Chapter 1 - Portal

"…" - Spoken Dialogue.

'…' - Thoughts.

"This is an EXAMPLE sentence." - Emphasis.

"Where the hell are those guys? I just got here and they're already gone?" Lance grasped his face with his hand, irritation clear in his voice.

The bustling sound of people's voices and footsteps seemed to drown out Lance's frustration.

Lance groaned into his armoured hand while his other hand grasped the handle of a large, bulging duffel bag, the outline of several props for cosplays visible on its exterior. Using his height to his advantage, he surveyed his surroundings once more. His eyes combed through the convention centre, absolutely packed with people in different costumes, creating a sea of heads, but despite his efforts, he couldn't find any of his classmates' familiar costumes or physical builds.

Lance thought for a moment about calling out to them, but after a few seconds of deliberation decided against it, realizing that if they didn't hear his voice over the sound of the crowd, he wouldn't get their attention anyway.

Lance absently adjusted his cosplay's dark purple shoulder armour. Since this was an anime convention, he dressed as the one character from Type-Moon that was based on the knight that inspired his name, Lancelot Du Lac. His friend was the one that suggested it, stating that with his looks and muscular build, he was the spitting image of Lancelot before his descent into madness.

A well-crafted, realistic-looking dark purple armour based on Fate Lancelot's Saber version adorned his tall figure. His naturally purple hair parted to the left and his remarkably handsome appearance attracted looks from people around him. It was also not uncommon for people around him to marvel at his elaborate costume and stare curiously at him; it did not bother him at all. Seeing his friend's hard work pay off filled him with pride and joy.

Lance thought back to the classmates who invited him. He would try calling them, but his phone was dead and one of them "borrowed" his power bank without his permission an hour ago. He looked around for an empty place to sit, his brows furrowing when he couldn't find one.

'I remember seeing a rather empty spot while we were walking around. It should only be a short walk from here,' he mused.

With his destination in mind, he made his way towards the secluded spot with large strides, his unoccupied hand resting on the handle of the Arondight prop to stop its shaking. As he walked, he noticed the attention of more people gathering towards him. A sense of foreboding grew and urged him to increase his pace.

At the same moment, he heard a shout from nearby. "Excuse me, the guy in the purple armour!"

Lance paused mid-stride and looks towards the source of the voice. What seemed to be a couple cosplaying as Kirito and Asuna from Sword Art Online wave at him.

Kirito gave him a polite smile while pointing at the camera. "Hey, man. Is it fine if my girlfriend takes a picture of us? I really like your cosplay!"

'Oh no,' Lance thought to himself, but returned the smile with a curt nod. "That's fine, but please be quick. I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Sure! This will only take a sec." The Kirito cosplayer handed his phone to Asuna. "Here, babe. Make sure the angle and lighting are good."

Kirito quickly moves to Lance's right and gives a thumbs up along with a smile towards the camera. Lance, meanwhile, puts down the bag and makes sure his shoulders are squared and that his back is straight. With the normal stoic expression that both he and Lancelot similarly possess, he looks into the camera with calm confidence.

Asuna gives the camera a few adjustments and then pulls back to take the picture.

"All done. Say cheese!" she says with a smile.

"Cheese!" Kirito says.

"…"

A few clicks from the phone later and Asuna hands over Kirito's phone, who inspected the pictures and nodded his head after a quick appraisal of the pictures taken.

Kirito leaned over to give his girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek before giving her an appreciative look. "Thanks, babe." Turning his head to Lance, he smiled and gave Lance a nod. "Thanks for the picture, man. That cosplay is one of the best ones I've seen so far! It looks so real!"

"It's no problem, but I didn't make this cosplay," Lance shrugged.

Kirito shrugged back. "That doesn't change the fact that it's a sick cosplay." He pointed at the sword on Lance's side, partly hidden by his blue cloak. "Even that enormous sword on your waist looks awesome."

Lance chuckled awkwardly, his hand unconsciously going to the hilt of the sword.

Lance picked his bag up. "It seems like I'll have to give your compliments to my friend. She's the one who deserves the praise. Alright, if that's all, I'll be going now." He turned and started walking with larger strides than before.

"Oh right. Thanks again for the picture!" Kirito called out behind him.

In return, Lance waved his hand back without stopping or slowing down. 'Hopefully, no one else asks for a picture.'

