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Topic Started: Aug 24 2010, 10:37 PM (1,227 Views)
Ryo
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I can't control it!
Anything story related will be posted here.
Edited by Ryo, Aug 25 2010, 05:37 PM.
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Origin Story: The Defiant Mole

Location: Accra, Ghana
Date: August 3rd, 2010
Time: 4:00 PM Local Time

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=PYvvT8e08Dw&feature=related

“…so you agree with the plans I’ve laid out?” A gruff voice on the telephone continued to fill Malik’s increasingly impatient ears.

“Let me get this straight in my mind. I’ll be in the Grail War, facing mostly incompetent opponents? Only two of them are actual threats?” Malik responded in a tired voice. He and Mr. Blackstone had been at this all day.

“Right…you’ll get an easy win, eliminate two major threats to my plans, and be granted a wish that could propel Ghana into the world’s foremost national superpower…all of this I‘ve arranged for you, and only on one condition.”

“Wait, the two threats are also threats to you? How? And what condition? Aren‘t I already putting my life on the line?” Malik was growing increasingly frustrated with this man, who was now demanding some sort of payment.

“Ahem..the two threats are Sebastian Telfaire, wealthiest man in the world and morally against some of my…goals, and Jeremiah Duncan, a man of decent magical power and a large public influence. As for my condition, I just need you to make a few decisions on my behalf if…no, when Ghana becomes the most powerful nation in the world.” Blackstone sounded like he was well-versed in the art of evasive speaking.

“I see. What exactly are these goals of yours?” Malik continued to press his elusive “benefactor” for answers.

“That’s classified information, for now at least. Just trust me. We’ll go a long way. Anyway, I have other people to get into contact with. I trust you’ll be in Tokyo at the arranged time?” Blackstone began sounding a bit rushed, but he never lost the poisonously sweet sound to his voice.

“…fine. I’ll go along with it for now. Contact me later, please. Goodbye, Mr. Blackstone.” Malik was infinitely relieved for the conversation to be over, but was still angry at being used.

“Goodbye, and good luck with your servant summoning!”

Malik hung up, and turned to the book sent to him by Blackstone. It was the artifact he was sent, to be used in summoning a “servant.” It certainly seemed magical, as even being around it sent most people into throes of despair. The few times Malik could bring himself to open the book yielded no results, being full of some foreign language. Regardless, he packed it in his bag, and prepared for his trip to Japan.

Location: Tokyo, Japan
Date: August 31st, 2010
Time: 1:00 AM Local

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=kNZDTkPRyMk

An occultic stage had been set in Malik’s temporary living quarters, he being the main character, and the unmoving candlelit runes his supporting actors. In the middle of the stage sat the ominous book, noticeably pulsing with dark energies as Malik chanted the words of summoning.

After reaching the end of his chant, Malik stood back, gazing at the gloomy spectacle he’d created for the ritual. Anything to get more power…

A sudden loud crack erupted from the room adjacent to Malik’s, but having expected it, Malik didn’t react with any sort of surprise. He merely made his way to the room, eager to see the servant presented to him by fate.

“Pink?”

Malik was slightly shocked at the figure standing before him. As he blurted out…she had pink hair. And a primarily pink and white outfit. If not for the long, deadly looking sword she held at her side, Malik would laugh at the thought of this being a dangerous magical entity.

“Yes. Pink. I’m at your service, Master.” Saber replied almost curtly. Malik didn’t care.

“I could get used to being called Master…”

Origin Story End
Edited by gravy, Aug 30 2010, 11:25 PM.
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Night 0

"Lemme get dis straight in my mind's eye. Now you're tellin' me that no one has committed a crime in over a week? Brotha, you gotta be kiddin' me."
Sweat begins to form on the face of the police man that had the misfortune of greeting Malik. "Y-yes, that's quite right. It's been relatively peaceful these past few weeks. Now, if you'll excuse me--"
The formerly badgered police man darts away from Malik, and quickly locked the door behind him. An irritated expression formed on Malik's face, his plan stymied.

"Master, how did things go?"
"Silence. The station was of no use. Let us retire for the night, Saber."
"As you wish, Master."

Electricity was a rarity back in Ghana; even the occasionally lit building greatly impressed Malik.
"Ya know, we don't have much back where I come from. I tell you, when we win this war, I'll have all of this and more. It'll be great, I'm tellin' ya."
Receiving a simple nod, Malik returns to his thoughts as they walk down the well-lit street.

Home at last. Malik was quite fortuitous that he was able to find shelter. The home-owner was more than willing to pack his bags and leave for some sort of vacation. This was a rather small building, only consisting of two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a washroom but it fit his needs for the time being.

"I tire. Saber, I leave protection of this house to you while I rest."
"Yes, Master."

The door shutting behind him, Saber can finally breath a sigh of relief.
"This man... such bad luck in being contracted to him. He's nothing like my former master."
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Night 1

"Saber."
"Yes, Master?"
"Your sword. Do you have any other weapons?"
"Correct, I also have a whip and a bow form of Laevetein."
"Excellent. The bow, my mind is telling me will come in handy."

Bogenform.

An odd, foreign voice emanates from her weapon, with her scabbard combining with the previous sword to become some sort of a bow.

"That voice. Am I hallucinating?"
"No. That's the personality of my weapon. Pay it no mind."
"Right. I will keep this knowledge in my mind's eye, then. Very well. Saber, we move. Let us scout the skyscraper, the view will help my mind's eye form a worthy strategy."

Thankfully for the pair, the Sunshine 60 building is quite easy to find due to it's hulking size. It would be easy to spot someone else from a distance upon this perch. Encountering not a soul on the way to the entrance of the building, Malik and Saber casually fly to the top of the building.

"Saber, do you not find it wise to fly in the public's eyes?"
"Well, would you have preferred us walking through the building? Less attention this way."
"Right, right. No matter now."

Ding.

Casually, a handsome young man talking on a cell phone and an outlandish woman with a large tattoo on her left arm and a lance step out of an elevator.
"No, I won't allow this to happen. As soon as I get out of here, I'll see your ass in jail. Good bye."
"Erm, Sebastian, I hate to break the news to you... but another Master and Servant are right in front of us."
"Oh, shit. Fuck, I knew this was a really bad idea coming up here. Man, why did I listen to you on where to go?"
The outlandish woman laughs. "Sebastian, you do realize that you've been on the phone all day...right? I believe you said something along the lines of, 'Do whatever you want and I'll follow you'."

Malik and Saber stare dumbfounded at the odd couple in front of him. Malik's first thought was that they'd be a strong adversary, but on second thought...

Sebastian's Servant begins to walk towards Malik and Saber. "Please excuse my Master's behavior. He's... quite distraught at the moment. I formally extend a ceasefire on behalf of my Master. I believe it is in both of our best interests to not take up arms at such an early juncture in this war."
"Fine. I accept. My name is Malik, and this is my servant... erm, Archer. Let me think for a while, my mind's eye is telling me something."
"Heh. Very well. We'll be right over there, eying the surroundings," pointing to the opposite end of the rooftop.

____

"Saber. A great plan has arrived in my head. Are you familiar with the currency of Japan?"
"Yes, in a previous life I resided in Japan for a period of time. Why?"
"Ah, well, my mind's eye is telling me we need more money. Let us steal. I do this often in Ghana, you know?"
Saber sighs. "Very well, master. Let's go."

There's a choice amount of people still hanging around the Sunshine 60 building. However, they soon find their prey: a young man with a yellow bandanna tied around his head.

"Saber. Let us strike quickly. I will approach, you will apprehend. Okay? This plan always works back in Ghana, I tell you."
"As you say."
Malik walks over to man, trying to seem friendly. However, his naturally attitude seeps through his words, inadvertently threatening the kid. Drawing a switchblade, he lunges at Malik.

Crack!

Saber's bow hits the gang member straight in the head, immediately knocking him out.
"Hah! My mind's eye is never wrong, you know? Let's see here...ah, good, 15000 yen. Let us go, Saber, before he wakes up."

___

Back on top of the Sunshine 60, again by flying (Signum's common sense seems to be lacking...), Malik begins channeling his favorite familiar, his Earthly Spirit. The words, unfamiliar to all but Malik, echo through the air. A weak spirit materializes, semi-transparent and glowing faintly yellow in nature.
"Saber, do you see? This, this is the fruits of my labor in Ghana. My skills, I tell you, will take us to the top. Nothing will get in our way, you know?"

Yet, Signum isn't listening to Malik's delusional boasting. Her attention is focused on the residence of the Moderator, Izaya Orihara. A figure that no one can make out appears to be standing alone on the roof. Suddenly, a second figure appears out of no where and once again darts out of sight.
"...Are my eyes playing tricks on me?"
Edited by gravy, Sep 7 2010, 07:32 PM.
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Night 2

Sebastian finally puts down his phone. "Argh, bastards. I'm sick and tired of their excuses. They didn't really pay much heed to my threat. Guess they know me too well."

Turning towards Malik, Sebastian extends his hand. "Erm, I know we got off on the wrong foot. Neither of us will get too far on our own. How about a handshake to consummate a formal alliance?"

"Yes, well. I cannot answer this quite yet. Give me some time for my mind to think on it, okay?"

Every king needs his pawns. The mysterious Blackstone had previously told Malik that all of the Masters were poor Magi. Perhaps Sebastian and his Servant will be of some use after all?

"Right. My mind is set. We march to the school. Burger Town CEO and Servant, you may follow if you wish. No good, I tell you."
"Excellent, we'll see you there. Wait, what? How do you know that?"
"I know much about you, Mr. Telfaire. More than you imagine."
____

"Saber. I do not like that Sebastian man. However, a part of my mind is jealous of his power. What do you think?"
"Jealousy is quite powerful, Malik. Don't let it consume you. Or at least for the time being. Look, we're almost there."

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=8UJRCwLKspA

“Bah, magnificent. Just what I need, I giant wall of flame blocking my way.” Malik was visibly displeased with his situation, though displeasure always seemed to grace his face.

“Ah, excuse me, Master, but didn’t you want to come here specifically because the area was surrounded by a massive wall of flame?” The man’s Servant spoke in a quiet, stoic voice.

“I figured it would move or something by the time I got here, or maybe that my Servant would divine some way to bypass it for me. How foolish of me.” Malik’s Servant turned away, angry at her Master but wise enough to not show it.

“Well, with enough skill, we could get through it with only minor injuries, I think.” The pink-haired Servant suddenly said, sounding eager to redeem herself in the eyes of her Master.

“I’m a middle aged, six-and-a-half foot tall man with no athletic background. I’ll be nimble. …idiot. You go through.” Hearing the words of her Master, the Servant paced back and forth along a length of the fiery wall, looking desperately for a small opening of some sort. Upon finding an area she thought would hurt least, she took a few paces back, took a deep breath, the took a running leap into the wall of flame. An instant later she rolled gracefully through to the other side.

“…well that wasn’t too bad. Come on through, Master.” Truthfully, the pink-haired Servant was a bit hurt, though her armor protected her from any extreme burns. She wanted to give her Master a false sense of confidence, a bit of revenge perhaps…

“I’m going to regret this, and then I’m going to die.” Malik leapt through the same spot his Servant had moments ago, though with much less speed and grace. He also landed with much less skill than his companion, flopping onto the ground then proceeding to frantically roll.

“Damn blast it all, that hurt!” Despite his words, Malik also seemed relatively unharmed, though he continued to shout obscenities as he dusted himself off.

“…do no firefighters work in this town? I swear, I could run Japan alone better than anyone here could.” This time the complaining didn’t originate from Malik. A sharply dressed man and his own Servant had apparently followed right behind Team Malik, also cursing their fiery fate. Malik agreed in the sentiment that Japan needed some new rule, but thought that duty should go to himself, rather than the American CEO. They controlled enough already.

“Fancy meeting you again, fellow. Sadly I have no time to chat…business, of course.” Malik wanted no trouble, but he didn’t feel like talking, either.

“Likewise, likewise. I have some calls to make. Don’t really have time to talk with someone whose entire country is smaller than my chain of fast food restaurants.” The other Master, Sebastian was his name, walked away with his spear-wielding Servant by his side and his phone glued to his ear.

“I’d like to give that man a piece of my mind. But, no time now! My mind’s eye has been occupied, concocting another splendid plan. We shall rob again! My Servant, to my side! I shall show you once again how we do things in Africa!” Malik’s Servant groaned a bit at this, apparently having experienced his “African methods” before.

*Stop Music*

An hour passed as Malik and his Servant searched the area for easy prey. Students had to have a lot of money these days, right?

___

*KABOOM*

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch?v=-p5nDrWkM14

Malik’s bow-wielding Servant, who’d been leading the way on their search, rocketed backward. An explosion had somehow been triggered beneath her feet, one with enough force to knock back Malik, who’d been behind her by at least ten feet.

“What the HELL? Since when do schools have massive fiery walls AND bombs? I thought Japan was supposed to be nicer than Africa! What the bloody hell?!” Malik had had it. His anger clearly boiled over, and he began ranting again just as he had after being burned by the wall of fire.

“Are…aren’t you going to ask if I’m ok, Master?” The pink-haired Servant once again looked bitter as she glared up at her Master from the ground.

