Fate Stay Night/Clashing fates

by MrJonesMM

Summary:

The Holy Grail War: a battle for a miracle, where mages and their summoned heroes fight to the death for a wish-granting artifact. In Fuyuki City, the Fifth Holy Grail War unfolds to unleash chaos once more. This time, the rules of engagement are about to be rewritten.

Emiya Shirou struggles to uphold his ideals, his heart torn between Sakura Matou's fragile reality and the tragic nobility of his Servant. At the same time, an unexpected Master, Carlos Eduardo, is thrust into this conflict. Armed with ancient Brazilian magic and a flamboyant Heroic Spirit, he's set to shatter the established order. As surprising connections bloom, loyalties are tested, and intricate romances take root, the war becomes a crucible for raw emotions and insecurities. Heroes face not only formidable Servants but also the piercing truth of their own desires. Can a hero, fractured by doubt, discover his true purpose amidst clashing destinies, or will the encroaching darkness consume all he cherishes?

Fate/Clashing Fates reimagines the familiar, weaving a unique saga of friendship, love, betrayal, and a desperate fight for salvation in a Holy Grail War unlike any other.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Fuyuki under a sky of ashes

Notes:

This story is structured with the intent of weaving elements from all three Fate/stay night routes into a single narrative over time. Rather than retelling them separately, the goal is to let their themes and consequences intersect naturally.

The first three chapters portray the same pre-war days from different perspectives. This is intentional, and meant to establish how each of them enters the Holy Grail War.

I’ve tried to keep the story accessible both to long-time Fate fans and to readers who may be less familiar with the franchise, without losing depth for either.

It was a night in 1994. Departing from Kyoto Airport, the nearest major Japanese city, the Moraes family's bus ride to Fuyuki, their new home, took only fifty minutes. Pedro and Akemi were surprised by how quickly the trip went. Even though a flight error had diverted their arrival from Osaka, making them more tired, they were used to the long commutes and public transport journeys in Rio de Janeiro. For them, a bus trip was something fast. This wasn't true for their children, though: Carlos Eduardo, the eight-year-old elder son, and four-year-old Beatriz, the youngest, were already exhausted and impatient with the journey.

"When will we get there, Mommy?" Carlos asked.

Akemi, with her usual patience, had already lost count of how many times she had answered Carlos and Beatriz. Tired but wanting to prevent the stress of the trip from worsening the children's mood, she repeated:

"We'll be there soon."

"But haven't we arrived yet? Where's our house?" Carlos questioned impatiently.

With a smile, Akemi pulled him to the window seat, showing him the city landscape.

"Yes, we've arrived in Fuyuki. It's the name of the city where my great-grandparents lived before moving to Brazil. Look, it's surrounded by forests."

"It's just like our city in Rio, isn't it, Mom?" Carlos interrupted.

"That's why it won't feel strange for us here," the mother smiled and continued, "We can see a large temple in the distance, to the left of the river that cuts through the city. And look at how nice the harbor is way over there, where the river meets the sea."

"That's so cool, Mom! There's a tiny church on the other side too! It's so small!" said Beatriz, joining the conversation and jumping from Pedro's lap to the bus window.

"Yes, sweetie," Akemi continued, "it's been here a very long time. We'll have many adventures in this city."

"Will we have friends here?" Carlos asked.

"Yes, you'll have many friends," the mother said, encouraging him on their new journey. "We already have some friends whom we'll visit once we get settled into our new home. They're the Fujimuras. Your grandfather stayed in touch with them even in Brazil. He was great friends with Fujimura Raiga. It was thanks to Raiga's father that my great-grandfather got help moving from Japan."

As the conversation continued, the other passengers politely ignored the strange Portuguese words. Tired from the night journey, they barely noticed the driver's skill in keeping the bus intact after a strange gust of wind impacted the ride. For the family, the conversation continued as if it were a normal day.

"Wow, you must be really good friends," Carlos said. "I didn't know you and your friends were so old, Mommy."

Pedro woke up with his own laughter upon hearing his son, and Akemi joined him.

"You'd better explain the whole story to him, dear," Pedro suggested.

The children, with their eyes fixed and attention turned to their mother, faced her. The window was no longer as interesting as the story Akemi was about to tell.

Fuyuki was once our city. Takeuchi Keiji, your great-grandfather – your grandparents' father – was the one who built our future in Brazil. He lived near the river, in what the travel map today calls Miyama Downtown. Keiji had a deep love for this land and for the emperor, whose royal lineage still exists in this country. So great was his appreciation for the nation that he pursued a military career in the Japanese army. He was highly sought after for his intelligence and advice, especially by his best friend, Matou Zouken. He greatly helped his friend build the city. It was during his time managing the city that he also met and befriended the Fujimuras.

In his adult life, due to his great achievements in Fuyuki, he and Zouken were asked to lead a battalion of the Japanese army during the war Japan fought against the Russians at the beginning of the century. Unfortunately, he ended up being severely wounded in battle and had to retire from the army due to these injuries. I still remember him, older, without one eye and with half of his left hand gone. I don't know all the details – he never even told my father, your grandfather – but something made him so sad at that time that he decided to go with his family to a place where there could be peace. At that time, many Japanese were emigrating to Brazil. Because he had helped the Fujimuras, they reciprocated and helped our family get to Brazil. They found a house for us in the Liberdade neighborhood of São Paulo. Sometimes Raiga visits your grandparents there. But your father and I have already gotten married and moved to Rio de Janeiro.

"That was a great time when we met in Liberdade, wasn't it, dear?" Pedro said, continuing, "We managed to talk to your grandparents, who recommended Raiga's contact. And that's how we met them. But no, your mom isn't that old; in fact, she's younger than me." Pedro finished speaking and laughed again, still thinking about what his son had said.

For Carlos, his father's words were too grown-up to be interesting. He was curious to meet this Fujimura Raiga, imagining that the last name was a first name and vice versa, still unaware of the different naming order in Japan. However, after the fascinating story of war and leadership that his great-great-grandfather carried, he became even more curious to observe the city landscape the bus window offered. At that moment, his eyes widened in horror, sending a message of fear throughout his entire body.

"Mom, what's that?" Carlos asked, his voice choked, without his previous childlike excitement.

Akemi followed her son's gaze, and her smile faltered. Pedro also leaned in to look. The scene was disturbing. It didn't seem like a common fire. In a few minutes, a massive flame had swallowed part of the city.

The smoke was thick and heavy, and the reddish glow had a strange intensity, as if something monstrous was consuming itself. Akemi could only cover Carlos's eyes with her hands, trying to shield his childhood from the memories of such a traumatic scene, while Beatriz clung to the legs of her paralyzed body. Pedro, biting his lips, watched the scene with growing seriousness. He remembered news about disasters in Japan, where typhoons, tsunamis, and earthquakes were common, but this seemed different. There was something ominous about that reddish darkness. An old phrase echoed in his mind, referring to the search for a better life, now frustrated by the great fire. Pedro murmured to himself:

"To do justice in the land of the sun."

Carlos heard his father and stared intently at the scene outside the window. Silence briefly settled over the family as the bus approached the city, and the view of the affected area became clearer. Even through the windows, a subtle smell of burning permeated the air, a premonition of the devastation that had befallen Fuyuki. The passengers erupted in panic, desperate at the horrendous sight. The driver tried to calm everyone, assuring them it was still safe to enter the city, but he stopped at a station to get news from the authorities and follow safety protocols. The anticipation of a new life in Akemi's great-grandparents' hometown now carried a shadow of mystery and apprehension, etched on the faces of the Moraes family as they approached their new home.

The vivid memories of that arrival night in Japan faded with the timid sunrays rising in Fuyuki's winter. It was time to wake up. Carlos opened his eyes, questioning why such intense memories haunted him instead of good dreams.

Without lingering too long in his thoughts, Carlos Eduardo got up to get ready. The day started early for participants of Homurahara Academy's clubs, and he was a well-known figure in the sports clubs. He ate breakfast and headed to school.

Despite being well-liked, Carlos was also seen as annoying, and even hated by some captains of other clubs. This was because he insisted on creating the Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (BJJ) club, challenging most of the students who already trained karate or judo. After Carlos showcased Royce Gracie's victories in the early UFC editions, a large portion of his peers migrated to his club. He got into many fights with the captains, who were enraged by the loss of students.

Now, the new "battle” he was about to fight prioritized dialogue. His target was Ryuudou Issei, the student council president, and the goal: more funding for the new capoeira club, which had opened a few months earlier.

On the way to school, Carlos spotted some police officers cordoning off a crime scene. He approached one of them, who was supervising the still-empty street, and asked if everything was alright. The officer assured him that everything was under control but informed him about a murder, telling Carlos to go on his way. Carlos said goodbye, wishing them well, and the rest of his walk was filled with thoughts about the situation. He couldn't wait to share his distress with his friend, Emiya Shirou, once he got to school. He felt they could have deep conversations about these topics, not out of delight in 'gore,' but because he understood and shared Shirou's desire to help others.

The morning sun, a bit chilly in Fuyuki's winter, began to light up Homurahara Academy's courtyards. Carlos Eduardo walked, perhaps still with a lingering seriousness in his eyes because of the scene he had just witnessed. At the entrance, Ayako Mitsuzuri, in her perfectly adjusted uniform and with an athletic posture, caught up to him with firm steps. A smirk played on her face; she could barely wait to tease her older classmate. With all her morning energy, she said to Carlos:

"Good morning, Cadu! Looks like you made it to school in one piece today. I thought you'd be too busy with another revolution or getting into a fight somewhere before first period."

She crossed her arms, a shrewd look in her eyes observing his reaction. There was a hint of amusement in her voice, but also a genuine curiosity about his adventures. Ayako, like most students, knew Carlos had two sides: playful and affectionate, or quarrelsome, especially if he saw an injustice or was provoked by a captain in the BJJ dojo. Carlos let out a good laugh, grateful that Mitsuzuri had pulled him out of the disheartening thoughts caused by the crime scene, and replied:

"Good morning, Mitsuzuri-san. You forgot to call me senpai, didn't you? Look, for now, I don't have any bruises. I'd have a few on my arm if I were training archery with you. I'm sure you wouldn’t go easy on me just to mess with me."

Ayako laughed out loud, the sound echoing lightly in the still-empty courtyard. She shook her head, a playful smile on her lips.

"Senpai? Come on, Cadu! You're my partner in crime, not my senpai. And of course, I'd push you hard in training! You need to learn to take a few arrows in life without complaining, hahaha! But seriously, no bruises? That's new. I thought today we'd have another fight report in the principal's office, courtesy of you and some irritated kendo or karate club captain."

She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, the force of the blow revealing a bit of her own athletic nature. Her keen eyes fixed on Carlos's face for a second, as if searching for something, before returning to her usual "trouble-making buddies" posture.

"Did you hear that Professor Kuzuki saved me last time? He broke up my fight with the karate club captain. He really chewed us out. And we weren't even fighting! He wanted to know if BJJ could be done on a concrete floor. And I thought his question was a great one for us to try!"

Ayako blinked once, twice. Her mouth opened slightly in a small expression of disbelief, before she burst into an even louder and more uncontrolled fit of laughter, even needing to lean on her knee for a moment. People around them started to look at the two.

"Oh, Carlos! You... you're unbelievable! Professor Kuzuki? The one who's scary just to look at? You managed to pique his curiosity enough to... to test Jiu-Jitsu on concrete?! Hahaha! Only you! I can almost imagine the scene: 'Mr. Eduardo, why are you rolling with a classmate on the corridor floor?' And you: 'Oh, Professor, it's for scientific and athletic purposes!'"

She wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye, still smiling widely.

Cadu, laughing along with Mitsuzuri, replied:

"If only it were just that. I've known Professor Kuzuki since I was a kid. He's always had that look. So I don't get scared anymore. I think I'd be more scared if he came over for dinner and talked to my parents. Then I'd really get chewed out."

"But seriously, Cadu, don't get into any more trouble because of that. Though... you're going to see President Issei, aren't you? More 'experiments' in sight, or this time it's just about the funding for your new 'fighting rhythm'?"

