He feels the tug on his prana reserves and snarls further. "Where is that damned Servant, and what is he doing?"
---
"Hahahahahaa!" His laughter booms through the terrain, as if each spear was amplifying his voice. By now, the entire district was impaled; to even move was an effort in and of itself, let alone dodging the projectiles he had ripped from the ground and thrown. "Yes, yes! Dance for me! Dance and suffer my foes! My spear rises in giddy joy at the sight of your struggles! Now see if you can defeat me within the deepest confines of my world! For this is battle...no, life! This is what it means to fight each other! Show me everything!"
The armored saint snarls before a burst of speed brings her right in front of him. "How lewd," is her statement, curt and punctuated with a mighty swing of her sword. An absurd exchange of blows follows, occuring over only a scant few seconds, then an explosion of white flame seperates the two.
"Watch your aim, fox!"
"Oh, dear me, I didn't realise you were there~"
That quick exchange of 'pleasantries' reminds everyone present of the nature of their alliance. But those were thoughts best left for later.
"!" His battle cry is wordless, silenct. In the aftermath of Caster's spell, he dashes in and swings his polearm with an previously withheld conviction. "Tonbo-giri!"
The invocation is cast. As if the storm itself had answered his cry, Rider's spear expels a blast of wind tapered to a thin edge, slicing through every obstruction in its way. The very atmosphere distorts in passage of this attack, and Lancer barely manages to dodge out of the way, unexpecting of the assault.
But not without harm. A long gash is torn into his side, following the path of his absurd twist to get out of the way. Blood splatters across the scene as he clicks his tongue in annoyance, but even then there is already another attack.
"That magic...I'll be taking it."
The floating disc, the mirror of the fox, flies in a deadly arc from below. With his spear already held up in front of him, he can't reposition fast enough. The distraction of the explosion and the followup by Rider is too much; the mirror crunches into his torso, dragging for a moment before sending him flying off.
His breaths are ragged. The three that oppose him, the fox, saint, and warrior, all pause to regain their breath. He is not nearly so composed, gripping his chest with one hand while he stares incredulously at the fox. "You...you wench...what did you??"
It's unmistakable. The glow of prana flows around her weapon for a moment before it disappears within it, and she merely smiles and winks in response.
At this point, it was inevitable. He would probably die here. With three Servants against him, even in his territory, defeat was most likely assured. Unless...
"Yes...yes...YES! This is what I've been waiting for, my fellows! But the conclusion to this fight will have to be delayed. The play is not yet through, the climax not yet arrived. We will continue later, I swear it upon my lance. Til next-"
His dramatic exit is interrupted, as is everything else. Masters and Servants alike cry out in shock as explosions rock the area, staggering them all.
It was instant. A projectile of straight trajectory, flying in at an absurd speed. Beyond anything any of them could muster. And with that speed came force, and a what a force it was; the very land itself shook at the impact.
"Who...?!" the saint manages, coughing at the smoke.
"Seems like we've interrupted quite the party, Archer!" comes a voice, entirely new. It (he, rather) wields an extraordinarily ornate blade, and stands with the proudness of one confident in oneself.
"Indeed Master." And aside him is a knight in red and black, wielding a bow that disappears into light and is replaced by twin swords, one black and the other white.
Lancer lets out a short laugh as the device in his hand crumbles. With a force as strong as that, it was no wonder that a fragile creation like his Master's would break.
"I see three servants here ganging up on another, Archer, and as heroes of justice I believe our course of action is obvious! However, should you Servants and Masters wish to negotiate, I do believe we are all open to suggestions! What with a fresh Servant introduced to a fight where most are run ragged, there's not much else for you to pick."
It's bravado. Or confidence concealed as such. The irritating smirk on the red/black knight's face could be telling of either. But with the force of that attack, who knew what this duo was possible of?
----
"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"..."
Silence, yet not. The twin daggers and the lightning bound cudgel swings in arc after arc, cleaving through whatever they can find. But their foes are nimble and work well together, which can not be said of them. One automaton sacrifices itself and selfdestructs, and the others batter the cloud that follows with their own munitions.
The automatons are merely distractions. Bullets are no danger to a Servant. However, they are dangerous if only due to the presence of their backups. The wolves.