“Jesus Christ! Are you two ok?! What was that?! First fire, now explosions! What‘s going on?!” Unexpectedly, a student wearing the uniform of the nearby school approached the Servant and Master pair, looking incredibly worried. Malik knew an easy target when he saw one, and this nerdy-looking boy was definitely one.

“Of course we’re fine! I’m a powerful magus and great leader, and my companion here is allegedly pretty powerful as well! This explosion barely scratched us!” Malik’s words were actually rather true. Although her legs were quite wobbly, his Servant apparently survived the explosion with no injuries, besides being further burned by the powerful fire aura enveloping the area.

“Now, we can’t have people knowing you saw us here. Usually I’d kill any witnesses to my various exploits, but you, I think, I can spare. For a few thousand yen.” Malik’s voice was smooth and official sounding, yet sinister at the same time. Definitely the voice of a man who desired to rule.

“S-sure! T-take everything I have! My parents are wealthy, they won’t mind, j-just… don’t hurt me…” The student spoke frantically as he emptied his pockets, shoving all of his money at Malik. He quickly proceeded to run off in no specific direction, scared for his life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ecRxuyvPAY&feature=related

“Hmm. Mission accomplished. Get up, Saber.”
Edited by gravy, Sep 8 2010, 08:20 PM.
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Night 3

"Sebastian. I accept. The alliance."

"Ah, great great. Anyways... you know, I have a great hunch that someone is at the Metropolitan Square. Care to join us?"

"Erm, well, you see... we're kinda stuck here. That trap, it really hurt my mobility," Saber says, regrettably.

"Right, right. See you soon, then." With a parting wave, Sebastian and Lancer head out of the academy.

___

"Saber. Let's check the situation outside." Nodding, Saber accompanies Malik, with a slight limp from yesterday's explosion. They are immediately greeted by the wall of fire once again.

"This city's firefighters. Truly awful. Cops awful as well..."

A chill runs over Malik's spine. "My mind's eye is telling me something! Four figures... Sunshine 60. Bad. Very bad."
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Night 4

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=NzfRpG9JaNc

“You’ve put me on hold for three hours and you want to talk to me now? Whatever. You people do whatever the hell you want. I’m busy.” Sebastian closed his phone and threw it to the ground. His Servant still stood facing Lloyd’s, both having done little more than trade small blows.

A massive crowd had gathered around the scene of the battle, many taking pictures. Word on the street was that Izaya Orihara was somehow preventing law enforcement from interfering with the battle. Those who feared for their lives had already fled, those who remained were the thrill-seekers.

“Seems my mind was right. Quite the spectacle you’ve caused here…Sebastian.” A deep, powerful voice emerged from the crowd. Malik and his pink-haired Servant, Saber, had arrived.

“What?! Pathetic. Can’t beat me on your own, Sebastian? What’s the matter, afraid? Scared? Tch, I’ll destroy the both of you anyway.” Lloyd’s voice grew increasingly menacing, reflecting his irritation.

“Wooooohoooooo!!!” Lloyd’s hair ruffled. Something had flown at immense speeds right of the top of his head. Wait…was that a guitar?

“Calm down, Rider, get back here. Seems we’ve stumbled upon quite the brawl.” Jeremiah Duncan, yet another Master participating in the war, approached the scene. Some of the crowd that’d been watching the fight turned toward him and began to cheer, apparently recognizing as some sort of celebrity.

“No autographs, now, folks! Duty calls!” He pushed some of the adoring fans aside as he approached Sebastian. The winds seemed to pick up in the surrounding area after Jeremiah entered, causing many to wrap their jackets more tightly around them.

“Wait! You, Master! You seem…reasonable. Help me fight off this rich bastard, and I’ll save killing you for last!” Lloyd’s voice contained a hint of desperation.

“Hm? Oh, didn’t you hear? I’m a pretty rich bastard myself, and…well, I make it my policy to not fight on the losing team.” Jeremiah responded as he and his guitar-air-surfing servant took their spots beside Malik, Sebastian, and their Servants.

“Idiots! I’ll kill every single one of you! Archer! NOW!”

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=Sq5YSqzX6Jk

“Lancer! Finish that bastard off! It’ll do a service to everyone in this town!” Sebastian commanded his Servant, who nodded and entered a fighting stance.

“I’ll need another set of abilities for this…time to change up my specialization!” Lancer’s body began to glow, provoking more flashes from camera phones, the scene beginning to look like some sort of brutal red-carpet event.

“Let’s lower that manly constitution of yours, Archer!” Lancer’s hands began to emit a dull white glow. With a grunt, she pointed her open palms at Archer, who was immediately affected by the crippling spell. He felt…drained, as if his defenses were lowered. Immediately after he was hit by that spell, Lancer began preparing another, this one glowing with a sickly green color. Again, it was fired at Archer, who once again felt weakened. He felt some sort of agonizing substance running through his veins.

“Such dirty tactics from such a pretty lady? I won’t…stand for this.” Archer’s usually-charming voice sounded strained.

“Oh? I’ll use some other things thing.” Lancer cheerily said as the glow from before once again enveloped her.

“TAKE THIS!!” Lancer bellowed as she leapt into the sky, reaching a height impossible for a normal person. Her spear caught the lights of the city, the reflection making her look like a tiny star in the sky. Archer braced himself for another attack from above, but didn’t expect what was to happen next.

Instead of traveling down with her spear, Lancer simply threw it from the air to the ground. The weapon became like a hawk homing in on its helpless prey, traveling a massive distance downward in the blink of an eye.

The spear barely missed impaling Archer’s body directly, which would have certainly killed him. However, the shockwave caused when it hit the ground was immense, arguably as strong as a direct hit would have been. Archer took the brunt of the impact and was knocked back several feet by the shockwave’s force. He landed on the pavement with a thud, causing a stream of blood to begin running down his forehead.

“Think that’s all? Get up so I can hit you again!” Lancer, who’d already landed, retrieved her spear (though not without some effort). She once again charged at Archer, her weapon apparently no less deadly even after such an impact.

Archer, who’d barely managed to stagger to his feet, feebly attempted to dodge the imminent blow. Before he could move even two steps, however, the spear caught him on the side, a hit that would likely break multiple bones had he been a normal person. Archer, however, didn’t even fall to the ground.

“Hah. Guess it’s time to stop letting you win because you’re a girl.” Archer said cooly, drawing his bow.
“Ehhh?! Are you saying that girls can’t fight?” The girl riding the guitar spoke loudly and obnoxiously, drawing the attention of everyone around. She pointed menacingly at Archer, who could only whimper slightly at his misfortune.

“Archer, you idiot! Stop provoking them with things that aren’t deadly projectiles!” Lloyd shouted from the sidelines at his Servant, whose expression dropped even further. This momentary distraction proved costly, however, as Rider’s fist was already inches from Archer’s face as he turned his attention back toward her.

“Oh hell.” Archer managed to utter a small curse before Rider punched him. Her fist landed directly on the side of his nose, and a distinct popping sound could be heard.

“You little…my nose! How dare you!” Archer fumed, cradling his nose in one hand while holding is bow in the other. His expression turned serious…that was the breaking point. Literally and figuratively.

“First, you! You do not break someone’s nose!” He removed his hand from his now crooked nose and nocked an arrow in his intricate-looking bow. He had no desire to waste time in extracting his revenge, and quickly let the arrow fly. His skill with a bow was not hindered by the wind or the fact that his target was flying around on a guitar. The arrow struck true, right into Rider’s upper arm.

“Owww! You bastard, I’ll have your head for that! Jerry! He hurt your soon-to-be-wife, do something!” Jeremiah buried his face into the palm of his hands at these words.

“Stupid! Archer, pay attention for a change! Our target is that smug CEO’s servant, not that idiot “musician”! Kill the woman with the spear! Kill her or I will!” Lloyd’s shouting became hysterical. Archer sighed. His entire body ached, and now he was being called upon to kill someone. Perfect.

“Fine. Have it you way…HAH!!” Archer shouted, letting out the frustration that’d been building all day. Suddenly, the already-gusting winds in the area sped massively, reaching speeds not unlike a tornado. The few remaining civilians who were brave enough to spectate were thrown back by the immense winds, completely scattering any crowd that’d hindered the fighting.

The gusts of wind were centered on Lancer, whose tribal garb flapped wildly in the wind. Small cuts began form on her body, small enough to be invisible. Hundreds and hundreds of rips and tears covered her skin, each as agonizing as the last. Unable to bear it anymore, she cried out in pain, just as the winds began to die down. She collapsed to the floor, her breaths coming out in short bursts.

Amazingly, however, she stood up again.

“I knew you were gonna be a tough nut to crack, lady.” Archer’s voice was back to normal, calm and gentlemanly. Lancer merely grinned back, still in immense pain.

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=xAupQUUglkU

“Saber. I know now that that…Archer is most dangerous, especially in the hands of that madman, Lloyd. Deal with him.” Malik finally spoke up, steeping in front of the injured Lancer and her Master.

“Sebastian. Do not take this as a sign that I like you. It’s just mutually beneficial that I work with you for now. I have my own goals.” Sebastian shrugged at Malik’s words, happy to have allies, even if for convenience only.

“On it, Master.” Malik’s Servant pulled out her complicated-looking bow and loaded a massive arrow into it. She aimed at her fellow bow-wielder and fired. The shot was just as fast as arrows fired by Archer, despite its immense size. However, the aim was a bit faulty and pierced through a non-vital part of Archer’s body, enough, however, to make him cry out in pain again.

“Damnit, everyone’s got a bone to pick with me today. It’s your fault, Lloyd!”

“Shut up and shoot her.” Archer spit at his Master’s words. The man would be the death of him. Once again Archer nocked and arrow, once again he fired, and once again the shot struck perfectly in an unarmored spot of Saber’s body. The pink-haired girl grunted in pain, but didn’t seem too harmed.

“Good, Saber. My mind tells me that this fight is ours.” Malik showed a small hint of kindness toward his servant, definitely a first.

“…” Lloyd’s fists tensed up.

“…” His teeth grinded against each other.

“…damn you. Damn all of you. BURN IN THE FIRES OF HELL! DIE! DIE!” Lloyd shouted hysterically, unable to comprehend being beaten, unable to comprehend why he couldn’t kill them, even with a powerful servant. His hands caught fire. His eyes began to glow a bright orange…a spell.

“I’ll show you with the magic I was taught! The magic that’s carried me through this rotten life! Die! Burn!” Lloyd continued to yell as his entire body was engulfed in flames. The trio of Servants opposing him rushed to the sides of their Masters in anticipation of some large attack.

The flames surrounding Lloyd continued to grow and even started to spin. The once-bustling square had become empty of any non-magical life, thankfully enough, or dozens of people would’ve been consumed in the massive vortex.

“Witness your doom!” Lloyd once again raised his fiery arms in a conductor-like manner, and again brought them down forcefully, signaling another blazing performance. Spinning walls of flame began to sweep across the entire area, setting buildings ablaze.

“Jerry! Get down!” Rider was the first servant to react. She tackled her Master to the ground and shielded him with her body. Saber and Lancer followed suit, knocking their Masters to the ground. Not entirely graceful, but necessary.

“What is this…?!” Malik started to speak, but was cut off when the massing flaming vortex bore down upon them. The body’s of Lancer, Saber, and Rider began burning, but for now, their Masters would remain unharmed.

The flaming onslaught continued for what seemed like an eternity, but even Lloyd’s powerful magic had its limits. The vortex died down, and amazingly, even the burning buildings stopped burning. The ash remained, however, blanketing the neon-lit square in a gray, snow-like substance.

“I-is it over?” Sebastian asked to no one in particular, removing his hands from his face.

“For you? Yes. It will all be over quite soon.” Lloyd gloated, towering over the ash-covered area like a king.
Edited by Uroxin, Oct 3 2010, 06:45 PM.
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Night 5

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch?v=jJqYjL4kia8

Lloyd surveyed the destruction wrought by his hands through one eye. He covered the other eye with his ash-covered hand, unable to bear the throbbing headache that afflicted him. Frustration. Anger. Why was anything but him still alive? Who could survive that? He stared at his opponents dully. Why weren’t they blackened corpses? Why hadn’t they been burnt by his hate-laced assault? Not even one of them was dead. Not even one.

“A-Archer. Why…kill them. Finish them. Why aren’t they…stand up, damn you!” Lloyd’s voice had gone hoarse from the ash and the screaming. Archer kneeled on the ground, coughing. The poison he’d been stricken with earlier continued to assault his every nerve. Despite this, he remained conscious, but unmoving.

“Archer! Now!” Lloyd continued to command his servant, his voice only coming out in low growls.

“Pathetic. Say, Jeremiah…let’s finish this guy off. I don’t particularly like you, but no need to fight when we have a mercy kill right in front of us, right?” Malik broke the tense silence between the three “allied” Masters with a ceasefire offer.

“Fine. Would rather work with you than these other two, at least. A sociopath and a corrupt, power-hungry executive, not my cup of tea.” Sebastian showed visible signs of anger at the latter part, but did not speak up, hoping to keep the allied assault together.

“Excellent. I believe my political goals align well with yours anyway, Mr. Duncan.” Malik spoke like a campaigning politician, despite the bleak surrounding.

“As if. The fact that you have “political goals” at all goes against what I stand for. But let’s not talk about this now. We have a fight to finish.” Jeremiah’s words were harsh, but one had to give him credit for not dragging out an unnecessary argument, given the situation.

