noblemen. Sounds cooler, to be honest.”

        “And, if my memory recalls, Kenshiro is able to make people explode just by poking them rapidly and making Bruce Lee kung-fu noises. Am I right?”

        “Very much so.”

        I look back to Guts, “And you’re Guts, who has a demon dog assaulting his sanity, an artificial left arm with a built-in cannon, and wields a sword as big as Marilyn Monroe, and four times as heavy. I’m sorry, but could you repeat your argument?”

        Guts huffs, “Shaddap!”

        Kenshiro holds up his hand, “Let’s give him some credit, alright? C’mon, with what happened to us, it can’t be THAT illogical to assume it didn’t happen to other people, right?”

        I pull a double-take, “Wait, you met the Merchant, too?”

        Kenshiro nods, “That what everyone calls him? Well, yeah, I suppose. He sold my brother here a glove that looked like Guts’ artificial hand. Next thing we know, we’re in Game of Thrones. We’ve sworn fealty to Lord Eddard Stark, of Winterfell.” Kenshiro. And Guts. Serving under Ned Stark? Urge to fangasm, rising. “The problem is, we never saw Game of Thrones, and… never read the books either, while I’m at it…” Oh, crap. That means they have no idea what they’re getting into.

        “Master… you are SO damn lucky it’s me who you summoned.” I project a copy of a crown into my hand, “My Saber and I love watching that series. Right now, you guys are only in the first season, VERY early in, too.”

        “That probably means all the really bad stuff hasn't happened yet..”

        “Oh, yeah. You have… no idea how bad things are gonna get around here, man!” I toss the crown into the air, where it vanishes. “Utter anarchy is going to fall down around us. Let’s just say… people are gonna die.”

        Kenshiro shakes his head, “Oh, we know that. Everyone knows about George Martin’s… literature habits.”

        “Good. However, since we’re at the… third episode, I believe, I need to inform you that around this point, the Targaryen girl Daenerys is now with child. It’ll be a boy. This knowledge will spur King Robert into trying to put the child down. You need to tell Stark about this, and have him make sure that this information is manipulated into being shown in a positive light. If things are let out as they should be, then Robert will have a would-be assassin try to poison her. This will, in turn, cause the Khal to attempt to go across the Narrow Sea and wage war for the sake of his wife and soon-to-be son.”

        “Ouch. Never thought I’d say this, but good thing we’ve got a fanboy on our side.”

        “And this is all in season one.”

        Cue Guts’ jaw-drop. “... Holy shit.”

        “And at the same time, the men of the Night’s Watch are gonna ask for more soldiers. Spoiler alert: White Walkers are very, very real. And they will come to kick your asses unless Tyrion convinces his siblings to help spare soldiers.”

        “Seriously?”

        “Well, yes and no. They come no matter what, and they will probably do so. But having extra troops as the vanguard kinda helps. And besides, you two are here, so that’ll help. A lot.”

        “Okay. Good point.”

        “And another thing. I’m gonna give a guess and say that at this point, you think that Tyrion was responsible for the would-be assassination of Bran? WRONG-O, old sport! In reality, it was Jamie, his brother. Why? Because he and Cersei, the QUEEN, and his SISTER, are fuck buddies.”

        Cue the second wave of jaw-drops. “What.”

        “The.”

        “FUCK!?” Kenshiro and Guts are mad. Better get their attention off of that.

        “Yeah. They did it. But that’s not what you should concern yourself with. You need to make sure Tyrion doesn’t come to any harm. Catelyn’s gonna try to arrest him, and bring him to her sister, who’s more or less… a really crazy bitch right about now.”

        Kenshiro rubs his head, “Heard about her. She’s in the Vale, right? Can’t be that bad, can she?”

        “She still breast-feeds her four-year old. In public.”

        There’s the third wave.

        “Tyrion narrowly survives, but I’d rather he not go through it in the first place. He needs to focus on getting to his brother and moving soldiers up to the north. Every blade up there is one less in the coming battles, and one less corpse.”

        “You’re good at this.”

        I shrug, “Comes with being the Servant of multiple madmen and evil sorcerers. You realize how to plan properly for everything.”

        “Okay. What next?”

        “That… That should actually just about eliminate pretty much all of the problems of the story. What happens after, I can’t say. But seriously, do as I’ve recommended, Master, and this whole thing should mostly solve itself. You needn’t send a raven. Catelyn will be arriving in the city shortly.”

        Guts raises a hand, “What about evidence?”

        I stop. “Beg pardon?”

        “Evidence. These are all some pretty big claims we’re making here. What’re we gonna say to back it all up?”

        I snap my fingers, “Easy. Hair color.”

        The two pull a double-take, “What?”

        “I said hair color. Have your Lord look through the tome of ancient families. You’ll find that Joffrey, and his kin, are all gold of hair. But his ‘father’ isn’t. Three guesses who’s the real dad, and the first two don’t count.”