"Oh, for someone from the temple, Issei's way too gossipy! Hahaha! I told him I wanted to talk about getting some funding to open the capoeira club. You're more than welcome to join! What do you think?"

Ayako raised an eyebrow, an intrigued smile on her face. The idea of capoeira was new, and coming from Carlos, it promised to be, at the very least... interesting. She considered it for a moment, her curiosity overcoming any reservations.

"Capoeira, huh? You and your inventions, Cadu. If I'm not mistaken, it's that 'fighting dance,' right? I confess I've never seen it up close. But... funding? With Issei? Now that's a noteworthy fight. He's as stubborn as you are when it comes to student council money. And of course, if it's to see chaos unfold and give you some advice... or mess with you, I'm in! But no 'experiments' on concrete, please!"

She let out a final laugh, and then, as if something reminded her, glanced at the watch on her wrist, then at the school entrance, which was now more crowded. Her gaze lingered for an instant on a newly arrived figure with black hair: Tohsaka Rin, who had just been approached by Matou Shinji, with his usual arrogant expression and some insistence that made Rin roll her eyes. Ayako turned back to Carlos, a friendly glint of gossip in her eyes.

"Speaking of fights... look over there. It seems Matou has already started annoying Tohsaka even before first period. Poor Rin-san, she doesn't get a day of peace."

"Wow! She arrived pretty early. Has she joined any club? I've never seen her participate in one before. But I agree, that's a good fight to watch. I'm not against Shinji trying his luck, but he deserves to be rejected. What do you bet will happen?"

Ayako laughed, throwing her head back, seemingly amused by the situation and Carlos's enthusiasm.

"Seriously, Cadu? You've never seen Tohsaka participate in any club because she is the 'Tohsaka Rin: Perfect at Everything' club herself. She only shows up early because she was probably reading some five-hundred-page book before sunrise or practicing her 'do not disturb' face for the rest of the day. Club? I doubt it. She's too mysterious for that. And Shinji? Ah, Shinji is a classic. He tries and tries and tries... and she ignores him, ignores him, and ignores him. It's almost their daily ritual. My bet?"

Ayako narrowed her eyes, observing Rin and Shinji's interaction from a safe distance, a satisfied smile appearing on her lips.

"I bet five yen he'll walk away with his tail between his legs, and she'll have that 'I didn't even see you' expression. It's the natural cycle of life at Homurahara when it comes to Shinji and Tohsaka. But now that you're here to watch, maybe he'll try harder to make your audience worthwhile, Cadu. Haha!"

She gave him a friendly nudge, indicating it was his turn to act, or at least to observe the 'show.'

"Nah, leave her alone; she's already putting up with Shinji. My rejection is cooler. Honestly, I say 'good morning' to her because I have no problem talking to her. I don't want her to feel like I'm a burden on her day. Let Tohsaka have her mysteries; she's not harming anyone. Now Shinji, if I go over there, he'll run away. Just watch."

Carlos gave Ayako a wink, a confident and somewhat mischievous smile on his face. Ayako shook her head, a soft laugh escaping, already accustomed to Cadu's eccentricities. The way he saw Tohsaka – not with distant admiration or fear, but with an almost childlike curiosity and a genuine lack of pretension – was something she found fascinating.

"You and your theories, Cadu. But indeed, Shinji has a special talent for escaping when things get tough. And Tohsaka... well, she really doesn't harm anyone, unless you irritate her, of course. But good luck with Issei. He's a battle all on his own."

Carlos said goodbye to Mitsuzuri, respecting the time, as he also had a club to manage and another to try to get funding for. He approached the entrance and simply looked at Shinji, without saying anything. A few meters away, Matou Shinji was, as predicted by Ayako, desperately trying to get Tohsaka Rin's attention. She, with her impeccable posture and a bored look, barely bothered to avert her gaze from anything other than the boy annoying her.

Shinji was in the middle of a whiny sentence about her lack of attention when his eyes, by sheer bad luck, met Carlos Eduardo's. Shinji's petulant smile froze. His shoulders subtly hunched, and a shiver seemed to run down his spine. That look from Carlos, which contained no anger or threat, just a silent observation, was somehow more intimidating to Shinji than any fight. Carlos wasn't speaking, wasn't lecturing; just existing. And that was enough for panic to creep into Shinji's chest. He started to stammer and look away to avoid direct eye contact with Carlos.

"Uh... um... Rin! I... I just remembered I have something important to do before class! Talk to you later!"

Before Rin could even process what he said, Shinji turned abruptly, almost tripping over his own feet, and darted down the corridor, disappearing into the crowd of students. Rin observed Shinji's dramatic escape with an expression of surprise mixed with slight irritation, as if he had ruined her moment of morning tranquility. Her eyes then slowly turned to the source of the "interruption": Carlos Eduardo. She stared at him with a mixture of curiosity, mild annoyance, and the familiar seriousness that never left her. Her lips tightened slightly, as if she were deciding between a scolding and a simple sigh.

Carlos stopped far from Rin. He turned to her and cast an affectionate gaze, a slight smile accompanying his face. Without him saying anything, his expression already told Tohsaka: 'I won't bother you. This is my good morning today. For now.' Rin kept her gaze fixed on Carlos for a moment. Her face, usually a mask of composure and occasional irritation, showed a flash of barely disguised surprise. She wasn't used to being greeted this way – without words, without Shinji's usual flourish, just a slight smile and a look that seemed to carry a silent message. She processed his expression, deciphering the unsaid intention behind that peculiar greeting. A small and almost imperceptible lift of one eyebrow was Rin's only immediate response. The annoyance on her face softened, replaced by a curiosity she wouldn't allow herself to display openly. She pondered the situation, perhaps a little intrigued by the audacity and, at the same time, the simplicity of Carlos's gesture. With a slight, almost inaudible sigh, Rin finally looked away from Carlos. She didn't wave back, didn't smile, but also made no mention of reprimanding him. She simply turned and walked towards the school building with her usual grace, leaving Carlos behind with the implication that his 'silent good morning' had been received and, perhaps, even understood in some way. The scene with Shinji seemed to have already been swept from her mind.

Carlos tried his best to distance himself and head to the student council room. As tough as he wanted to appear, he felt a shiver run down his spine and his stomach churned. It was no wonder he couldn't say 'good morning' to Tohsaka, and his own playful remark was turning against him. He knew he was developing a crush on her. And who wouldn't? he thought to himself. He might not want to bother her and even lie if someone asked if he was interested in her, but he wouldn't lie to himself about it. So much so that, in a moment of intimacy and impulsive teasing, he made a challenge to Shirou, just as he had bet with Mitsuzuri at the school entrance: that he would succeed with Tohsaka, and Shirou wouldn't. As he plunged into his daydreams, his head full of Tohsaka Rin and the silly bets he was making, he ran headfirst into Issei.

Issei Ryuudou, with his perpetually upright posture and the serious air of someone carrying the weight of the student world on his shoulders, was leaving the council room, likely to retrieve something or check the flow in the hallways. His brown eyes, usually focused and intense, widened slightly upon seeing Carlos Eduardo, almost literally, bump into him.

Carlos, needing that moment to speak with the president, shook his head to clear his daydreams and forced an inviting smile:

"Good to see you here! I really needed to talk to you, Issei!"

Issei adjusted his glasses on his nose, his expression quickly returning to his usual student council president demeanor. He didn't seem surprised by Carlos's sudden appearance, as if he had already expected his impulsive classmate to intercept him at any moment.

"Eduardo-kun. I imagined we'd run into each other sooner or later, considering your notorious passion for 'projects.' I presume this is about the funding for the... Capoeira club, correct?"

Issei's voice was calm and controlled, but there was a note of skepticism and perhaps a hint of resignation. He was already familiar with Carlos's battles for his 'alternative' clubs.

"Oh, you can call me Cadu! It's like you don't even know me with that serious look, haha. It really is about the capoeira club! Since sports clubs tend to get more funding, I wanted to see if you could release a little bit for this new club. I promise you the materials list is very small. And I already have Mitsuzuri as a member of the class with me. If the archery club captain is there, you know it's going to be packed with interested people!"

Issei blinked slowly, the seriousness in his eyes not wavering, but a muscle in his jaw subtly twitched, as if containing a smile or a sigh. The mention of Mitsuzuri Ayako, the archery club captain and one of the most respected students for her dedication and discipline, clearly captured his attention more than Carlos's flattery.

"Cadu, then. Understood." He paused slightly, as if pondering the nickname. "Regarding the funding, you know the student council budget isn't unlimited, and every request goes through a rigorous analysis. It's not a matter of 'releasing a little bit' because you have someone's sympathy." He adjusted his glasses again; his serious gaze fixed on Carlos. "However, Mitsuzuri-san's participation is, in fact, a point to be considered. She doesn't get involved in projects without substance. That gives a... certain weight to your proposal."

He gestured with his head towards the council room.

"Let's go inside. Please, present me with the detailed plan for the Capoeira club, including the proposed curriculum, class frequency, the list of necessary equipment, however small — and, more importantly, the number of potential members you expect to attract with Mitsuzuri-san's presence. I need concrete data, Cadu, not just optimism and charisma."

He opened the council room door, inviting Carlos to enter. Issei's tone was professional, but the slight softening upon hearing Ayako's name and the acceptance of the nickname "Cadu" showed that Carlos had, indeed, taken a small step forward. Inside the room, the atmosphere was organized and somewhat austere, filled with folders and documents.

Emiya Shirou was already in the room, as Issei had asked for his help fixing a printer that should have been retired to the junkyard long ago. Even so, Shirou managed to save the machine. Carlos admired his friend's talent. He believed that Shirou's persistence was what helped him fix awkward contraptions. But to greet his friend, he ignored the conversation with Issei and practically pounced on Shirou as a form of greeting.

"Good morning, bro! Another machine saved by your hands?"

Shirou, who had been bent over the printer, tinkering with wires and gears with a screwdriver, almost fell backward from Carlos's sudden jump. He lost his balance but managed to stay upright, an expression of surprise quickly morphing into a somewhat awkward smile, as he scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

"C-Carlos! Good morning! Uh... yeah, this printer was more trouble than expected, but I think I managed to unclog it. It's nothing much, just a few misplaced parts." He looked away for a second, a slight blush on his cheeks, embarrassed by his friend's effusive praise. His gaze then fell on the abandoned heater in the corner of the room. "But the printer works now. I guess the heater over there is next on Issei's list. It's making a strange noise."

Carlos released him, a satisfied smile on his face for having "greeted" Shirou in his own way. He turned to Issei, who had been observing their interaction with his usual seriousness, but without reprimanding them. Carlos refocused his attention on the student president.

"I haven't forgotten about you, Issei," Carlos said, picking up a sheet of paper from a pile on the table and, with surprising dexterity, began to fold a parakeet origami as he responded about the capoeira club's curriculum. "The capoeira club would meet once a week, so it won't interfere with other clubs or studies. But the materials on this list are necessary. Since they don't exist in Japan, I'll build the instrument called a berimbau myself. For drums, we can improvise with some wadaiko. The instruments are essential because they provide rhythm and cadence for the forms taught in the fight. It's similar to the kati styles in Kung Fu presented with music."

While Carlos spoke, Shirou had already picked up the heater and placed it on a side table. He frowned in concentration, running his hand over the metallic casing as if feeling for something. His eyes narrowed. A faint, ethereal glow began to emanate from his hands, almost imperceptible at first, but soon gaining a blue-green tint. Metallic sounds and a low hum, as if many microscopic gears were moving rapidly, could be heard for a few seconds. The light pulsed, and for a fleeting instant, the heater's internal form seemed to project into the air around Shirou's hands, like a translucent, three-dimensional diagram, before vanishing.

In a way, normal people weren't sensitive enough to perceive or see magic happen. Another factor that helped was Shirou's lack of aptitude for magic; his adoptive father, Kiritsugu, had told him his magic level was near zero. Even so, Shirou was disciplined in always practicing. The heater emitted a loud click and, suddenly, began to work perfectly, emitting a gentle, steady heat. Shirou let out a satisfied sigh, oblivious to the small 'magic' display he had just performed. He turned to Issei and Carlos.