“Worthless dirt of a Servant. Look at you, making me have to run away. You sicken me.” Lloyd’s palms glowed a faint green…a sign of command spell magic.

“I’ll return and rip out your throats on my own, if I have to. And I will. Garbage servant... I ought to leave you here.” Lloyd’s final words before disappearing in a flash of green contained even more malice than they usually had. The three Masters still in the square could only stare in disbelief.

____

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=dJ3918ula8k

"Truly a pitiful sight." Malik said gravely, shaking his head. There was nothing he could do about Archer, now, so it was time to recover. He signaled to Saber. Malik had been taught some healing magics by his tribal instructors, which he'd now put to good use on his injured servant.

"Thank you, Master." Saber was her usual stoic self, though it was obvious she was grateful for the spell.

Meanwhile, Sebastian and Jeremiah, who had retreated to a back alley, argued.

"Jeremiah, come here. What was that earlier? Have I done something to you?" Sebastian was truly curious. This wasn't the first time he'd be the target of anger for apparently no reason.

"Tch, of course you wouldn't know. You corporate types are all the same. I worked in a Burger Town for a while...it was my first glimpse into how sick and corrupt capitalism actually is." Jeremiah sat against a wall of a small market as he spoke, resting.

"...it was a Burger Town. You can't exactly expect the best of conditions." Sebastian responded bluntly.

"Oh whatever, it had nothing to do with that. I saw those managers ruin lives. Regulations were a mess. They sometimes missed paychecks. You promised change, I remember. Never happened, though." Jeremiah began getting more and more worked up. Sebastian did recall telling his board to do something about the localized corruption, but got so caught up in work he couldn't keep check on them.

"Bah...damn that board. It's been the same dozen or so old guys for the past 5 years. They...argh. How has it taken me this long to notice the problem? If I get out of this alive, I'll..." Sebastian couldn't continue. He remembered the reason he joined the war in the first place...

"See? This is what I'm talking about. It's awful." Jeremiah closed his eyes. "But...I'll change it all. You'll see."

____

"Such petty disputes. Money...anarchy. All useless. The most important thing in my mind is and always will be power." Malik said aside, his Servant giving a half-hearted nod in response.

"Ugh, I'm feeling so DOWN! It's too dull here! Need a quick energy boost!" Rider interrupted any serious conversation that had been going on when she rocketed down the ash-covered street, kicking huge clouds of the stuff up in her wake.

She happened across a stray civilian who had likely been watching the huge brawl from afar.

"'scuse me, sir, I need to borrow some of your energy. Well, rather, all of it! Don't take it personally." She landed and swung her guitar at the hapless citizen's stomach, knocking him out instantly. She then walked up to him and lightly touched her hand to his forehead. The man's color drained out of him, the lifeforce being sipped away slowly by Rider's touch.

"Aha!! Much better! That guy had good vibes, good vibes!" The other war participants in the area looked at her with shock.

"Awww, he'll be alright! Nothin' but a small coma, I've seen guys get through worse." Her words were only met by more dull looks, and even a few shaking heads. Rider merely shrugged.
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Night 6

"Master, I see an old lady and her... granddaughter? No. That cannot be right. They're definitely in this war, Malik. Your orders?"
"We ignore them, Saber. More important plans to do, my mind's eye says."

Nodding, Saber and Malik continue on their trek. Now where exactly does Malik's mind's eye have him traveling to?

The shopping center, of course. Even tribal leaders have to look fashionable. No, no. Malik's plans are much more sinister.

"Ah, look. Saber, my mind's eye never lies. I knew Archer was here all along!"

Biting her tongue before uttering, "Then why didn't you have us pursue them yesterday?" Saber merely nods to Malik's assertion.

"Good. Good. Let us now kill Archer."

___

"Get us out of here, Archer!"

Grumbling, the only thing Malik can do is wait. "Saber, stand guard. That girl. She is scary." The girl's red eyes penetrate the darkness. Yet, she disappears out of sight, as if she was a phantom.

"...My mind's eye does not tell me of this. I am quite angry. Change of plans, Saber. We mug. Again. It works quite well, yes?"

"You're right."

Saber doesn't even try to argue, it's really a moot point. Better to commit the deed than to be forced into it.

___

"Ah, great. A perfect victim. Oh, I see. He works at a... 'Taagetto' it seems. Let us apprehend him."

Malik and Saber approach the man. Wearing roller blades and a red t-shirt with khakis, he seems oblivious to the situation developing.

"Yo. Listen up, home boy. I don't want no trouble. I study karate, I'm a fucking black belt. Don't fuck with me and I won't fuck with you."

Malik ignores the man in front of him threatening him. "Ah. Hello. I am Malik. This is my wife, Sabber. She is from Taiwan, excuse her strange name. Let us speak for a bit, I am not accustomed to Japan just yet."

The man falls for Malik's elaborate ploy. What a change in attitude!

"Cool man! Absolutely awesome. Where are you from?"

Malik carefully studies this man's name tag. 'Shane', is it? Malik thinks back to when he read Lord of the Rings—this guy looks exactly like Gollum.

"Ah, Shane, is it? I hail from Ghana. Lovely place. Come visit some time."

"Yeah, well... you see, I have a girlfriend and two kids. Plus... I was recently fired. I don't really have much to my name..."

Malik ponders quite rapidly, his mind's eye truly piqued.

"Yes, I have a proposition, come with me."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gK_dy5nUWA

Malik is quite craftly. He first plans to torture Shane into giving him his personal info, then hold his family hostage. Yet, fate doesn't seem to want to go with this wacky plan of his.

The sky is filled with beautiful bullets, suspended high above, truly a bizarre scene.

"Malik! Watch out!"

Saber is too late. The bullets rain down from the sky, sparing no one.

"I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!"

The bullets circle around, in every direction. Shane, being the karate master he is, avoids a fair amount of them. His sheer luck even serves him now, in the final minute of his life. A rogue bullet strikes him from behind, ending his life in a bloody mess with his skull collapsed inwards. Malik and Saber are injured, but not to the degree of Shane.

"My plans never seem to work Saber. Quite disappointing. Well, let us take his wallet, I am sure it will aid us as well."
Edited by gravy, Sep 29 2010, 09:53 PM.
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Night 7

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9iCD4E65nhw&fmt=18 (Special thanks for Serpit-chama for the song choice)

"Ah. A great change of venue. My mind's eye is quite trust worthy. Before anything else, come here, Saber."

Saber rolls her eyes. "Master... look. Sebastian and Lancer are here."

Indeed they are. Sebastian seems to be brushing his clothing off, while Lancer looks dead tired. "Saber, this will take but a moment, my friend. Come." Saber walks over to Malik slowly. Malik's fingers caress Saber's abdomen, clearly making her uncomfortable. However, his torture is shortly over, slightly healing her wounds from last night. Malik has other plans though.

"Ah. Well hello there, Sebastian. A long time, no see?"

"Yeah. Things don't always go as planned," Sebastian replies, briefly and to the point. Seems to be the best time to annoy Sebastian again, yes.

"Mr. Telfaire. Your company, how is it?"
"None of your business, Malik."
Malik grins. "Wrong. This is my business, Mr. Telfaire. You may not like it, but it is my business."

Good, he's visibly distressed. Let me delve deeper, just for fun...?

"Malik. What is your problem? I have Jeremiah bitching me out about shit from years ago, and you're talking as if you know my life story. Spill it!"

"Ah, nothing, my friend. I know much about you. My mind's eye... it never lies."

Saber's stoic attitude quickly changed into holding back laughter. "Saber. What is quite so funny?"
"Excuse me when I say this, Master, but... your mind's eye is almost always wrong. That is what I found funny."

How about a different approach...?

"My friend, Mr. Blackstone, knows much about you, Mr. Telfaire. I have much to gain from your undoing. Yet, I leave you for now. But, I will kill you. You will not stand in my way."

Ah, good. He is quite distressed. Mission accomplished. Telling Lancer to give him time to himself alone, Sebastian stomps off.

Malik grins, proud of his accomplishment.
"...Master. What was your intention in alienating our comrade?"
"Ah, Saber. I thought it would be funny. Did you not find it funny? My mind's eye... told me it would be something funny to do."

Shaking her head at his damn mind's eye yet again, Saber returns to the wall, lamenting her awful luck in being contracted to Malik.
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Night 8

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=9U7yShGvpiA

“I’m insatiably curious, Sebastian. How, exactly, does it feel? Being at the top, that is?” A familiar, gravelly voice echoed about the emptying train station. Sebastian’s gaze turned from the fluorescent-lit ground to the imposing, dark skinned man before him.

“I’d easily trade it for something less, Malik. What brings you here?” A tired frustration tinted his words gray, matching the color of the bags under his eyes.

“Tired, are you? Past few nights have been tough?” Malik paused, but his inflection refused a response. “You’re the kind of person I despise, you know that? Too weak-willed to handle power. Lucky. Unappreciative. Power belongs to those who desire it, and no more.” Sebastian’s tired expression tensed. His former comrade seemed to be opening hostilities, his angered words serving as the initial, softening volley.

“Saber, to me.” The armored, pink-haired Servant emerged from behind Malik, determination in her eyes, bow in her hand.

“Lancer, we’ve got trouble.” Lancer’s battered body stepped into view from around a corner, wielding her signature spear.

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=kQBi2IIMmpQ

“My mind predicts a difficult battle. Saber, concentrate all of your might and fight harder!!” Crackling green-colored electricity swirled around Malik’s outstretched hand, then proceeded to surround Saber, infusing her with a massive amount of power. Her usually stoic form faltered for a moment as she reacted to the sudden infusion of power. Power ran through her veins, making her whole body shake with the lust for battle. Even a small grin managed to escape.

“I don’t feel the need for such handicaps. I’ll finish you, command spell or no!!” Lancer shouted, charging at Saber with the ferocity of a starved beast. Saber attempted to back away, the underground complex barring her from much-needed range. A thrust of a spear. A dodge. Saber twirled around elegantly, easily avoiding Lancer’s ferocious strikes.

“Stop with the dodging, coward!” Lancer yelled, still madly thrusting at the pink-haired girl. One thrust parried, another outright dodged. Every miss fueled her desire to hit, boosted her precision, provoked her rage. Dodge, dodge, parry. The few remaining civilians in the brightly-lit dungeon observed with fear and amazement, the exchange like a lethal dance.

Saber took to the skies, but the ceiling was woefully low, not enough for any real maneuvering. Certainly it wasn’t enough to outrange Lancer’s massive reach. A moment’s hesitation. Land? Dodge? Counterattack? A moment too much. A hit, right in the gut. The tip of Lancer’s spear grew a deep crimson, colored by her foe’s pain. Saber doubled over, succumbing to the pain. Another mistaken use of time, more throbbing pain. Lancer struck again, this time in her lower leg. Blood once again stained the battle.

“Do not fight in such a restricting area, Saber! To the tunnels!” Malik knew his Servant could do better than this. Distance would be the deciding factor of the fight, and Saber needed more of it.

“Right!” Ignoring the agonizing stab wounds on her abdomen and thigh, Saber darted off down the train tunnel, ignoring the fact the she was flying right into a pitch-black void. Lancer quickly followed after her prey, though she was equally helpless in the darkness.

“Do you even understand what it is you’re fighting for?” Sebastian spoke as he and Malik stood at the edge of the train tunnel, their Servants gone from sight.

“Power, child. Something you have, but don’t deserve. My mind twists itself into knots over you. What could someone who has everything possibly gain from competing in this war?” Malik sounded genuinely curious, though even his honest questions were spoken in such a way that one couldn’t help but wonder about his intent.

“To get rid of it! I don’t want it anymore! I wake up every day, pretend to like the people that help ruin my life, do piles of meaningless work, then go to sleep again, alone! You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Malik! It’s awful at the top!” Sebastian, who since getting rid of his phone that night at the square hadn’t raised his voice once, began to yell. He knew he was in trouble. He knew Lancer was, as well. The only thing left was to throw his opponent off the scent, somehow make him understand.

“Fool. Some of us were born to rule over others. You are not one of them.” Sebastian bit his tongue. The conversation ended.

Meanwhile, in the dark depths of the train tunnel, Lancer continued pursuing Saber. Neither could see a thing. Despite the blindness, Lancer swung at every minor noise she heard, hoping desperately to score another hit on her foe. Instinct told her this was the climax of her story. Would she emerge the hero, or the defeated villain?

Neither Servant knew of the distance separating them from one another, which was indeed a great distance. Lancer had no hope of catching Saber, but neither was aware of the fact. Eventually, however, an end-all plan dawned upon Saber. Though she couldn’t see, some attacks didn’t require sight…

*Chickuh…ting*

Lancer heard something echoing from some distance further in the tunnel. Like a gun being loaded, followed by the sound of something hollow bouncing on the ground.

*Chickuh…ting*

Another one was loaded. Lancer began to sprint toward the sound.

*Chikuh…ting*

The empty tunnel made it incredibly difficult to gauge distance by sound alone. Lancer began swinging her spear while sprinting.

*Chikuh…ting*

Her breath became strained. She had to catch up. She had to stop the attack. Faster, faster, faster, fasterfasterfasterfaster…!!!!