        Guts snarls, “How did that fatass not notice anything?”

        “Drunk, honestly. Like, hammered off his ass drunk. But that being said, once all this is revealed, we’ll be able to move onto bigger problems.”

        “Such as?”

        “It’s even more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined.” I’m drooling. What is before me is paradise, plain and simple. Truly refined joy.

        “You wanted to get into the throne room and see the throne?” The Iron Throne of King’s Landing, forged by Targaryen and his dragons. Built in their fire. And it’s made of swords… Which means I can trace it! It’s official. I’m having the biggest fangasm right about now. I have the Iron Throne in my inventory.

        “Hell yeah, man!” I look to the two, smiling my ass off.

        Kenshiro and Guts chuckle. The Black Swordsman shakes his head, “Good to know you’re enjoying yourself. Now, I think we need to focus on-”

        “Who is this? What’s he doing in the throne room?” Oh. Ma. Root. It’s Ned Stark. He looks so fucking awesome!

        Guts turns to Stark and bows, “M’lord, this is a… friend… of ours. He’s the one I called you here for. He has some… vital information that needs to be heard.”

        Lord Stark looks right at me, “What would that be?”

        Now I serious up, “Follow me. This information had best remain behind closed doors.”

        “So, that’s it, then.” We’re in Ned’s office, and I’m leaning against the wall, in a regular James Dean Rebel Without A Cause pose.

        Stark shakes his head, “This… This is absolute madness. You expect me to believe all of this? That Prince Joffrey isn’t King Robert’s son?”

        I shake my head positively, “Indeed. Think about it…” I place my hands on his desk a la Phoenix Wright, “House Baratheon has always had black hair. It’s a dominant gene for them. Robert, his father, his father before him, and every other father before that, has had black hair. And I know you’ve scoped out a few of his bastards. You know that all of them have black hair, too.” His face lights up in recognition. “So… Tell me, Lord Stark…” I lean in closer, “How is it that a child of Robert can have golden hair?”

        Guts pushes me off, “As much as I’m afraid to say it, sir, he does have a point. His logic is sound. What of that book? That has a record of all the family lineages? It should tell us something, shouldn’t it?”

        Stark looks between us, “Are you serious?”

        I look him dead in the eyes, “Eddard Stark, you are a wise man. Mayhaps not a smart one, but a wise one. Look at me. In my eyes. Am I joking? Is this a jest?”

        Stark groans, “What… What am I supposed to do with this information?”

        I raise my hand in the ‘Tohsaka lecture position #1’, and reply. “Simple. So you can understand better why someone tried to murder your son.”

        His head snaps at me, “What?”

        “Well, is it not obvious? A long golden hair was found in the tower where your boy was launched from. Guess who has long golden hair? The queen. Guess who has a big secret? The queen. Clearly, the boy saw her doing something in the tower.”

        Stark slams his hand on the desk, “That’s enough! Your insane rabble has gone on long enough! I refuse to-” That’s when I raise Needle at his throat.

        “Lord Stark. I am not your average warrior.” I spin Needle around, and hand it to him. “Look that blade over.”

        Stark takes a gander at it, “This… This is Needle! Why do you have this-”

        I raise Kanshou and Bakuya, “I don’t have it. I Traced it. I’m a magus, Lord Stark. I specialize in swords. Any blade I see, even for an instant, I can imitate. That is not your daughter’s Needle. It is my copy of it. Perfectly recreated.” He gazes at it, and how the light reflects it. “Any weapon I create, I can control.” It dissipates, and I make it again, now more aerodynamic, as if I would fire it from my bow. “I can alter.” I dismiss it again, and then recreate it, and make it into a Broken Phantasm, glowing with power. “I can enhance.”

        I dismiss the creation, and my standard blades. “So, with that in mind, Lord Stark… Are you truly going to listen to what I say from this point on?”

        He stares at the space where the blade was, then turns to me, “Yes. Yes I will.”

        “That… Is a lot to take in.” I’ve basically repeated all I said in front of Guts and Kenshiro, with modifications to avoid talking about the future. No need to go any further. Or sound like a time traveller.

        I spin a nameless dagger around my hand like Riddick, “Yep.” I catch it, and crush it, sending it back to my Reality Marble. “The Lannister siblings are screwing each other behind your king’s back, the Targaryen’s got a bun in the oven, and White Walkers are very, very real. Long story short, get the Lannisters’ heads on pikes ASAP, leave the Targaryen alone for now, and get more men to the North. Your little creed is now a fact, Lord Stark. Winter is coming, and it’s bringing a few friends.”

        Stark stands up from his desk, “How… do you intend for me to accomplish this?”

        I shrug, “Well, if you get the Lannisters on the chopping board at the right time, the fervor from that should distract Robert from caring about the child. Hell, he may even want to let them take back the throne. Rob has so little truly left for himself, y’know. You may need to look past all the drinking… and the fat…” Ned smiles at that, “He is so empty. He’s in a loveless marriage, and he can’t do anything without a dozen guards breathing down his neck. This is going to ruin him.”