Armor peels away and reveals the barrel of a cannon, immense and length and girth. Smoke erupts from the exhausts and spikes drive into the 'floor', steadying them. And then, with a cataclysmic roar of thunder and fire, the shot is fired.
Mundane or not, a firearm of that caliber was still dangerous. And without the abliity to reach at those iron wolves, the two Servants would slowly be whittled down.
"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Electricty leaps from the cudgel wielding girl, arcing like snakes into her foes. The knife user barely dodges out of instinct, while several of the knight-like constructs are not so lucky. Power is released in a crushing flood and before anyone can react the cudgel falls upon one of the canid robots.
She batters into it over and over again, uncaring of the automatons that slam into her. She merely swats them away with swings of her arm, shattering them like porcelain dolls.
The knife wielder takes advantage of the situation to silently kill another of the canines, but before she can capitalize and kill the other the rest of the entourage fly in to guard it.
Her eyes narrow as her insane 'companion' roars. This would be troublesome.
----
A war cry explodes from his lips as he slams a fist directly into one of the dolls. It explodes easily, a gandr emerging from the toy's back to pierce through another three before stopping. "Ha! Not so tough are ya?!"
Her arms swing gracefully, leaving fire and ice in their wake. Burned into ash or frozen and shattered, it didn't matter. Anything that approached her was scattered into dust. In contrast to her new found ally, she is silent.
Dozens upon hundreds met the same fate, but still it wasn't enough. They reformed at the edges of their vision, prana fused fluff disappearing and weaving into each other to rebolster the numbers of this legion.
"Stupid dolls! Any clue how to get rid of these things permanently?"
"None what so ever. I suggest you...tch!...just try to stay alive until our Servants-"
Something breaks. The boundary between 'worlds' is shattered as a screaming, storm-wreathed girl emerges from this newfound rip in reality. In her wake is a much quieter female, who nontheless is no less fatal to the mannequins with her knives as the louder one is with her bludgeon.
"...arrive," she finishes, clearly bemused. The young man whistles in appreciation of the forces of nature in front of him, for those girls could be described as nothing else.
In but moments the rest of the dolls are destroyed. Through a combination of lightning, ice, fire, and sheer prana, they're scattered until nothing remains.
"Now then," she starts, dusting off her attire. "Let's see what we can do to escape this-"
Yet again, something breaks. The bounded field fades away until nothing is left but the slightly battered inside of a shrine.
He sniggers a bit at her second interruption, to which she can only glare.
"Shall we see about finding our captor then, Takuma?"
"Sure, sure." He can't help but chuckle at her.
----
"Thank you Varia. Despite all you've done to me...you've done it for me, from the start, haven't you?"
She merely nods, resting at the shore. She seems at peace, one visible eye closed.
"The cannon shots at the bridge, which both seperated the masters that would clearly kill each other and bring together those would be amicable to team work. The bounded field, keeping the two here isolated long enough for the procedure to complete. And..."
The eyepatched woman cracks open her eye and holds a finger to her pursed lips. "Shhh, my friend. Don't spoil it. I've passed the legacy of my family to you now. With my familiars lost to Assassin, Berserker, and their Master, I've lost a great deal of my circuits. My Crest is all that is left, so use it well. I couldn't stop it...but I made it so that you can. Decide how you go about it, friend. There are resources available right here, as you know, regardless of how you choose to use them."
"I know. Thank you. I will end this for you."
She shakes her head. "No. End it for yourself. End it for this world. Make it so that the corruption of flesh that my family has had to suffer for all these generations never lives to see the innocence of mankind again. You are the end to this...Belial." Her eyes flutter and threaten to close. Her fingers twitch, her body shakes. He holds her in his arms and feels the growing weakness within her.
"I will live up to that goal. And the name you have given me."
Varia Svelt smiles gently, for the last time. "Ufufufu..."
He keeps still for a moment, then sets her gently upon the shore. Staring at the battle ensuing in the city, his fists clench with conviction. "I will live."
And so one rests, and another awakes from the torpor he thrust himself into.
----
"What?!"
"This presence...?!"
"What treachery is this!?"
"Still your mouth fool! Something far greater, far darker than any of us is coming!"