*Chikuh…ting*

The fifth cartridge had loaded. Saber let her lips form another grin, if only momentarily. Lancer grew increasingly panicked, sprinting as fast as her tired legs could take her. A light pierced the previously impenetrable darkness, some fifty yards away. Certainly an attack. Faster!!!

“Take this!! STURMFAULKEN!!” Saber bellowed as she pulled back the string of her bow, a massive, magically charged arrow loaded inside. Lancer’s eyes widened in fear. Her running slowed. Twenty-five yards.

Too late.

All of the darkness in the tunnel dissipated. A massive, flaming arrow sped down the length of it. Less than a second passed before the energy-infused arrow struck Lancer, piercing straight into her flesh, pinning her against one of the subway’s walls. The missile crackled for a moment, giving Lancer one last instant to curse her fate, before violently exploding, shaking the entire tunnel, possibly the entire city.

*end music*

“Seems the climax has been reached.” Saber walked up to Lancer’s charred corpse. It was unrecognizable damaged. The only indication that the body had belonged to the person called “Lancer” was the still-lingering traces of magical energy. They would not remain for long.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=08sKNXcJXjg

“LAANCERR!!!” Sebastian sprinted down the tunnel, Malik not far behind. They’d been sprinting for quite a while to reach their embattled servants, and finally caught up. The portion of the tunnel was still lit up by the fiery aftermath of Saber’s attack. Sebastian saw no trace of his servant.

“My mind’s eye tells me you’ve won, Saber. Good. Let us leave this trash.” Malik spared no time for sympathy, or even parting words. Saber nodded at her Master’s command and together they traveled back through the tunnel. Sebastian fell to his knees. He couldn’t even feel Lancer’s presence anymore…Saber must’ve…she consumed…there were no traces.

A dry sob. A broken dream. This was the end of the road…and so early. Or was it? Despite the short time Sebastian had competed in the war, it’d taught him quite a bit. Jeremiah opened his eyes to the corruption he’d been blind to for so long. Lancer helped him put down his phone and enjoy the moment. Even Lloyd showed him what kind of person he may have turned into without Burger Town, without the security of a job. Would he have even wished for the thing initially wanted, going into the war? Probably not. The world was bigger than him. Desires apart from his own existed.

“May you rest in peace, Lancer.” Sebastian had never been a religious man, but said a short prayer for his companion. If he lived through the rest of the war, he’d take the knowledge he’d gained, and be a better person for it. He wiped a tear from his eye, stood up, and walked toward a different future, no longer desiring to change the past.
Edited by gravy, Oct 3 2010, 06:46 PM.
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Night 9

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=rBdrlg2zVH4

“Should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one to kill that bastard’s servant…to kill the bastard myself...” A dry, bitter disappointment dyed Lloyd’s words. The man was genuinely angry at himself. This was his war to win, yet he’d spent so long running away and hiding? Unjustifiable. The next kill must be his. He cared little for whom.

On the hunt for an opponent, Lloyd and Archer walked through the park. A chilly, uncomfortable breeze blew over the place, agitating Lloyd’s mood even further. Archer, who’d long since lost his optimism and charm, walked stone-faced behind his master, robe blowing in the wind.

“Figures. No one here.” Disgusting. Even with his Servant’s superhuman sight, he could find nothing. No one to kill, no one to give him the one thing he’d always desired. “We’re leaving, Archer. Come.”

“Wait!”

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=KaB_UXnMMQw

A small girl appeared behind the pair, accompanied by her Master. Lloyd recognized them from the first night of the War, the team he’d thoughtlessly ordered to be fired upon. The girl also looked much like one he’d encountered before, identical except for the color of her eyes. Back then, they were red. Now they’re gold. Servant Assassin. The power to move unseen, unrivaled skill in killing. Undoubtedly the best class in these wars. Maybe Lloyd wouldn’t kill the first team he encountered…

“Hey, hey, wait. I don’t intend any trouble! I admire your skills, especially yours.” He nodded to the small girl. “I think it would behoove the both of us if we forged some sort of alliance, and killed everyone in our path.” Archer shook his head. One moment, Lloyd was rambling about killing no matter who the target was. Now he was offering an alliance…?

“No.” Assassin’s Master said plainly. Lloyd’s face contorted into a menacing glare. Was everyone going to be this hostile?

“Good judgment, Assassin.” Another voice…that bastard, Sebastian. Upon seeing him, Assassin entered a battle stance.

“Calm down, calm down. Thanks to you, Berserker, and Saber, my Servant has been eliminated. I’m no longer a threat.” His voice sounded a bit hollow, but didn’t contain the despair Lloyd had suspected it’d carry. Even after his Servant’s death, he managed to find some sort of peace with himself? Sick. Disgusting. Lloyd hated him.

“Talking about us behind our backs, hm?” Yet another voice entered the conversation. Malik, accompanied by his stoic Servant. Lloyd once again attempted to sway a gullible team to his side. Maybe this time it would actually work…

“Ah, Malik. I have to say, I deeply regret the nature of our past encounters. I know you offed Lancer, and I envy that. Shall we team up and finish the entire team?” Lloyd could certainly sound sincere, at least…

“I’ve studied politics whenever I’ve had the chance. I know political doublespeak, and that’s what that was. You’re a nuisance.” Malik harbored no sympathy for the disturbed man, seeing him as another obstacle to his goals. Lloyd once again grew more desperate.

“…Sebastian? You’ve been cut off at the knees. Come with us…we’ll keep you alive, at least for a little longer…” Sebastian didn’t respond with words. The piercing glare was enough. Lloyd shuddered…ingrates!!

“Assin. He keeps trying to make friends. It’s giving me a headache. Get him.” Even Bob’s commands to battle were simple. Assassin nodded in return and gave her master a short smile before dashing toward Archer, who once again sighed at his fate. Constantly being attacked…and always by women. How many female Servants were in this war?

*thump*

Archer’d been expecting the girl to attack with her knife, as she had before. Not this time. Inches away from her target, she’d changed direction. In almost an instant, she was behind him. Archer staggered. A simple punch from behind…hurt like hell. He spun around and grabbed the small girl by her collar. Her eyes widened with fear as he lifted her off the ground, then used his immense strength to hurl her away. Her tiny frame skid across the pavement inelegantly, but she seemed unharmed.

Archer wasted no time, however. As Assassin stood up, an arrow sped past her cheek, leaving a large gash. Had it been two inches closer…

“What the hell?” Archer knew he’d lined up that shot perfectly. Somehow the girl deflected it, even if slightly. There was no time to investigate, however. Like pink lightning, Saber was upon him, arrow already nocked and pointed straight at his neck. Archer avoided instant death by turning his head at the last moment.

“Your Servant is quite skilled, Lloyd. Unfitting for a weakling like you.” Malik mocked from the sidelines, prompting Lloyd to again contort his face with rage.

“Get them, Archer! NOW!” His screams went unheard, his Servant still busy dodging a series of magically-charged arrows courtesy of Saber. Archer’s swiftness was unmatched, but not even he could keep up a fight forever….but, could Saber? He had to end it now.
While Saber loaded another arrow into her high-tech bow, Archer scrambled to do the same, and faster. He wasted little time getting the flying girl in his sights, but he still wasn’t quite fast enough. She’d done the same. A tense moment. The two bow-wielding Servants stared each other down, each waiting for the other to make a move.

*Thwip*

Archer was first, but not my much. The dueling Servants’ arrows passed each other in mid-air, both traveling at immense speeds. They both reached their targets. Archer was struck in the abdomen. He grunted and doubled over in pain, ignoring that his arrow managed to strike Saber in roughly the same area, knocking her out of the air. She landed with a thud.

“Saber, to me. It’s not over yet, not at all.” Malik sounded supremely confident, likely the cause of having a few unofficial “allies” to help him out. Saber was injured, but not enough to stop her from following orders. She slowly took to the air and flew back toward her Master. Meanwhile, Bob and Assassin were already raring for more.

“…and next time, hit him in the crotch. That always hurt me a lot.” Assassin nodded fervently, apparently taking her Masters “advice” quite seriously. Even Sebastian seemed to be preparing for another round, observing Archer closely while adjusting his glasses.

Lloyd looked at all of them with contempt. He felt a strange, nauseous sense of déjà vu. This was just like last time, at the square. And, like last time, he’d prevail, despite the odds.
Edited by gravy, Oct 3 2010, 06:46 PM.
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Night 10

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=ec4ewiGBUaA&feature=related

“Seems the police in this town aren’t completely useless after all.” The scarred, stained payment proved Frederica’s lead. Sounds indicating a fight permeated the air. This had to be it. The end of her days of fruitless searching was upon her.

“Come, Berserker. Today you shall…play.” The old woman’s tiny Servant lit up with joy. A grumpy Master sure, but a fun one! They approached the ongoing brawl slowly, cautiously, in an attempt to gather as much information as possible before joining in. At least, that was Frederica’s intent. Berserker would be perfectly content with rushing right in right away.

Seven figures. Three of them locked in battle, likely the Servants of the other four. Frederica recognized them. Saber, Assassin, Archer, and the lone former Master of Lancer. Her shallow, strained breathing sped up. She remembered. Archer…that meant…Lars! She could finally save her son from his terrible fate, from this miserable war, from this terrible world!

She began to step forward to say something, to welcome him back into her life. Wait. A flashback. Her son cursing his boredom. Cursing his mother’s hobbies. Showing no despair when being taken away. …she’d been an awful mother. She’d let her own despair affect her son. The ignored calls. The resentment. He likely wouldn’t even recognize her, let alone accept her. A difficult decision…but a necessary one.

“Archer. Archer’s Master. I offer the hand of an alliance to you. It seems like you desperately need it.” Frederica made no attempt to reveal her motives. She only prayed he didn’t recognize her, at least not for the time being.

“What? Help? Are you serious?” Both Lloyd and Archer turned with shock toward Berserker’s Master. The other combatants watched the exchange intently. What kind of rotten, terrible person would want to help Lloyd?

“Yes.” Short and simple, Frederica. He doesn’t know. He won’t. Not now.

“…fine. Wait…do I know you?” Lloyd thought he recognized the voice, but the heat of battle, the desperation to live… his mind was clouded. The old hag’s voice, though…familiar. No matter now, at least.

“No. I don’t associate with hoodlums, or anyone, really.” A pain in Frederica’s chest. It had to be done. It was necessary.

“Tch, fine, hag. If you want to help, attack the black guy over there and his annoying pest of a Servant.” Lloyd showed no signs of appreciation toward his new ally, besides not outright attacking her. Those who knew Lloyd, though, knew that no hostilities was a sign of appreciation, at least from him.

“Of course. And mind your manners.” What kind of upbringing did her son have? He seemed so…angry. So distant. Society…Canada…no. It was her fault. He’d never have been in that situation if she…

“Berserker. Kill that pink-haired girl. Do whatever you’d like to make her die.” Berserker darted about the air with glee. Finally, a real fight! Someone who’d actually resist! The resistance was the best part, after all.

“Are you two done talking tactics?” Malik spoke up. “If so, then I’d like to formally declare my intent to be the first wrench in you poorly-though-out plans. Saber?”

“Right.” Saber said stoically, pulling out her bow once again.

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=0sRVDjMbv3k

“Schlagenform!” A mechanical voice sounded from Signum’s bow. The weapon began to transform, splitting itself into a scabbard and an impossibly long whip. Saber brandished the weapon with unmatched expertise, despite its length.

“I don’t want to be left out either, I think. Assin? Let’s help out pinky.” Bob entered the battle with as determination as his simple words could convey. Assassin nodded sternly in return, and began to walk toward Archer and Berserker.

“Hand Sonic, Version One.” Blue particles emerged from beneath Assassin’s sleeves, forming a thin, silver blade.

“Hm. Guess I’ll join the power-up party, too.” Archer suddenly released a massive surge of energy, unlike any his opponents had seen from him before. The Masters in the area were all pushed back by the force. The middle-aged man’s body radiated with energy, even seeming to return him to his usual swagger.

“Aha, this is great! I feel young again!” He could no longer hide his grin. The power surging through his body…it was amazing.


“Shut up and kill them. Actually, wait. I’ll help a bit first.” Frederica couldn’t help but smirk at her son’s treatment of his Servant. Like mother, like son. Or something. Lloyd once again held up his hands, which signified to everyone that something bad was about to happen.

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch?v=inSEpnvr9j4&feature=related

He threw down his hands with an angry shout. Like he’d done at the Academy, he encircled the entire park with massive pillars of flame. His opponents collectively groaned, remembering their encounters with the spell with no particular fondness. Good. Let them suffer. The pillars split and spread, forming a massive net-like pattern around the area.

“How subtle.” Sebastian said sarcastically from the sidelines, sarcasm hiding fear. Lloyd was dangerous when he was surrounded.

“I’ll kill you next, worthless rat.” Lloyd instantly returned to insults after channeling his spell. “Archer! Go! NOW!” Before Archer could act, however, a cacophonous sound filled his ears. Assassin stood before him, her handblades crossed over her heads. A massive wave a sound emanated from where the blades crossed, targeting Archer. The man fell over with pain, covering his ears.

Assassin was quick to take advantage of her opponent’s prone position. She charged at him faster than a world-class sprinter, her blades aiming to kill. Archer still crouched, disoriented by the auditory assault. Like a flash of silver lightning, Assassin blade struck. Red liquid poured from the massive cut she made on his ribcage, staining his purple robe red.