"I think the heater had an internal connection problem. But it should work now. If it's not too much trouble, Issei, Carlos... could you excuse me for a moment? I need a bit more concentration for the next repairs, and silence helps."

He vaguely gestured towards other more complex appliances piled in the corner of the room. To avoid any suspicion of magic, now with more appliances around, he intended for his two friends to leave the area. Issei and Carlos exchanged glances. Issei, always respectful of Shirou's work, nodded his head. Carlos, though a little curious about Shirou's sudden 'concentration' and the strange light he saw for a second, understood his friend's request.

"Sure, bro! Let's go, Issei, I haven't finished convincing you about capoeira yet. The parakeet here still has a lot to say!" He waved the newly finished origami towards Issei, with a wide smile.

Issei and Carlos consented and left the room, with Issei closing the door behind them, leaving Shirou immersed in his world of repairs. Carlos continued to talk about the capoeira club as they walked down the hallway, with the origami parakeet in hand.

"And funding for uniforms would be important. Even though Mitsuzuri agreed to participate, I think it's better to open only ten spots for now. Let people get interested, and we'll gain more at the start. You know I don't disappoint. Just look at the row of medals I hung in the BJJ club," Carlos said, completely pleased, holding his finished origami.

Issei listened attentively, his expression seriously, but his eyes examined the origami parakeet in Carlos's hand. He seemed to ponder the points, especially the mention of Mitsuzuri and the strategy of the initial ten spots, which sounded more sensible than Carlos's previous ideas. However, Carlos's informality and exaggerated confidence still made him somewhat skeptical.

"Cadu, I understand your enthusiasm and your ability to mobilize people. The history of the Jiu-Jitsu club is, indeed, notable. And Mitsuzuri-san's participation is a strong point. However, the budget for uniforms and the viability of the 'improvised instruments' need to be evaluated more rigorously. Ten spots is a good start for a pilot project, but you'll need to present me with a detailed budgetary forecast and an activity schedule before I can take this to the council."

Issei's voice was firm, but less rigid than before, indicating that Carlos's proposal was, in fact, being taken into consideration, albeit with bureaucratic reservations.

At that moment, Tohsaka Rin, with her natural elegance and a distant expression, ascended the stairs from the floor below. Her steps were light and firm, and her eyes swept the corridor with an air of someone who expected to find some form of triviality. She saw Issei standing in the corridor, seemingly in a heated discussion—though for Carlos and him, it was just a conversation about funding—and, for an instant, a flicker of interest crossed her gaze. Noticing Tohsaka's approach, a slight surprise and even a certain discomfort crossed Issei's usually controlled face. He adjusted his glasses with his middle finger, releasing his usual distrust towards her, as if he were facing an anomaly.

"Tohsaka..."

Tohsaka Rin replied to Issei, wanting to provoke him:

"Well, if it isn't the student council president? Patrolling so early, or rummaging through the club rooms? Not that it matters, I just notice you're still quite diligent." Rin's voice was soft, but with a hint of sarcasm. Her eyes scanned Issei up and down with an almost imperceptible mockery, as if his seriousness was a curiosity to be observed but never understood.

Issei seemed to stiffen slightly. Rin's subtle provocation, which he likely interpreted as a lack of respect for his dedication, always irritated him. His air of dignity seemed to grow, like a wall against Rin's relaxed attitude.

"Tohsaka-san. I am, as always, fulfilling my duties as student council president to ensure the order and smooth operation of this institution. I am not 'patrolling'; I'm simply making sure club activities are in accordance with regulations. Unlike some, I value discipline and decorum." He emphasized the last words, casting a subtle look of disapproval at Rin, as if she were the embodiment of everything he considered "undisciplined" within the student body. His gaze then shifted to Carlos, as if seeking an ally in his formal stance, or perhaps fearing Carlos would join Rin's "mockery."

Carlos struggled to suppress his laughter at Rin's sarcasm. At the same time, the knot in his stomach and a chilling sensation in his chest, with his heart tightening, appeared as he listened to that soft voice. For Carlos, every millisecond counted to avoid an embarrassing episode that would expose those two titanic school forces—the student president and the model student—who made the great second-year adventurer's stomach churn and chest tighten. The best way out would be to apologize for the betrayal he was about to commit against his friend Issei, because he couldn't resist participating in a mockery session. For him, that's how friends should interact with each other. He closed his eyes with a smile on his face and his arms crossed, showing approval of Issei's actions, and said:

"Fine words, student patrolman." He then let out a chuckle. Wanting to play along with the situation, he continued: "But I admit it's curious to see you so early, Tohsaka-san. If you're late getting to our class, I'll invite you to join the capoeira club. Mitsuzuri's already in!"

Issei's face, which had been preparing for another formal retort to Rin, contorted in a mix of surprise and, to his frustration, an undeniable air of betrayal. He blinked, his glasses almost slipping off his nose, as he tried to process the sudden shift in "alliance." His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

Tohsaka Rin, for her part, reacted with her usual composure, but a small, almost imperceptible, flicker of surprise and even a gleam of amusement danced in her eyes. Carlos's direct and unexpected mention, and the comical "betrayal" of Issei, was something she hadn't anticipated. Her subtle sarcasm vanished for a second, replaced by genuine curiosity. The idea of Mitsuzuri Ayako in the Capoeira club and Carlos's cheekiness in inviting her were, at the very least, noteworthy.

Rin, in a voice slightly more neutral than usual, as if analyzing a complex equation, said to Carlos: "Capoeira? Mitsuzuri-san? I see you're still pursuing your... initiatives, Eduardo-kun. I'm not late for class; I'm merely appreciating the peculiar landscape of the hallways this morning. And clubs aren't my focus, as you should know." She cast a quick glance at Issei, who still looked like a fish out of water, and a second, more prolonged and intrigued, look at Carlos. There was a tone of challenge and curiosity in the latter part of her statement. "Besides, I doubt the student council president will approve funding for yet another of your... artistic adventures. He seems to have high standards for 'discipline and decorum,' doesn't he, Ryuudou-kun?"

She cast one last piercing look at Issei, who seemed to shrink slightly under the dual assault from Carlos and Rin. Then her eyes returned to Carlos, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on her lips, before she finally began to ascend the stairs, leaving the two behind with the playful taunt hanging in the air.

As Shirou exited the room, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes from having fixed the heater and the printer, he saw Tohsaka Rin going up the stairs. With his usual kindness, but somewhat awkwardly in social interactions, he said to her, without Issei's formality, but with an honest simplicity:

"You're here early, Tohsaka."

Tohsaka didn't turn around and continued up the stairs. Her response was an almost inaudible murmur, unsure if what Shirou said was a greeting or not, a minimal nod that barely broke the line of her shoulders, indicating she heard him but wouldn't linger.

Carlos, amused by the situation and now lighter from the tightness in his chest, ignored the interest in the capoeira club and the need to follow Issei. Instead, following his impulses, he quickly climbed the stairs. In a short time, he reached Rin's shoulders. He spoke softly and low, as if it were a secret just for the two of them:

"A gift for you to have a good day."

He gently placed the origami parakeet on Tohsaka's right shoulder. He did it carefully, as if to show it was an affectionate prank, so she wouldn't feel bad about it. Deep down, he wished she would accept that simple present. Without waiting for the model student's reaction to his origami, he went down the stairs, without looking back. The mystery of the pranks was what entertained him now.

Rin, her attention already divided between Shirou and the corridor ahead, felt the light weight, almost a tickle, on her shoulder. She stopped mid-step, frozen for an instant, the surprise on her face manifesting only as a slight tightening of her lips. She knew it was Carlos. His boldness and peculiarity wouldn't let her forget. Her gaze slowly dropped to her shoulder, where the small, carefully folded origami parakeet rested. It was simple yet made with a precision that contrasted with the playful attitude of its giver. A complex mix of irritation—for being surprised and "pranked”and an undeniable pang of curiosity and, perhaps, even a slight, very slight, touch of... affection? —passed through her eyes.

Rin picked up the origami with two fingers, examining it as if it were a strange artifact. She didn't throw it away or crumple it. Instead, her eyes sparkled for an instant, and a sigh escaped her lips, but not out of annoyance. It was a sigh that seemed to acknowledge the effort and intention behind the gesture. She clutched the small parakeet in her palm and continued up the stairs, without saying a word, but the small colorful figure in her hand was silent proof that the "gift" had been accepted.

Shirou, who had just fixed the heater and was preparing for the next appliance, glanced at his wristwatch and realized that classes were about to start. He made a subtle movement with his arm, a gesture Carlos knew well: it was Shirou's signal that time was running out. Carlos, turning back to Issei with a conciliatory smile but still with a playful glint in his eyes, said:

"Issei-kun, please don't take it seriously; it was just a joke. I recognize your effort, and we won't have a better president at Homurahara. But I'll come back to the capoeira club matter later. Let me steal my friend from your services, or he'll be late for class fixing more machines in this school."

Issei, who still seemed to be recovering from Rin's sudden verbal attack and Carlos's 'betrayal,' blinked a few times. Carlos's compliment, though mixed with a teasing tone, seemed to disarm him a little. He adjusted his glasses on his nose, a slight blush perhaps coloring his cheeks, a rare sight on his serious face.

"Uh... yes, Eduardo-kun. I... understand. Indeed, the school schedule is a priority. Come back with the club proposal formalized. And... thank you. For the recognition." His voice was a little softer than usual, though still formal. He watched Carlos grab Shirou.

Carlos wasted no time, taking Shirou by the arms with a light laugh and pulling him towards the exit of the room, accompanying him to his classroom. Shirou, caught by surprise, stumbled a little but didn't resist, already used to his friend's bursts of affection and impulsiveness. Carlos broke the silence:

"I'm ahead in the challenge, huh, hahaha! Can I come over for dinner tonight? How are things going with Sakura helping out at your place?"

Shirou blinked, a little dazed by the abrupt change of subject and the speed with which Carlos was dragging him along. The mention of Sakura made him smile softly, a genuine and warm expression that always appeared when he talked about her.

"Huh? Dinner? Oh, sure, Carlos. You're always welcome. It's just... you know, I have a few things to do after school, and Sakura... Sakura's amazing, as always. She helps me a lot with chores and... and with dinner too. She's a fantastic cook." He seemed almost to ramble, his face acquiring an expression of pure admiration and gratitude when speaking of Shinji's sister. There was a slight hesitation about the 'organization' of the Emiya household, but the joy of having Carlos around outweighed it. "But yes, come! It'll be good to have you there!"

"Cool! I already told my parents I wanted to visit you. But you'd better keep an eye on Sakura. I'm already closer to winning the challenge of winning over Rin first, haha! But can I be honest? And please, don't tell anyone. I think I need to ease up on teasing her. Just this morning, being in her presence, my stomach was churning, and I felt a terrible chill in my chest. But please, don't tell anyone. Otherwise, I'll have to face a bunch of club captains wanting to challenge me as a wimp again. And I don't want that anymore."

Shirou listened to Carlos attentively, his eyes widening in surprise at the confession about Rin. But quickly, his confused expression gave way to one of genuine concern. He looked at Carlos, who now seemed strangely vulnerable, and his instinct to help surged. With a furrowed brow, speaking in a serious and slightly worried tone, Shirou blurted out to Carlos:

"A chill in your chest? Stomach churning? Carlos, are you okay? That doesn't sound good... Did you eat something strange for breakfast? Or maybe it's Fuyuki's winter cold? We can go to the infirmary if you're feeling unwell. It's not good to feel those things, especially if it's because of a 'joke' that's making you sick. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I promised, didn't I? A secret between friends."

He seemed to take Carlos's physical complaint very seriously, somewhat missing the subtlety of his friend's emotional dilemma. The idea of Carlos worrying about his reputation as a 'wimp' for feeling unwell was something Shirou, in his simplicity, considered secondary to his friend's health. He gave Carlos an awkward pat on the shoulder, trying to be comforting.

