Chapter 3 Fate: False Farce (FSN SI)

Chapter 3: Saber, Baeber, You’ve Got A Few Problems

If she wasn’t a king, she’d be grinning like a madwoman with this battle.

Since she was a king, Art-- *cough* Saber simply settled for putting her all into a downward slash. Naturally, it was blocked by Lancer’s spear, but this was but one move in the countless exchanges that would follow suit. This Lancer wasn’t the same as the old Lancer, having only one spear to the previous two, and wasn’t another knight, but she got that same sense of lax rivalry.

No real rivalry, no real feelings, just two individuals on opposite sides, looking to stab one another to death.

…In a way, it was a relief to not have to fight another knight. No codes of chivalry, no way to accidentally get attached, just a simple but enjoyable fight.

“Heh, you’re pretty good,” Lancer grinned, leaning into the strike, “You’re-- Whoa!” He dodged the sudden swipe with a pipe that… her Master!? Why was her Master engaging in close combat with Lancer!?

This was… Well, it wasn’t a formal one on one, but it was clearly implied. Also, Masters shouldn’t fight Servants. That was also very important to note.

“Forget about me?” her Master smiled with bloodied teeth before aiming the gun at Lancer, “Smile wide.”

Enduring the sound of a gun firing yet once more, Saber found her faith severely tested. What kind of joke was God playing upon her to give her yet another master obsessed with guns? Never mind. Just hide the pain with the fervor of battle.

Lancer whirling around with his spear outstretched to force both combatants to back off, and Saber felt her heart clench as her Master barely avoided being cut by the speartip. “You’re not going to hit me with--” Lancer cut off his taunt as Saber roared with a downward slash, “I was talking!”

“Talking is a sin on the battlefield,” Saber growled. God, this was going to be such a nice fight too. Fighting another Lancer, but this time without any honor duels or weird friendships, just… Just fighting! And now this!

A battlefield should be simple. Customary greetings, introductions, and, if one must, taunting beforehand, but in the midst of the fight, a simple attack and defense was best. No fuss, no muss, no surprise followers apologizing and/or trying to redeem themselves with long speeches about failing duty and wishing for punishment or just--

A battlefield should just be individuals seeking to beat one another into a bloody pulp as God intended with nothing else.

And, while Saber understood that warfare had evolved since her time, she’d really quite prefer it if there were no guns.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” her Master broke all rules of common sense and decency by hopping in to shoot yet more bullets at Lancer, * “But it’s definitely not a free action.”

Buffets of winds blew out as Lancer’s Protection activated again and again, “What the--” He turned to face her Master, allowing Saber to follow through with a slash. Turning back immediately, he blocked and withdrew, shouting, “You bitch!”

Twirling the pole one-handed, from right to left and then above his neck before snapping it back into a one-armed hold, Saber’s Master cracked his neck and smirked, “Call me bitchy, but I like 2 V 1s in the favor of me and mine.”

“This isn’t how Servant fights are supposed to go, Master!” Saber begg-- warned. Saber warned, “Please stay back!”

She was fully aware of the hypocrisy of that statement, considering how many openings her Master had just opened up with those… strange tactics, but it was all over if he died. Saber would very much appreciate it if her Master didn’t… Do precisely what he was doing now.

Why, oh why was he charging in!?

“Stop calling me, Master!” he shouted, shooting once more as he slid under Lancer’s swipe, “I’m a firm believer against slavery!”

Just how many bullets did that gun hold!? Ostensibly, none of them were hitting, but Lancer was visibly flagging from how often his Protection from Projectiles was activating. Against common sense, there was a sense to her Master’s madness and it was pis- irritating Saber very much right now.

“This isn’t slavery! This is the Servant System” Saber charged in, blocking a flurry of thrusts from Lancer to protect her Master’s retreat, “And you’re supposed to be in the backline!”

Kiritsugu was never this bad. Dishonorable, a mess of a man, a complete asshole, but at least he didn’t try to fist-fight a literal Servant. Saber almost missed… Actually, no, she didn’t, but she certainly missed having a backline Master.