        Ned looks at Guts and Kenshiro. Kenshiro sighs, “M’lord, sometimes you have to break a friend’s heart to help them. I’ve seen it plenty of times before. Of all the fates that can befall him, this is possibly the best. Would you rather this be slipped under the rug, and Joffrey become king under false pretenses, as a tool for his mother?”

        Guts nods, “Indeed. Joffrey, brat he is, is still his mother’s tool. He does what she commands, without realizing it. She’s primed him all his life. He may be on the throne, but she’ll be the true ruler.”

        Stark drops his head into his hands, and groans.

        At that moment, the guard opens the door, “Lord Stark, it’s your daughter.”

Arya runs in, “Daddy!” She jumps up, and hugs him. “Daddy!”

Stark forces a laugh, “What is it, sweetheart?”

“There’s something in my room.” I stop at that. That’s not how the show goes.

Nothing is certain to go along the path you remember, EMIYA.

Ned looks at us, “Well… We better check it out, eh?”

Kenshiro cracks his knuckles, “Indeed, m’lord.” The martial artist takes the lead, and we march as swiftly as possible to Arya’s room.

I’m thrown off the second I reach the doorway. There’s something here that definitely shouldn’t be. A magical presence. I reach into my cloak, and draw Kanshou and Bakuya, creating the illusion that they were hidden under it. “Everyone, stay back.”

Guts reaches for Dragonslayer, “What is it, Archer?”

I narrow my gaze, and begin analyzing everything. Not even a speck of dust passes my vision. I can’t see it, but I can feel it. And that’s the problem.

And then the dresser is destroyed. Wood flies all around, and I pull Kenshiro back. I turn back to Arya’s room, and see a beastly form, lunging forth. Fangs and wild, primal eyes are all I can see before it’s already on me. I raise my blade, and let the beast fly right at it. Much to my surprise, the thing moves in midair, and curves around Bakuya. As it flies past me, my eyes widen in disbelief. It can’t be…

The thing drops, just under Guts’ swing of Dragonslayer, and leaps again over the man, its fangs aimed at Arya.

“DADDY!”

*THUNK* The beast is now pinned to the ceiling by my arrow. It keeps flailing its limbs, reaching and clawing in the direction of the girl, but now I see it in full.

A woman. A woman screams and roars, hisses and snarls, at the young Stark. But not any woman. A Dead Apostle. I generate a Black Key, “Stay back. Don’t want this thing biting you…” The Dead Apostle only stops its hissing at Arya to start roaring at me. I jab it between the eyes, and it disintegrates. The dust left behind piles on the ground, and the arrow pinning it to the ceiling vanishes at my command.

Stark stares, and levels his blade at its remains. “What… was that?”

“A Dead Apostle.” They all look to me.

“A what?”

“Call an official meeting. Not just with the council. I want this in front of the Iron Throne.”

        “What is the meaning of this meeting, anyways? And who’s this moron?” Robert shouts, pointing at me accusingly.

        Stark looks to him, “Your Highness, there’s a problem. This man is known as Archer, and he’s going to explain what it is.”

        I look around, “Thank you, Lord Stark. Council, please pay attention, closely. A few minutes ago, a rabid woman made an attempt on Lord Stark’s daughter’s life. She leapt past us with skill that no ordinary human could ever hope to possess. I had to pin her to the ceiling with an arrow, and even then, she did not register the pain. Instead, rather, she continued to claw after Arya, like a wild animal.”

        Robert laughs, “What’s that supposed to mean? One madwoman managed to breach our defenses? You want us to up security or something?”

        “No. It means that we have a little something called Dead Apostles on the loose.”

        “What in the bloody hell’s a Dead Apostle?”

        I rub my forehead, “A living corpse. Animated by magic. Guided by raw instinct and hatred. Maintained by the blood and flesh of the living…”

        “A WHAT? HAHAHAHA!” Robert chortles. “Look at this! Stark, you brought us here for a jester?”

        I sigh, and look to Kenshiro, “May I?”

        He nods, “Go ahead.”

        I then proceed to trace a sword. The room goes dead silent. “This…” I spin it, “Is a gladius. A sword wielded by the average soldier in the Roman Empire.” It disappears, and I create another. “This is a short sword, wielded by your average British Army soldier.” I dismiss it, and make the sword that Barristan Selmy is wielding, “This is the blade your head of the Kingsguard wields. Check it.”

I toss it to Barristan, who compares the two. “This really is my weapon! Exactly the same… What in the…”

I conjure a nameless blade, and use it as a cane, leaning against it. “I am a magus. A sorcerer, if you want to use your terminology. I, for one, have battled countless Dead Apostles in my time. The one which attacked Lady Stark is but one of many, ladies and gentleman. There are three stages of Dead Apostles. The first is the kind that attacked Arya. We call it… a Ghoul.” I throw my blade at Robert, and it disappears just as it touches his beard.

