Chapter 10
Archer had been tasked with getting the unconscious students to the hospital, and as soon as he left, a suffocating silence filled the air.
The sudden stillness was broken by a sharp shing—a sound that made Shirō's hairs stand on end. The entire school campus was shrouded in an unnatural darkness, a veil that seemed to swallow the light around them. It was as if night had fallen in an instant, the very atmosphere growing thick with an oppressive weight.
Rin's eyes widened, and then she cursed under her breath. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, but then she froze.
Her connection with Archer was gone. The mental link had been severed, cut off as if it had never been there.
"Shit," Rin muttered, eyes scanning the surroundings in a frantic sweep. She could feel it—something was wrong, something big.
Shirō, sensing the shift in the air, instinctively reached for anything she could use. Her fingers found a bamboo stick lying on the ground, and she grabbed it, holding it tightly as she whispered under her breath.
"Trace, on."
In a heartbeat, the stick began to pulse with energy, reinforcing itself under Shirō's command. The weight of it became more solid, more real. It was sturdy now, like a weapon, but it still felt... temporary.
Rin turned to her, eyebrows furrowed. "What are you doing?"
Shirō blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. "What?"
Rin's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You have Excalibur, don't you?"
Shirō's eyes widened. Oh, that's right. She had almost forgotten.
Without a second thought, Shirō's focus sharpened. In a flash, her form shifted, the school uniform gone in an instant, replaced by the royal blue battle dress, complete with the shimmering gauntlets and armor.
Excalibur. It materialized in her hands, its weight familiar and yet strange at the same time, as though she had wielded it forever and never before.
Rin gave a sharp look. "Make it invisible—quickly!"
Shirō stared at her, confused. "Invisible? How—?"
"Ugh, just do it!" Rin's frustration was palpable, her hands twitching as she prepared her own magic.
Shirō's brow furrowed in concentration. She had no idea how to make Excalibur invisible. She had never had the time to learn. And yet, here Rin was, demanding something she didn't know how to do. The pressure was mounting.
She gritted her teeth. "I don't know how to—"
But before she could finish her sentence, the darkness around them shifted, and Shirō's senses spiked. Her instincts screamed. Something was coming.
Without thinking, she swung Excalibur in front of her. The blade sliced through the air with a deafening whoosh, cleaving through a chain that had appeared from the darkness, aiming directly for Rin's head.
Rin yelped and ducked, barely avoiding the chain's deadly path. She quickly summoned her crystal magic, creating a glowing barrier of sharp, translucent shards around her.
The chain recoiled, retreating into the shadow from which it had come. For a moment, everything was still. The darkness seemed to breathe, waiting.
Rin's eyes flicked to Shirō, her expression grim. "That was too close."
Shirō stood her ground, the weight of Excalibur still in her hands, her heart racing. "What the hell was that?"
"Someone or something is controlling this darkness," Rin said, her voice tight with focus. "And that thing is definitely a threat."
Shirō tightened her grip on Excalibur, her mind racing. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew one thing for certain—this wasn't over yet. The real battle had just begun.
[—(/-\)—]
Shirō and Rin cut through the last of the shadowy monsters, their breath heavy but controlled. The hallway was a mess—charred walls, deep gashes in the floor, and thick, black mist lingering from the creatures they had just destroyed.
Shirō adjusted her grip on Excalibur, flicking off the dark residue clinging to the blade. "Well, that was annoying," she muttered.
Rin scoffed, brushing dust off her uniform. "You call that annoying? I just had to waste a ridiculous amount of high-quality gems on those things! Do you have any idea how expensive—"
A sharp whistling sound cut through the air.
Shirō's instincts flared, but before she could react, something cold and unyielding wrapped around her throat. Her eyes widened in shock as the chain coiled tighter, constricting her windpipe. She tried to pull away, but the links were unnaturally strong, infused with magic.
Rin spun toward the source of the attack, her hands already glowing with raw energy. "Shirō!"
The chains rattled violently, pulling her forward. Shirō dug her heels into the floor, but the force behind them was relentless. Her fingers clawed at the metal links, trying to pry them off.
Then, from the darkness, a voice sneered. "Tch. You're faster than you look."