…You know what? She’ll say she missed Irisviel. Irisviel was a perfectly sane person to miss, unlike Kiritsugu Emiya. You’d have to be insane to miss a madman like him.

“Stop fucking chatting! You’re fighting me!” Lancer yelled, thrusting forward in a powerful blow that… her Master barely blocked. How’d he do that!? As it was, it sent him bowling away, forcing Saber to dash in to retake Lancer’s focus.

But still! How!? He was-- Never mind. Saber would be here all night if she tried to figure out this nonsense.

Perhaps that would finally give her Master the wisdom to--

“Right.” Saber’s Master nodded as he reached up and pulled an ovoid object from the bandolier, “Flashbang incoming.”

“When will you learn? Protection against Projec--” Lancer screamed in rage when the object banged with a blinding flash, “Oh, come on!”

If she wasn’t a king, Saber would’ve cussed at the painfully sudden flash of light.. Since she was a king, Saber simply kept her eyes closed, ignored the ringing of her ears and kept her charge going. She had to rely on her Instinct to find footing and guide her attacks. Fortunately, Lancer was just as blind and so couldn’t take advantage of her momentary weakness, but by God, would it kill her Master to be something approaching remotely sensible!?

The combatants withdrew; Lancer to the garden wall, Saber and her Master regrouping close to the Veranda. A deep breath, a short truce ensued as the combatants tried to recover from disorientation.

“You blinded me!” Saber hissed, uncaring of her kingly demeanor at this point.

Irritatingly, her Master didn’t care, simply reloading his gun. A click, a twirl, and her Master settled into a stance, left hand holding the pole like a spear and right hand aiming once more, “In my defense, I did give you a warning.”

“Barely,” Saber growled, keeping an eye on Lancer even as she muttered to herself, “You’re worse than Kiritsugu. What happened to chivalry!?”

Annoyingly, her Master heard her rhetorical question and answered immediately, “Dead out the womb.”

Now, that. That was definitely something Kiritsugu would say. Perhaps not in that manner or phrasing, but definitely the sentiment.

…Was this his son? This better not be Kiritsugu’s son, or… Or… Or something. Saber didn’t know what she’d do, but she’d definitely do something.

Then, to Saber’s eternal consternation, her Master ran back in wish a simple order of “Cover me.”

“Do you know the meaning of stay back!?” Saber growled, following and then dashing past her Master. If her Master insisted on fighting, then at least allow herself to control the tempo.

“Yes,” her Master answered before resolutely demonstrating his lack of understanding by firing yet another barrage of bullets at Lancer without pausing in the charge.

“You are beyond irritating.” Lancer growled as the Projectiles were deflected once more, and then was silent as Saber locked her blade with Lancer’s spear.

“Thank you,” her Master replied, firing off another barrage.

Unfortunately, his luck finally ran out. Adding power to disengage in such a way that it prevented Saber from recovering properly, Lancer used the opportunity to turn around and punch her Master’s stomach with force. Amazingly, her Master survived that. Not so amazingly, he couldn’t escape Lancer slamming his foot into his chest and pinning him.

“I’m getting real tired of your shit,” Lancer growled, grinding his heel into Saber’s Master’s chest, “How many times do you have to try before you realize bullets don’t-- Fuck! MY EYES!”

“Pocket sand,” her Master refuted, having grabbed a fistful of dirt from the ground and thrown it at Lancer’s face.

Distasteful, dishonorable, and damn it all, Saber hated herself for making use of the opening to attack Lancer with a forward thrust.

This better not be Kiritsugu all over again. Please, God, if thou exist, please let this not be another Kiritsugu again.

=====

This was hard. My Magic Circuits were wide as they could be, taking in everything they could just to Reinforce my body to keep up in this fight. It still wasn’t enough, but thank Gods for Saber, because without her, I’d be dead.

I couldn’t stop though. Even as I stepped again and again into a realm that mortals really shouldn’t even think of entering, I found myself pulled forward to help in any way that I could.

