Fuyuki City split around the Mion River, dividing it into two halves. East was Shinto, a modern hub with everything. West was Miyama, an older residential sprawl. The Mion River Bridge tied them together.
Not a grand city, but Fuyuki had its perks; mountains and water bodies which offered prime views.
Nights usually drew couples to the scenery, but as it cooled, fewer lingered. Those who did clung close for warmth.
On this bridge full of pairs, one figure stood alone, staring at the still river.
Unlike the others, he had no partner, no sign of waiting; just a lone man.
His face hid under a hood, only pale hair peeking out. As night deepened, he pulled out a phone and dialed. When it connected, he snapped, "Is this real? Caster's not here."
"Don't rush it. Timing might shift a bit, but Caster will show." Haru sounded certain. "Some things can't be changed."
"Tch… I'll trust you this once. If you're lying…"
"Easy, Uncle," Haru said coolly. "Didn't I prove it already? I know what's coming."
"You didn't mention you'd be at the banquet."
"That… was out of my hands. A small hiccup. You want to free Sakura, right? You can't do it alone, and I'm the only one who'll help.
"Plainly; you've got no one else to trust!"
"…Fine. I'm still a Master. Berserker's mine to command."
Meaning he could turn that power on Haru if he chose.
Haru sighed. "I get it. Just wait there. When Caster shows, stick to the plan. We might end that monster tonight."
Kariya went quiet, then uneasy. "You sure?"
"About seventy percent sure…" Haru's tone hardened. "His body is rotted out. His magic's strong but capped. He couldn't beat Tokiomi in a straight fight, let alone escape Berserker."
"Our only hitch is his true form… Who knows where he's stashed it."
Haru smirked. "Drawing him out's on you, Uncle. Hope you can take it."
Kariya took a deep breath. "If it changes Sakura's fate, pain's nothing. My body's already… Trading it for Zouken's life is a fair deal."
Both fell silent. Haru's plan had weight, but Kariya would pay heavy.
"Hm!?"
"What's up?"
Kariya locked onto the river, excited. "He's here! Caster's here! You were right!"
Haru seemed to relax. "You know the drill. I'm counting on your act."
"Oh, and… Sakura's waiting. Stay alive, Uncle."
"Yeah…" Kariya hung up, steadier.
He eyed the odd figure on the river, murmuring, "Caster… Your death is inevitable but it will not be meaningless. At least a little girl will be saved because of it… So dance, Caster!"
A man in a bright robe stood on the water, his tall frame hunched, making him look strange. His skin was corpse-cold, eyes bulging like a fish's.
He was someone you'd dodge on sight.
His true name was Gilles de Rais, a French marshal from the Hundred Years' War, Jeanne d' Arc's ally. Now a Caster in the Grail War, his twisted wish had driven him mad.
He held his Noble Phantasm, "Prelati's Spellbook," chanting low; readying his final spell.
Unlike most Casters, he wasn't a trained magus. He leaned hard on his book.
In life, he'd known no magic; just a faithful knight and lord.
He turned to black magic after one event in history… Yes, after Jeanne was burned at the stake, he ditched his faith for the devil's road!
To most, Jeanne was a history footnote, distant and vague.
But to Gilles, her comrade, she was alive… no, she was light! Hope in his dim world!
Before her, he was a drifting noble, caring little for war or people. Faith was his only anchor in his life.
A mere farm girl, "chosen" by God. No one trusted her, but she won battle after battle, crying, "Long live France!"
She spared prisoners. Before her, mercy was a myth. When she shielded them, Gilles saw holy light; God's hand, he believed!
For that light, he'd give everything he has!!
To guard her, he'd raise the fleur-de-lis forever!
But one day, that light vanished…
Jeanne was sold to the English, branded a witch in a rigged trial.
The crowned king, wary of her fame, refused to pay the ransom to get her back and let her burn…
That day, the hero Gilles died in those flames.
What remained was "Bluebeard," a devil's pawn, hooked on alchemy and dark arts, slaughtering boys in his castle, feeding their souls to demons…
"Jeanne… you'd chew me out for this." Caster gave a faint smile. "But no matter what… this time, I'll save you! If a believer can't, a devil will!"
A strong Servant presence hit the shore. Caster turned, seeing Saber and Irisviel.
At Saber's familiar face, the dark magus bowed. "We meet again, Holy Virgin."
Saber's voice was icy. "Heretic, what's all this magic for?"
"Saving the world."
He wasn't joking; his face was dead serious.
"What?" Saber faltered.
Caster's ritual peaked. Massive magic surged from the lake, a dark form rising. A forbidden thing, its existence a blasphemy, acting on instinct, growing wild, consuming even its caller.
As tentacles coiled around Caster, he yelled; "Now, let us raise the flag of salvation again!!!"
Dark, twisted, evil… a mass of tentacles broke the surface, its sight alone enough to snap a normal mind.
…
If the divine really exists, His contempt for you must burn as fiercely as the flames of oblivion.
Your radiance pierces my soul; a searing reminder that light, when imposed, can wound even the devoted.
I stood in steadfast faith, only to be shattered by the brittle holiness that betrayed my spirit. In the cold silence of Your departure, I uncovered the grand deception; a lie spun by a faith that promised solace but delivered despair.
Now, with every beat of my rebellious heart, I renounce that fake divine. I rise, unshackled and unwavering, to rebel against him; that fettered our dreams.