“A Ghoul is, in short, a mindless beast. Pain doesn’t stop it. Compassion doesn’t falter it. It only exists to feast, and feast, and feast.”

Cersei laughs, “Ridiculous. Robert, dear, you don’t actually believe this fool, do you?”

I proceed to shoot an arrow into her hair arch. “Those words don’t mean much from one who bears her own brother’s children and calls them the king’s. But, before we change the subject...” I dismiss my bow, and turn my gaze back to the king.

“A Ghoul is in no way intelligent enough to have hidden itself and waited for Arya, let alone for Lord Stark to come, too. Which means it’s being commanded. And for every one Dead Apostle you see, there’s at least six more. A Dead Apostle is made when an older one eats from a human victim, but doesn’t quite finish the job. Now, think about it… How many people go missing in this cesspool you call a capital? Take that amount, and then triple it. Dead Apostles can last extremely long lives, as long as they have a steady supply of flesh and blood. The first twenty seven Dead Apostle Ancestors we know of are over ten thousand years old, at the least.” I let that information sink in.

Robert leans forwards, “And… what’re you saying, boy?”

I stare right back at him, “I’m saying that there could be hundreds, or even thousands of Dead Apostles waiting in the shadows. Quite literally, in the shadows. Dead Apostles burn in sunlight. Like… this one.” I throw a dagger into the air, and hit a figure on the ceiling.

“YAAAAGH!” He falls, and is hit by the light filtering through the window panes. He rises to his knees, “YOU… YOU… I’LL… GYAAAAAGH!” He quickly becomes ashes.

“You need any more evidence, Your Majesty?” I raise an eyebrow.

Robert swallows nervously, “What… What just happened?”

I glare at the ashes, and kick them. “A Living Dead. The second stage of Dead Apostles. After a Ghoul has eaten enough human flesh, they have a chance to regain their human mind and memories, but they’re still driven by hunger. A Living Dead can act, think, and feel like a human, barring some slight modifications. They are also able to command the Ghouls they make, and whenever a Ghoul eats someone, the Living Dead also receives the energy without lifting a finger. The Ghoul that attacked Arya was supposed to also attack Lord Stark. Turn them both into Ghouls, fill them with human flesh and blood, and make them Living Dead. They would likely proceed to attack you, Your Highness, and then destroy the system from within from there.”

The room enters an uproar. Noblemen and court ladies begin to panic and shout at the guards. “QUIET, QUIET, QUIET!” Robert screams at them, “You bunch of cowards! You hear about something like this, and you immediately rush to the guard, hopin’ they’ll protect ya.” He turns back to me, “So… Archer… What’re we supposed to do?”

I shrug, “Normally, the only option I can come up with would be to have all humans walk out of the city, into the sunlight, and leave the professionals, in this case, me, to clean it up. Unfortunately, as a single man, I cannot run through every house and exterminate all the Dead Apostles. I’m bound to miss a few, and then come nightfall, they’ll rush out, and either find a new hiding place, get more victims, or both. The only option I’m brought down to is flat-out destroying the entire city.”

Robert stares, “Ya mean ya want us to burn it?”

I stare back at him, and trace Caladbolg II. “No, I mean I want to destroy it all at once. Quite a few of the blades I possess are capable of destroying entire castle-sized structures. in one fell swoop.”

More wild protests. “DESTROY HIM!” “KILL HIM NOW!” “STOP THIS MONSTER!”

I simply generate another Dragonslayer, and let it hit the ground. The loud crash silences the court. “Really? Fucking… really? I claim to wield weapons that can destroy castles, and you think a few of your puny guardsmen and butter knives can hurt me? And with my arsenal in mind, do you honestly think you’d the chance?” They all look among themselves, appearing to realize their stupidity. Probably not.

“Anyways, that’s one of our only options. I’m gonna be really honest, this is probably the best one. If there’s any Dead Apostles of the third stage, then this place is already forfeit.”

Stark looks at me, “What is the third form of a Dead Apostle?”

I look to the tile, “It’s called a Vampire. And it’s the worst thing you can imagine. At first, they’re little more than stronger Living Dead. But, the older they grow, and the more minions they possess, and the more blood they drink… The closer they grow to godhood. They can walk in the sun. They can survive for whole months without feasting. Sometimes, a vampire can even transcend mortality.” Hushed gasps run through the throne room.

Robert gapes. “So… you think that you can destroy them?”

“Maybe… Maybe. If I destroy King’s Landing, then that’ll force the Dead Apostles out of hiding. Any vampires will be forced into the sunlight. If there are any that are able to survive in sunlight, I’ll destroy it with my own weaponry. I have a few tools that can resolve that.”

Robert leans in, “And… what if it’s immortal?”