“Tch…bastard.” He’d never cursed someone so young before, but…she wasn’t his target. Not now. He turned his attention toward the skies, to Saber. She glared back, still surrounded by her massive whip-like weapon. She’d definitely be dangerous. He’d finish this now.

“Archer. Go away. You’re worthless. I’ll finish Saber myself.” Lloyd began conjuring a ball of fire in his hand. Archer grabbed his wrist, stopping him. Lloyd ripped away his arm, furious at his Servant’s mutiny.
Archer was unaffected, looking back at his Master with cold determination. Lloyd backed off. His Servant was serious this time.

“It’s my turn.” Archer sounded like some sort of Hollywood action figure as he leapt into the air, straight toward Saber. He expertly dodged through the barbed-wire-like chain sword, perfectly homing in on the armored girl. Mid-flight, he collapsed his bow into a blade, and began spinning. His attack…it completely defied the laws of physics.
Saber tried desperately to dodge the man, but his grace in the air somehow beat hers. Archer put all of his energy into his short blade, and swung for all he was worth. The impact when the his weapon struck Saber’s armor could be felt by all the participants present. It wasn’t over yet though. Using the force of his initial blow, Archer somehow managed to fly even high into the sky, switching his weapon back to a bow as he traveled.

“Target locked on…” He loaded his bow with a single arrow, but one that glowed with an aura much like the one that surrounded Archer. He looked down at his target. Their eyes met. Saber’s held nothing but contempt, Archer…winked.

“CRISIS…RAAIIIIIIINNNN!!” Archer bellowed. The single magic-infused arrow split into dozens, each arcing outward before locking on a diving toward Saber. Saber flew frantically about, desperately trying to avoid them, but Archer’s magically-assisted aim was perfect. It was hopeless. Every single arrow struck Saber at various angles, shredding even through her armor. Bits of blood-soaked clothing floated to the ground.

Lloyd looked at the spectacle with amazement. Finally, that idiot had done something useful! The wait had paid off! Saber was badly cut all over her body. She barely managed to stay afloat. Archer landed with grace beside his Master, the glowing aura that surrounded him gone.

“So?” He asked Lloyd, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Whatever.” Frederica could tell her son was impressed, but knew he’d never admit it. He did so well…now it was her turn.

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch?v=DR0j0y983pA

“Berserker, look. She’s bleeding!” Frederica’s Servant had been paying little attention to the fight, instead distracted by the “pretty fire” surrounding the area. The word blood, however, got her attention.

“With pleasure!” Her voice was far too cute for what she was agreeing to. She flew up to the injured and heavily-bleeding Saber, stopping her tiny frame directly in front of Saber’s face. She looked at her prey mockingly. A large, childish grin spread on her face. Saber only replied with dull eyes, the pain numbing her reaction.

“You seem sad. My sister always said sad things should be put out of their misery!” Again, the girl’s words betrayed her appearance. She pulled back a clawed hand to attack, and in the blink of an eye, swung it forward. A massive gash was torn in Saber’s armor. How could a bare hand…

“Oopsies, not enough. I guess we get to play a bit longer then!” Berserker began to retreat.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Saber finally spoke. Though she was covered in scratches and bleeding from nearly everywhere, her voice resounded with confidence. She swung her sword arm downward. The massive sword-whip began to move, blocking off Berserker’s escape. The little girl flew around, looking for a way out, but at every turn she was met by the winding blades.

“Die.” The whip stopped moving defensively, beginning its assault. Berserker fled as quickly as she could from the massive weapon, but had no hope of outrunning it, of beating Saber’s determination. The tip of the blade caught her in the back. Berserker shrieked in pain, finally sounding her age. Her body spiraled to the ground, drops of blood falling in its wake. She resumed hovering before hitting the ground, however, apparently not too badly hurt by the strike.

“Argh! How is she still standing?! Did Lancer not hurt her at all? What incompetence!” Lloyd screamed, once again raising his arms. Sebastian shook with anger, but anger quickly turned to fear. He was once again summoning the massive flame vortex.
Ever Master in the area called their servant to their side. Everyone but Sebastian, at least. Frederica looked upon the man that was her son with awe. Flame began to erupt from his body, spinning faster and faster, seemingly taking a life of their own as the spread across the area. Ah…he was going to hit his newfound allies as well? Frederica covered her face as the flames descended over her.

It didn’t burn. Didn’t even hurt. He’d somehow made the spell ignore Frederica and her Servant.

Sebastian stood up and surveyed the area. He had no servant to protect him and took heavy damage from the attack, but somehow remained alive. He had to get out of here. He had a future to forge.

Saber was the next victim to stand. Lloyd’s face twisted with hatred. Somehow. Still. Alive.

“I am proud of you, Saber. You and I together shall unite the world, after we deal with these…nuisances.” Malik was uncharacteristically proud of his Servant. A faint hint of a blush appeared on Saber’s face, but only faint. She stepped forward and readied her whip once more.

The fires Lloyd had produced still circled the area, but the ones from his flaming tornado had dissipated. The park would see no break, however. A surge of magical energy flowed through Saber’s chain-length sword, then the entire length of it…caught fire. She swung it expertly, its blade flying through the sky like lighting. A massive arcing swing. A hit.

All at once, Archer, Berserker, and even Sebastian were sliced by the flaming whip. Saber’s assault wasn’t to be shrugged off. Sebastian doubled over in pain, and the two Servants didn’t look much better.

“Why me? God damn, my suit…you people are insane!” Sebastian shouted, his composure completely gone.

“Heh. Excuse my Servant. My mind did not think that she’d hit you as well.” Malik mocked. Sebastian’s expression began to match Lloyd’s, both utterly frustrated by their opponents.

Suddenly, the area heated up once again, a side effect of the flaming net Lloyd conjured. All servants present suffered minor burns. Fire was apparently the flavor of the day.

“Oh man, are you kidding me? Way too much is happening today. My brain can‘t take it.” Bob said dully.
Edited by gravy, Oct 3 2010, 06:47 PM.
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Night 11

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=H-mvCDNi0jQ

Everything was coated in black. Charred leaves, charred buildings, charred people…even the darkened sky looked burnt by yesterday’s fighting. Bob looked about the destruction with disbelief. He was a simple man, sure, but such wanton destruction…anyone would be disheartened.

“Mack,” He pointed to Malik, the only indication that that was who he intended to speak to. “Let’s not fight anymore, ok? You too, Sebas. Let’s all be friends, ok?”

“While my mind cannot say anything about what I’ll do in the future, for now, I will accept your…ceasefire.” Malik somehow understood what was offered to him. Sebastian didn’t reply. He wanted out, after all. Away from this fighting. Back home, so he could spend his days doing something meaningful. The well-being of so many others rested on his shoulders…

“I’ll…think about it, I guess…” A half-hearted response. On the other side of the brawl, Lloyd and Frederica spoke.

“Look granny, I appreciate the help, but it’s in my better interests to leave now. Mop these guys up for me, ok?” The way Lloyd addressed Frederica…if he were anyone else she’d have strangled him on the spot. But for him…she’d finally have the chance to clean up after her son, after all these years…

“Fine. But I expect my kindness to be repaid in full.” She didn’t really expect anything, of course. But he couldn’t find out now.

Sebastian overheard the allies’ exchange. He stared intently at Lloyd, watching his every motion. From the corner of his eye, he saw it. Lloyd’s hand glowed Command Spell green once more. He signaled for his Servant…no. He was escaping again, teleporting away! Sebastian shook with rage. No! Not again! Parasites like Lloyd shouldn’t be allowed to live!

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=miqbg1wsgM0

“Like hell I’ll let you do thaaaaat!!!” Sebastian charged at the black-haired man, fist ready. His run turned to a sprint. Not again! Lloyd turned toward Sebastian and smirked. His smugness enraged Sebastian further. He picked up his pace. He was moving faster than he’d ever moved in his entire life. Stop him! Stop him! The light green glow fully enveloped Archer and Lloyd. Lloyd’s grin widened.

“Sorry, Sebastian. No time to talk!! Archer and I must escape from here!!” One foot! One foot was all that separated Sebastian’s fist from Lloyd’s face. From wiping that smug grin off forever. From actually leaving a legacy in this damned war!!

But it was too late. Sebastian stumbled and fell, his punch going through nothing but air. Lloyd had disappeared. Again. The defeated Master just stared. Where was the justice in the world?

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=7O18lICr-5Q

Berserker and Saber stared each other down. Of course, in Berserker’s case, the staredown involved making funny faces at her opponent. Bob and Assassin had retreated to the sidelines, unwilling to be the cause of further destruction. Sebastian, too, stood on the sidelines, looking immensely frustrated and scribbling something onto a piece of paper.

“Saber. Since it worked so reliably last time, I’ll have to ask you once again to stop holding back.” Malik spoke with a calm determination. His arm was once again surrounded by bolts of green lightning, which then arced toward Saber. The pink-haired woman’s body filled to the brim with power, as it had in her fight with Lancer. She hoped this fight would end the same way.

“Berserker, the same. Stop holding back, girl!“ Berserker’s small body, too, began crackling with green-colored lightning. She floated around and cheered, enjoying the power she was given immensely.

“Before we go, since we’re friends now, I’ll help you out a little…” Bob pulled out a paper bag. After a second or two of fishing around inside it, he pulled out a flashbang. Assassin wore a face of shock. Where did he come across such a thing? This town…

Bob threw it at Berserker. Everyone around was surprised he had thing, let alone that he knew how to work it. It exploded with a blinding flash, prompting everyone to cover their eyes. Berserker was blinded by the flash. She cried out in anguish…then in anger.

“It is fine, child. You needn’t sight to use your skills.” Frederica was uncharacteristically assuring. Berserker nodded in return, but at a shrub, not her Master.

“Saber, before you start… here.” Malik knew his Servant would be useless in combat with so many wounds, no matter how strong she was. He focused on a bit of shamanistic magic he’d learn in his homeland, then lay his hands on his Servant. Instantly, her wounds started closing, leaving behind only dried blood as a scar of her battles.


“…why don’t you guys just get this over with already? Here, I’ll help…” Sebastian tired of waiting for the fighting to start. As an incentive he began casting his ultimate spell, a bounded field that drastically increased the efficiency of everyone inside it. The Masters and Servants in the park felt…different. Not exactly energized, but…it was hard to describe.

“How kind of you, child. I guess since no one will be needing much energy to cast spells, I’ll take it from them myself.” Frederica erected a bounded field of her own, one Bob and Sebastian recognized as an energy-draining field. Just as everyone earlier felt the effects of Sebastian’s spell, they now felt the negative effects of Frederica’s. Nausea swept over them as the energy was ripped from their bodies. Frederica laughed.


“Bogenform, activate!” The mechanical voice from Saber’s weapon spoke once more. The massive, whip-like sword contracted once again to the shape of a regular sword. Saber combined it with the scabbard, and the weapon once again became the shape of a bow.

*click…click…click…click…click…*

Five mechanical clicks sounded as Saber loaded five cartridges into her bow. The fight started greatly resembling hers with Lancer, though this time the tables were turned on who was more injured than the other. An arrow glowed brightly in her bow, which was drawn, pointed at Berserker, and ready to fire.

“Not so fast, lady! I see you now!” Berserker declared, one tiny hand in the air. A line of fire appeared out of thin air above her hand, growing until it formed the shape of a mighty sword. Saber’s eyes widened at the sight…though it was forged from fire, the shape of the conjured sword greatly resembled that of her own. Could it be…there were two legendary…?

“Hyyaaahhh!!!” No time to think. Berseker hurled her flaming sword like a missile toward Saber. She had to fire now, or it’d all be over. She hastily aimed past the incoming sword and at the small girl before firing.

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=YxXkZzJUDh4

The magical arrow traveled much more quickly than the flaming sword. Not a second passed before Berserker was struck by the missile, the impact and subsequent explosion blowing her out of the sky. Her flaming projectile remained, however. Saber, who’d taken her time firing, couldn’t dodge it in time. As the arrow had exploded on Berserker, the flaming sword violently burst into dozens of smaller fireballs which hurled themselves at the other occupants of the park, Assassin and Sebastian. Assassin dodged most of them. Sebastian… took a grievous wound.

“Kill him, you two…he’s worth nothing. He’s a stain on this world…kill him before he can do any more evil…” Archer’s last breaths were used for these words. Kaho looked upon the dying man with a mixture of emotions, pity the most prominent.
Edited by gravy, Oct 3 2010, 06:51 PM.
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Night 12

The black sky over the park began to lighten. Ash stopped spewing from the battle below, the fiery net gone, and the fierce battle mostly over. Malik looked to the horizon, relieved that the fires subsided. Even the mana-draining field seemed to be gone. This was probably for the best, he thought. His Servant had fought hard, but was certainly beginning to show wear and tear. A great leader knew when to advance...but he also knew when to retreat.

"Hey guys, what's going on here?" Jeremiah entered the area, accompanied by his pink-haired Servant and an odd-looking blue robot.

"I have no time to stick around. Don't...mind...our rudeness. Saber, get us out of here immediately!" Malik gulped as he activated his last remaining Command Spell, which covered him and Saber in a soft green light. In an instant, they were teleported away.

