Summoning

Trifas - a small city north of Sighisoara, the birthplace of

Kaziklu Bey

The Impaling Prince

Its walls, built to defend against the invasion of the Turks during the Middle Ages, is still perfectly preserved, surrounding the citadel and one part of the city.

Many of the city's buildings were built during the Middle Ages and have undergone repeated repairs and reconstructions, making them no less valuable than those in Sighisoara. Its population of 20,000 is based mostly around the work of agriculture and textiles.

And of course, there is what you could call the symbol of the city, a gigantic castle which sat atop a small hill, towering above the streets: the Fortress of Millennia. This castle has never changed hands since the Middle Ages onwards and up to present day. The invasion of the Ottoman

It is not only the clan of Yggdmillennia within its walls. There are menials with fine features - no one knew where they came from - working various chores and patrolling the castle grounds with halberds in hand, something unthinkable in this day and age. Walking along the stone floor, one would find status with glowing eyes...

A sight that would shock any whose eyes laid upon it... but no simple resident of Trifas would be so reckless as to step within this strange castle. When the lights in the citadel are lit, they are forbidden from even stepping outside their homes.

That is why three months ago, when the lights which had been extinguished for so long became bright again, the people exchanged glances and gloom clouded their faces. The rulers of the castle, those bloodstained tyrants, had returned.

Praying for the safety of their home, the people of Trifas continued their daily lives...

Two hours past midnight, and the city of Trifas is already deep in slumber, with the Fortress of Millennia looking down upon it as though in contempt.

(Inside the Fortress of Millennia)

Yes, everything has been for the sake of this very day." Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia whispered standing beside a window in the castle, looking outwards

Truly, there were a thousand emotions surging in those words. He has been preparing for over sixty years, after all - ever since the Third Holy Grail War, he has been putting everything in order, discreetly in order to avoid drawing any suspicion.

His only misstep was allowing the information regarding the Fuyuki Holy Grail War to spread; due to this, the holy relics which could act as catalysts disappeared left and right. The most venerable King of Heroes, the King of Knights with the greatest of holy swords, and the King of Conquerors who had controlled half the world - in time, all of their catalysts were scattered and became lost. Of course, the holy relics which the clan has gathered over the previous decades, under his orders, are enough to summon excellent Heroic Spirits. Certainly no less than the relics that the Association has independently gathered as well.

With the four simultaneous summons of tonight, they will have all the Seven Servants.

This means that, in a few more hours, the Yggdmillennia will light the beacon of rebellion against the Association of Magi.

Everything has been proceeding as smoothly as he expected, save one. That the Clock Tower would attempt extermination after his clan declared secession was all within his predictions. That fifty magi would infiltrate Trifas, wait in the woods outside the city, and plan to end it all in one night was also within his predictions. That the Servant he summoned, Lancer, would take barely thirty seconds to annihilate fifty experienced hunters was beyond his predictions - simply wonderful.

"...It's nearly time, Grandfather."

Said the girl in the wheelchair in a soft and clear voice as she smiled. Darnic smiled back, as though infected by the girl's sweetness.

"Are you well, Fiore?"

"I'm all right. My little brother seems a bit restless, though."

Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia - the only magus within the Yggdmillennia clan with true talent, and Darnic's successor; in other words, she has been recognized as the future elder of the Yggdmillennia.

Generally, there are two kinds of 'geniuses' in the world. Either one is so gifted as to be able to master a vast range of studies, or one is in possession of a terrifyingly deep wealth of talent in a single field.

Fiore is the latter. Although she is weak at most types of thaumaturgy, in the fields of spiritual evocation and human engineering, her skills rival or even surpass the first-class instructors of the Clock Tower. In particular, the

Bronze-Link Manipulators

Coupled Reinforcement Mystic Codes

she produced, with her own original alterations, boast the power to allow even a third-class magus to bring down a first-class one.