"Um, excuse me, but is it okay if we take a picture?" A voice interrupted Lance as he turned around to see a group of people without costumes looking at him with big smiles on their faces. "My friends and I were so excited to see someone in a costume like that! You look exactly like Lancelot!"

Lance paused and took a deep breath before exhaling through his nose.

'God damn it.'

Moments later, Lance finished taking a photo with other people, his hand already feeling numb from holding the sword for so long. He was at his tipping point when he encountered a tall old man wearing ornate clothes and accessories that wouldn't look out of place in a noble fantasy setting.

The old man stood with confidence, carrying himself with an air of dignity and elegance Lance had never seen before.

"Ah, a dedicated cosplayer, I see," the old man said, his voice brimming with excitement. "Tell me, young man, have you ever desired to truly become your beloved character, to experience the thrill of combat and to live a life that could only be dreamed of?"

Lance blinked in surprise, his mind struggling to comprehend the situation. "Well, yeah, of course. But it's just cosplay, right? It's all in good fun," he replied while frowning, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

As a guy who grew up with a father who he was certain worked in the special forces, he had daydreamed of using what his father taught him in actual combat. Logically, he knew that would mean being in a dangerous situation that could end his life, but the hot-blooded teenager inside him wanted to try fighting in a no holds barred scenario at least once.

The old man chuckled and patted his arm while walking past him. "Indeed, indeed it is. The foolish knight whose armor you wear is your spitting image, but have you ever thought about the significance of this resemblance?"

"Wait, what do you..." Lance turned around and trailed off as the old man had already vanished. "Where'd he go? Huh. That was odd."

Shaking his head, Lance put his sword away and started walking once again, making a mental note to avoid any more strange cosplayers.

————————————

With a heavy thud, Lance landed on the bench, his bag set beside him and sword to his left. He closed his eyes and groaned, remembering how many times someone had to pause his trip to take a picture. While he was glad to see some appreciation for the hard work his friend put into his cosplay, other times he felt like he was a zoo animal that had to stop what he was doing whenever someone stopped to look at him.

"I'm never doing that again." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'And father would be so disappointed if he knew what I was doing.'

It was hard for him to understand why so many people were not intimidated by a 6 feet tall teenager who towered over most people. While he even made sure he walked with a scowl on his face, that didn't seem to work, because people continued to want to take pictures. People were truly intimidated by his figure only when he put on the helmet that came with his armour.

When he put it on, he felt oddly complete, as if he wore exactly what he was meant to wear.

But this all wouldn't have happened if his classmates just waited for him.

Lance gritted his teeth. 'I'm giving all those assholes a whooping when I see them, and I'm keeping their cosplay props as compensation.' He nodded to himself in satisfaction as he thought about it. From what the bag looked like on the outside, it probably had quite a few cosplay props inside.

He glanced at the bulging bag beside him and, with a mischievous grin on his face, slowly opened it with a look of curiosity in his eyes.

"Let's see what we have in store here," Lance muttered under his breath as he rummaged through the bag. "Huh, I'm pretty sure I've seen this before." He lifts a metallic mask and inspected it, rotating it from side to side and up and down. Putting it down, he managed to find more similarly designed pieces until they all formed a set of greaves, gauntlets, and something else that looked like it would fit on a person's back. Lance hummed as he remembers bits and pieces of the prop's origin.

'I think this is a devil arm from Devil May Cry 4. Is it Lucifer? No, that's the one wi—oh wait—now I remember!' He snaps his fingers as realization dawns on him. 'This is Gilgamesh, the devil arm you get after beating the boss in the forest while using Dante. This should be Fred's prop. He must have left this here and brought Rebellion with him instead. Man, I remember playing that game years ago.' He smiled fondly. 'Those were good times.'

Satisfied, Lance started fishing out another prop from the bag, missing the faint glow that appeared on the lines of the props after he mentally uttered its name.

As Lance brought out the next item, he cursed when the tip of what seemed to be a sheathed dagger got caught, but successfully pulls it out after some manoeuvring.

Lance unsheathed it and, with a careful eye, inspected the knife which gleamed in the light. Etched on the single-edged blade were what he thought were runes.

He weighed it in his hands and slid a finger on the cold dark blue metal of the blade. 'It's an actual knife. Huh...' He lets out an inquisitive hum. 'I can't remember what this is, though.'