___

They arrived in a familiar location--Raira academy. It was certainly less...destroyed this time.

"Well, there goes my last Command Spell. This means you can leave if you'd like, Saber." Malik sounded utterly professional.

"I have no intention of leaving your side. We'll see this through." Like Master, like Servant.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Thank you, Saber. You should rest up."

"Of course. I'll enter Spirit Form. If you need me, say the word..." With that, Saber became incorporeal, a way for Servants to heal quickly. Malik once again looked to the horizon. He'd made it this far...there was planning to do.
Edited by Uroxin, Sep 18 2010, 11:57 PM.
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Night 13

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYl1hLAPoRc&feature=related

Yet another day of rest. However, Malik can't exactly complain about this outcome. They barely survived their last encounter with Berserker and Archer. Saber's death must be prevented at all costs; all three Command Spells that he had been granted have been spent already. He must push forward and grasp his dream with Saber or have everything crumble beneath him. Attempting to salvage this bleak situation, Saber is recuperating in spirit form. So far, the gamble has worked. Not a single Master nor Servant is in sight, prompting Malik to relax, if but only for a short while. Snapping out of his thoughts, he returns to the task that's at hand. The summoning of an Earthly Spirit requires deep concentration. Freeing himself of his thoughts, the spirit materializes. Wiping off his sweat, he returns to his thoughts.

Malik walks over to the closest window, staring at the partially obscured moon. Malik thinks back on the past two or so weeks. Two Servants have died already--Lancer and Archer--and Sebastian has died in battle. Despite his animosity towards Sebastian, Malik did hold some regard for the empire that he had created. A strange way to idolize someone, to say the least.

Malik grins. He's survived two weeks, and Saber will be at full strength soon enough. He's gone too far to back give up now, he and Saber must push forward and grasp the Holy Grail. Filled anew with confidence, he drifts off into a light sleep.
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Night 14

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=a3r-OG3I3js

Kaho’s eyes met the ones of the man before her. He was large and imposing. A foreigner. His eyes were piercing, yet calm and calculating. A rival. An enemy.

“Pleased to meet you, sir. My name is Kaho Shiramasa. I’m afraid I’ll have to be your opponent today.” Kaho cursed herself. She always froze up and acted unnaturally polite around adults, especially males. C’mon, Kaho, you’ve fought worse. She lied to herself. Never before had she actually fought a man with such a large magical signature. It was generally her goal to befriend those types, instead of fighting them.

“My, my, what’s going on here?” A gruff, familiar voice. Kaho spun around, breaking the firm lock Malik’s eyes had on hers. Jeremiah, Rider, and their blue robot companion approached. Seems the local school would never stop being a popular gathering place…

“Oho, a lone Master? Didn’t expect you to be such an opportunist, Kaho. Need me to lend a hand?” He was friendly, as he always was. Kaho’s face began to redden.

“N-no! Yukiko and I can handle this ourselves…” She had to prove herself. She didn’t need the help of others for this. Well, except Yukiko’s help…but that really didn’t count! Malik began to laugh, a deep, gravelly chuckle. Kaho turned back to him.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, her previous politeness swallowed up by embarrassment.

“How old are you, girl? Do you consider yourself an adult?” He spoke like someone’s father would when giving a scolding.

“I have no obligation to tell you anything, but yes. Though I do still live with my parents, I consider myself fully an adult.” Malik laughed more at her words. Kaho grew increasingly flustered…what was his deal? Caster noticed the frustration on her Master’s face, and put her hand on her shoulder. Kaho looked down and gave her Servant a small smile.

“Anyway, we have no desire to keep talking. You’re wide open without your Servant! Yukiko, do it!” Kaho seemed positively energized. Caster stepped forward and held out her hands, then moved them in an intricate fashion. A semi-transparent being materialized in front of her, something almost angelic. The creature conjured a flaming orb of energy, then hurled it at Malik.

He didn’t even blink.

Instead, an orange-tinted, semi-transparent familiar emerged from behind him, and took the missile for him. The attack completely ripped apart the ghostly figure, killing it, but it absorbed the attack entirely nonetheless. Malik once again began to laugh.

“Do you know why I am amused? In my mind, there is one thing that sets an adult apart from a child, and that is their ability to rely on others. You foolishly turned down help from Jeremiah in order to prove yourself worthy? Pah. It only proved you unworthy. The first thing one must learn on the path to adulthood is how to be humble, even if it’s faked. People are your greatest resource. Learn to use them.” Kaho felt as if she’d been slapped. She’d been such a fool. Malik’s words pierced her heart and filled her with doubt.

She turned to Caster, who still gave her a reassuring smile. Of course she would. She turned to Jeremiah.

“It’s no problem, Kaho. But he’s right. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, no one will slight you for it.” His words were kind, but realistic.

“Eh. Not like we really WANT to help you, anyway.” Rider stuck out her tongue. Kaho’d actually learned to tune her out over their past meetings.

“…thanks, Jeremiah. I’ll keep that in mind.” Kaho once again looked to her Servant, this time not with doubt, but with determination. Malik still stood, confident as ever, but they’d take him down. They just had to rely on each other, and on Jeremiah. Together…they could do it.

____

“I never could have predicted the sheer property damage this war would bring about.” Izaya sighed as he walked through the park, Erika at his side.

“I like the atmosphere of it, really.” She sounded cheerful as she looked about the charred environment. Izaya groaned.

“Of course you would. But no one else will, and there will be cleanup everywhere. It doesn’t need anymore destruction.”

“So what are you saying then?”

“Well, duh. West Gate Park is now closed for the purposes of the war. The map will be update to reflect it.”

“Hmm! So if a murder were to happen here, it would be a closed-circle mystery?! How exciting!” Glee filled the young girl’s voice.

“Yeah, whatever, I guess…” How troublesome…
Edited by Ryo, Oct 3 2010, 07:03 PM.
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Night 15

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=3-nVQ7Ew4WE

“Saber. Let us show these children what it means to truly accomplish something. What it truly takes to grasp victory.” Malik spoke to an empty space beside him, though it did not stay empty for long.

“Of course.” Saber stepped from nothingness into view. Kaho retreated slightly. She hadn’t expected his Servant to be with him…it was a full-blown fight, now.

“We’ve caught them off guard. Good. Waste no time.” Malik slowly raised a finger and pointed at Kaho. Saber took flight and dashed toward Kaho, not planning to hold back.

“Aha, Jerry, it seems they’re ignoring us for now. Lemme go do something?” Rider asked Jeremiah, who gave a noncommittal nod. He was deep in thought, staring at Malik. Rider shrugged, and flew off. Her target was a young-looking schoolboy who’d wandered across the bout. With a large grin, but without a word, she flew at him and smashed his head with her guitar.

“Successfully opened!” She said cheerily, fist in the air. Not far from her, Caster was being assailed by the flying Saber. None of her furious swipes actually managed to strike, but Kaho could see Caster becoming more strained by the assault. She couldn’t stand it, letting Yukiko do all of the work on her behalf. The guilt began to grow and react with Kaho’s ability as a magus, becoming a tangible aura. Her powers wouldn’t let her stand around and do nothing.

“Jeremiah. I’ll be needing help with this.” She’d turned to her ally, who grinned in response. It was the first time she’d sounded so confident.

“Rider! C’mere, we’re getting involved!” He motioned for his Servant to come to his side, then raised his open palms toward her. The air seemed to surround Rider’s body, visibly becoming denser.

“Ah, Jerry, this feels so nice! What do you want me to do?”

“Just…wait, for now. I have a plan.” Jeremiah suddenly became more serious. Kaho glared at him…so much for help whenever she needed it. Maybe Malik was wrong.

“Fine, stand there. Yukiko! These guys are playing hard-to-get! Go ahead and use ‘that’!” The bright, white aura continued to emanate from Kaho as she commanded her Servant, who gave a sincere nod in return. Once again the young, black-haired girl called forth her angelic companion.

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=M-PSm9zLJAA

“This area belongs to the Sun Goddess now!” Caster shouted, prompting the white-colored being to release a searing wave of energy. The sky reddened, matching the uncomfortably warm breeze that began to blow across the school’s ground. The heat was unbearable to all but Caster and Kaho. The blue robot who’d been accompanying Rider twitched, emitting a handful of sparks. Another twitch. Another. Suddenly the person-shaped robot simply…stopped functioning, and fell to the ground. Rider grew furious.

“Those bastards! They killed Canti! And we’re supposed to help them?! I refuse it!” Caster flinched at the yelling. She hadn’t meant to…

“You idiots! Why don’t you give us a bit of a warning before burning us to a crisp?!” Jeremiah shared his Servant’s anger. Caster turned in shame, but Kaho placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“No. You did the right thing. Both of these teams will be our enemy now.” She declared sternly, eyeing both Malik and Jeremiah. The aura that’d surrounded her began to concentrate onto her gloved fist, though the magic’s glow didn’t match the brightness of the determination in her eyes. She charged toward Jeremiah and readied a punch.

“Not my Jerry you witch!” Rider flew by just in time to spare Jeremiah’s face from a beating, instead taking the attack herself. For a non-Servant, Kaho packed quite the punch. The Master’s momentum didn’t cease; this time, Malik was her target.

“Your advice sucks!” She shouted before throwing the punch. Saber appeared much as Rider had, however, and intercepted the punch. The attack packed enough strength to send the armored girl flying backward.

“Think that hurt me, girl? I’ll make your Servant pay for you trying to hurt my Jerry!” Indeed, Rider air-surfed toward Caster, her flying guitar transformed into something of a weapons platform. With a mad cackle, Rider pressed a cartoonish red button, and the weapons aboard the guitar began to fire. Bullets, missiles, even tiny shuriken all assaulted Kaho’s servant, cutting her and leaving small burns all over her body.

“Once again, Saber. With feeling.” Malik’s Servant knew what he was referring to. It was almost like her signature move at this point. Five cartridges loaded into her high-tech bow with a clanking noise, and the arrow once again glowed with overwhelming energy.

“Sturmfalken!” In an instant, the arrow traveled from the firer to the target, exploding violently upon impact. Caster was thrown back like a toy by the attack.

“Yukiko!” Kaho ceased her assault on the enemy Masters and dashed over to her Servant, who was now covered in small burns and scratches, visible beneath her highly torn clothing.

“Don’t worry about me, Kaho…look. What’s going on over there?” Caster’s voice was strained, but she was alive. Kaho turned to where her Servant pointed. Jeremiah and Malik were arguing?

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=_qXnJnFGZ4Y

“I apologize, Malik. There are…better offers out there.” Jeremiah grinned, his eyes filled with some sort of sick pleasure. Saber walked to him, and stood by his side. Malik just stared in disbelief. Abandoned for such petty reasons. It was true. Honor no longer remained in this world. To think he’d come this far to realize that.

“Saber, please. Reconsider. What happened to before? Weren’t you going to stick with me until the end?” Malik sounded desperate. Saber began to answer, but Jeremiah interrupted.

“Sucks, doesn’t it? Your types are all the same. You build up a massive wall of law and power, and hide behind it your entire life. I’m here to tear that wall down. There’s more chaos in the hearts of men than you’d like to think.” Jeremiah’s harsh words stung. Malik felt a wave a nausea overcome him. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.

“Power is what holds this world together! Without order, mankind would wipe itself out! You’re too young to understand! You don’t know the first thing about the harshness of our world!” Malik talked and talked to try and forget his forget his fortune, to try and turn it around.

“Oh, stop your rambling. Power should belong to every man. Order is an illusion invented by the cowards of the world. I’ll see to it that the illusion is broken through.” Kaho couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d heard Jeremiah’s songs about freedom and a bit of anarchy, but…was he serious? What were Saber’s goals in this?

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=GwlMSrzeolg

“A betrayal of that magnitude…unbelievable. I couldn‘t think of betraying you, Kaho! I‘ll make them see their mistakes!” Caster picked her battered body off of the ground and called forth her angelic companion once again.

The being raised its hands and conjured a halo of flame, which quickly exploded with growth and washed over the entire area with flame. The ground turned black as the waves of fire traveled over them. Everyone in the area was once again assaulted by the heat, the flames not discriminating between Master and Servant. Malik fell to his knees from both the mental and physical pain. Jeremiah was covered by his two Servants, but still felt the burn.

“Sorry, Kaho. I’ll have to eliminate you, now.” Jeremiah said calmly.

“Oh? Aren’t unexpected things common in an anarchists’s world?” Kaho grinned. Though her Servant was battered, she felt she still held the moral high ground.

Jeremiah felt the same.

Malik…didn’t know anymore.
Edited by Ryo, Oct 3 2010, 07:04 PM.
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Night 16

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=PYvvT8e08Dw

“Your point of view is all off, you know? A few people get hurt here and there, and you automatically blame “the system”? Isn’t that the easy way out? Don’t you realize anarchy will only hurt more people?” Kaho talked to Jeremiah, hoping to avoid further fighting.

“Ah, Kaho. Didn’t expect you to be one of those people that thinks everyone is fundamentally bad. Such a negative view of the world, hm?” Jeremiah stood with his arms crossed over his chest, flanked by his two pink-haired, flying Servants.