Over the many generations of thickening blood in the Yddgmillennia clan, it is mostlylikely that no magus has appeared with greater aptitude than her.

"Who could have expected that the Command Spells would appear on both of you at the same time? If we were under the original system of the Holy Grail War, this would have led to a tragedy."

"...Yes. I guess it would."

To magi, it is common sense for even teacher and pupil, or older and younger siblings, to go for each other's throats when met with a conflict of interests. However, that would not have been the case for Fiore and her brother, as there is simply too great a difference in power between them. It would only have ended unilaterally with Fiore murdering him as he cowered in fear. Truly, it would have been a tragedy.

"I heard that the Association of Magi has sent their last magus."

"Your ears are sharp."

Darnic gave a wry smile. It was about an hour ago that they received a report from people they have hidden in the Clock Tower.

"So it's finally starting, then..."

"Yes, with this day, the Servants of Black and Red shall begin this Great Holy Grail War. And we of

Yggdmillennia

The Tree of a Thousand Realms

shall take in our hands all the mysteries and miracles of the world."

The sorrow on Fiore's face is not simply due to a dislike of conflict. Like the average magus, she studied at the Clock Tower. Her friends are still enrolled there even now, and she was not particularly dissatisfied by the place. Of course, she will not be facing against her friends directly... but it still leaves a bad taste in her , fear also played a part. In the thaumaturgical world, the Clock Tower is an absolute symbol. Founded at the very beginning of the Common Era, this organization has gathered every kind of mystery, every kind of thaumaturgy.

Opposing her friends is simply her sentimentality, not something which can obstruct her in the path towards her objective. She has already committed herself to a full confrontation with the Association.

"Now, accompany me to meet our Lord. Let us go to the summoning of the knights who would protect us."

"Yes, Grandfather."

By the time they reached the throne room, where the ritual would take place, four other Masters have already gathered. There are also homunculi taking care of various menial tasks and silently bringing in the required thaumaturgical tools.

The magic ward itself has already been drawn. It uses a mixture of gold and silver, kept in a liquid state by a temperature-retaining technique. This complex and delicate ward was devised to summon multiple Servants at once.

All noise came to an abrupt stop. Darnic chose this moment to move to a spot next to the throne and declare with outspread arms.

"Place the catalysts you have each gathered upon the altar."

The Masters nodded.

The first - Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia, a portly man. With a single look at his expression, one can tell that he is a pompous man. His craft is alchemy. His catalyst is kept in a case, perhaps due to its value, or not wanting the other Masters to see it.

The second - Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia, the girl in the wheelchair. Her craft is spiritual evocation and human engineering. Her catalyst is an ancient arrow, its tip blackened by something - perhaps blood.

The third - Selenik Icecol Yggdramillennia. Her craft is the dark arts. Despite her clean-cut appearance, her entire body reeked of blood; likely it is due to her kissing the innards taken from the bellies of beasts and humans to be used as sacrifices. Her catalyst is a glass bottle. There are still stains of some kind of liquid remaining inside.

The fourth - Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia, the younger brother of Fiore. His craft is summoning and quite recently Electrical magecraft . With the freckles on his childish face, one would not think that he is eighteen years old. Diffidently, he muttered the spell for summoning Heroic Spirits over and over again. His catalyst is an old piece of paper. On it is drawn a human figure, with the words 'the perfect human' scribbled in the lower right corner.

the fifth Misa a homunculus who had been much to the surprise of the clan chosen as the last Master of the war and an expert in Electrical magecraft Her catalyst is an old pair of knives.

And the sixth who has already completed his summoning - Roche Flyn Yggdramillennia, the Master of Caster. He is likely the He is likely the youngest among those present; the thirteen-year-old was watching the scene with interest from slightly further away.

"Rare of you to leave your workshop, Roche."

Roche shrugged when Darnic called out to him.

"Well, this is a Heroic Spirit summoning. You would be lucky just to see it once in your whole life. Even I'd leave my workshop if I can see it a second time."

