["In this world, there is no coincidence, only inevitability."]
…
…
Einzbern Castle, Germany
"You're talking about 'that' Touko Aozaki? The Grand Puppeteer with the nasty reputation?"
In the dead of night, Kiritsugu Emiya and his wife, Irisveil, were dragged out of bed and summoned to the cold, imposing hall of Einzbern Castle. Standing before them was Jubstachiet, the stern head of the Einzbern family, his voice calm but heavy with meaning.
"That's right," Jubstachiet said, his eyes fixed on the couple. "The magus honored with the [Grand] title by the Clock Tower, descendant of the Fifth Magic—Touko Aozaki. She sent a message not long ago through one of her puppets. Said she's traveling through Europe and heard about the Einzberns' unmatched homunculus techniques. She plans to drop by soon to see them up close."
"The Grand Puppeteer herself, showing up in person…" Kiritsugu's face tightened, shadows deepening in his sharp eyes.
Touko Aozaki's name wasn't new to him. As a magus killer who'd spent years flirting with death, he'd heard plenty about her—none of it comforting.
"Is she really just here for our homunculus tech?" Irisveil asked, her brow creasing with doubt.
The Einzberns weren't some new players in the game. Their history stretched back before the Common Era, rooted in ancient secrets. Long ago, disciples of the Third Magician built a workshop to chase their master's dream. That place got abandoned eventually, left to rot. But the homunculi they'd crafted—pure, loyal creations, kept it alive, driven by a mission: recreate the Third Magic to save humanity. Over centuries, that workshop grew into the Einzbern family, one of the Three Founding Families.
Their skill at making homunculi, passed down from those disciples, was top-tier. No surprise a puppet master like Touko might take an interest. Still, something felt off to all three of them.
The excuse made sense—Touko liking their tech wasn't a stretch. But why now? The Holy Grail War was creeping closer every day. The Einzberns had already poured everything into getting ready. Jubstachiet had bankrolled Kiritsugu's plans and even hunted down a rare, top-grade relic—a catalyst to summon a legendary king for the fight ahead.
Everything was locked and loaded, the countdown ticking. And now, out of nowhere, a famous magus with zero ties to the Einzberns decides to pop in uninvited? Anyone would smell trouble.
'Could she have some hidden goal? Maybe she's in the Holy Grail War too…'
The idea hit Kiritsugu like a punch. His eyes widened, and his hand twitched at his side, nerves buzzing. If Touko Aozaki, a [Grand]-ranked magus was stepping into this war, it'd be a nightmare. Way more dangerous, way harder than he'd planned.
"Well, well, a possible player…" Jubstachiet let out a soft sigh, muttering "Aozaki" under his breath like it was a curse. "Even a descendant of the Fifth Magician might be joining the Holy Grail War. Fate's got a twisted sense of humor."
The Fifth Magician was long gone, just like the Third. But before fading, they'd passed their magic down. The Aozaki sisters carried that torch—Aoko wielding the Fifth Magic's raw power, Touko forging her own dark path in magecraft. The Einzberns, though? They'd stagnated, clinging to the Third Magic's legacy while falling behind. Compared to the Aozakis, they were barely a flicker.
Deep down, Jubstachiet nursed a quiet dream: to see the Third Miracle reborn and give this centuries-old workshop a proper ending.
"Since a heir of the Fifth Magician's knocking, we can't look rude as successors to the Third," he said after a pause, his tone icy as he turned to Kiritsugu. Irisveil stood beside her husband, worry etched on her face while he stared off, lost in thought. "Kiritsugu Emiya, you'll deal with her. Keep your guard up."
"Got it.," Kiritsugu replied, giving a firm nod. He caught Irisveil's anxious look before taking the job.
Going toe-to-toe with Touko Aozaki solo, a [Grand] magus was a dice roll loaded with risk. But among the Einzberns, Kiritsugu was the guy for it. Years of dodging death and scrapping with the worst had hardened him. If Touko was here for the Grail, hiding wasn't an option. They'd have to slug it out for the prize—plain and simple.
For Kiritsugu, the mission never changed. No matter who stood in his way, he'd smash through, grab the Grail, and save the world. That was his line in the sand.
............
Late Night in Fuyuki City
High atop a towering building, Alex stood alone.
"What a buzzing city," he said, peering down at the streets below. Even blanketed in night, they thrummed with life—cars streaming, lights flashing. "That's what progress looks like."
Compared to London's creepy, dead-quiet nights—where who-knows-what could jump out, this modern chaos is more my speed. This is how humans should live…
"But as time rolls on, the darkness we used to fear gets beaten back," a rough, scratchy voice cut in from the shadows. "Those bright lights have stolen the night's turf, and the mysteries hiding in it are vanishing faster because of it. You think that's a win for us, kid?"
An old man shuffled out, bent and brittle, leaning hard on a cane. He looked like a walking corpse—skin pale and sagging, body trembling like it might give out any second. A faint whiff of rot trailed him.
He'd ditched the spotlight years ago, handing his family off to some worthless heir and fading into the background. Even his own blood barely saw him. But Alex? He knew exactly who this guy was and the ugly secrets he kept buried.
"Humans have always chased the impossible," Alex shot back, cool as ever. "First the land, then the seas, then the skies. Taming the night was just next on the list. Now they're pushing past what magecraft can touch—out to the stars, the universe. It's progress, the wheel of history spinning. We can't stop it; we can only roll with it. And me? As a human, seeing us own the night and the planet makes me proud."
The old man let out a dry, creaky laugh. "A magus who doesn't spit on tech? That's a new one, Crowley lord."
"Not every magus hates progress," Alex said, shrugging. "I just take it as it comes. And I've got one truth I stick to: all humans come from stardust. You, of all people—someone who lived through that big tech revolution should know how great humans can be. But the changes in you? They make progress look like a footnote, don't they, Zouken, you old 'hero of justice'?"
A sly, cutting grin spread across Alex's face as he dropped the name, his words slicing like a knife into the old man's dusty past.
Zouken Matou's dull, sunken eyes shrank to tiny dots, sharp and cold.