Blocking, hitting, shooting, dodging, I scrabbled and clawed for every bit that I could, trying, seeking, failing to find some way to prove that I deserved to be here. This night was the first night of the Holy Grail War and if I couldn’t be of some use in even the first battle?

…Then better I die and have the rest figure it out. It’d be kinder to us all to cut out the dross.

“Master!” Saber shouted, knocking away another thrust to me and pulling me out of my spiral. Bad habit of mine. I really need to thank Saber, “Please retreat!”

I probably should, but… This was the best learning experience I would have. The stakes were the lowest they’d be, no path had been selected as of yet, and this was my dry-run so to speak to figure out how I should engage in future battles.

If I really was the Shiro of this world, then I needed to know how good of a fake I could be.

So I apologized mentally to Saber and dashed in to re-engage with my pipe against his spear. This fight was stressing my limitis, but with a bit of work, I could Temper each

“Is this a good fight?” I wondered aloud, firing off another clip.

“Maybe? Stop shooting at me!” Lancer scowled, stabbing at me once. He definitely wanted to do more, but after I dodged that strike, Saber re-engaged him and he was forced to deal with that. Nevertheless, he continued shouting, “Projectiles are--”

“Great for distractions,” I helpfully finished for him, tossing another flashbang. I don’t think I could engage in close-quarters combat anymore, but I was satisfied by this point. I had gotten what I wanted and I’d just need a quiet moment later to settle the changes and review the fight, Tempering myself.

Naturally, it distracted them and I used the opportunity to whack his kneecaps. It didn’t break anything, but his dodge away from Saber was satisfyingly hobbled. Before I could rush in though, Saber grabbed my collar and pulled me out of his passing spear thrust and threw me off to the side.

“HOW MANY OF THOSE DO YOU HAVE!?” Lancer and Saber roared together even as their weapons clashed together once more.

Five. Now three.

“Enough,” I answered, reaching into my pocket to reload my gun.

…Empty. Ah, well. Now was a good time as any to practice in-combat Projection. Running forward, I crafted the image of a helical magazine. Cylindrical and round, I hollowed it out and created the bullets inside the slots, 9 mm.

I had made my own, just to better understand the composition, but factory-made was more consistent and that was what I used for the base of my image. The chemical propellant was standard and easily replicable.

Working from the magazine to the bullet to the structure, I reversed the held image and worked from the structure to the bullet to the magazine. Understanding the parts of the whole and understanding the whole of the parts, I then Projected a magazine and reloaded.

I then fired the whole clip at Lancer.

“Master!” Saber growled as Lancer’s passive activated again and again, “WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SHOOTING HIM!?”

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes and tossed the third flashbang at Lancer to both Servant’s annoyance.

As both Servants disengaged to recover, I began planning my next moves after this fight. It was nice having confirmation that I had mastered Projection to the point of using it in real combat. Next step would be to see if I could… fake a Faker’s signature technique.

“All right, that’s enough!” Lancer suddenly roared, falling into a stance. Legs bent low, he raised his spear up and back to his chest.

“Gae--”

Pulling out the Noble Phantasm, eh? He must be aiming at Saber. His trump card would also be his weakest moment. I didn’t want to kill him, but I was not above hurting him.Time for another flash--

“Bolg!*

My chest was pierced.

Lancer thrusted.

And I found myself coughing up blood for the third time tonight. Despite the pain, I immediately focused on Grasping the rest of Gae Bolg.

Crafted from the corpse of a great monster, born from the wish to die of an immortal, borne by its user til the last breath, this spear was entrenched in death spiritual and physical from its birth to its loss. No pride, no shame, this spear of death is named [Gae Bolg]

…I stand corrected. He wasn’t aiming for Saber. He was aiming at me. Makes sense. Kill the Master and the Servant fades away. …That’s why Mages don’t get into close combat. I’m such a dummy for forgetting that. If I had a nickel for everytime I’ve been stabbed in the heart tonight, I’d have two and it’d be the shittiest two nickels ever.