Where is Caster?"

"Oh, the master will be coming soon. He's a bit busy with the design of his Noble Phantasm."

"Then I must give my apologies later. But let us gaze upon this mysterious ceremony once more."

"All right."

vampire Count Dracula.

Of course, the one before them is not a vampire at all. He was a man of devotion, and a hero who ascended to the throne, no matter how small the nation may be. Especially here in Romania, where his deeds of turning back the numerous invasions of the Ottoman Empire, the Turks who have trampled over every other country, made him a great hero.

Yes, as long as he is in Romania, he has possibly the greatest fame of all - a match for Heracles in Greece, or King Arthur in Britain

After a glance at Darnic, Lancer's majestic voice echoed through the chamber.

"Now, call the Heroic Spirits who would serve under me!"

"As you wish."

With a respectful bow, Darnic then announced to the four Masters.

"Let us begin, proud magi of Yggdmillennia. With the completion of this ritual, we take our unretractable first step onto the path of war. Do you possess the resolve?"

The five Masters kept silent, revealing their conviction.

The air in the throne room changed again. The senses of the four Masters sharpened, so that even the pressure of the Impaling Prince watching them from behind was pushed aside for the time being.

It is true that the summoning of a Servant is simpler than the complications of a normal greater ritual. However, it is a clear truth that the ultimate mystery of summoning a Heroic Spirit is something that can take one's life if performed incorrectly.

They had not rehearsed this beforehand, of course, but they all spoke the incantation in harmony without a single word out of place.

With the first verse complete, the glow of the magic ward swelled. The raging prana trampled and assaulted them. But even Caules, the lowliest of the four, stood firm and continued the incantation without hesitation.

The incantation - the prana that now races within their Magic Circuits - is calling for Heroic Spirits from their Throne. It appeals to the greatest of beings whose existence is carved in myths and legends.

Three of the Masters paused at this precise moment. Only Caules, watching for this opening, continued with another verse.

The additional incantation for Mad Enhancement - with this, it is certain that the Servant he summons will be afflicted by madness to some degree. A weaker Servant will acquire the tenacious physical capabilities of a Berserker.

And now, the last verse.

Despite the torment of their rampaging circuits and the fear that they would run out of control, the four could feel some regret if only for an instant this was the degree of exaltation they felt during this ritual. However, they continued regardless - to tightly grasp in their hands the greatest mystery of all.

Uncommon monsters flowing with light, brimming with miracles, and surpassing thaumaturgy - in other words, Heroic Spirits, were attempting to enter their world.

At the same time as these words were spoken, the raging storm made the homunculi cower in panic, and Roche covered his face with his hands. Lancer, Darnic and Caster let it wash over them like a cool breeze.

And so, they manifested.

There is a blinding light coming from the complex and elaborately drawn magic ward. It only took a moment for miracles to take form. They were heroes, taking the phantasms of men as their own flesh, humans who reached inhuman heights.

The storm became a whisper, and the blinding light dimmed and faded. There are four figures standing within the circle.

One is a petite girl in a white dress. In her hand, a giant mace. With empty eyes, she slowly looked at her surroundings.

One is a androgynous-looking boy, fancily dressed. Out of the four, only he is looking at the Masters with a wide smile on his face.

One is a man with a bow in his hand. Wrapped around by a grass-colored cloak, he knelt on one knee and faced the ground.

One is a petite white-haired girl with green-yellow eyes, with stitched-up scars on her face. wears a tattered coat as a cloak over her outfit.

And the last is another man whose entire body was encased in radiant armor. A greatsword is on his back. His silver-grey hair waved gently in the wind.

"Ahh..."

There was a sound of wonder from someone in the room. Even Darnic's eyes were stolen by their majestic appearance. As thus, the Servants spoke the words of the beginning as one - the words which would uncover the muzzles to this fierce Great Holy Grail War of seven versus seven.