“Certainly there are some good people in the world, but there are also some bad! Ignoring that is just closing you eyes to the truth!” Kaho stood in front of her Servant, who kneeled on the ground, wincing in pain. The last fiery attack she made, on top of all the beatings she’d received from Saber and Rider, were almost too much for her to bear.

“Of course there are bad people in the world! And you know where the most powerful ones are? The government! People like Malik, here, just want in for the power! To control others! Those are the ones you have to watch out for!” Jeremiah spoke with incredible confidence, not doubting his words once. One could tell he wasn’t faking his passion. Kaho looked down and closed her eyes, and let out a long sigh.

“I don’t have the time for this…you’re hopeless. I guess I can’t judge an album by its cover. Come on, Yukiko. We’re getting out of here.” Kaho took her Servant’s hand, which began glowing a light green. Jeremiah instantly knew that she planned to teleport out with a Command Spell, but something important needed to be said first. He put his large hand on Kaho’s shoulder.

“Go ahead, run away. But eventually, you’ll have to face the facts. Chaos is the only thing that makes sense! Order is self-destructive! Just give up, please! It’ll be easier that way, I swear!” Jeremiah didn’t want to have to fight her to prove his point. Maybe she’d realize before it was too late…maybe he wouldn’t need to fight anymore.

“Get you hand off of me.” Kaho said harshly. The green glow then flashed to life and enveloped the pair. In the blink of an eye, Kaho and Caster were gone. The oppressive, burning aura disappeared as well.

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=NmvsE2FNypY

“Dammit! Of course they’d run away…we gotta catch ‘em, Jerry!” Rider tugged at her Master’s collar, urging him on.

“But…how?” Jeremiah gave the girl a confused look, losing some of his seriousness now that Kaho had left.

“Just shut up and hurry! New girl, come on!” Rider began flying, dragging Jeremiah along with her.

“W-wait! If we’re doing that, we need to bring Malik, to keep an eye on him!” Rider rolled her eyes at Jeremiah’s request.

“New girl, quick! Pick up yesterday’s trash, we’re bringing him too!” Saber somehow understood what Rider meant, and picked the still-shocked Malik up and threw him over her shoulder.

“What the hell is this?! Put me down at once!” The disgraced Master yelled, feebly slamming his fists on his previous Servant’s back.

“Ok, this is gonna sound nuts,” Rider began, “But we’re gonna jump into that guy’s head, ok? Trust me, it’ll work!” By “that guy” she meant the student she’d hit in the head with her guitar previously. Jeremiah prayed she wasn’t delusional, but…he had see the victims of her head-smashing attack do some crazy things.

“A-are you sure?” The usually stoic Saber sounded nervous and unsure.

“Yes! Go!” They approached the still-unconscious schoolboy. Rider let go of Jeremiah, and with an exaggerated diving motion, entered the boy’s head. She…disappeared. Jeremiah’s jaw dropped at the sight, as did Saber’s.

“Well…let’s go, then.” Jeremiah shrugged. It was with a shot. He stuck his hand out toward the boy’s forehead and touched it. His finger went right through.

“Jesus Christ, this war…!” Jeremiah gulped, then took in a breath. C’est la vie…

Amazingly, the large man’s entire body got sucked into the boy’s forehead. He felt a pull at his abdomen and an intense sensation of vertigo, but in a second, he rolled onto what felt like pavement, right under Rider’s feet.

*End Music*

“Fun ride, eh?” She punched Jeremiah’s shoulder as he recovered. Unbelievable. He’d even emerged from the same place he entered, a hapless citizen’s forehead.

Moments later, Malik and Saber “arrived.” Malik continued rambling unintelligibly about something or other, and Saber looked dazed.

“I don’t think the young man we entered through is gonna make it…” Saber said solemnly.

“I know. They never survive that!” Rider replied with a grin.

*Later…*

http://www.youtube.com/watch/?v=M37Sm9s_CWo

*Pause for large inappropriate opening measures to song*
*wait for the piano*

“Well she’s not here,” Jeremiah sighed, “Good guess, though, Rider.” The guitar-riding Servant frowned. She thought the dojo would be Kaho’s favorite spot…

“I’ve been thinking, Rider, about this war.” Jeremiah sat down on a nearby bench and began talking.

“Oh? What kinds of thoughts? Romantic thoughts?” Rider looked deep into Jeremiah’s eyes. It sort of creeped him out.

“No…that IGM guy. Izaya. Why are we listening to him, anyway? It’s not like he controls the grail, right?” He sounded more thoughtful than usual.

“Mm, I guess not. Wanna do something to him? Something…painful?” Jeremiah grinned at his Servant’s question. She knew him well.

“Well…you know what else I hate? NASA.” Jeremiah seemingly changed the subject, but Rider understood what he meant, somehow.

“Aha! Ok, I’d be happy to! Hyaa!!!!” With a shout and exaggerated arm motions, the pink-haired girl invoked some sort of power. Saber wondered what exactly her new ally was doing, but figured it had to do with the sky, since Jeremiah and Rider were both looking upward intently. She looked up as well. A tiny sparkle caught her eye, probably a shooting star. Wait, no… It grew brighter. Almost like…wait, was it coming closer?

“Make a wish, Jerry!” Rider threw her arm around Jeremiah’s shoulders and smiled. The “shooting star” was actually a small satellite that Rider’d commanded to fall on one of her civilian N.O. Channels. Whatever the hell those were. A whistling sound could be heard as the fiery mass descended upon the city, targeting none other that the IGM’s office.

“What the hell are you children doing?! Mass property damage? Countless deaths?!” Malik stumbled upon their attack a second before the satellite crashed, driven to rage by their lack of responsibility.

“It’s anarchy, man. Get used to--” The last of Jeremiah’s sentence was drowned out by a cacophonous crashing sound. The satellite struck right outside of the IGM’s office building, causing a massive explosion that could be seen across the entire town, even in the next. The newspapers would love this one.

“Hmm. Think we hit anyone?” Rider asked after the dust settled.

“Pfft, with your aim? I doubt we hurt a fly.”

___

Izaya felt like he could almost cry. A satellite? A god damn SATELLITE?! This war was testing his patience.

"Sir? You wanted to see me?" His secretary walked in. Izaya spun around in his chair.

"Ah, you're still here? I gave all the staff a day off, you know, for mental trauma and such?"

"A-ah...it's fine. I mean, the building wasn't even hit, so..." She was certainly diligent.

"Well someone's getting a pay raise. Anyway, make sure everyone knows Raira Academy is closed. Oh, hey, I rhymed."

"R-right..." The secretary bowed and quickly left the room.

"Wonder where that Erika got to?" Izaya wondered to himself.
Edited by Ryo, Oct 3 2010, 07:04 PM.
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Night 17

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcBSKvhLIpU

I should leave this place. I stand no chance against Berserker, let alone Rider or Saber.

Using Berserker's confrontation with Jeremiah and Rider as a distraction, Malik slips out of the Dojo unnoticed. Though it pains for him to run away, he will surely die if he stays. He can't let his dream die here...even if it had previously wilted. Even wilted flowers can spring back to life, right...?

Back to the beginning. Or rather, where he started: the Police Station. Back when Saber was by his side. Where did Malik go wrong with Saber? He had always thought he treated her with respect. Perhaps she did not exactly care for the deeds he had her do...?

Opening the door to the Police Station, Malik spots the same dimwitted man that he encountered over the last time he came here. Upon seeing Malik, the police man shudders and tries to walk away.

"Wait, wait. We need to speak, friend."

The police officer stops dead in his tracks. He knows he can't very well ignore a concerned civilian, but this is him.

"H-hello again. What may I do for you?" the officer says tentatively, hoping to not be subject by another angry outburst from this man.
"Do you have information on criminal activity? I am curious."
"Yeah, sure, here it is."

Quote:
 
*A civilian was found dead around the premises of the Police Offices a couple nights ago.
*A civilian was found dead at Izaya Orihara's complex last night.
*A middle aged couple was mugged at the Sunshine building.


"Very well. I bid you farewell."

___

Malik wanders back outside, not wanting to stick around in the stuffy Police Office. The air is pleasantly cool, much different than the climate back in Ghana. Unpleasant thoughts once again fill Malik's mind. His servant has abandoned him. Victory is near impossible at this point. Yet, Malik can't give up... not yet. Not until he seizes victory with his own hands.

His thoughts are cut short, noticing the sky filling up with fire. It begins to rain down, mildly burning Malik in the process.

"What was that!?"
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Night 18

Malik was once again introspective. He felt hopeless, yet hopeful...somewhat. There were certain people who could wish the world to doom with the grail, but others...he expected something more benevolent. And if they were to win, then he'd at least be able to go back home, and work his way up through the ranks the old-fashioned way.

"Ah, officer. Same thing as yesterday, anything new?" The officer had almost become a familiar face to Malik after all of these meetings. He had a knack for remembering faces, anyway.

"Of course, sir."

Quote:
 
-A civilian was consumed at the Police Station several nights ago.
-A civilian death was reported at the Izaya Orihara's Office 2 days ago.
-Two civilian muggings occurred at the base of the local skyscraper yesterday.
-A civilian death was reported at the Abandoned Warehouse today.


"Thank you, sir." Malik was grateful for the information even though most of it was the same as yesterday. The first thing a leader must realize is to rely on his subordinates, no matter what. No man could work alone. Though, without Saber...Malik was as close to alone as it got.

He cursed his fate, lightly, then continued into the twilight.
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Night 19

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dy2tZ4Hshbs

Malik's feeble attempts re-contracting a Servant has led him to the Sunshine 60 building, figuring it'd be a ideal vantage point. However, this isn't the case, not a single suspicious person is in sight. Cursing, he heads back to the stairs before a disembodied whisper reaches his ears.

"Who... who is there?!"

Moaning. Crying. A conundrum: there is both someone here... and no one here. In other words, the spirit of the recently deceased. One of Malik's specialties, at that.

Malik closes his eyes and shuts himself off to the world. To be able to normally hear the dead is remarkable in itself, but to be able to fully communication with the dead is truly astounding. This comes from years of finely honed training, a lot of diligence, and this rare talent to be born with to begin with. Yet, it was not handed on a silver platter to Malik. It was a struggle to decipher the dead's thoughts with minimal clues. However, by his mid-twenties, he was renowned as the best spiritualist in all of Africa. His reputation led to a later successes in his life and provided for the foundations of Malik's grand plans of the modernization of Africa.

The information that Malik receives is relatively useless. It compounds on the knowledge that he gained at the Police Station. However, knowledge is power. Perhaps this information will come in handy in the near future. Grunting from the exhaustion, Malik enters a light sleep in preparation for the coming day.
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Night 20

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVy9wQYV5-8&feature=related

Yet another night at the Sunshine Building with no results. Perhaps his eyesight wasn't as good as it was when he was younger. However, his vision isn't failing him now. Malik bites his bottom lip as the two responsible for Saber's betrayal approaches him.

No, not Jeremiah and Rider. It's not only but Kaho and Caster. Perhaps Saber would not have betrayed him if they weren't in such an awful situation with both Caster and Rider gunning for them? Malik's anger is not very well masked, his face contorted in numerous ways no one thought possible.

"Come to kill me, haven't you? Fine, be my guest!"
"Not today, Malik. We come in peace."

Malik shakes his head. Peace? They are the ones that tried to kill Malik in the past, the ones that put Malik into such an awful position to begin with. He cannot accept their answer. Not today, not tomorrow, he will never acknowledge them. The delusions of a man who has seemingly lost his dream are powerful indeed.

"Right... well, we'll leave you alone for now. Caster, we have some business to attend to."

Malik regains his composure with the brief departure of the two young girls. Their absence gives him a perfect opportunity to summon an Earthly Spirit for protection. While they may come in peace today, the human mind can quickly change on the drop of a pin.

Malik's mind's eye speaks to him. A crazy plan, perhaps, but... it may work. But as they say, let sleeping dogs lie. Springing the plan that's come to mind right now will surely get him killed.
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Night 21

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1BBtTYa-2NI&feature=related

Another disembodied whisper, one of the recently deceased. Malik cannot very well ignore his pleas, he resigned himself to sticking around the building for the rest of the night. Contrary to popular belief, whispering spirits aren't really scary. They're more annoying than anything, saying the same words over and over. Tonight is no different.

"Damn that little girl... Damn that little girl... Damn that little girl..."

Helping the spirits of the recently departed is a part of Malik's job description. It's more of an obligation than a service he does willingly. Closing his eyes, he shuts himself off to the rest of the world. The whispers become more audible, and the spirit of the dead becomes slightly visible. Malik has transcended the plane he is normally bound to, a realm between the living and the dead. His visits last no more than 5 minutes long, but that's generally long enough to resolve problems.

"You. What is your problem?" Malik's says, startling the spirit. Quite the reversal of roles.
"That fucking kid! She killed me! Damnit!"

This behavior is typical of the recently deceased and to be expected. The abrupt end of your life can be quite shocking, leaving the spirit in a sort of state of Limbo. The most Malik can do is try to resolve the dead party's problems.

"I'll ask again. Your problem, what is it?"
"Some girl gouged me through the heart! She was inhuman, I tell you. Red eyes... some sort of school girl."
"Ah, it sounds like Assassin. Do not fret, friend. You died for a worthy cause. I must leave. May you find peace."
"PEACE!? I'm fucking dead! I can't find peace!"