"But... about Tohsaka... she's truly... impressive. I'm sure if you talk to her about your feelings, she'll understand. And don't feel bad about this, Carlos. Everyone has their moments of weakness, you know? It's not being a wimp; it's... it's being human. And I don't think a club captain would care about what you feel for someone." He paused, realizing he might not be helping much with the romantic issue, but the promise of secrecy was unwavering in his eyes.

"Thanks for the support, man. I'm fine now, I don't feel what I told you anymore. And relax about Tohsaka. It's still fun to mess with her. I have a challenge with you to win, haha!"

Shirou gave an relieved smile, though somewhat confused by Carlos's sudden return to the 'teasing' and the 'challenge' with Rin. He was happy his friend felt better, even without fully understanding the initial cause of the discomfort. Carlos's loyalty was something Shirou deeply valued.

Entering Shirou's classroom, Carlos stopped abruptly. His eyes met Matou Shinji's, who was already seated at his desk, looking even more petulant than usual after his escape from Rin. The smile on Carlos's face vanished, replaced by a cold, piercing glare. He didn't say a word, but the scowl on his face, full of silent disapproval, was a clear message. Shinji, seeing Carlos's expression, shrunk slightly in his chair, looking away towards the window as if suddenly fascinated by the landscape outside, his face pale.

Carlos, turning back to Shirou, his expression relaxed once more, thanked his friend:

"Thanks for listening to me. Know that I'll be by your side when you need me too, okay?"

With a quick nod to Shirou, Carlos ran off to avoid being late, but without success. The first-period teacher, a severe and punctual man, cast him a disapproving look. Carlos got reprimanded, as usual, and was sent to his seat. As he entered the classroom, his eyes automatically sought out Tohsaka Rin's desk. She was already there, sitting with her impeccable posture, focused on her books as if the outside world didn't exist. Carlos, feeling his stomach churn again, but now mixed with apprehension about her reaction to the origami, walked straight past her, almost hiding behind other students, without even risking a glance in her direction. He didn't want to know the response to his little silent gift, not yet. The mystery of the pranks was fun, but the uncertainty of her reaction made him uneasy.

The day continued, with Carlos participating in classes with his peculiar energy. To the surprise of all his classmates, and even Tohsaka Rin, who occasionally cast a discreet glance his way, and to the veiled frustration of the teachers, Carlos once again aced the latest exam. His results were inconsistent: sometimes perfect, sometimes just average, but when he applied himself, it was undeniable. Many teachers wished Carlos would get a bad grade on some assignment or test to justify his mischievousness and his reputation as a 'troublemaker,' but to everyone's astonishment, they couldn't make him truly a 'back-of-the-class' student. His occasional brilliance was an irritating mystery to them, contrasting with his outgoing and, at times, defiant personality. Little did Carlos know how important it would be to stand firm in his defiant attitude to face the challenges that lay ahead.

Chapter 2: When spiders wave their webs

Our stories are shaped by destiny. Every action we take leads us to the effect of a certain outcome. And many of our actions, especially those that go against what we desire and the desires of others, lead us to a conflict of destinies. For some, destiny might be predetermined; for others, we have a multiverse of parallel destinies, where each takes a different course. Some believe it's unchangeable, while others think destiny is merely the probability of chance. Regardless of the definitions, what's known is that every individual deals with the conflict of destinies.

This reminds us that in a story, there isn't just one hero. In this narrative, we observe more than one hero and their destiny in action. Just as a spiderweb has diverse, subtle yet firm connections in its threads, here we will see what happened to our heroes, Tohsaka Rin, Emiya Shirou, and Carlos Eduardo, connecting them in their destinies.

The curtains in Tohsaka Rin's bedroom window were so effective at blocking out the sun's rays that it was the persistent ringing of her alarm clock that finally woke her. She had slept terribly. The night before, she had been going through family belongings, preparing for the Holy Grail War. In one box, her deceased father, Tohsaka Tokiomi, had left a pendant as a memento. She felt the magic circulating within the artifact, imbued with two enchantments to sharpen his daughter's mind for the coming battle. One was a healing enchantment. However, it was only upon seeing the school with its empty courtyard that she realized temporal alteration was the second magical effect.

The first people she saw upon arriving were Mitsuzuri Ayako and Carlos Eduardo chatting at the gate. In her mind, it was great that the two of them were laughing, as that meant she wouldn't have to pay attention to anyone. Unfortunately, her hopes were dashed by the first person who found her, much to her displeasure: Matou Shinji. In his arrogance, he boasted to Rin as if that would persuade her to fall for his flirtations. She was already preparing to give Shinji another colossal rejection when Carlos Eduardo scared him away.

Unlike other days, this one, for Rin, involved a lot of interaction with Carlos. Despite being in the same class, there wasn't much contact between the two. Rin preferred to keep her distance from everyone. However, a few weeks ago, Carlos, accompanied by Shirou, would simply say to her: "Good morning!" Nothing more, nothing less. It irritated her, but not enough to want to push him away. Perhaps she didn't understand his motive, or felt frustrated because he didn't give her time to push him away with her sarcasm. Another reason for irritation might have been catching herself with a faint, but very faint, almost imperceptible smile. But that particular winter day was already beyond normal from Rin's perspective. She even received the gift of an origami parakeet. Not only that, but Carlos defended her from some classmates during the class break, who were slandering her behind her back due to the attention Rin drew from boys and her general emotional distance from her peers.

Rin, who valued discipline and dedication to achieving excellence, observed Carlos with a hint of irritation. He, with his playful remarks and carefree attitude that so often got on her nerves, had once again got an A in an exam. It was an absurd contrast. While she dedicated tireless hours to ensure her perfection, Carlos seemed to float between genius and chaos. It wasn't just the surprise of his ability, but the contradiction he represented: proof that effort didn't always manifest visibly, or that talent could be as volatile as his mood. And this, somehow, frustrated her—or perhaps, intrigued her even more about the enigmatic boy who continued to defy her expectations.

These were the events that led to the destiny Tohsaka has as this story is narrated. Already nighttime, as she closed her front door, she went to the message box to check for calls. There was a missed call from her master and tutor, Kotomine Kirei. The priest from the church on the other side of the city wasn't pleased with another absence from his apprentice. This time, her truancy was more serious. He said in the recording:

"Good evening, Tohsaka Rin. I hope you enjoyed your eighteenth birthday gift. But don't expect it to prevent you from hearing a necessary warning. Only two more Servants are left to be summoned. If you don't get organized, you'll be left out of war. I doubt your father would have approved of your negligence. Return my call with updates."

Tohsaka Rin murmured to herself:

"Oh, that frantic priest. He has no idea I'm preparing to summon the strongest Servant for this battle. He didn't need to tell me what to do.

After dinner, Tohsaka got ready, changing out of her uniform into more comfortable clothes for the summoning ritual. She reread some notes about the Holy Grail War. It was a grand ritual performed by the three great mage families: the Einzbern, the Makiri, and the Tohsaka, of which Rin was a part. Four other mage families could participate. The ritual involved summoning seven types of Heroic Spirits, known throughout history, to fight each other. They were divided into warrior classes: Saber, Archer, Lancer, Caster, Rider, Assassin, and Berserker, a warrior who sacrifices sanity for greater strength. The mana from the defeated spirits would be absorbed for the advent of the Holy Grail, which would grant any wish to the winner of this battle. This was the fifth war being planned. Rin, more than anything, was preparing to live up to the ritual and not fall behind her ancestors.

She waited until two in the morning, when her mana would be at its strongest. She drew the summoning circle, then chanted:

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the corners. The ancestor is the great master Schweinorg. The winds aligned become a wall. The gates in the four directions closed, come to the crown, the three-forked road leading to the circulation of the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat each five times. Simply, broken once filled. I announce, your being is under my control, my destiny is in your sword. With the approaching Holy Grail, if you follow this feeling, this reason, then respond. Here is my oath. I am she who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am she who exposes all the evil of the world of the dead. You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O guardian of the balance!"

At that moment, a loud crash of furniture and shattering glass erupted. Rin was excited to see the success of her summoning. She rushed out to see the great Saber-class Servant waiting for her. As she opened the door to leave the basement for the living room, she saw the wreckage the Servant had caused upon being summoned. He was a man with white hair, dark skin, and was sitting presumptuously amidst the mess he'd made. He asked her:

"Are you the one who summoned me? Are you my Master?"

She gasped, frustrated by the clocks. Just as the hands had been an hour fast that morning, causing her to go to school early, they had sped up her summoning. She had summoned her Servant not at two in the morning, but an hour earlier than planned. Taking a deep breath to push away her frustration, she replied to the Heroic Spirit:

"And who are you?"

"Is that how you respond to me?" The stranger said, also sighing in frustration.

"I am the Master. I should be asking the questions here."

"A Master?" He raised an eyebrow, an ironic smile forming on his lips. "From my recent memory of who summoned me... and the pathetic mess you made of this room, I'd say I have some doubts about your commanding ability. What do you say? A summoning so... explosive... from someone who can barely control themselves? You don't seem like the type of Master worthy of a Heroic Spirit."

"Why, you... insolent worm! You've just been summoned and you're already insulting me?! The mess was yours, not mine! And by the way, who do you think you are to question my abilities?"

" 'Abilities'?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "From what I see, your greatest ability so far has been destroying your own environment. A waste of mana for someone so... young. Spare to me your displays of bravado, Master. If you truly had the capability you boast about, you'd have put me in my place by now. But it seems you can't even do that."

Rin writhed in frustration and anger. She couldn't believe someone could be so insolent and doubt her abilities. She bit her lips, her head lowered.

The arrogant, unknown Servant continued, "You haven't shown anything so far that speaks to your abilities. I'll acknowledge you as Master, but know that you'd be better off following my orders. Stay hidden somewhere, thinking of your well-being while I fight the battle. You'll emerge victorious, so just stay quiet."

Rin, unable to bear it any longer, screamed, "Shut up, that's enough!" She raised her fists, a glow of mana radiating from her hand.

"You're not crazy enough to do that!"

"By my command, I order you to obey me!" A strong, undeniable energy struck the Servant, forcing him to his knees on the floor.

His body, initially defiant, abruptly yielded, forced by a will that was not his own. The pulsating energy of the Command Seal reverberated through every fiber of his being, a magical imposition as powerful as it was vague. He knelt, his knee scraping the floor, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of shock. The physical pain was minimal, but the humiliation of being forced to obey was palpable. More than that, the force behind the command, so direct and crude, left him stunned. She was not a Master to be underestimated.

"What..." He murmured, his ironic smile completely vanishing, replaced by an expression of pure disbelief, as he forced himself to maintain an upright posture, even while kneeling. "Such power... I didn't imagine you could be so... strong.”

As she sat down, Rin continued, "This is much better for us to talk, don't you think? Well, I imagine that to have such strong will, to answer your Master that way, you must be a very powerful Saber."

The Servant took a small sip of tea, evaluating it with a critical eye before sighing, which could be either a sign of compliance or annoyance. "Better? Perhaps. More... civilized, I'd say. As for your assumption about my class..." He tilted his head slightly, a shadow of his ironic smile returning, though now without the previous arrogance. "You are mistaken, Master. My class is Archer.”

He placed the teacup on the table with a soft click, his grey eyes fixed on hers.

 

"Now that you've deigned to ask the right questions, proceed. I know you're curious. What else do you wish to know? My name, perhaps?"

"Archer?" she murmured, and a wrinkle of frustration appeared on her forehead as she recalled the early summoning time. Such millimeter-precise errors irritated her. "Well..." she continued, clearing her throat. "It makes sense, given that one of this class's abilities is Independent Action. Even so, I'm finding myself liking you, Archer. You seem like someone with a very strong conviction."

A peculiar glimpse, almost as amusement, crossed Archer's eyes as he heard his class name used by her. He allowed a brief, almost imperceptible, upturn at one corner of his mouth. " 'Liking'?" He repeated the word with a tone bordering on sarcasm, but without the irritating edge from before. There was a more neutral, observational tone now. "Don't jump to conclusions, Master. Coexisting with Heroic Spirits isn't always as pleasant as you imagine. And about the 'strong conviction'..." He looked away at the cup in his hands, and for an instant, a shadow of weariness or melancholy passed through his eyes. "Let's just say my conviction is more about consequences than about the purity of an ideal."