"In accordance to the summons, we present ourselves - the Servants of Black. Our fates shall be with Yggdmillennia, and our swords shall be as your swords."

The Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Berserker,Assassin and Caster of Black

accepted it with a troubled expression.

"Do not use your true names, Rider. Call each other by your classes."

Darnic coolly reined Rider in. "Oh right," went Rider as he nodded, and he then called out to the Servant in the white dress.

"And you?"

"..."

The Servant remained silent. She shook her head from side to side, signalling her refusal.

"Oh, so sorry. It's all right if you can't talk. Hmm... where is her Master?"

Rider looked over the Masters and zeroed in on Caules when he reacted to his gaze.

"Hey, the Master over there, what's her name?"

"Uh, well, she's..."

Despite his flustered attempts to ward off Rider, Caules could not bear his approach, the way he stared as though trying to bore a hole through him, and mumbled out her true name.

"...Frankenstein."

"I see. Well, Pleased to meet you, Fran- I mean, Berserker."

"And you?"

" We are Jack the ripper nice to meet you !" The girl greeted cheerfully

" Pleasure to meet you too Ja-I mean assassin!"

At least those two might get along well

Finally, Rider's eyes turned to the last Servant - Saber.

"So, what's your name?"

"Stop, Saber. Do not speak."

Before Saber could reply, his Master Gordes stopped him. He then proclaimed loudly to all those present, including Darnic.

"I will not disclose the true name of my Servant to any one of you but Darnic."

The entire room stirred. Selenik asked in a wintry tone.

"Didn't we all agree beforehand that we would disclose the true names of all our Servants? It's quite low of you to go back on that, isn't it?"

"I did not have this catalyst then."

Saying this, Gordes held the case closely as though it was precious. He plans to keep even his catalyst a secret.

"Is it really so important that you have to keep his name a secret, Uncle Gordes?"

Gordes nodded sourly in affirmation.

"...It would be fatal for my Servant to reveal his true name. I'd prefer reducing the number of mouths it might slip out of."

The true name of each Servant is a piece of information that should be kept secret if at all possible. However famous a hero might have been, it is often the case that he or she had met an untimely death in life.

Disclosing one's true name would reveal a fatal weakness - that is, the reason for the hero's death.

If he had been killed by poison, then simply find a way to deliver some. If he had been shot down by arrows, then open fire. If he had possessed a certain weak spot, then you need only aim for it.

Even if said reason is not tied to a certain weakness, a hero who inherits the traits of dragons would fare poorly against weapons made to slay dragons. And even if you do not by chance possess such a weapon, by revealing this information with other Masters it is highly likely that some form of countermeasure can be set up.

Naturally, there are also those Servants whose true names would bring them no trouble even were it revealed; for example, the Rider Astolfo is of this type.

Darnic glanced at Vlad, who nodded with a grin. Vlad, being the Servant of Darnic, of course knew who the Servant of Black summoned by Gordes is. As such, the prince who had been known for his heavy hand generously gave his assent.

"...Very well. We shall make an exception in your case."

Gordes gave a wide, satisfied smile at Darnic's words.

"My greatest thanks, Lord. Now, if you would excuse us."

Holding his head high, Gordes swept from the chamber with Saber in tow. Selenik muttered discontently as she watched them leave.

"Well, isn't he proud to have summoned Saber..."

"That's just the kind of creature he is."

Said Darnic with a wry smile. Gordes is the successor of the house of Musik that once boasted a skill with alchemy which rivaled the Einzbern. Then again, when the Musik family was folded into the Yggdmillennia, their thaumaturgical blood had already been in a once-famous house, it must have been no small amount of shame to have been absorbed by the Yggdmillennia. From his youth, it was drilled into Gordes by his father and mother just what excellent alchemists their great family had been. Now at the age of thirty-six, he is still unable to separate dream from reality, having been raised to be proud of what once was.

That Gordes is a first-class magus, the first for a very long time ever since the name Musik became joined with Yggdmillennia, likely played a part in the excessive pride towards his own bloodline.

