Rin sat quietly among the Avengers, her posture straight but her eyes distant. The sterile hum of Avengers Tower faded into the background as concern hovered like a storm cloud over the room. Steve was the first to speak, his voice calm but firm.
"Rin, we're glad you're back... but we need to know what happened. Are you really okay?"
Rin nodded slowly. "Physically? I'm fine. Mentally... it's a little complicated."
Bruce leaned forward, brows furrowed with concern. "You were unconscious for a week. Your brainwaves were fluctuating wildly, and there was residual energy from the scepter interacting with your consciousness. Can you tell us what exactly happened?"
She looked at each of them, her gaze pausing on every face before speaking. "I don't remember everything clearly. But I know Wanda—she was in my head. She was diving deep into my memories, trying to find something hidden. I think she was searching for the scariest part of me—my worst memory."
Natasha's expression darkened. "Why? Was she trying to use it against you?"
Rin shook her head. "No. I don't think it was that calculated. It felt more like she was trying to create a distraction. Something terrifying enough to break my concentration... maybe to escape with Pietro. But something went wrong. She encountered something she shouldn't have. Something I don't even like to acknowledge myself."
Tony raised an eyebrow, attempting to lighten the mood. "Too much? Come on, Rin, don't tell me it was a circus clown."
Rin let out a dry chuckle, rolling her eyes. "A clown? Please, Tony. Give me some credit. If anything, clowns would've been a step up. Try a walking nightmare cocktail—the universe's greatest hits of despair, hatred, and every terrible thing humanity's ever cooked up. Think less 'red nose and balloon animals' and more 'existential horror with a side of trauma flambé.'"
The room fell silent.
"It's not something anyone should see," she continued quietly. "Not even me. But Wanda touched it. And I think... that's what pushed both of us to the edge."
The weight of her words lingered, pressing down on the room. The Avengers exchanged glances, each of them silently realizing that Rin had experienced something far darker and deeper than they had anticipated.
Tony folded his arms, lips tightening. "Well... that's definitely not a clown."
Rin offered a small smile. "Nope. Welcome to my highlight reel."
She then took a deep breath and looked at them. "Alright. Let's give you some background info about my world and past. It'll help give you some context."
..............
"Let's start with the Holy Grail War," Rin said, her tone shifting to one of solemn clarity. "The Fuyuki Holy Grail War—also called Heaven's Feel—is a ritual that's been ongoing for over two hundred years. It was created by the Tohsaka, Matou, and Einzbern families, the Three Founding Families, as a way to reach Akasha."
Steve leaned in, surprised. "Wait—you said Tohsaka? As in... your family?"
Rin nodded. "Yes. I'm the heir to the Tohsaka family. My father was the last head before me."
Tony whistled. "So you're basically magical royalty. That explains the attitude."
Rin shot him a sarcastic look. "Yes, Tony. Kneel before me or be vaporized."
Clint chuckled. "Okay, but seriously—this war's been going on for centuries?"
Rin continued, seamlessly folding their questions into her explanation. "To the outside world, it looks like a brutal competition between seven magi, each paired with a summoned Servant—a heroic spirit from history or legend. The winning pair is supposed to be granted a wish by the Grail."
She paused for a moment. "But that's just the surface. In order to open a hole to Akasha—the root of all things—it required the energy of all seven Servants. That meant they all had to die, including the one that 'won.' And since the Grail could only be held by a Servant, no Master could claim it alone. The whole system was a trap, a beautiful lie dressed up as a wish-granting miracle."
Natasha frowned. "So everyone dies. And no one wins. Sounds like a fun tradition."
Rin smirked bitterly. "Yeah, family reunions are a blast. No one ever truly won. In all five wars that were held, there wasn't a single person who claimed the Grail without catastrophe. The Church and the Mage's Association got involved—both seeking control over it for their own reasons."
She looked down at her hands. "The ritual itself was created to recover a lost power—the Third Magic, known as the 'Cup of Heaven.' Justizia von Einzbern, Nagato Tohsaka, and Zouken Makiri created the system. Each family contributed something: alchemy, land, and magecraft. They chose a remote land in the Far East—Fuyuki City—far from the Church's gaze."
Bruce blinked. "You're telling me this whole insane deathmatch is just a really twisted science experiment?"
"Exactly. The ritual was our version of a high-stakes lab test—with blood sacrifices. Justizia became the core of the Great Grail, standing within an enormous circuit of layered Crests carved onto a rock over fifty meters wide. It's what enabled the reenactment of the Third Magic, and she was the key. Without her will, the ritual would be incomplete."
Rin's voice grew distant. "Even now, the families chase different goals. The Tohsakas still seek Akasha. The Einzberns and the Makiri want the revival of the Third Magic. But none of them have succeeded."
She continued, "The Grail itself needs sixty years to amass enough mana to begin the ritual. Sometimes, leftover energy shortens that to a decade. And it doesn't just pick Masters from the founding families—it chooses from magi all around the world. Only the first seven to summon a Servant receive the Command Seals and the title of 'Master.'"
Clint raised a hand. "Hey, wait a second—what's a Servant? You're using that term a lot."
"Servants are summoned heroic spirits—legends turned into warriors. They can be summoned far from the ritual site and still participate. But the truth? Their souls are what the Grail truly needs. Once defeated, their spirits are collected. Even with just five, the Grail can grant powerful wishes. But to open a path to Akasha, all seven are required."
She looked back at the others.
"But things changed in the Third War. The Einzberns, in their search for the Grail, decided to tweak the system a little. They planned to summon someone from outside the normal seven classes. They wanted to summon a god—Angra Mainyu, the so-called 'source of all evil.'"
Her tone grew colder.
"They summoned a being known as Avenger. But instead of a god, they got an ordinary man—a scapegoat chosen by his village, tortured endlessly, blamed for every evil in the world. Over time, the Grail accepted humanity's belief in him as the embodiment of all evil. His corruption tainted the Grail."
Steve muttered, "They tried to summon a god and ended up with a demon... sounds like a classic horror story."
"It kind of is," Rin replied, crossing her arms. "Only with more explosions."
She continued, her voice now hollow. "The Grail system was never the same. Originally it could only summon 'good' Heroic Spirits. But after the Third War, the corruption allowed irregular spirits to appear—some driven by madness, vengeance, or far worse."
She paused, then added quietly, "His defeat in the Third War corrupted the Grail, turning it into the equivalent of All the World's Evil."
The Avengers stared at her, absorbing the heavy weight of her past.
"So yeah," Rin said dryly, her voice tinged with sarcasm, "Wanda might've poked a little too hard into that mess."
Tony leaned back. "So it's a bloodbath just to power a magical battery?"
"Pretty much. With the prize being a wish that might just kill you."
Tony blinked. "And here I thought I had baggage."
Rin grinned faintly. "You've got matching luggage, Stark. I've got a haunted castle full of cursed trunks."
There was a moment of silence before Clint muttered, "Remind me never to piss you off."
Bruce nodded solemnly. "That... explains a lot."
Rin shrugged. "And that's just the abridged version."
The room was still, heavy with understanding. One thing was clear: Rin wasn't just another face in the crowd. Her past was woven with power, pain, and purpose—and now that past had caught up to her present.