“Then we do the only thing we can. Seal it with everything we have, put it into a coffin, chain said coffin down, and throw it into the Narrow Sea to sink to the bottom of the ocean, and hope that the lack of fresh blood keeps it weak enough to never escape.” I dislike leaving anything capable of destroying civilizations alive and sealed away, unlike some alicorns I can name, but I have no other options. “However, the chances of a vampire actually having achieved immortality is minute. That requires thousands upon thousands of years. There’s nothing in your legends and mythologies regarding anything like that, barring the White Walkers… SON OF A BITCH!” HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO STUPID?

Robert looks around, “What? What is it? What of the White Walkers?”

“White Walkers can make anyone they touch into an undead servant of theirs! A Dead Apostle is just an undead with some of its own soul clinging to the body! ROOT DAMNIT! The White Walkers CREATED the Dead Apostles!”

“What? What’re you implying, boy?”

“Assume that White Walkers have always been able to make undead servants. How long ago did mankind first meet the White Walkers?” Everyone in the room turns pale. “Indeed. White Walkers are ancient. Probably even older than mankind. If one of them made a Ghoul, and it ate lots of flesh and blood, and it ascended to become a vampire, then we’re dealing with a vampire anywhere from a little over a hundred years… To eight thousand.”

Nobody. Moves. A muscle.

Cersei moves, “You… You’re sure about this?”

“Positive. If they’re that old, then we have a serious problem on our hands..”

Robert glares, “So, what’s the plan?”

“Evacuate everyone. I’m blowing up King’s Landing tomorrow. Not enough time to do it today. I want this entire place evacuated early morning. No exceptions. And every wagon is to be checked. If someone’s wearing a hood, tear it off and let the sun beat down on them. Have all guards remain in the light, and in groups of four, at the minimum. This must be done with haste.”

Robert nods, “So shall it be.”

Cersei looks to him, “You can’t be serious! You’re going to let this… This monster destroy our home?”

“Better it be DESTROYED than infested with WALKING UNKILLABLE CORPSES!”

I nod, “Wise choice, Your Highness. I’ll trust you to have everything organized. And, for crying out loud, stay in the sunlight.”

        The moon hangs high in the sky. Tomorrow, we evacuate. So far, only those in the court know, and all of them have been checked. But that doesn’t mean I won’t take chances.

        I sit atop a tower, letting the breeze flow through my hair.

        ‘Archer. Need your help.’ Kenshiro calls to me. Oh, joy. I turn into spirit form, and pass through the walls until I reach him, sitting at a window looking across the courtyard.

        “You called, Master?”

        He nods, “Yeah. Look over there.” He points, and I see a small series of figures moving on the other side of the courtyard. With no light. I use my Clairvoyance, and notice that the figures are moving at normal, human speeds. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t just taking their time. I look closer, and see that one of them is trying to say something to the others.

        “I’ll check into it.” I turn into spirit form, and hover over the courtyard, until I arrive behind them. I take extra care to manifest a weapon before becoming solid. “Halt if you know what’s good for you.”

        The figures turn to me, and I see… “Prince Joffrey?” Joffrey, Sansa, and a few guards.

        “What do you want, wizard?” Damn. Someone’s feisty.

        I lower the nameless blade, “I could say the same thing about you, boy. You’re wandering about at night, with only two guards? Last I recall, I specifically instructed all guards to travel in groups of four for minimal security. You and Sansa don’t count as guards. C’mon, Sansa. Your father’s probably worried about you.”

        He raises his blade. “You stay back! My Queen isn’t going to be anywhere near here when you destroy everything!”

        I smile, “Aww, you really do care.” I mock. “Cute as it is, you’re still an idiot. What, you think you can escape a Dead Apostle in the middle of the night? Creatures that aren’t limited by fatigue or stamina? Who don’t even register pain?”

        He roars, “DON’T YOU DARE QUESTION ME! I AM YOUR PRINCE, AND I-”

        I slap him. “I bow to no kings, or their brats. I am trying to save your world from an undead apocalypse, and this is how you repay me? You scream at me and demand that I step down? Boy, you need to take a minute to think before you speak next time. If anything, you shouldn’t question me. I’m the one who knows what he’s doing. So, when I say ‘stay in your rooms, bar your windows, and don’t do anything stupid’, it’s for a good reason. Ever thought of that?”

        Now he jabs at me. I turn aside, and grab it with my forefinger and middle. “Try that again, and see what happens.” He does. I take the blade from him, and swing it hard enough to shatter against the stone wall.

        “Don’t test me, boy. I’m doing this for your own good.”

        That’s when something jumps on my back. I feel a set of fingers digging into my skin. Reflexively, I drop on my back, and let my assailant suffer the whiplash. I hear a head strike the stone floor. I summon a dagger, and slice its hand open. I jump up, and pull out my old Kanshou and Bakuya. I look at the assailant. It’s a Living Dead. Movements are too coordinated to be anything else.