Besides, he certainly is a fine magus. He was the one who proposed and managed to realize a way to manipulate the system - the division of the prana path-lines, which in this Holy Grail War might well be considered foul play.

However excellent the magi sent by the Association may be, the summoning of a Servant - and providing it prana - will pose a troubling burden. Simply by not possessing this, the Masters of Black will be able to markedly close the gap between them. Having an abundance of prana makes it possible to be less selective in the usage of Noble Phantasms, as well. The results that Gordes has shown certainly could not be ignored - such that there is no choice but to turn a blind eye to his hubris.

At the same time, the various Masters and Servants began interacting with one another in the king's chamber.

"I am your Master, please call me Fiore. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Fiore held out her arm, and Archer respectfully took her hand in both of his.

"Thank you, Fiore. Be assured that, as your Servant, I will not bring shame upon the name of Chiron."

Fiore became silent, appearing somewhat perplexed, and looked at Archer's face.

"Are you troubled?"

"Oh, no. You really are Chiron, aren't you? I know that you are, but..."

"Hard to believe, is it? As it would. By my nature, I ought not to have been summoned in the form of man." "Chiron explained

Chiron - a sage among the Centaurs, and teacher of many a great hero beginning from man and half horse, Chiron was born of Cronus, patron of the harvest and the earth, and the deity Philyra, thus being an entirely divine spirit. However, after being hit by an arrow treated with Hydra poison, he abandoned his own immortality in order to be released from the agony. It was then that he lost his complete divinity along with his immortality, and became an existence that could be summoned by the Grail.

Of course, there would have been no problem with being summoned as a Servant in his Centaur form...

"...however, one will be able to guess at my true name by my appearance alone. I hope you are not taken aback."

"Yes, of course. I understand."

Flustered, Fiore nodded. It is true that, aside from his somewhat archaic style of dress, he looked only to be a gentle man, with nothing to reveal his identity as the great sage Chiron.

However, now that she was talking with him directly, it took all the strength Fiore had not to be overwhelmed by the air Archer exuded. His presence is like that of a massive forest, its cool and clear air

"We're leaving too, Berserker. Go into spirit form, okay?"

"...aaah... uuuuh..."

With a moan of something close to agreement, Berserker turned into specks. and vanished.

Caules wiped the sweat off himself and sighed with relief. It had apparently been quite consuming for him.

Caules left the chamber, looking exhausted.

"Now, Rider, let me show you around the castle. You can't wait to have a look around, can you?"

The bashful Rider scratched at his head.

"You can tell, huh? So, well, I would prefer not having to go into spirit form..."

"...All right. I will prepare a room for you, then."

"Really?! Heh, I'm so lucky to have such an understanding Master!"

Rider danced in a circle, cheering and throwing his hands up in joyous celebration that his wish had been granted.

He had probably been concerned about the liability of the prana needed to maintain a physical form continuously. The Masters may have the backing of the Holy Grail, but continually materializing a mystery is still a fair burden.

Infact, when it comes down to it, there is nothing wrong with keeping a Servant in spirit form except for battle. But that is purely from the perspective of the Master. Among the Servants, there are also those who are more concerned with the joys of a second life, and prefer to stay in physical form while turning a blind eye to the Master's troubles.

The Servant Rider, Astolfo is like curiosity in human form. If his Master Selenik allowed him - and even if she didn't - he would fly out of the castle this very instant and indulge himself in the pleasures of the streets below.

Among the Twelve Peers of Charlemagne, Astolfo is said to be the most handsome, eternally optimistic, and completely lacking in sense. To say that the form he came in was unexpected would be a great understatement, but it is only natural for legends to become distorted; his endearing appearance was well within the tastes of his Master, Selenik..

" What do we do now Master/Mother ?"