However, his protests fall on dead ears. Malik exits Limbo, his role fulfilled for the time being.
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Night 22

The whispers of the dead continue to badger poor Malik, yet he has no resolve to try to help them. Any explanation he could give them would surpass their feeble understanding of the great war they had been unluckily gotten involved with. As Malik stares off into the skyline blankly, a figure appears behind him. Judging from the tone of the voice, it's probably Assassin's Master, but... his voice sounds slightly different. More refined, even.

"Excuse me? I'm told that your name is Malik. Ah, where are my manners... My name is Matthias Schmidt. I'd like to formally offer you an offer of an alliance."

Malik doesn't even bother to turn to face Matthias.

"I am conversing with my mind's eye. Bother me no more."
"Right... right. I'll leave you to your own devices for the time being."

Such sadness has pervaded Malik for so long. The likelihood of successfully contracting a new Servant is astronomically low. Malik has finally realized this rudimentary fact, as depressing as it may be. Ignoring this 'Matthias' is just a facade, as it seems that Malik has lost the only thing that used to drive him: hope.
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Night 23

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zf6T7DCR5cU

"My mind's eye is finished thinking. I accept your offer. But now leave me be, I tire of your presence."

Matthias scratches his head, put off by Malik's rude behavior. Matthias nevertheless extends his hand, their alliance shortly consummated.

"Well then... it was a pleasure meeting you, Malik. I'm going to go look elsewhere and put this damn war to an end. Til next we meet, Malik?"

Malik simply grunts in response, his way of bidding farewell nowadays. It's a wonder that Matthias didn't attack him immediately after his rude greeting, but the deep-seated depression has continued to cloud Malik's mind. He keeps replaying the events at the High School over and over. What could he have done to kept Saber's loyalty..?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-wcX-ptx3E&feature=related

His thoughts are immediately cut short, with Frederica and Berserker drawing near. A feeling of anxiousness sweeps over Malik, butterflies arising in his stomach. It's been a long while since he's felt such raw emotions, the catalyst being this young girl, looking no older than 8.

Malik knows the wrong word will incite aggression. Perhaps silence is the best answer to their arrival...? Wrong. Very wrong.

"Great! Just who we were looking for, Berserker. Attack him now!"
"As you wish, grandma!!!"

In times like these, Malik is truly glad that he's talented enough to summon an Earthly Spirit. His earlier boasting to Saber was quite over the top, his skills really end there. Perhaps he's a failure after all...? No! No time for doubting himself!

"Ha! Very well, try to kill me will you!"

Berserker flies through the air, flying back in forth as if taunting Malik. Malik keeps his composure. He can't die, not yet! His plan... it can't end now.

The little girl finally stops playing around. She turns her attention to Malik, poised to strike. She lunges, ready to claw at his face. But Malik's trusty Spirit blocks the attack, holding up barely from the extremely powerful attack from Berserker.

"Hah. Truly weak, I tell you."

Malik's words are a hollow threat and nothing more. He's in a really bad situation, hoping to salvage something out of nothing.
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Night 24

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IO9AKnb1vww (Umineko Chiru Ep 7 portrait spoilers. Great song if you don't click on it for minimal spoilers, though.)

Five Years Ago

Today is a relatively sunny day, the sky devoid of clouds. Beautiful weather for summer--not too hot, and not too cold. Perhaps it is a sign from the Heavens of things to come, for things to get better. The false sense of hope is shortly smashed into little pieces and finely ground into dust. Cursing himself for getting his hopes up, reality sets in. Panyin is still dying, holding on by only a thread. His wife is not long for this world, her cancer spreading and sapping her strength. At the drop of a pin, this paper thin thread will be severed, her life extinguishing with it.

Despite efforts in Shamanistic medicines, Panyin's cancer hadn't entered remission. The poor inhabitants of this small town in Ghana could never imagine to afford a visit to a hospital, let alone afford health care. Only a miracle could save her now. Unfortunately, miracles do not exist. Romanticism only exists in fairy tails: this is a irreversible fate. Malik knows this very well, yet continues to hold onto this fragile hope. The most Malik can do right now is to stay by his wife's side in her fading moments and to guide her into the after life the best he can.

"Malik. It's time...it's time for me to go. Please, don't cry Malik. Don't be bitter over my passing, it's simply my time to go. I'm at peace with it, and you should as well," Panyin says, while clearing her throat. Just uttering those words has worn her out, sweating profusely. The once beautiful woman looks like a banshee, unrecognizable to former acquaintances.

"You cannot savor life to its fullest if you hold grudges, Malik. Despite struggles you may face, surpass them while relying on others! Continue leading our people to greatness! And always remember, I love you Malik. And I will always be with you."

Panyin quietly passes away a few moments later, her face composed. She was truly at peace despite her grim future. A stream of tears emerges down Malik's face. Sadness turned into anger shortly, and the anger into rage. Her final words were quickly forgotten, his grief intolerable. Malik stampeded into his makeshift home, barricading himself from the world.

It wouldn't be for a full year until he broke out of his cocoon. Seemingly revitalized, Malik spoke of grand visions of Ghana's ascent to power, believing his late wife's words to be urging him onto greatness. How wrong was he.


Present time

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOq7ZNTPVug

To escape this hellish nightmare of a War, to start a life anew; these thoughts raced through Malik's mind as he ran away. Before long, Berserker finally gave up her pursuit. Malik was in the clear, yet his legs didn't stop. He ran towards his future, pursuing it as if his life depended on it.

Malik arrives at the now familiar building that housed the war's moderator, Izaya Orihara. While he did not particularly care for the man, shortly he will prostrate himself in front of him to gain immunity from the war's cruelty. Humility was never Malik's strong point. He had been born a headstrong leader, strong in his convictions. In other words, his stubbornness was unrivaled to anyone else's, as well intentioned as they may have been.

"This must be done. I... I have no regrets," Malik says, while staring up into the Heavens. Perhaps he was talking to Panyin, hoping she would hear his ramblings. Indeed she did, yet this will always remain ambiguous to Malik, who is unable to transcend into the world of the dead completely.

Malik steps through the front door to the complex only to be greeted immediately by the dreaded moderator, as if he had been expecting him all along.

"Hello there, Malik," Izaya says with a grin. "Come to resign, have you?"
"Y-yes. I revoke my claim to the Holy Grail. This... this is not the future my wife wanted for me. I must atone for the sins I have committed."
"Very well. Care to stick around and watch the grand finale? It'll be entertaining!"

Malik shakes his head. He has five years of his life to regain, five years of his life to fix what he has wronged. He's needed back in Ghana, not to spectate the waning hours of this War. The things that Malik did earlier in this war were truly despicable, things that he would have never considered before.

"Well then, see you later. I hope you don't mind me not offering you a ticket here. I guess I didn't plan on anyone actually living. Funny, huh?"

And with this exchange, Malik's stay in Japan has ended. Buying a one way ticket to Ghana was expensive, but feasible with the mugging he and Saber had done previously. Yet another dastardly task he bestowed upon Saber to do. Perhaps if he had been kinder Saber would have never left his side. However, if he had never lost Saber, he would perhaps have lived his life in such a petty way. Only caring for himself, building an empire for himself... this wasn't the way to go about it. He will build Ghana into a place worthy of admiration with the help of his peers and perhaps a bit of luck. It won't be easy... but he will never give up. This is what Panyin wanted for him, definitely.

Good Ending
Edited by gravy, Oct 5 2010, 07:56 PM.
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To Change the World

The past few months have been nothing short of a whirlwind of events. It began as sudden entrance into a deadly Holy Grail War, leading to his subsequent defeat and his humble yet logical resignation from the War. Yet, life goes on. To be able to take the small pieces of good from a seemingly bleak circumstance and turn it into a positive—that’s the true sign of greatness. Yes, Malik has finally realized his true calling. While in essence his ‘calling’ of sorts does not diverge greatly from his original Modus Operandi, it indeed does have some distinct differences.

~~~

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2YlMn_63Tqc&feature=related

Malik’s childhood had been nothing more than a living hell. Tribal warfare encompassed his life, with newly created insurrections forming every few months. Being able to communicate with spirits was a minor inconvenience in light of his surroundings. Even on the outskirts of Ghana, Malik and his parents were not spared from the cycle of anarchy. Malik’s realization of his nation’s state of being prompted change. In time, Malik began teaching himself the basics—writing, simple arithmetic, and modern history among other subjects that privileged children take for granted. This was not an easy task. His parents, no, his entire family had gone most of their lives uneducated and illiterate. Within time, Malik finally had learned the basics of English through assorted ravaged books that he bought at the local bazaar. By 18, Malik had turned himself into an astoundingly bright young man.

Yet, fate is quite fickle, as it proved time and time again to Malik in his later years. Tragedy befell his clan on a fateful December day as local marauders ransacked his village. Their main goal was not to annihilate the clan; it was a systematic conscription of able-bodied young men. While most families begrudgingly handed over their children, Malik’s stood defiantly, staring death straight in the face.

“Malik… Malik, please run. You cannot go with them! You’ll surely die… your years of toiling will be wasted if you go with them!”
“Mother! But… but… damnit!”
“Son… it’s our time to go. We have had a long and healthy life, yes Usain?” Malik’s mother said while turning to Usain, Malik’s father. A noticeable amount of gray hairs have become an accustomed sight to Malik.
“Go, son. Make us proud.”

Wiping his tears, Malik bolts out of his former hut after grabbing provisions and his most precious asset of all: a book of his. His parents are surely dead by now, yet he must make the best of the chance he was given by his parents. He must.

~~~

In time, Malik found a new home, seemingly untouched by tribal warfare. It is here that he was able to truly settle down and begin some sort of a semblance of an independent life. Being born with the gift of spiritual awareness is quite rare. Needless to say, Malik’s aptitude was unparalleled in comparison to his contemporaries. Within time, Malik’s ascended to the ranking of Tribal Leader, the village’s spiritual leader. And here did his aspirations take root with urging from his beloved wife, Panyin.

However, there is a very big difference between saying something and actually doing it. A single man with the influence of perhaps one hundred people will get you nowhere. Despite his aspirations, there is no feasible way to centralize such a war-torn country. Realizing this, Malik continued on with his life, never truly letting go to his ideal world of Ghana becoming an organized nation.

… Until Panyin died, that is. Her death sparked a change in Malik, a change for the worse. The trauma from her death transformed Malik from forward thinking Tribal leader into some sort of a dictator. The principles that he had led his village—compassion most importantly—were immediately lost. The drastic change in attitude had made Malik quite self-centered… a deity of sorts. His goal, of course, had been unchanged. Yet his motives… were warped beyond recognition. What once had been a humble attempt to rid his beloved nation of warfare and establish long-lasting peace turned into a delusional man’s quest for power. Yet, Malik stalled. He had quickly lost support from his townspeople, leaving him unable to seize power by any means necessary.

Until that fateful day with Blackstone, four years later.

"Everything happens for a reason. Right, Panyin?"

~~~

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch?v=jeCxINFBkSY

Peace. Peace in Ghana has finally been accomplished. While it would be a fallacy to say that Ghana is without strife, Ghana is now unrecognizable to the outside world. Cities are sprouting out of the land that originally was home to a multitude of tribes and modern technology has finally found its way into Ghana as well.

Yet, a multitude of problems have spawned from the creation of a new state. Most chiefly is how the state would be ran and who would run it. Many eyes had shifted to the national hero, Malik, for his help. He had long assisted in the development of Ghana's economy, mostly due to the wealth inherited from an old foe of his, Sebastian Telfaire. Is this it? Is Malik's dream finally being realized?

"...I decline. Ghana is best run under democracy, my friend. We will be back at square one if you simply elevate one into a post of high power," Malik says, a stern look on his face. Yet, this answer was expected, as the sharply dressed man breaks out into laughter.

"Right, right. This is the Malik I know. The Malik I am glad is my friend. So... democracy. Will you be throwing your hat into the ring?"

"Yes. Leading a country by any other means than for the people would be contradictory to my convictions. I'm sure you understand, Mr. Shabaaz. Send my word to your friends."

And thus, history was made and prosperity shortly pursued. Ghana as a whole elected Malik with an overwhelming majority. Malik Mensah... the first President of Ghana. Firstly, Malik organized the government into three familiar branches, much like the United States of America's. Indeed, most of Ghana's policies were modeled after the United States', perhaps in homage to the one who made this all a possibility.

The road ahead is difficult. Even with his government's early success did threats loom. At the first sign of weakness, will the state collapse? Will all of his efforts be for naught?

"I won't let that happen."

~~~

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DiUExx00Qow

Sitting in a dimly lit bedroom, an old man stares at a journal, no less than 200 pages in total. With pen in hand he stalls, unable to write a single letter on the piece of paper. Scratching his head in frustration, the old man reminisces on his life. The unique experiences that made him who he was, and the legacy he will leave behind in the hearts of many. After a long period of deliberation, the man finally picks up the pen. After a few moments pass and the scribbling finally desists, the old man finally closes the book for one last and final time. Walking meekly over to his accustomed bed, the elderly man enters a deep and restful sleep: surely deserved.

Quote:
 
Dedicated to Sebastian Telfaire. Without your kind heart my potential would have never been realized.
Edited by gravy, Feb 26 2011, 01:45 AM.
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