        “GRAAA- UUUAAAAGHHH!” Its battle cry is cut off by a Black Key to the forehead. Fairly certain that’d cut off most other people’s, too.

        A loud hissing noise and a feminine scream joins it behind me. “SANSA-”

        … I never thought that a boy could achieve such a high octave in all my life. Joffrey, still screaming, turns and runs down the hallway. I look to the guards, “What’re you, idiots? STOP HIM BEFORE HE GETS HIMSELF KILLED!” I stab the Apostle, and toss it into the wall. “I’ve got Sansa. Now, RUN!”

        They follow, quite obediently at that. Good. Now I have two less necks to worry about. Much easier to focus on only keeping one intact. But, just so I don’t look like an asshole… ‘Master! Prince Joffrey tried to make a break for it with Sansa! And there’s Dead Apostles vying for their necks! Right now, I’m covering her, but he ran off. Two guards are following him. Raise the alarm, quickly.’

        ‘Got it.’

        Another leaps at me, fangs bared. Damn thing’s dead before it even hits the ground.

        Another leaps at Sansa from the hallway. The beast is rendered into a pincushion before it even realizes it.

        I grab the Stark girl by the hand, “Come along. Let’s go, get you to your father.”

        Another small squadron of them cut us off. One steps forwards, a malicious grin on her face. “Let’s not be hasty… Just stop right here, and we’ll make it nice and quick, see?”

        I frown, “I just took down three of you imbeciles faster than you can perceive. You honestly think that you’ll be any different?”

        She frowns, and then lunges. Dead. I take the liberty of decapitating her comrades, too. I push Sansa, “Come on, don’t be stupid!”

        We head into the courtyard, and a small horde of the Apostles emerge from the woodwork.

        “... You assholes multiply like Catholic rabbits.” I raise Kanshou and Bakuya, “Meh. Gives me more things to cut.”

        Five lunge at us. Four at me. One at Sansa. I cut through the first two, and then jab the one going for Sansa in its leg. I proceed to use the one I jabbed as a weapon, and throw it into the other two, tossing the lot of them against a wall. Then I throw the set of Kanshou and Bakuya at them. I generate another set, and toss them into the crowd of beasts. They all dodge, as I expected them to. I raise my hand, and snap my fingers.

        In it, a handle to a sword.. But not just any handle. The handle of this blade… is the only thing there. It’s just a handle. A katana handle, with a crossguard shaped like a Y.

        “Trace On…” I wave the handle around, while the undead chortle and cackle at me.

        “A sword without a blade? That won’t save you, little sorcerer!” One leaps out at me, fangs bared, and grinning maniacally, victory assured in his mind.

        “Yukianesa.” Ice ejects from the crossguard, and impales him in the head.

        “... Huh?” The Apostle looks to the space between his eyes. Then he becomes a popsicle.

        I raise my free hand, and flick him, shattering the brittle form completely. I swing the blade around, “Every sword I have traced is a deadly weapon all its own. And I am more than capable of killing you all with each and every single one of them.” Well, maybe not Scimitar #4582, but certainly the rest of them.

        “A fascinating display, I must admit.” A white-haired woman emerges from around the corner, clad in a brown cloak. “However, the game ends here. We will claim the Iron Throne, and you will not stop us.”

        I scoff, “I’m assuming you’re the vampire in charge?”

        “That I am… However, this isn’t about me, you know. Right now, it’s about you… and that Stark girl.” She points a long, thin finger at Sansa. I raise Yukianesa, and its blade reforms, shielding her.

        “I know for a fact you heard what I said in that throne room. I know there were other agents hiding in there.”

        She scoffs, “And you let them live so they could report to me… why, might I ask?”

        “So I could kill you.” I dismiss Yukianesa, and conjure a nameless blade, coated in holy symbols. “This blade was made during the Great Crusades. It’s coated in symbols and a passage of scripture. It was forged alongside with the singing of gospels. A single cut from this sword will kill anything unholy. And you, little fang-face, are on that list.” I raise it, and firmly grip its handle with both hands.

        “You think you’re so clever, do you?”

        “No, actually.” My response surprises her. Now, for the kicker… “Think means there may be evidence to the contrary. I know damn well I’m clever. Significantly more than you.”

        The vampire scowls, “You dare to mock me, mortal?”

        “Well, if by ‘mock’, you mean ‘set up a big-ass ambush’, then… yes.”

        She turns around, and is greeted with her fellow undead becoming target practice for the castle guard. The Mountain charges forth, his blade carrying no less than three of the still screaming bastards.

        Kenshiro’s fist slams into a Living Dead, and Guts’ blade knocks four Ghouls sky-high, before being incinerated with a well-placed cannon shot.

        “Hoo-rah.”

        The vampire turns about, “You… You think this will stop us? There are many, many more out here… and these pathetic men’s tools won’t kill us!”