" Misa blinked at her servent what should we do ? "

" Let's go play ! "

" Ok"

the Yggdmillennia clan have gathered the Servants of Black in their fortress of Millennia. They have already obtained every edge conceivable, but it is too early to lower their guard.

Archer and Lancer have already spoken with the Yggdmillennia magi on many occasions, spending the time by preparing measures against the enemy Servants.

Rider, despite his Master Selenik's strict control, still heads out from the castle and into the streets of Trifa below for his own pleasure. Of course, the clothes he was summoned in would draw too much attention, so he changed into a plain outfit for homunculus use.

Assassin and her master spent their time in the streets of Trifas playing with the local children and thanks to Assassin's information erasure skill everyone forgets about them(occasionally they would hangout with Rider)

As for Caster, having set up his workshop in the fortress, he has devoted himself solely to the production of golems. The workshop, formed by the Caster Class skill of Territory Creation, is more along the lines of a factory specialized in golem construction

Mordred and Shishigou are searching for a place from which they will launch their assault on the Fortress of Millennia. In a regular Holy Grail War, it would be the norm to search for the workshops of enemy magi. But that is unnecessary in this case. After all, it is already certain that they will operate from that stronghold. There is no need to search for them, because there is no reason for an enemy Master nor Servant to be outside that stout fortress to begin with.

In other words, nothing can be done without first attacking that fortress - which means keeping a distance and finding a good place to observe it first.

The fortress is located north-east of Trifas and the three hectares surrounding it are forests. Trifas is situated on a plateau rising from west to east, so one can watch over the entire city from the highest point of the fortress.

As such, Shishigou and Saber began their search south of the they were attacked

Four stone golems, seemingly modelled after dragonflies, descended upon them from all directions. Saber leapt and destroyed one, then landed on the closest one on the ground and hacked down the other two.

"Damn... there are more!"

Saber brought her sword to bear without a moment's pause. Humanoid and non- humanoid golems appeared from all around them - they must have been camouflaged on the roofs of the nearby buildings. But there were more - humans gripping halberds appeared seemingly out of nowhere and, together with the golems, surrounded the pair.

No... their faces were too expressionless for humans. In fact, their faces were all so similar to one another that they might be mistaken for siblings.

"They're... not humans. Homunculi, huh."

Saber stirred slightly at Shishigou's muttered words.

"What's the matter?"

"It's nothing... Your orders, Master."

"My thaumaturgy isn't quite powerful enough to take on those golems... Leave the homunculi to me. You take care of the rest."

"As you command!"

In the throne room of the fortress of Millennia, the Caster of Black used the flame of a Menorah to display the battle fought by that dog of the Association and his Saber of Red. The images were being projected onto the wall - like a movie - and watched by the Masters and Servants of Yggdmillennia.

All the Masters apart from Darnic looked crushed by Saber's fierce assault - one can feel overwhelming battle lust merely through the visuals on display. Despite being of short stature, the knight - a solid metal mass - sped around like a cannonball and disintegrated the golems.

The golems created by the Caster of Black are beyond comparison, possessing the power to fight evenly against low-ranking Servants. Yet they barely lasted one attack - three, at most - before being cut down.

"I suppose this is to be expected of Servant Saber."

Lancer said and Darnic nodded at his lord, unmoved.

"Strength rank B, Endurance rank A, Agility rank B, Prana rank B... aside from Luck, all her parameters rank above C. Truly fitting for a Heroic Spirit of the Sword."

In particular, the Strength rank is extraordinary. A plus is a rare modifier that allows the particular value to multiply for an instant. And then there are the Anti-Thaumaturgy and Riding

"O sage, how do you view this?"

Archer's smile was as calm as the windless sea when he replied.

"Certainly, this Saber is a difficult opponent. However, once we have determined the nature of the Noble Phantasm, I believe it will not bring us great trouble."

Lancer nodded, looking satisfied.

"Do you know who that Master is, Grandfather?"

Fiore asked.