Lance further inspected the knife from multiple angles, trying to remember from which game or anime franchise it was from. It was on the tip of his tongue, but his memory failed him. After numerous attempts, he gave up with a sigh. "I just can't figure out where it came from," he muttered.

"Hmm..." Staring at the glinting blade in his palm, he pondered. "Let's test it out."

Standing up from the bench, Lance entered a combat stance with the knife in a reverse grip, one of the few his father taught him. Eyes shut, he took a deep breath before opening his eyes, gleaming with a sharp focus. He imagined he was fighting an opponent in the present. He moved as if the blade were an extension of his arm, both efficient and deadly despite wearing a costume composed of a full set of armour.

Slash. Sidestep. Parry. Dodge. Stab.

Lance felt the familiar movements taking over his body like second nature, a feeling that has been drilled into his body and mind since he first started training with his adoptive father.

Smiling to himself, he slowly brought his arm down and sheathed the knife in its place once more, producing an audible click, and revelled in the satisfaction of having honed his skill with utmost precision. It took him years of training with his paranoid military father to achieve even half of his current skill, but he was glad he did. The discipline and focus the training instilled in him still served him to this day.

Lance stared at the knife with satisfaction. "Yeah... I'm keeping this. Not sorry to whichever of you guys owned this before me," he said as he placed it back in the bag. "It's too cool of a blade to give up so easily."

There were a few more interesting props inside the bag, he even caught the glint of a but a glint of multicoloured light caught his attention.

Lance reached out to investigate the light. "Huh? What's this?"

He pulled out the object. It was a crystal attached to a hilt, emitting a spectrum of colours, each hue more mesmerizing than the last.

Lance stared at it in amazement. "This is amazing. Who owned th- Ow! What the -"

Lance felt a sharp pain in the hand holding the blade and recoiled his hand, letting go of it in the process. The blade crashed on the ground, shattering into tiny crystal particles that glowed with an eery light, spreading and covering Lance and his props, including the bag.

"Bloody hell." Lance examined his hand, covered in glowing particles of the crystal. "Hm?"

He noticed a sheen of light covering his hand and his props, slowly increasing in intensity.

"Uhhh. This can't be good." Lance tried to shake off the particles, but they stick to him like glue. "What the hell is going on?"

Lance's mind raced with possibilities, but he couldn't come up with anything reasonable. His heart pounding in fear, he knew that he needed to do something and he needed to do it quickly. But before he could think of a plan, the glow suddenly intensified to blinding levels and emerged from him and the props, forming a portal emitting a kaleidoscope of colours.

'Ah... fuck.'

A strong pull suddenly tugs on Lance, as if the portal possessed a gravitational pull many times stronger than Earth's. He held on to dear life, muscles bulging, and grabbed the bolted bench, watching as his sword and props get sucked into the portal.

"Holy shit! What the fuck is going on?!" Lance felt his grip on the bench loosening, the pull of the portal getting stronger by the second. "Somebody help me!"

Lance desperately looked around, hoping someone would hear him and come to his aid. But his cry for help was met with silence and his fear escalated as he realized that he was alone in this predicament. As fear and panic set in, Lance tried to fight the pull of the portal with all his might, the adrenaline pumping through his veins and giving him a new surge of strength.

Despite his best efforts, his fingers began to slip from the bench, and the next thing he knew, he was flying into the portal.

"This can't be happeninggggg!" Lance screamed as he was sucked into the portal, his body tumbling and turning as he fell through a vortex of colours. As he tumbled through the portal, Lance's mind was filled with questions about where he was going and what was happening to him, but he had no plausible answers for his situation. He didn't think anyone would.

Before he could think any further, Lance was suddenly engulfed by a bright light, and his vision went white.

———————————

Author's Note:

Hello, dear readers!

This will be the new fanfic I'll begin uploading while I wait for Webnovel to fix the other one. Fate/Lancelot is something I thought of on a whim after getting into some Fate and RWBY fanfics and being inspired by them. If you haven't deduced from the title, this is a Fate/RWBY crossover. Because of how I just thought of this, I don't really have a solid plan on how this will go, so I'm pretty much coming up with the plot as I write.

If you guys like it, I'll see if I can spend more time planning it out properly, but for now, this will just be a casual fanfic. As for the upload schedule, it'll be irregular for this week because I still have two tests to finish. After that, I'll see what I can do.

Anyway, point out any mistakes or errors, and as always, thanks for reading! And if you like the fanfic, why not donate some of your power stones and add it to your library? :3