        Then the screaming and incinerations start. “Yeah… about that… See, we may have kinda… dipped these weapons in holy water…” Kenshiro chuckles, “It’s a thing we do back home if something unholy needs to go back to the Nth circle of Hell or whatever. Holy water, blessed silver, or reading off Bible passages. Normally, at least ONE of those kills evil things. Or a fuckton of bullets.”

        I look to Kenshiro, “You watch Supernatural, too?”

        “Fuck yeah, man!”

        “WHOO! WINCHESTER BROS FOR LIFE!” I air-high five him, smiling. Can this day get ANY more awesome?

        The vampire snarls, “You… You… HHHRRRRAAAAGH!” She leaps at me. I sidestep. Off comes the leg.

        She lands on her side, at an awkward angle. Ouchie. She leaps again, although without any real power behind it, falling on her face again. I walk forwards, and place my boot on her head, “Vampire, thou have committed the highest form of treason, conspiracy to not only assault and dehumanize the king, but also his Hand and both their families, as well as conspiracy to throw all of the Seven Kingdoms into havoc. How doth thou plead?”

        The vampire snarls, lifting her head up, “T-t-treason? This… This is VENGEANCE, you insolent fool! I am simply removing this… FAt BASTARD from the throne of MY descendant, Viserys Targaryen!”

        I step back, “Wait, wait, wait… Your WHAT?” Rookie mistake. The vampire leaps out at me, and fangs impale my shoulder. I roll along, and throw her off, breaking some fangs in my shoulder. That’s gonna smart.

        The undead wipes blood from her mouth, snarling. “I am Rhaenys Targaryen, wife of Aegon the Conqueror, and it is the members of MY house who deserve the Iron Throne!”

        … By Heaven’s Feel… If this isn’t an M. Night Shyamalan plot-twist, I don’t know what the hell is.

        The guards are rather dismayed at this curious development. I know better than to let it get at me. I dash forwards, intending to finish the fight in a single stroke. “Fascinating story, but sleeping with your brother doesn’t make for very good kings, does it, now?”

        She rolls, “My line is meant to sit upon the Iron Throne! And yet they sit across the Narrow Sea, exiled and bound to be a Dothraki barbarian’s whore!”

        “... Okay, I think I’ve about had enough of this. Time to die.” I lunge forwards, and swing in a wide diagonal arc. Rhaenys lunges aside, and slices at my side. She misses. I let go of the blade, and use my free hand to create a Kanshou. I hold it up, and smirk at her. “Hey, you might wanna duck.”

        Rhaenys turns, and sees the Bakuya I hurled earlier coming back for her. She falls to the ground, letting me catch the white blade. As she rises, smirking, the other Kanshou lands in her shoulder. “I never said ‘stand up’, did I?”

        She snarls, and rips the blade from her shoulder. As she swings it down at me, I dismiss it, leaving her wide open. I slice her stomach open, and give her a powerful kick, making the ancient queen tumble backwards. I dismiss the Kanshou and Bakuya pair, and reach for the holy sword I left by my side. A single slice, and it’s all over. The blade’s sticking straight through her side, mere millimeters from her vitals.

        “I could end you with a single twitch, Rhaenys. Now, I’m only going to ask you this once… Where are the other Dead Apostles? I know someone else had to have turned you. Tell me, now!” I twist the blade, and its holy symbols begin burning her flesh.

        “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” She screams and struggles, but I keep my grip firm.

        “Tell me. Or I will end you, here and now.”

        “STOP IT! PLEASE, STOP IT! AAAGH, IT BURNS! STOP IT, STOP IT!” I tear the blade out of her, and let her drop to the ground.

        I stare at her coldly, and place the tip of the sword at her chin.

        “We’re right here.” Oh, boy. I turn around, and see another white-haired woman, and a white-haired man, too. A guard on the railing raises his bow and arrow, but another Dead Apostle gets the drop on him, and tears him open.

        “I’m assuming… you’re Aegon the Conqueror?” The man nods slowly. “Good. And I assume you decided to bring in the big guns to kill me?”

        “You have moved along exactly as we expected. You attacked our weakest, and drew them out to be assaulted. Now, we have brought our best to annihilate you.”

        I scoff, “So… you planned a trap… for my trap?”

        A small nod, and a smirk with it, “I suppose you could say that.”

        I laugh, “Quaint, but you forget that I, for one, specialize in killing things like you... Did you honestly think I would destroy King’s Landing? The entire point of this was to draw you imbeciles here. I knew you wouldn’t want a rogue element like myself to run amok, so I set myself up as the biggest threat imaginable. Now that you’re here, I’ll use my secret technique…” I lean forwards, tensing my muscles.

        “RUN AWAY!” I dash up the side of the wall, and leave the lot of them staring, wondering what exactly the point of that was.

        ‘ARCHER! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?’ Kenshiro screams into my head.