Rin didn't wait to respond—she hurled a crimson bolt of energy straight into the shadows. The attack illuminated the corridor for a brief moment, revealing a tall, cloaked figure standing at the far end. The light barely had time to reflect off their piercing amethyst eyes before they leapt back, vanishing into the darkness.
Shirō gasped as the chains suddenly loosened, dropping her to her knees. She coughed, rubbing at her throat. "What the hell was that?"
Rin narrowed her eyes, scanning the shadows. "That," she said, cracking her knuckles, "was a Rider-class Servant."
But the moment the words left her mouth, the air shifted.
Shirō barely had time to register the distortion before the figure standing in the distance flickered. Their silhouette twisted unnaturally, shifting into something thinner, less defined. And then, like a mirage dissolving in the wind, the Rider disappeared—replaced by someone else entirely.
Shirō's stomach dropped. "Caster!"
But the Servant was already gone.
Rin cursed under her breath. "Damn it! So that bastard was just playing with us!"
Shirō clenched her teeth, gripping her sword tighter. That chain could've crushed her throat if Rin hadn't reacted in time. Caster wasn't just toying with them—he was testing them.
A cold sense of unease crawled up her spine. What the hell is he planning?
Before she could dwell on it, Rin strode toward the chemistry lab door. "Come on. If Caster's been screwing with us, there's a good chance we're walking into a mess."
She pushed open the door—
—and stopped dead in her tracks.
Shirō stepped in beside her, her breath catching in her throat at the scene before them.
The room reeked of blood.
In the center of the lab, sprawled out in a lifeless heap, was a woman—the same Rider from earlier. Her body was riddled with deep gashes, her once-proud form reduced to a tattered corpse slowly fading into golden dust.
Beside her, slumped against a toppled chair, was a boy. His face was twisted in horror, his arms wrapped tightly around his own shoulders as if trying to shield himself from something unseen. His breathing was ragged, panicked.
Shirō's eyes widened in recognition. "Shinji?!"
The boy flinched at the sound of her voice. His wild blue eyes shot up, locking onto her with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
"You," he croaked, his voice hoarse. "You're… that new girl… Emiya's cousin, right?"
Shirō stormed forward, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him up. "What the hell happened here? Were you behind all of this?!"
Shinji yelped, his hands scrambling to pry himself free. "I—I didn't—" His gaze flickered to her attire—her armored gauntlets, the sword in her grip—and his eyes went wide. "Wait. You're… you're a Servant?! A Saber?!"
Shirō scowled, barely restraining the urge to shake him. "Answer me, Matou!"
"I—I didn't do anything!" he stammered. "I just—" His breath hitched as he looked at Rider's lifeless body. "She was supposed to protect me…" His voice cracked. "She was supposed to win!"
Shirō felt a surge of anger bubble up. "So you were a Master."
Shinji's jaw clenched, his trembling hands balling into fists. "It wasn't supposed to be like this! She—she failed! And now I—" His voice wavered. He knew what being without a Servant meant. He had already lost.
Rin stepped forward, arms crossed. "Then that means you're no longer a problem."
Shinji's gaze snapped to her. "What?"
Rin tapped her chin thoughtfully. "No Servant, no Command Seals, no threat. You're useless now."
Shirō turned to her, her expression unreadable. "Are you sure, Tohsaka?"
The way she said it caught Rin off guard.
Shirō—the ever-righteous, self-sacrificing idiot—was questioning her decision to let Shinji go.
Shirō's grip on his collar tightened. "He almost got the entire school killed. If we let him go, what's stopping him from trying something else?"
Shinji paled. "W-wait! I—"
Rin sighed dramatically. "Yeah, yeah. He's an awful human being, and if karma were real, he'd be getting punted into the sun right about now. But honestly? He's just a cockroach. Without a Servant, he can't do anything."
Shirō stared at her for a long moment. Then, with a low sigh, she let go, shoving Shinji back.
Shinji staggered, catching himself against the desk. "You—" He swallowed hard, eyes darting between them.
"Go home, Matou," Rin said, already turning away. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of this war."
Shinji hesitated, then bolted.