----
"This...this prana is...?"
"The Grail, definitely. Same as when I summoned Assassin...but hell, this...this is...way darker..."
----
"What is the meaning of this?"
----
A dark dome encapsules Izaya City. A perpetual, bloody black devours the very sky itself and traps everyone within. Civilians who are asleep fall into it forever more. Those still awake cease to be so. An immense, eldritch presence rises from the edges of reality, forming into undescribable beasts of shadow that stalk the fraying border of the world.
The Grail has awoken.
----
Izaya City has turned into an all out, complete free for all, survival of the fittest. Shadow beasts are attacking everyone without mercy. Previously captured zones are safe to the assault temporarily. The source of this corruption has not yet revealed itself; find it and you may end this madness. Or kill all the rest and embrace the void, and become the winner of this Grail War. Or perhaps do something else, eschewing the fate given to you in favor of your own desired one.
----
Wise up! Izaya City's Grail War:
In this dimension, the Holy Grail was discovered by an additional family: the Svelts. Varia Svelt, the manager for the most recent Grail War, is and was the last heir to this family, who were considered unorthodox and at times heretical to the nature of magecraft for their integration of technology with their art. This fusion of machine and magic, however, was not uncalled for; here, the Grail was corrupted from the start. Being the ones closest to it, the Svelt family was irrevocably corrupted by the exposure to All of the World's Evils, rendering them crippled and very nearly rendering them infertile.
Was it any wonder that the sphere of destruction, of utter erasure that followed each War was covered up? No one but the very highest echelons knew anything of the Grail's true nature, but even then no one would do anything. For greed or for fear, who knew?
The Svelts have remained low key since then, keeping under the radar. With each War they have sent their own agent in an attempt to somehow end their taint or end the Grail, but each time they have failed. Their body augmentations are the only things keeping them alive; the Crest of their family was both an heirloom and life support. And still they suffered, slowly becoming weaker and weaker with each generation. Only the advances in both technology and magecraft kept them alive in any shape and form; with Varia's birth, the one last hope was given to the Svelts. Both the healthiest and most powerful, and yet also completely infertile, Varia was the last chance. Through reaching into the multiverse itself, she called upon one last card to play...
----
AN: Ultimately, with Fate/Kaleido, I wanted to write a story. I wanted to use the premise of the Holy Grail War to start something that may become nothing, or may become greatness. I apologize for using you guys, and for the sudden plot twist, but this was my goal from the start. Writing, at the very least, fourteen distinct people into a story without focusing too much on any one or two is an absurdly hard task.
So I decided to shoot down two birds with one stone and give something back to Rumia's Party Games, which I find so much amusement in. I asked for signups and let the plot write itself for the first few rounds, but during the fifth or fourth I realised something.
This was an idea that popped up at midnight on Sunday. This was just some Fate/Stay Night flavored version of Diplomacy. But, I think, from the start, I think I intended this to be something different, if not more. I wanted Fate/Kaleido to be an exercise in what one is willing to give up for their goal, what one is willing to do for their goal. Some are willing to wait patiently, preparing themselves for an inevitable fight. Others are willing to explore and expose themselves. Some are willing to betray at any turn, and others still are willing to ally themselves with people they will eventually have to kill. Varia? She was willing to bet her entire lineage on one last chance.
I'll be honest. I didn't know what Varia was going to do until about a day ago. Her goals were unknown even to me, the guy who created her. Why did she bombard the bridge? Why did she capture two servants and masters just to delay them?
But then I realised that she was giving up. A lot. She was giving up her escape by destroying the bridge. She was giving up her power by distracting those two servants with her familiars. So I asked myself: what was she giving up all this for? And in the end I realised Varia had outsmarted me and managed to orchestrate something completely absurd, without her creator even realising. I had the barest ideas of what she was doing, but in the end I let her write herself. Strange how your fictional creations go beyond you sometimes, huh?
Fate/Kaleido isn't over. Not by a long shot guys. Send me your orders whenever you have the time.
Thank you for participating, for joining me in this little or not-so-little experiment. And again, my apologies for using you. Or...perhaps...Varia's apologies? Haha...at the very least, I have to apologize for taking so long.