Not that I could-- Not that I could use them since this is Japan. We use the Yen here. Not… Not USD, heh.

Oh, gods, will I ever get used to this pain? It-- It hurts so damn much.

“I cannot believe that you made me use that on you.” Lancer grumbled,, “Noble Phantasms are supposed to be for other Servants, you know.”

Despite his spear being the only thing keeping me up, I smirked and sassed him, “Hey, I gave you a *cough* fight.”

Fair enough, fair enough,” Lancer nodded before pulling his spear free with a painfully unnecessary amount of force, “I’ll give you that much. At least, you’re finally dead now.”

He then leapt away, just in time for Saber’s sword to come down on where he had been standing. Points for effort, Saber. You’ll get them next time. Ganbatte. Ganba… Ganbatte. I. I. I. had to say something. What was it? Oh, right.

“If that--” I wheezed as I collapsed onto my knees, “If that helps you sleep, sure.”

Other than that last bit of sass, I was focused on Reinforcing what was left of my body. A heart was vital, but with focus, other systems could take the place. Not for long, and not well, but just enough. The average person would fain in about 5 seconds from the amount of blood loss I had. With a bit of luck, I would have thirty seconds.L.

“Why’d you do that, Master!?” Saber didn’t quite yell, but certainly seemed like she wanted to. “You just had to stay back! Now it’s over before it’s even begun.”

She really was such a nice… nice person. Holding me and laying me down. Her armored skirt was… was hard but surprisi… surpris… comfy. Super comfy. Lap pillow comfy. Was she crying? She was. No. No. Don’t cry. I’m.. I’m sorry.

“Idiocy. Stupidity. Pick a *cough* pick a synonym,” I fumbled around my pockets, blindly searching for Rin’s jewel. Finding it, I pulled it out and pawed it onto Saber’s chest. “ Need you-- Need you to take this, Saber.”

“What?” Saber frowned in confusion even as she grabbed the jewel, an action that only twisted her beautiful features into adorableness. Wish she wasn’t wearing armor. Want to-- wanna touch Baeber’s boobah.

Not… not good. Blood loss making… making fuzzy. Had to. Had to focus. Tell Baeber what to do.

“Avalon in me,” I gasped, “Thirty pumps, two breaths. Believe in you.”

Then I died.

Again.

=====

It took Saber a minute to begin acting. An embarrassingly long minute, but in her defense, tonight had been an absolute confusion. She had a few moments before Gaia ejected her existence from this world, but in-between that then and now, she could save her Master.

Why did her Master have to be so… stubb-- Oh, right. He was dead right now. It didn’t matter what she said. Why did her Master have to be so stupid!? Who charges into a fight between Servants!? Who does that!? Who keeps on shooting gun after gun after gun at someone protected from projectiles!?

Saber very purposely ignored the idea of Kiritsugu. Kiritsugu. Was. As they said. A madman.

Placing her hand on her Master’s stomach, she reached past the physical into the metaphysical and groped around for her old Sheathe. Saber chuckled bitterly as she remembered Merlin’s lecture about how Avalon was more important than Excalibur. She hadn’t really listened at the time, but now… Now it was the one thing that kept her dream from dying once again.

Finally finding and feeling the familiar comforting aura of Avalon was… It was something, and Saber most definitely did not shed a few tears. Instead, she focused on sending her mana into the Sheathe, empowering it to heal her Master.

Attuned to herself, Avalon quickly gathered power and re-activated, covering her Master in a glowing white aura.

As her Master’s body healed itself,.Saber took a moment to slump and just… mentally vent. While her Master’s advice on… CPR, was it? While her Master’s advice on CPR was helpful, Avalon was more than enough to handle something like this, so Saber was taking this rare moment of alone time to relax. She didn’t do it often, it wasn’t Kingly-like to throw tantrums, even private little ones, but sometimes a King needed her own time, and after this night and that revelation, she definitely needed something.