Archer chose that moment to step out of the shadows, his arms crossed as he watched Shinji flee. "Hmph. He thinks Saber—" he nodded toward Shirō, "—is your Servant, Tohsaka."
Rin grinned. "Oh, I like that."
Shirō narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
Archer smirked. "Because it makes Rin look like she has the prana to support two Servants."
Shirō blinked, then sighed, rubbing her temples. "Great. More misunderstandings."
Rin turned to her, a slow, wicked smirk curling on her lips. "Which means, technically… that makes you my Saber."
Shirō groaned. "Don't even start."
Rin wagged a finger. "Oh, no, no. This is great. This means you have to listen to me now, Saber-chan."
Shirō clenched her fists. "I swear, if you call me that one more time—"
"I dunno. I think maid suits you better."
Shirō let out an inhuman noise of frustration.
Archer chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, while you two bicker, maybe consider calling an ambulance. Actually—" He glanced at the sheer number of unconscious students scattered across the building. "—better make that ambulances."
Shirō groaned. "This night sucks."
Rin hummed thoughtfully. "Well, it could be worse."
Shirō shot her a glare. "How?"
Rin grinned. "Shinji could've lived long enough to try hitting on you."
Shirō went silent.
"…I hate you."
Rin beamed. "I know."
[—(/-\)—]
Shinji stumbled into the dimly lit church, his breath ragged, his suit stained with dirt and dried sweat. His hands trembled—partially from exhaustion, mostly from anger. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he stormed toward the altar.
"Kotomine!" he roared, his voice echoing through the cavernous hall. "You bastard! You gave me trash! "
Silence greeted him at first, but then came the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps. From the shadows of the sanctuary, a tall figure emerged—Father Kotomine Kirei, his cassock pristine as ever, his expression calm, unreadable. He approached the raging boy with the same unshaken demeanor he always wore, as if Shinji's outburst was little more than the wind howling against the church walls.
Shinji, however, was seething. His blood boiled with frustration, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. "A Rider! That's what you gave me?! A useless, pathetic Servant! And meanwhile, Tohsaka gets a goddamn Saber?!" His voice cracked with fury. "She already had the advantage, and you knew that! I wanted to crush her! I should have crushed her! But no, you—" He pointed an accusing finger at Kotomine. "—set me up to fail!"
Kotomine listened in silence. Then, in the next breath—
He laughed.
Not just a quiet chuckle, not a dry smirk. No, it was a full, hearty laugh. Deep, rich, and amused in a way that sent a chill down Shinji's spine.
Shinji's rage flared hotter. "What the hell is so funny?!"
Kotomine didn't answer.
That only made it worse.
Shinji stormed forward, grabbing the priest by the front of his cassock and yanking him forward, shaking with rage. "This is your fault!" he snarled. "All of it! If you hadn't given me that worthless Rider, I wouldn't be standing here! I'd be winning! I'd—"
Kotomine's grin didn't waver. If anything, it deepened.
Shinji faltered. His grip loosened slightly. "…What the hell is so funny?!"
The priest tilted his head slightly, as if examining him. Then, he said, "You have drive, Matou."
Shinji stiffened.
"The fire," Kotomine continued, his tone almost gentle. "The ambition. The desperation." His smile turned razor-sharp. "Say, if you were given another Servant… what would you do?"
Shinji blinked. His breath hitched. "…Another one?"
Kotomine spread his arms slightly, his tone still casual, as if discussing the weather. "The Holy Grail War is my domain, boy. Do you really think the rules are so rigid?"
Shinji's heart pounded. "But there are only seven Servants—"
Kotomine raised a brow. "Are there?"
For a moment, Shinji just stared. Then, as realization dawned, his breath quickened. Another chance. Another Servant. Another shot at winning.
His nails dug into his palms. "Will this one be as worthless as Rider?"
Kotomine chuckled again, this time softer. "You have no idea."
Shinji licked his lips, his mind already racing, the humiliation of his earlier loss fading beneath a new, intoxicating thought—revenge.
"…I accept," he said, his voice steady, his eyes burning with renewed determination. "But this Servant had better be strong."
[—(/-\)—]
TBC