He looked back at her, his pragmatic expression returning.

"And may I know my Master's name?"

"My name is Tohsaka Rin," she replied with an inviting smile.

"Very well, Master Tohsaka Rin. I must admit, it was quite imprudent to use a Command Seal with an order like that," the Servant commented.

"I still have two seals left," Rin responded. "I couldn't let you treat me that way."

"That made me admire you more as my Master. The Command Seals are what bind our contract and provide me with mana to remain in this world. The vague the order, the weaker it is. Yet, even with such a vague command, I still feel it course through my body, and I hear your voice compelling me to obey. I am certain I have an incredible Master."

Rin blushed at the compliment. "That's good to hear, Archer." She began to feel more confident in building a Master-Servant relationship. "By the way, I have another question, Archer."

"You want to know my true name, don't you? It's the obvious next question for a Master."

"Yes," Rin replied. "What is your Heroic Spirit name?"

"Unfortunately..." He paused briefly; a hint of frustration mixed in his voice. "My memory of that is... blocked. I don't remember my true name. Only my class."

"I didn't expect that. I suppose I made quite a mistake in the summoning ritual. I apologize for that," she said, a touch of irritation aimed more at herself than at him. "Still, please don't be frustrated by it. It's better if we don't know your name. That way, we have an advantage of the enemy not knowing who they're fighting against."

Archer observed her with a penetrating gaze, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes as he heard Rin's apology. It was rare for her, and he noticed. "An advantage, yes." He agreed, his voice still somewhat drawn out, but without the mocking tone from before. "Not having a name is a burden for a Heroic Spirit, but if you insist on seeing it as an asset, then so be it. At least you're starting to think more... strategically, Master. Though your concern for my 'frustrations' is somewhat... unnecessary."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the wreckage still lying in the living room, visible from the half-open door.

"Now that formalities have been established and your battle plan outlined, I imagine there's nothing else urgent to discuss at this moment, correct? There's a considerable mess that needs to be sorted out before sunrise."

"That's true!" Rin tossed Archer a broom and a dustpan. "For now, clean up the mess you made," she said, smiling at Archer. "And I'm going to rest. Tomorrow, I'll show you around the city so we can align our strategy for our battle."

Archer clumsily caught the broom and dustpan, his eyes widening slightly as Rin smiled at him. Her smile was almost predatory, a sign of victory he now, begrudgingly, had to accept. He looked at the objects in his hands, then at Rin, with an expression that mixed resignation, disbelief, and a hint of veiled annoyance.

"Clean up the mess..." he murmured, his voice a ton lower than usual, almost as if speaking to himself. "Hmph. It seems being the guardian of an inexperienced Master includes rather... domestic tasks. Very well, Master. Though I doubt 'showing me the city' is your priority. But, as ordered." He cast one last look at her victorious smile, an almost inaudible sigh escaping his lips before he turned towards the cluttered living room.

While these events unfolded at Tohsaka Rin's house, Emiya Shirou, in parallel, was following his monotonous routine of leaving work and heading home. The only novelties were Matou Sakura being there to help him with household chores, and the company of his English teacher and current guardian, Fujimura Taiga, who visited him to check in and to enjoy the delicious dinner he was known for. The third novelty would be Carlos Eduardo's participation. His friend's presence was very welcome on that occasion. However, on his way back from work, a girl with silver hair and red eyes crossed his path and said something very strange to him:

"Brother, you're going to end up dead if you don't summon soon."

He was startled, but the girl had vanished. Soon, he just continued his way.

                As agreed, Carlos, after organizing the BJJ club, went home just to tell his parents he would be having dinner at Shirou's house. His mother was preparing dinner for the family as she listened to her son's request. She asked him to wait, at least to ask his father for permission. Carlos went to the office to speak with his father. He waited for a call to end. Upon seeing his son, Pedro motioned for Carlos to wait.

"Who is it, Dad?" Carlos asked.

"It's someone asking about our Umbanda house." Pedro made another gesture for his son to be quiet and continue. "Ms. Bazett McRemitz, please excuse the interruption; you may continue with what you were saying."

Bazett Fraga McRemitz was an agent of the Mage's Association and introduced herself as such to Pedro. At the request of Kirei, whom she trusted deeply, Bazett was investigating the Moraes family on behalf of the Clock Tower in London. The alliance between the Church and the Association was unusual but occurred during specific events like the Holy Grail War, or when there was suspicion of heretical mages or those allied with monsters like vampires. Since the Moraes family brought their Umbanda religious tradition to Japan, this was seen as strange, not aligning with the magic of that land. This was what Bazett was investigating. She said:

"Right, Mr. Pedro. You mentioned your wife has family originating from Fuyuki. But it's also important to know about your own lineage. Can you tell me a bit more about yourself? Especially your history with your religious practice."

"Of course, Ms. McRemitz. The simplest way to put it is that I came from a city called Caruaru, in Pernambuco, Brazil. I merely followed my father's lineage; in our practice, he was a babalaô, a type of priest in the religion called Candomblé. I deviated a bit and continued with the practical branch of Umbanda. My father taught us that we blended with the indigenous peoples of Brazil, with the Black people who came enslaved from Africa, and the Portuguese. In our case, we were from a family persecuted by the Church. We've been accustomed for centuries to people who don't like us."

Bazett Fraga McRemitz listened intently while reviewing some investigation paperwork. The Moraes family had been suspected by the Inquisition but fled to Brazil and found favor with Duarte Coelho, the hereditary fief of Pernambuco, during a period when the colony was still strengthening. This only reinforced the hypothesis of some lost magical circuit among the Moraes, now intermixed with the Takeuchis. As an agent of the Mage's Association, it was important to investigate this, especially if there was a possibility of conflict between mages over a particular territory, making intervention necessary in such cases.

"All right, Mr. Moraes. Thank you for your time and availability."

"If you'd like, Ms. McRemitz, please visit our house of worship. In two days, we'll be open to celebrate the day of Xangô. Come see!"

"It would be an honor. You can count on me." The sound of someone arriving echoed in the background. "For now, I must go, but we'll be in touch." McRemitz hung up the phone.

Seeing his son's curious face, Pedro commented that a certain Mage's Association was interested in their terreiro. He doubted it had anything to do with that church across town. They were already used to people finding them strange because of Umbanda, ever since Brazil. In Rio de Janeiro, they suffered much persecution, with evangelical Christians destroying the property where their altars were located. Upon arriving in Japan, it was the Ryuudou Temple that first came inquiring about their practices. That's how the Moraes became friends with Kuzuki Souichirou, who was the temple's representative at the time.

"Kuzuki's coming to have dinner with us," Pedro told his son. "Aren't you staying for dinner? You're still in your school uniform. You look like you want to go out this time of night."

"I wanted to go have dinner at my friend Shirou's house," Carlos replied.

"He's a good friend. You can go, be careful."

Carlos rushed out of the house. As he opened the door, he ran straight into Professor Kuzuki, who was arriving with a very beautiful woman. Her face tightened as Carlos almost bumped into Kuzuki. Carlos just said goodbye and hurried off, hearing his parents in the background expressing admiration for Kuzuki and his lovely companion.

When arriving at the Emiya residence, he immediately heard Professor Fujimura's shouts.

"Be careful!" she warned. "The city is dangerous these days!"

"I just needed to help out at work. I couldn't leave them in a lurch," Shirou replied.

"Has he always been like this, Professor Fujimura?" Sakura asked, as Carlos entered the dining room.

"Always! When he was a child, he wrote in a homework assignment that he would become a hero of justice!" Fujimura responded.

"Ah, you're talking about my man, right, Professor Fujimura!" Carlos announced himself to those present in the dining room.

After greetings and a minor argument where Shirou had to calm Fujimura down—who was trying to lunge at Carlos for playfully calling her 'Tiger'—they returned to dinner. The aroma of home-cooked food hung in the air. Carlos then picked up their earlier conversation:

"But it's something you really need to be careful about, Shirou. Your work is a bit far from home. Just this morning, I saw a house that the police had cordoned off because of a murder."

"A murder?! Carlos, are you serious?! Shirou, didn't I tell you?! I felt the city was strange! That's why you shouldn't be out late, Emiya-kun!" Taiga's eyes widened, and the knife she held to cut a piece of tofu nearly slipped from her hand. She slammed the table with a sound that echoed through the room.

Sakura's naturally gentle face paled slightly. She looked at Shirou with visible concern in her eyes. "Shirou-senpai... that's... scary."

Shirou seemed a bit uncomfortable with the sudden wave of concern from Taiga and Sakura. He tried to remain calm, though a slight frown revealed the news had affected him. "A murder, Carlos? Well, it happens. It's sad, of course, but... it's not like it's common in Fuyuki. Probably an isolated case. Don't worry too much."

Ever since going to school, Carlos had wanted to mention the murder because the news had saddened him. He knew Shirou was now trying to deflect to keep everyone at the table at ease. He was now upset that he had darkened the mood of dinner. He then tried to remedy the situation:

"I think it's an isolated case too. I only mentioned it because I know you like to help others. Leave the impulsiveness to me, haha. It doesn't suit you. We need to protect these beautiful ladies accompanying us, Shirou," he finished with a playful smile.

Taiga shook her head, a laugh escaping her, relieved by the change of subject. She theatrically pointed the knife at Carlos, but with a playful glint in her eyes. Carlos laughed at Taiga, and with a dramatic flourish to join the fun, he got into a guard stance on the floor. "Oh, Carlos!" she continued, "You and your nonsense! 'Tiger' here can perfectly well protect herself! But Shirou-kun, it's true, don't be so reckless! And you, Sakura-chan, don't worry about anything!"

Sakura's face flushed slightly at being called a "beautiful lady." She smiled shyly at Carlos, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Thank you, Carlos-senpai."

Shirou let out an almost inaudible sigh, a small smile forming on his lips as he saw Carlos's effort to lighten the mood. He shook his head, playing along, but with an underlying seriousness in his eyes. He said:

" 'Leave impulsiveness to you,' Carlos? I'm not sure that makes me feel any more at ease, knowing what you've already pulled, haha. But you're right, of course. Protecting Sakura and Professor Fujimura is the least we can do."

Hearing Shirou, Carlos stood up with a look of feigned astonishment. "Pulled? Me?" Carlos said, feigning surprise. "I didn't realize my reputation was like that."

Shirou let out a short laugh, shaking his head fondly. Sakura giggled softly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Carlos, don't play innocent! How about that time at the summer festival, when you decided the shooting gallery was being 'unfair' to the kids and tried to 'help' the owner calibrate the gun... only to hit a moving target on the other side of the fair with a toy dart? You almost caused a riot!"

Taiga burst into laughter, pointing at Carlos. "Or when he tried to 'rescue' the neighbor's cat from the roof, using those crazy fighting acrobatics, but the cat jumped down by itself and he almost knocked over the house antenna! Yes, Carlos, your reputation precedes you!"

Carlos crossed his arms, still smiling, but now a little more genuine, mixed with a hint of embarrassment. He tried to maintain his composure, but the memory amused him too.

"Alright, I confess my mistakes. I can't be a hero. But never trust a stall owner at a summer festival. And at least I'll help with the dishes!"

Taiga's eyes sparkled, and she slammed the table with enthusiasm, nearly knocking over a plate. "Ah, Carlos! You saved the night! Shirou-kun, did you hear that?! Carlos is going to help with the dishes! It's a miracle!"

Sakura smiled, clear relief on her face that the mood had lightened again. "That's a lot of help, Carlos-senpai! I was just about to start washing them too..."

Shirou smiled, a genuine, relaxed smile that didn't appear all that often. He shook his head, amused by his friend's sudden willingness. Carlos's phrase about "not being a hero" briefly resonated in his mind, but he dismissed it, appreciating the moment.

"At least you follow through on that, Carlos. And yeah, never trust festival stalls. Now, come on, before Professor Fujimura decides to 'help' and breaks everything."

"Hey! I will help perfectly well! I just... get a little too enthusiastic!" She laughed, grabbing a dish towel.