WHY was Avalon in her Master!? She supposed that explained why she was summoned, but WHY was it in her Master!? Was that how Kiritsugu summoned her!? Was her Master Kiritsugu’s son!? Fuck her, if he was, she could not deal with another Emiya. …Maybe Irisviel, but no other! Did she… Did she want Avalon back? It’d be helpful for sure, but… leaving it in her Master would hopefully, maybe be enough to keep him from dying, and God knows that her fool of a Master needed something to replace the missing survival instinct.

All right. That was the plan then. Leave Avalon in her Master, but after interrogating him as to why the fuck it was in him. And uh… Win the war. Then next step was definitely win the war, get the Grail, make the wish, and save Britain and then… maybe live happily ever after? Fuck it, she’d figure that out after everything. And now.

…Did she have time? She had time. Lovely. She got to swear. Mentally, in her head of course, but yay.

Bitch. Ass. Fuck. Shit. Crap. Asshole. KIRITSUGU. Motherfucker. Son of a bitch-ass-whore-fucker. God damn KIRITSUGU! Fucker.

Then her Master snorted, and Saber shoved the whole mess of thoughts and feelings into the Not-Kingly-Behavior Box and put on her best King Face. She had a plan, and she had her duty, and that had to be enough.

As she was quickly learning, her Master woke up without any dignity whatsoever, launching upright and placing a hand on his chest and gasped, “Oh my fucking god, praise be the Gacha, I am alive~!”

What the fu-- What was a gacha? Never mind. Bowing her head, Saber politely stated her opinion, “Master, I mean this in the most respectful way possible. What the fuck.”

She deserved a swear. Not a mental one. A physical, verbal, out loud one. Saber truly felt that after that battle, she deserved one good swear. So satisfying.

Smiling brightly, her Master opened his arms and said, “I’ll explain everything, but first I’d like a hug.”

Out of all the things to be said, that was not one that she expected. Blinking twice and blushing rapidly, Saber did not stammer, “Wh-what?”

Arms still outstretched, her Master attempted to do a… puppy-face? Was that the term? Her Master attempted to do a puppy face, but succeeded in only a slightly sad deadpan gaze as he begged, “Please?”

…Somehow, it still worked. In a failed-twice over, pitiful, points-for-effort sort of manner. The failed but honest attempt at showing weakness somehow worked and Saber simply stifled a sigh as she pulled her Master into a hug.

She very politely pretended not to hear the sniffling.

…Hah. Well, if there was one bright side, it was that there was no way that this Master was related to Kiritsugu. Too emotionally open and vulnerable for that. The deadpan expression aside, the stoicism was fast broken with their actions, and… Saber was cautiously slotting this Master into Not-A-Murder-Hobo.

Definitely placing them into Gun-Maniac and Explosion-Freak, but hopefully not a Murder-Hobo.

…She shoved the feeling of jealousy down into the Not-Kingly-Behavior Box. So what if it’d been nice to have someone other than a Dick-Wizard to have a breakdown with? Saber was the King of Britain, and she had a duty to her people. No time

“Thank you, Saber,” her Master eventually pulled away, smiling and looking at her with… a strange amount of trust for someone they had just met.

“...You’re welcome.” Saber muttered, resolutely fighting the urge to look away like an embarrassed pageboy. …When was the last time somebody had looked at her without the veil of expectation? No raised pedestal or admiration, just…

Saber shoved those feelings into the Not-Kingly-Behavior Box. She was almost thankful for the two encroaching presences. She was not going to grow any attachments this time around. Strictly business. No fun rivalries, no nice Masters, just fight the war, do the six murders, get the wish, and save Britain.

“I sense a Servant, Master,” Saber stoically announced, unofficially starting step one of her plan. Pity that Lancer got away, but she’d start the murders with this one.

Naturally, her Master put an end to that, waving one hand in a lax manner, “Oh, go invite them in. I have to make a call and cook dinner.” He then smiled, “I'm making katsudon.”

What the hell was--

Katsudon. A popular Japanese dish, a bowl of rice topped with a deep-fried breaded pork cutlet, egg, vegetables, and condiments. Often eaten before and/or after an important event for good luck and celebration due to the ‘katsu’ of katsudon coinciding with the ‘katsu’ of ‘to win’.

