Fate/Stay Alive

He Who Lived

Afghanistan, 1994.

A decrepit old man slowly hobbled around the naked standing figure of a boy that looked no older than 18. They were standing in a spartan room made of stone, more akin to a prison cell than a place someone would willingly stay.

"Hmm, yes number 26 will do," the old man croaked out to a man in a lab coat as he reached out with his hand to reveal what looked like intricate tattoos flowing down his arm.

The tattoos suddenly lit up with a dark red light, which he then traced down the number 26's body to reveal tattoos similar to his own. These, however, looked to be almost burned into 26's skin, with lines winding up and down his limbs and torso. These lines are concentrated in complex magic circles, one on each limb and the chest.

"The magic crests seem to be operating adequately," the old man spoke with obvious pride in his voice. "All five are sharing information and acting as one, as expected for a genius such as myself. Those bastards from the clocktower would never fall so low as to use these mundane methods, even if they worked so well. Who would have thought to simulate generations of magical development in just a year using these homunculi? "

"What do you mean, sir Silas?" The researcher asked in a worried tone, ignoring the old man's boasts.

The old man gave a glare before answering, "There is still too much strain on the body. Frequent use will have the product expire in 5 years or less."

"He will not be pleased to hear of this, Silas." the researcher responded.

"Worry not, this is only a first-generation product, and He seemed pleased with its performance. You Taliban will get your super soldiers as long as you provide me with my materials. " Silas answered dismissively. "Come, let us go. I must get back to my research. The product will be prepared to leave in the morning. "

As they both walked out the door and the security measures were activated, number 26's fist curled in anger.

xxxFate/Stay Alivexxx

'Damn it! My name is Chris' the homunculus screamed in his mind as he watched the wretched magus leave and the thick steel door close behind him.

Or at least he thought it was. Everything had been blurry when he had awoken in that tube under the watchful gaze of Silas, surrounded by people who looked exactly like him. But unlike the rest of his brethren, he was able to recall many things before this short existence.

He knew that he was once a relatively normal teenager and had lived a fairly easy life. He knew that the last memory of his previous life was in a car, and what that likely meant. He also knew from observing his so-called master that he was in the Nasuverse, which in truth, he did not recall too much of. And finally, he knew that he would have to escape from this place if he had any chance of living.

It had been an entire year since he first woke up in this place, and his time was almost up. During that year, he had been through and survived things he could never have imagined. Through brutal training, Chris had learned the skills of a soldier, using the advantages of his new homunculus body to its fullest. He had learned to control himself and his emotions so as to not be found out by his "master". He had walked with death and learned what little magecraft he was allowed. Proof of this was the 4 crests, 10 circuits each, that carried the magical knowledge that had been stuffed into the other homunculi.

xxxFlashxxx

Chris's entire body was on fire. The weak glow of his circuits reinforcing his body was the only thing that kept him standing. He looked towards his opponent, who looked similar to what he imagined himself to look like at the moment.

'I need an advantage! Anything! '

They were both evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat. With only the experience of the crest that Chris knew they both had to guide them, neither could take advantage of it.

"Well, they can certainly hit each other well!" A voice called out from behind the glass window facing the dusty room they were fighting in, "But we are here to train soldiers! So try and use what we provide for you! "

Just then, the two guards who were supervising the fight threw their firearms into the ring.

Chris dove for one of the guns, a rifle, but he had no clue what kind, while his opponent went for the other. They both leveled the weapons at each other. Chris's heart was pounding and his mind was in a panic, but he managed to dredge up a recent memory of going to the range with his father.

"Body position, Set. Safety, off. Aim"

The other homunculi pulled the trigger... and nothing happened.

Chris leveled his aim and barely managed to ignore the dull fear in the eyes of his opponent, "Fire."

* Bang*

xxxBackxxx

Chris shook himself out of that memory.

"Yes, just homunculi," he whispered to himself as he sat back down on his bed. It was easier to ignore the humanity that he saw in them during their last moments. It seems death is an equalizing factor for all kinds of life. Most of the time, it was easier to dehumanize them, but really it was more of an excuse.

Still, he would not allow their deaths to be in vain. He would escape this place, with the magecraft he managed to practice and even with the bomb they planted in his chest. Chris had prepared and used his knowledge in the only way he knew how.

Chris finally laid down, content to wait the remaining hours till he would have begun his escape. He absentmindedly looked at the security camera that sat as the eternal watcher of his prison.

`It will all be over soon,' he thought, 'one way or another.'