Sakura got up and headed to the kitchen. "I can wash and Shirou-senpai can dry," she offered, already positioning herself by the sink.

Shirou replied, "Alright, Sakura. Thank you." He smiled at her, then picked up some plates.

"I saw your brother this morning, Sakura," Carlos said with a smile, posing an innocent question. "He seemed fine. I haven't seen him around much lately. He used to be quite a friend of yours, didn't he, Shirou?"

Sakura hesitated for a moment, the smile on her face becoming a bit strained. She quickly averted her gaze to the sink before replying in a low voice. "Yes, Carlos-senpai. He was... well, fine, yes. And... yes, Shirou-senpai and my brother were good friends in school."

Shirou paused what he was doing for a moment, a wet plate in his hands. A thoughtful expression appeared on his face upon hearing Shinji's name. He wiped his hands on the dish towel. "Yeah, we were. Shinji and I studied together since we were kids. He was always... well, himself. But we got along. It's a shame he doesn't come around anymore like he used to. I guess he's busy with his clubs at school."

Taiga, who was vigorously drying a glass, shook her head. "Ah, youth! They change friends like they change clothes! But Shirou-kun has so many friends, don't worry, Carlos! There are always people around here!"

With the Emiya household kitchen now clean and organized, Taiga and Sakura said their goodbyes to Shirou and Carlos, grabbing their shoes by the entrance. As Taiga and Sakura moved slightly away from the door, Carlos held Shirou by the arm, lowering his voice:

"Shirou, I think it's really cool that you're spending time with Sakura. She's a very kind girl. We just need to be careful with Shinji. He seems strange after he kicked you out of the archery club. I don't know if he'd be jealous of his sister."

Shirou listened to Carlos attentively, but a calm smile soon appeared on his face, mixed with a hint of disbelief. He shook his head, as if Carlos were worrying too much. "Jealousy, Carlos? No, that's silly. Shinji can be a bit... loud sometimes, I know. And the club thing was just... well, his way. He gets like that when things don't go exactly as he wants. It's just how he is."

Shirou gave Carlos a friendly pat on the shoulder, trying to reassure him.

"Sakura is fine, Carlos. She knows how to take care of herself. And Shinji... he's her brother, after all. Don't worry so much."

"Yeah, maybe it's just me worrying. I'm not used to these changes in friendships. Maybe I need to learn to be calmer from you. Well, I'm heading off now, thanks for tonight. See you tomorrow at school!"

Shirou smiled, nodding his head. Carlos's concern, though downplayed, touched something in him. But the comfort of routine and the presence of friends always brought him back to his center.

"You don't need to learn to be calmer, Carlos, you're great just the way you are. And thanks for coming! See you tomorrow at school! Take care on your way back!"

Carlos waved once more, a genuine smile on his face, and turned into the night, disappearing down the path. Shirou slowly closed the door, the silence of the house, once filled with conversation and laughter, now returning to its usual tranquility. He sighed, thinking about the peculiar day, Taiga and Carlos's warnings about dangers he didn't perceive, and his own need to keep everything in order. It was a night like any other, and he hoped tomorrow would be too, despite everything.

He turned to the living room lights, which were still on, and turned them off. Even though it was late at night, he went to the shed to perform the usual training his adoptive father had taught him. He sat before various objects, closed his eyes, and chanted: "Trace On." Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep on the floor, surrounded by various parts.

During the early hours of the morning, Hypnos did his work well. Emiya Shirou dreamed of memories from his conversations with Kiritsugu. He met his father during his hospitalization, having been rescued as the sole survivor of the great fire that occurred in 1994. Kiritsugu was direct in his decision: Shirou could either go with the man he'd never seen before or go to an orphanage. His father's sincerity was straightforward and objective, yet affectionate, nonetheless. He simply admitted to his son that he was a magus. And at Shirou's request, he began teaching him magic. It was with his father that he also adopted the dream of being a hero of justice. His father, who already experienced life's difficulties, told his son that it wasn't possible to save everyone. If you save one person, another goes unsaved. Even so, Shirou remained loyal to his ideals. While recalling his experiences with his deceased adoptive father, visions of a glamorous, highly detailed sword came and went in his dream.

Carlos Eduardo also dreamed that night. Unlike his friend or classmate, he valued going to bed early. It was important for someone who valued martial arts. However, that night, he couldn't fall asleep as quickly due to an itch on his arm. With the whole house already silent, he went to his father's office. His curiosity about that Mage's Association had been on his mind. But respect for his father and a lack of obvious clues made him give up searching further. He stopped near the bookshelf and contemplated his father's collection, from which he sometimes took books to daydream about chivalric tales. He often thought of his friends Shirou and Issei when reading them.

When he finally lay down, he had strange dreams, with various images dancing in his mind. Witches fleeing priests dressed in red. Another was the fight of a Japanese soldier against a strange monster, losing his eye in combat. Some glimpses of memories also appeared mixed with these images. One of them seemed to be the same images, but they were childhood memories: people dressed in white shouting prayers until their throats were dry, and the uproar of stones and glass bottles thrown against the place where Carlos's father performed the "gira," the name of the Umbanda ritual. The memory of the last guide in Brazil reappeared in his dream. It was after the last attack on the terreiro. The guide incarnated in a participant and said to Carlos's parents:

"My child, this is not your place. This is not good ground for bowing your head, child. Doing Saravá is good, but you are not meant to stay here. Your boy is very, very special. He is a warrior, he is a mage, and though he enjoys wrestling with men, he will truly find joy under a woman's skirt. That is why Xangô calls him. He is Xangô's servant; he must become a warrior and bring justice to the land of the rising sun. There, where the sun rises, the Lord is being profaned. The land of the sun, your wife knows what I speak. It is there you will live well. Here, do not quarrel in Brazil; it is a good land, it is the Lord's land, but do not bow your heads here."

Strange images also appeared in Tohsaka Rin's dreams. The first visions were of a sad man, regretting a dream. Exquisite at what he did yet trapped by his own desire. This image dissipated as she was invited into another dreamscape. It was an open, relaxing space in a jungle, and in the middle, a large lake rested. People around danced and invited Rin to follow the rhythm. She didn't know this music, but for some reason, it evoked certain feelings in her.

She began to feel as if she was being invited into a trance. What kept her conscious in her dream was the very use of her magic circuit, as she realized this was no longer a normal dream. She doubted it was an attack from a Caster, since her house's magical barrier was extremely strong, and Archer would have noticed something too. She simply waited to see what the dream would lead to.

The same people who danced gently took Rin's arms, inviting her to participate. They brought gifts to the lake: perfumes of incredible sweetness, golden honey pots as if they were gold, and beautiful yellow flowers. They sang and proclaimed loudly:

"Ora yê yê ô, Oxum! Ora yê yê ô, Oxum!"

In an instant, a beautiful and graceful woman emerged from the lake, throwing some gifts into the water, while others she wore, perfumed herself with, or ate. With the greeting continuing, she danced with the presents. At a certain point, the woman signaled for the music and dance to stop. In a profound silence, everyone bowed, awaiting the woman's orders. She then approached Rin and asked one of the dancers to be her spokeswoman. The dancer listened to the woman and said to Rin:

"She says she sees Ishtar and Ereshkigal in you, daughter. You are strong, a warrior. Here, you are all very wounded. She asks if you will take care of your land?" The woman awaited the answer, inquiring firmly, but with gentleness and care in her gaze.

Rin felt apprehensive. Not because she sensed any threat; the apprehension came from the entire unknown situation. It was hard to believe in dreams, and this one was much more difficult to filter than a simple premonitory dream. The question was serious and seemed to demand more responsibility than she had imagined when participating in the Holy Grail War.

"Yes, I will take care of it," Rin replied to the woman.

With a beautiful and affectionate gaze, the woman smiled back at Rin. Without saying a word, she turned to the lake and jumped into it. It wasn't long before she emerged from the water, carefully and lovingly carrying an object in her hands. She blew on it and handed it to Rin. The spokeswoman then replied to Rin:

"This is called a 'muiraquitã'; it is a valuable object of power, protection, and healing. She said you know how to use jewels. Think of it as one."

The woman smiled again and made a gesture of farewell. When Rin opened her hands, she was startled to see that the "muiraquitã" was the origami parakeet. At that moment, she woke up. Archer had made breakfast for her. It was a day she would take off from class to show Archer the city and plan strategies for the war. Even so, the dreamlike visions that had afflicted her still lingered in her mind. Without a clear answer, the best Rin could think of was to turn her attention back to her objectives in the upcoming battles.

Chapter 3: The Dawn Bids Farewell in Blood

Those winter mornings were inviting for anyone living in Fuyuki. The darker days of January were timid compared to other years; the sun's rays still presented themselves as heralds of who truly commanded the daytime sky. It was in these moments, as the sun was about to awaken the city's populace, that Matou Sakura, in her impeccably neat school uniform, would open the gates to Shirou's house to help with chores. Shirou and Taiga had grown so accustomed to Sakura's presence that she had been given an extra key to the house.

For Sakura, receiving the key felt like a triumph for her efforts. A year and a half ago, she learned from her brother, Shinji, who, enraged at Shirou, had expelled him from the archery club. Shinji, like the other club members, admired and knew that Shirou's skill with the bow was not normal. He was absolutely brilliant, even if he didn't express delight during practices or championships. Shinji refused to believe that his friend had injured his shoulder at work, forcing him to miss a decisive championship moment. Concerned about him, Sakura went to Shirou's house, whom she didn't know very well until then, to offer help. Taiga, at first, was against leaving a girl alone in his presence. But Sakura was persistent and came every day to offer help with household chores. In a short time, she quickly learned to take care of the house while Shirou rested his arm. And Taiga simply took advantage of having extra rest time after classes; she couldn't say no to the delicious food Sakura learned to cook. Her concern for Shirou was so great that she barely remembered the fight Carlos Eduardo had with Shinji over his friend's expulsion, leading Carlos to almost break her brother's arm. He was only stopped by Kuzuki. After that day, Carlos and Shinji stopped speaking to each other. Sakura's brother avoided him at all costs.

After that year and a half, Sakura was practically part of the family and knew how Taiga and Shirou behaved. Upon reaching the house's courtyard, she found the shed door open. She knew the probability of Shirou having fallen asleep in the shed while fixing some trinket was high. It was a scene that amused her, and one of the moments she felt happiest was being able to be alone with Emiya Shirou. With her gentle and delicate manner, she softly touched his shoulder and said:

"Good morning, Senpai."

Shirou couldn't tell if it was the sun's rays or Sakura's smile that had woken him. But her sight was magnificent. Shirou watched her sitting delicately beside him. She was no longer just a girl. To him, she possessed a sweet and gentle beauty. Her violet eyes greeted him with great satisfaction, and her long, purple hair was adorned with a red ribbon that held part of it to the side.

"Good morning, Sakura," Shirou replied.

"Did you fall asleep again messing with your machines, Senpai?" Sakura asked, playfully picturing Shirou in dusty overalls, yet still concerned for his well-being.

"Oh, I was just working on a heater here," Shirou tried to brush off Sakura's concern.

"Please, Senpai, go get ready before Fujimura-sensei sees you like this. I can make breakfast."

After thanking her, he went to shower and get ready. In the dining room, he saw Fujimura lying down watching television, where a news report warned about gas leaks in the new part of the city, concerning local workers. Meanwhile, Sakura finished breakfast alone. Shirou, frustrated by his guardian's idleness, thought about playing a prank on her. He grew curious when he saw two poster-sized sheets near Taiga. He approached and picked one up.

"What's this?" Shirou asked.

"I picked it up yesterday and brought it today because I thought about inviting you to this festival, but then I gave up and left it there. It's really dangerous to be out in the city these days! So I'm just waiting for Sakura-chan to finish breakfast," Taiga replied, getting up and showing him the poster.

Shirou, who had rolled up the poster he held, seized the opportunity to prank her. Playfully, he said, "You should be helping with breakfast, clumsy teacher!" And at that instant, he swung the rolled-up poster at Fujimura's head.