"Yes, I have acquired information from our kin who infiltrated the Clock Tower. He is Shishigou Kairi, a necromancer and bounty hunter... a freelancer who takes any job."

"Earning money with thaumaturgy...? Filthy little peddler."

Gordes spat.

" So finally Battle approaches..."

The Lancer of Black murmured. Every Master and Servant in the room wordlessly agreed. In the depths of their hearts there is something inflaming each of them - and with this spark, they shall declare war.

It will not be long before the two sides commit and open hostilities. There is one thing that every participant of both the Yggdmillennia and the Association can agree on this great war will revolve around the fourteen Servants.

But on that day... the fate of one moved.

Everything was in indistinct turmoil.

His bared nerves - his Circuits - pumped out prana. His soul was being melted... dissolved... disintegrated. He was clearly conscious yet unable to form thoughts.

A weak 'instinct' was protesting about some great pain... but to him, it sounded like nothing more than the cries of an insignificant creature.

No recognition... no thoughts... no formulation of logic possible. He could not assert himself. He could not even say for certain whether or not he was he became self-conscious, this cycle began to repeat at abnormal speed. From the start, he was a creature born with Magic Circuits as his foundation - his ability to comprehend knowledge was naturally incredible.

Many beings passed him by... humans, comrades and monsters.

The humans would watch them without much concern. Their comrades would look at them with some faint emotion in their eyes. The monsters' responses were various: some held no interest whatsoever; some had pity in their eyes; and some - appearing very curious indeed - wanted to investigate.

But there was still no change. The cycle of 'information' and 'knowledge' simply continued to repeat.

He took this rattling, chaotic mess of 'knowledge' and organized it, classified it, piled it up beautifully - like a library. However, as he stockpiled more and more outside information, he felt as though his heart was being plucked.

Unconsciously, he turned his eyes away from this sensation and continued to collect even more information. But the more he collected - the more he understood - the larger the Fate flows... twisting and turning, straying into aberration.

One human and one monster stood before his eyes. Both were individuals who had passed before him countless times before.

The 'code' of the former was 'Roche'. He was Master.

The 'code' of the latter was 'Caster'. He was the teacher.

"Let us once more attempt the insertion of the Magic Circuits."

Roche nodded at Caster's words.

"Then, let's use the homunculi here..."

He scrutinized the contents of their discussion. 'Magic Circuits' are the pseudo-nerves necessary for the operation of thaumaturgy. They act as the stem around which the flesh of the homunculi - like him - formed. So, what is the meaning of this 'insertion'?

He felt as though there were a worm crawling on his back. There was no mistake - it was his fate to die.

With this conversation which barely lasted a minute, his heartbeat - having maintained a steady pace ever since his forging - furiously surged.

To be consumed is to be destroyed - and destruction equals death. He had known the word but could not understand it.

"Let's start with three units. Um... this one, this one and this one."

The finger pointed at him. The thought of such vivid death gripped his heart as though wanting to suffocate him. The sixty percent of himself that he had been averting his eyes from gave a solemn declaration.

You are going to die. You were just born - meaninglessly sealed in this prana supply tank - and you will now be consumed simply because someone laid eyes on you.

The pair left the room. He is certain that he has only a brief respite until death.

Despair assaulted him. This is what he has been turning his eyes away from. There was no meaning to his birth... no meaning for his existence.

And it was in that moment that Misa happened to notice that the homoculus was starting at her

she had just arrived here to relay a message to Caster and get some homoculi hearts for Jack when she happened to notice the nameless homoculus

There was a beat as Misa stared back at him before he closed it

" Is something wrong?" Rouch asked

" No it's nothing "

At that time they both had no idea about each other but just as it was a coincidence which led to Misa reincarnating in this world, it was a coincidence that led the nameless homoculus to grow an identity when he was shut in the supply tank and meant purely for supplying Servants with , these two coincidences coming together have the weight of fate to them and soon enough their paths will collide and it's impact will much more be than they both could have ever expected