Thank you, Servant System for the unnecessarily detailed explanation. Unfortunately, what Saber really wanted to know was what the hell was her master thinking?

“I should go fight them,” Saber decl-- suggested. She had to remember that while she was a King, her Master was not her subject. Also, her Master was fuc-- Also, her Master was unpredictable.

“Nah, invite them in. I have enough pork for everyone,” Her Master explained, completely missing the point,  “Please do not attack them. I will not use a Command Seal to enforce this, but… Please? Just don’t? I’m fairly certain one of them is my classmate.”

…Gah. Saber almost wished her Master would threaten to use a Command Seal to force her. Now that he had asked her, politely, without threat, Saber felt obligated as a King to… to… to listen… to…

To listen to her Master’s request and not kill the enemy Servant.

…Who would’ve thought a Master could be so… honest? She almost… No. She did not miss Kiritsugu’s tactics or demeanor, but… Saber would admit that she gained a certain appreciation for Kitisugu’s practicality  in retrospect. Honestly!? Inviting an Enemy Master and Servant into your domain.

“Master, I really must ask. Do you know what you signed up for?”

“Yes. It’s very stupid war.”

It was only Saber’s discipline that prevented her from massaging her temples. She very carefully did not scream. She may have raised her voice just a tiny bit at the end, “Do you know what the prize for this war is!?”

Pursing his lips, her Master slammed a fist into palm with realization, “Oooh, right, you don’t know about the curse. The Grail’s cursed by the way. That’s why my old man had you destroy it in the last Murder-Death-Kill. To stop the corruption from spreading”

“...What?”

How did-- When did-- Just what-- Saber had so many questions, least of which what exactly was a Murder-Death-Kill. Context and logical reasoning answered that one, but Saber really did not like the idea of her Master referring to the Holy Grail War as… that.

And cursed!? Holy Grail cursed? That was impossible! …Though it being corrupted would explain why that weird tentacle-Caster was summoned, and why a serial-murderer had been chosen. And the children exploding into tentacles. Probably unrelated to the corruption, but seeing as the tentacle-Caster was responsible for that part of trauma, Saber was--

No. No. Her Master had to be wrong. He had to be wrong. The Grail couldn’t be cursed or corrupted. If it was, that would mean everything was for… was for nothing. That all the Servant’s struggles were for nothing, that… that their dreams could never come true. Just… It would all be for nothing.

Also, it would mean Kiritsugu was right, and Saber hated imagining his stoic, impassive face not-emoting how smug he was.

Wait. …Old man? His old-- Oh, for fuck’s sake, why did she have to have another Emiya!? GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!

“I”ll explain over dinner,” her Master waved her off, shooing her with two hands and clapping twice, “Now, chop-chop. Go invite them in please.” He then smiled, “I’ll see about getting some dessert also. Does chocolate sound good? You look like you like chocolate. I’ll steal a bit from Big Sis Taiga’s chocolate stache. Look forward to it!”

Then before Saber could even attempt to form a question, her Master was gone, disappearing into the house with only the fading notes of a cheerful whistling song.

One hand outstretched in confusion, Saber had the sinking realization that her new Master was somehow far more troublesome than her last one. She had wished that Kiritsugu was many things. More honorable, less suspicious, more trusting, less paranoid, more open, less closed off, but hearing her master yearn for peace at the start of this Holy Grail War? Then immediately invite an enemy into his abode for dinner?

Perhaps she should have appreciated the lack of insanity more.

Actually, no. Kiritsugu was completely insane, what with the guns and bombs and ruthlessness, but his son looked to be much saner at least.

….Hopefully.

…Wait, she never got her Master’s name. Good thing her training for King had prepared her for not remembering people’s names. This piece of advice had served her well in many things.

Never bring it up.

=====

AN: Here's hoping this is good. Also, I did study for exams, but not as much, but also hopefully enough, and just...

I wrote this?