To Shirou's forgetfulness, Fujimura remembered her Kendo training reflexes very well. She simply dodged the strike, and with a smooth, dance-like spin, she demonstrated how to counter an opponent, precisely hitting Shirou's head.

"Hehehe, you shouldn't have stopped your Kendo club practice, Shirou-kun," Taiga said, mocking him.

Giving up his fight with Taiga, Shirou decided to leave her be. Forcing her to help around the house would be a futile effort. Soon, he went to the sink to keep Sakura company, who was washing the dishes while Taiga turned her attention back to the television. As a form of gratitude for her company, Shirou simply looked at Sakura, and, as if through a mental connection, she understood they should switch roles. While Shirou washed one of the cups waiting in the pile of dirty dishes, Sakura dried one of the plates. She showed all her dedication to the task and found satisfaction in that moment.

In a glance at Shirou's hand, something startled Sakura, as if a ghost had appeared to haunt her. Everyone presents shared the fright when Sakura dropped the plate from her hand.

"What happened?" Shirou asked.

"Senpai, your hand..." Sakura couldn't finish the sentence, struggling to speak, her entire body rigid.

Shirou didn't understand Sakura's reaction. He saw the back of his own hand for an instant and noticed a slight injury, like a burn. What confused him more was her reaction to the severity of the wound. He tried to calm her, saying it was a silly burn, that he must have injured himself while fixing one of the machines in the shed. However, as he spoke to reassure her, noticing her motionless body, her gesture of hiding her hand with the cloth made him uneasy. He held her arm, and with Sakura reluctant, he saw a much redder injury on her own hand.

"Sakura, did Shinji do this to you?" Shirou asked.

"It's fine, Senpai. It's nothing," she replied.

"Understood. Be careful not to hurt yourself," Shirou said, reluctant about her answer but not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He felt it was better to keep her close than for her to distance herself if something happened. Carlos's warning came to his mind, dripping and spreading waves of unease through Shirou. "Anything you need, just let me know. Shall we head to school?" Shirou said in a mild tone, dispelling the heaviness of the situation.

With Sakura's happy affirmative to walk together to Homurahara, they enjoyed the scenery, observing the day, which brought sun rays shining with the gentleness of its mild winter light.

“I’m serious. I don’t think she liked me one bit. I nearly bumped into Kuzuki-sensei when he arrived, and she gave me this icy glare, like she wanted to flay me alive, Carlos replied. “But I half-expected it. The first time he met us was on a festival day, and one of the spirit-guides told him straight up, ‘Stop chasing your own tail! The real flavor comes from helping others — then you’ll learn to appreciate skirts too. You’ll meet a spirited young woman who’ll take a liking to you.’ ” Carlos added, mimicking the guide’s posture and voice.

“What?! Ayako gasped, eyes wide, and Mitsuzuri beside her covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “A guide actually said that to Kuzuki-sensei?! And he… he listened?! Wait—‘chasing your own tail’? What on earth does that mean? And ‘a spirited young woman who’ll like him’… Cadu, are you sure you weren’t daydreaming these weird stories from your shrine? This is pure… witchcraft!” She made a warding-off gesture with her hand, her face a mix of disbelief and fascination.

Carlos laughed at Mitsuzuri’s reaction, he was used to his friends’ bewilderment. “It’s not witchcraft,” he said. “Think of it like the rituals at Ryuudou Temple, with offerings, or in church, with hymns and sacred objects. It’s the same thing. I just can’t tell you what the guide meant. That message was for Kuzuki-sensei alone. Only he can really interpret it.”

“Ah, Cadu, you and your comparisons… She shook her head, still smiling skeptically but with genuine curiosity in her eyes. “If Kuzuki-sensei really took advice from a spirit-guide… well, he’s more unpredictable than I thought!” She laughed, then her gaze flicked past Carlos’s shoulder. “Oh, look—there’s Emiya and Sakura-chan! Let’s go say hi!”

“Hey, Shirou! Sakura-chan! Good morning!” Mitsuzuri greeted with her usual enthusiasm, already waving her hand.

Shirou and Sakura returned the greeting just as Issei approached, his posture perfectly formal.

“Emiya. Matou. Good morning”, he said with a slight nod. “Mitsuzuri. Cadu.”

Carlos forced a smile, trying to match his friends’ energy, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd of students. He was looking for one particular face, one he couldn’t find. Even with Mitsuzuri, Shirou, Sakura, and now Issei by his side, Carlos didn’t look as happy as usual. His grin was more deflated His grin was more jururu, as he’d say, while trying to teach a touch of Brazil to his friends.

Nobody missed the shift in Carlos’s mood. Mitsuzuri, ever observant, was the first to notice.
“Hey, Cadu, what’s with that face?” Ayako Mitsuzuri asked, raising an eyebrow. “You look like you missed the last breakfast treat. Or are you lovesick?”

Issei adjusted his glasses, his usually stern expression softening with curiosity.
“Yes, Carlos, your usual spark seems… dimmed. Is something on your mind?”

Sakura turned to Carlos with gentle concern.
“Carlos-senpai, are you okay? You seem a bit down.”

Shirou chimed in directly.
“Yeah, Carlos, you don’t normally get like this. Did something happen?”

Mitsuzuri’s question caught Carlos off guard. His eyes widened for a moment before he forced a laugh, trying to hide the flush creeping up his cheeks.
“Lovesick? What, me?” he said, indignation edging his voice, though the nervous laugh gave him away. “No way, Ayako! It’s just… I thought it was odd. I saw all my classmates here, but no sign of Tohsaka Rin. She never misses class, right? She’s like clockwork, always so punctual.”

He tried to sound casual, but his gaze kept darting toward the school gates, as if expecting Rin to stroll in any second. Instead of easing his friends’ minds, his rambling only fueled their imaginations. His laughter and awkward excuse lit a spark of mischief among them. Mitsuzuri gave his shoulder a playful tap, a mischievous grin lighting up her face.

“Ah, Carlos, Carlos! No need to turn all red like that! It’s only natural to worry about a pretty classmate, especially when she’s missing!” Mitsuzuri winked at him before facing the others. “See? He’s totally smitten with Tohsaka!”

Shirou just let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. He knew Carlos could be explosive, but rarely did he let a girl, especially Rin, get to him. Yet his concern was clearly genuine.

“She really never skips class,” Shirou agreed, his voice growing a bit more serious. “But maybe she’s just not feeling well. It happens.”

Sakura added, her usual sweetness in full display:
“Maybe she’s sick, Carlos-senpai. Don’t worry too much.”

Issei, oblivious to the teasing and more focused on logic, adjusted his glasses once more. “It’s a possibility. Tohsaka-san is known for her exemplary attendance. An unexcused absence is indeed unusual.”

Mitsuzuri’s playful jab tightened Carlos’s chest, but he tried to hide the pang of anxiety with a forced laugh. He shook his head and waved her off.

“Oh, sure! We have nothing in common! Enough with these stories, Mitsuzuri! Haha.”  He laughed, but the sound never reached his eyes, which still held a trace of worry. “But fair point, Shirou, Sakura-chan, Issei-kun. People do get sick, that’s true.”

He repeated that line more to himself than to them, as if to convince himself. The idea of Rin being ill made logical sense, but it didn’t entirely dispel the strange feeling that something was off, or the simple curiosity about why his classmate had suddenly disappeared.

The five of them drifted with the tide of students through the bustling hallways, each heading to their own classroom. No matter how hard Carlos tried to focus on the morning’s gossip and routine lessons, a small knot twisted in his stomach. Tohsaka Rin’s absence—the ever-impeccable, always-present student—felt like a tiny glitch in what should have been a perfectly normal day. He’d have to wait until she was back on her feet before he could pester her with his “good mornings” once more.

As the school day wound down, Shirou packed up his things, ready to head to work. He strolled through the corridors, replaying the pleasant moments from earlier. By chance—or fate—Carlos appeared beside him and offered to walk part of the way together.

Rounding a corner, Shirou spotted Sakura still inside her classroom. It was her day on cleaning duty. What struck him immediately was her drain of energy: every sweep of the broom looked like she was lifting weights, her movements slow and heavy. Her face was pale, as if all the color had been sucked from her cheeks. Borrowing Carlos’s usual impulsiveness, Shirou didn’t hesitate—he hurried into the room to help her.

“Sakura? Are you okay?” Shirou asked, his voice heavy with concern as he hurried toward her.

Sakura turned around, a weak smile forming on her lips, but her eyes revealed deep exhaustion. “Yes, senpai. I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Carlos stepped forward, his expression growing serious. “You don’t look well, Sakura-chan. You’re very pale. You should go home and rest.”

Despite her initial protests, Sakura’s weakness was unmistakable. She tried to grip the broom, but her hands trembled. Without hesitation, Shirou took it from her. He examined the bruises on her hands again, his worry deepening.

“You’re not going to clean anything in this condition. We’re taking you home,” Shirou decided, glancing at Carlos, who nodded immediately.

The three of them set off to escort Sakura home. The owners of the Copenhagen liquor store could wait—they knew Shirou’s sense of responsibility and would forgive any delay. As they walked, with Shirou and Carlos supporting her by the arms, Sakura felt soothed by their presence. She looked at Shirou with gratitude and affection, a gentle smile appearing on her face.

“Are you all right, Sakura?” Shirou asked.

“Senpai, I remembered a scene from my childhood. On my way home from school, there was a boy who would jump beneath a playground swing. He tried to reach the bar that held the swings. I remember that moment—how he kept trying and trying. It was obvious he’d never reach it; the bar was yards above him. Yet, with incredible stubbornness, he continued jumping, determined to finally grasp it with both hands. That sight fascinates me to this day, because of how that boy never gave up, even though everything was against him. That was the first time I met you, senpai.” Sakura finished her recollection, her voice weak but still tinged with admiration and gratitude.

The three of them remained silent for a few minutes, savoring the simple joy of friendship and the bond between them. As they walked, Sakura seemed to regain both strength and spirit.

At last, they arrived at the Matou residence. Sakura pushed open the iron gates, the hinges emitting a familiar, rusty creak. Carlos studied the building. It was a European-style mansion, reflecting the Belle Époque architecture of the neighborhood—an era before World War I. Tall windows were shrouded by heavy curtains to keep prying eyes at bay, and a solid stone foundation supported walls that seemed well-maintained if not for the creeping moss climbing toward the roof. Towering twisted trees enveloped the rest of the property. He wondered how such a gloomy house fit Shinji’s personality. Shinji was proud; he’d think a place so somber would scare off all the girls he fancied. Lost in thought about Shinji, Carlos realized Sakura needed support. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder, concern etched on his face.

“Sakura-chan, do you want us to come in with you?” he asked.

“No need, Carlos-senpai, Shirou-senpai. I’ll be fine. Thank you so much for bringing me,” Sakura replied, sounding a bit more upbeat because of their presence.

“Just know you can count on us, Sakura,” Carlos said, speaking for both himself and Shirou, who nodded in agreement.

They watched her step through the front door. Once it clicked shut, the evening grew darker and the hum of insects became unnervingly clear—strange for a cold January night. An elderly man, thin and stooped, approached the gate. He wore traditional Japanese robes and used a cane to steady his frail frame. His eyes were oddly clouded, and his smile, unsettling.

“Good evening, young men. Are you all right?” the old man asked.

“Good evening. Yes, we’re fine. We just came to escort Sakura home,” Shirou answered.

“Ah, good. You’re friends of hers?”

“Yes. He’s Emiya Shirou, and I’m Carlos Eduardo Takeuchi Moraes,” Carlos introduced.

“How interesting! I haven’t heard of the Takeuchi in Fuyuki for ages. You were an important family, very close to the Matou,” the elder remarked.

“We know Shinji too,” Shirou said eagerly. Carlos added, “I was close to him at one point. But I also had an ancestor, long before my grandfather, who was friends with a man named Matou Zouken. You must know him.”

The old man chuckled, barely containing his laughter. “Oh yes, I know him,” he replied to Carlos. Then he turned to Shirou and asked, “And the Einzbern girl—how is she?”

Shirou fell silent, clearly unfamiliar with the name, and his expression showed it. The old man then asked one final thing:

“Promise me this: stay friends with Sakura.”