        ‘Master, I implore you watch. Trust me. I have a plan.’ I clamber atop the roof, and make a new set of Kanshou and Bakuya. I hear Aegon leap up behind me, and hurl Kanshou in a wide arc through the air. I slam Bakuya into his arms, but he dodges, and headbutts me. I rub my forehead, and slide past his fangs. He slices and snaps, and I keep dodging, and pecking at his defenses.

        “You… PEST!” He lunges at me, and I duck. He falls over the side of the building, into the streets. I leap down after him, and begin jabbing with Bakuya. He dodges constantly, and swipes at me repetitively. We keep jumping and swinging, before I break into a dash down the street, with him in hot pursuit. We eventually reach the city wall, and I dash up the side. I continue my game of tag with him, making small incisions and moving around his attacks.

        Aegon, tired of my antics, juts his claws out, and swipes at my neck. I knee him in the stomach, and back flip. Quite a bit. I land, and throw Bakuya at him. He grabs the sword, and smirks at me. I point behind him. He turns, and stares in awe as the Kanshou I hurled came right for his stomach.

        “GAH! Urk… You… are an annoying brat, aren’t you? No matter, I’ll kill you, and then I’ll-” I dash forwards, and knee his jaw in. I grab Bakuya from his hand, and slam it into his shoulder, wrenching it around for a bit. I dismiss both blades, and grab him by the arm, twisting it until the mangled body part comes right off. I raise it into the air, and smack him in the head with it. Hard.

        “I’ve played enough games, vampire. This is where it ends.” He tries to get me with his good arm. It comes off.

        “You… How can you possibly do this? You are just a man! A mortal man! I am better than you, and I-” I kick his jaw clean off.

        “Roadhouse.” I knee him in the stomach again, and as he collapses, I raise my leg high, hammer kicking him into the ground. I grab him by the hair, and begin spinning in a circle, before hurling him out into the open air, over the ocean. I generate my bow at its greatest size, and plant it on the ground. I reach into my Reality Marble, and find a single weapon. A sword, of course, but a specific one. One that is best fit for destroying this monster. Needle, the blade of Arya Stark. But now it’s been altered, and made sleek, and aerodynamic. Along the side, I project holy runes and markings, burning along the entirety of the weapon. I’m taking no chances.

I press it against the drawstring, and pull. Hard. I pour as much od as I can manage into the weapon. Needle reaches its breaking point, and od begins to flow out of it wildly. It became fragile. It became dangerous.

        It became broken.

        “I am the bone of my sword.” Needle flies. The sky burns.

        A new sun is born. Its birth-cry is Aegon’s death scream. And then, it vanishes. I glare at the space for a moment, reinforced eyes analyzing any potential remains. I see nothing left, and dismiss the bow. I turn around, to see Guts and Kenshiro, in awe at the sight.

        “The vampire is dead, Master.”

        He stares, “Uh… Kinda figured…”

        Guts levels Dragonslayer to me, “You could’ve done that the whole time, and chose not to?”

        “A technique of that scale would’ve annihilated a portion of the castle. I needed a target in the open for it to work. This was my chance.”

        “Well… Uh…”

        “What’re your next orders, Master?”

        Kenshiro sighs, “I really don’t have anything else in mind… To be honest, I expected this to be a whole saga of its own or something.”

        “The world isn’t that simple, or awesome, Master. It needed to end in one night. I did just that. Now, what would you have me do next?”

        Kenshiro is taken aback. “You’re still gonna stay and listen to me? Don’t ya wanna, like, go home or something?”

        “I am your sword, Master. Whether you choose to retire me or continue to wield me is your own decision. I can influence it, but in the end you must decide to send me home.”

        “Well, I honestly have no real reason for you to stay… We can manage ourselves from here, I believe.”

        I nod, “Thank you, Master. My team is probably ripping themselves apart without me.”

        Kenshiro nods, but then stops, and turns his ear, as if listening to something. He nods again at an invisible force, “Got it. That was the Holy Grail. It just told me how to send you home. Ah-hem… Servant Archer, I hereby abolish our contract.”

        I bow to him, “Fare thee well, old sports.” I fade into the Void.

        I feel my feet hitting the floor of our cavern, and my blurred vision shows only a mismatching blob of black and white moving at high speed.

        Next thing I know, I’m on the ground, and I feel a small pair of arms wrapping around my chest. “Papa, papa! You’re home!” My eyes recover, and I see Jackie, clinging to me, smiling and giggling.

I pat her on the head, “Yeah. I just got called in for work… Sorry for leaving without any warning. I’ll make sure to get some notice next time.” I glare at the gold chalice on the table.

Hey, I just do my job. People call, I respond.

Yeah. That’s all you do.

Rider scoffs, “Yeah. Cute. If you’re done arguing with the talking wine glass, I think we’ll get on with the next series of events that are occurring.”

I look to her with a raised eyebrow, “Those would be… what, exactly?”

“Twilight Sparkle’s time travel incident…”

Try saying that five times fast… “How bad’ll it be?”

“The bookworm tries to make a problem so she can fix it.”

“... Get the popcorn.”