Before they could respond, he slipped away into the shadows, leaving Shirou and Carlos alone.

The friends were stunned by how a frail-looking old man could vanish so quickly. Nevertheless, they continued on their way.

“You never told me your family had known the Matou for that long, Cadu,” Shirou said, a light smile on his face.

“Ah, that was ages ago. My mother mentioned it once. But I only started interacting with them when we met, Shirou. That’s when I became friends with Shinji too. Thanks to him, I met Sakura before she came to help you at home. I was close to Shinji until that day I’d rather not remember—so much anger,” Carlos replied, his voice dropping to a gravely tone as his eyes hardened and his fists clenched.

“I understand, Carlos. I know. It’s okay,” Shirou said, falling silent for a moment before giving his friend a gentle tap on the shoulder, a silent reassurance that everything would be all right.

After they walked along a street where their paths would split, Carlos bid Shirou goodbye, and Shirou headed off to the shop for his shift. As he made his way toward the commercial district, his thoughts kept circling back to what might have weakened Sakura’s health.

He glanced up at one of the tall buildings and, for a brief moment, was certain he saw a familiar figure. It couldn’t be—his eyes must be tired. But there, on the rooftop, stood Tohsaka Rin, gazing out over the city. His heart skipped a beat and he frowned, unsure if it was real or just an illusion. In the blink of an eye, the vision vanished as if it had never been there. He shook his head, convinced fatigue was playing tricks on him.

Arriving home later than usual, he left the morning’s clutter just as it was—posters from Taiga still tacked to the walls—and settled down to practice his reinforcement magic, as he did every night.

What passed with Carlos was a way different than Shirou’s night. He arrived home and noticed a light on in his father’s study. He peeked in, curiosity pushing him forward.

“Hey, Dad—did that call from last night come through again? Did Mrs. McRemitz ring back?” Carlos asked, propping himself against the doorframe.

Pedro looked up from his book with a gentle smile. “Oh, Carlos! No, Mrs. McRemitz hasn’t called again. I guess the matter wasn’t that important to whichever organization she mentioned.”

Hearing her son’s voice, Akemi appeared in the doorway, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “How are you, my son? Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine, Mom—except Sakura-chan wasn’t feeling well,” Carlos said, worry lacing his tone. “Shirou and I walked her home because she felt weak. At the gate, this very old, strange man—who I think must be her grandfather—came out. He gave me the creeps, to be honest.”

Akemi frowned, deep in thought. “Sakura’s grandfather… Matou, right? That rings a bell.”

“What do you mean, Mom?” Carlos pressed, intrigued by her change in tone.

Akemi moved to her armchair and sat down, as if summoning a distant memory. “When I was a child, my great-grandfather was already frail in body and mind. He’d have nightmares that left him furious, and in those dreams he’d shout the name of an old man—very loudly: ‘Zouken!’ My grandfather said there was a deep grudge against that friend after the war with the Russians.”

Pedro lowered his book, drawn into the conversation.

“One of the last things my great-grandfather ever told me was to beware of Matou Zouken,” Akemi continued softly. “He seemed to hold a profound hatred.”

Pedro laughed, shaking his head. “Looks like our son met a ghost, Akemi! Zouken’s the surname that’s haunted the Takeuchi family for generations!”

Carlos and his parents laughed at the joke, amused by the idea that he’d encountered a “familiar ghost.” For a moment, the gravity of that supposed meeting with Zouken at Sakura’s house was lifted by the warmth of family banter and the lightness of the punchline. Afterward, his parents went off to make the final preparations for the Xangô festival.

With his curiosity satisfied and happy to have spent some time with his parents, Carlos headed up to his room to sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day: a BJJ club session in the morning, his capoeira demonstration in the afternoon, and the Xangô festivities that night.

A new day dawned over Fuyuki. As usual for a club captain, Carlos was already on the tatami at the Hamurahara BJJ club. Although he felt unusually calm—no one had shown up to challenge his skills—arriving at school weighed on him with a strange weakness.

Still, he couldn’t afford to slow down. With the BJJ schedule finalized and the capoeira club’s presentation plan ready for the new students, he had plenty on his plate. Now was not the time for weakness.

He joined the flow of students entering the school and stood in the genkan, slipping off his shoes to put on his uwabaki, when he ran into Shirou and Mitsuzuri. Mitsuzuri didn’t look as energetic as she usually did, though Shirou was by her side offering quiet support.

Carlos stepped closer, concern in his eyes. “Good morning, Shirou, Mitsuzuri-chan. It seems something’s not right. What’s going on?”

“Ah, Cadu, good morning.” Mitsuzuri sighed heavily, her usually vibrant face now visibly drained. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “It’s Shinji again. He won’t fulfill his duties in the archery club—and on top of that, he’s been mocking the freshmen, laughing at and humiliating them until they finally hit the bull’s-eye. Shirou-kun’s been helping me, but he’s really getting on my nerves!”

“That’s rough,” Shirou added, concern etched on his face. “Shinji isn’t pulling his weight as vice-captain, and it’s overloading Mitsuzuri. It’s a shame he can’t see the newcomers’ potential and prefers to discourage them.”

Cadu took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger, but it didn’t work. He inhaled deeply again, like a bull charging through Pamplona.

“Seriously, you guys are so patient with Shinji. Mitsuzuri-san, if you want, I can have a word with him.”

“No, Cadu, please!” Ayako exclaimed, holding up her hand to stop him. “Last time you ‘talked’ to him, you nearly broke his arm! We don’t need Kuzuki-sensei stepping in again. If you hurt Shinji, the whole school will turn upside-down! He’ll use it as an excuse to quit the club for good and make my life even harder—and you’d get expelled, which would be a disaster!”

“Carlos, Mitsuzuri’s right,” Shirou said. “We know you only want to help, but it’s not worth stirring up trouble. Shinji is… well, he’s just like that. The important thing is that we keep supporting the freshmen.”

“That was ages ago,” Carlos replied, his voice still thick with contained irritation. “I wouldn’t go that far again, but I know he wouldn’t slack off if I was around.” He saw the genuine concern on his friends’ faces and realized pushing it would only backfire. “Alright, fine. But I still think he needs a talking-to. Shirou, since he’s in your class and you’re close to him, maybe you could try to put some sense into Shinji.”

“I… uh…” Shirou scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. Confronting Shinji was something he’d been avoiding. “I’ll try, Carlos. But I can’t promise anything. You know how he is.”

“Thank you, Shirou-kun! At least someone’s trying!” Ayako sighed, relieved that Carlos had backed down but still frustrated by Shinji’s behavior. “Well, we’d better head to class. Lessons are about to start.”

“Right—have a good lesson, you two!” Carlos waved as he turned toward his own classroom.

“See you later, Cadu! And Shirou-kun, we’ll talk about Shinji afterwards!” Ayako called, hurrying so she wouldn’t be late for first period.

Shirou simply waved back at Carlos and Mitsuzuri. The corridors were rapidly emptying as students made their way to their classes. Now alone, Shirou walked more slowly toward his own room, his thoughts still torn between concern for Sakura, Shinji’s stubbornness, and the strange sight of Rin standing atop the building the previous day.

Then a voice cut through the silence of the nearly deserted hallway.

“Emiya.”

Shirou turned. There she was: Tohsaka Rin, standing a few meters away, arms crossed, her expression serious and unreadable. Her appearance was as sudden as her absence had been the day before. She fixed him with her sharp blue eyes, as if assessing every fiber of his being.

“Tohsaka? What are you doing here? I thought you were absent yesterday,” Shirou asked, surprised.

“I’m fine. Just passing through the hallway, like you, Emiya-kun,” Rin replied, sidestepping Shirou’s concern about her missing school. “I have my own matters to attend to. But,” she paused for a moment, a faint blush coloring her cheeks before her expression grew even more focused, “I have a question for you. It’s about that friend of yours, Carlos Eduardo.”

Shirou, feeling shy at Tohsaka’s sudden approach and unsure how to speak to her after her sarcastic remark, scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Ah, you mean Carlos? Did he hit you with one of his ‘good morning’ jokes again? He’s impulsive like that, but he means well.”

“‘Good morning’ jokes?” Rin echoed, her tone flat and humorless, impatience glinting in her eyes. It was clear she wasn’t here for morning gossip. “It’s not about that, Emiya. I want to know: has he done anything peculiar lately? Something involving”—she paused, sizing him up as if weighing how much to reveal—“origami, or perhaps some kind of strange talisman, like a green stone?”

“Peculiar?” Shirou chuckled nervously, trying to deflect, but the mention of origami made him stop. “Origami isn’t really his strong suit, but I guess it is unusual. When we were kids, he gave me an origami macaw. He said it was a piece of his soul, just for me. He has those more intimate moments if you look past his troublemaker shell. As for something odd recently… maybe yesterday. He seemed genuinely worried about your absence.”

“An origami macaw, and he said it was ‘part of his soul’?” Rin repeated Shirou’s words deliberately, her blue eyes narrowing as she filed the information away. The air around her seemed to grow heavier. She made no comment on Carlos’s concern, focusing solely on this revelation. “I understand, Emiya. That’s very useful.” With a curt nod, she turned and walked toward her classroom.

“He might actually answer if you ask him about origami,” Shirou called after her, a bit more confident now that he’d provided something concrete. “As for the green stone, I’ve never seen one. It could tie into his spiritual practices—he talks a lot about rituals and protective talismans.”

“Religious practices… protective talismans…” Rin murmured to herself, ignoring Shirou’s insistence as her mind already processed the new puzzle pieces. Learning about Carlos’s faith seemed to spark a fresh line of reasoning. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, as a hypothesis began to form.

Without another word—or even a “thank you”—Rin spun around sharply. She looked as if she’d just found the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle and now had a clear objective. She offered no explanation for her abrupt turn, leaving Shirou even more bewildered and alone in the hallway. The silence that followed her departure was filled only by Shirou’s own confusion and the uncanny feeling that he’d become part of something far larger than his ordinary routine.

As the day wore on, break time arrived for students to rest and collect their obento. Shirou stepped out of the classroom and headed for the cafeteria; afterward, he planned to meet Issei in the student council room to repair some equipment. He didn’t see Carlos during the break—his friend was busy coordinating the capoeira club’s opening demonstration with a few classmates.

Walking down the corridor, Shirou noticed Sakura stooping to pick up papers she’d dropped on the floor. The weakness he’d seen in her the day before still seemed to linger. He himself felt an odd heaviness settling over him, a sluggishness without explanation. Seeing Sakura brought a fresh pang of concern. He wanted to go to her side but paused when he spotted Tohsaka Rin helping, and the two of them chatting in surprisingly relaxed tones. That sight startled him—few ever saw Tohsaka interact so casually with anyone.

When Tohsaka descended the stairs with her usual poise, Shirou finally approached Sakura.

“Good morning, Sakura. Are you feeling better today?” he asked softly, still carrying the concern from earlier.

Sakura looked up, a sweet but weary smile appearing on her lips. “Good morning, senpai. Yes, I’m fine. I’m just delivering these assignments to Fujimura-sensei. She’s preparing the English assessment for our class.”

“I see. I hope your class does well on them,” Shirou replied, his gaze briefly drifting to where Rin had stood. A genuine flash of curiosity made him ask, “Was the girl talking to you just now Tohsaka Rin?”

“Yes, senpai. Do you know her?” Sakura asked, her voice growing slightly more restrained, her shoulders tensing ever so slightly. There was a faint trace of apprehension in her posture—something Shirou might not immediately notice but was definitely there.

Unaware of her shift in mood, Shirou simply nodded. “I know her. She came to speak with me today about a personal matter,” he said casually, scratching the back of his neck as if that brief, strange conversation about Carlos were no big deal.

“Still roaming the school, Emiya? You’ve got plenty of chores now that you’re President Issei’s handyman.”

Shirou paused, caught off guard by Shinji’s smug tone. He tightened his grip on his bag strap, mind racing for a calm reply.

“I—just wanted to make sure everything wrapped up okay,” Shirou managed, voice steadying as he met Shinji’s sidelong glare.

Shinji chuckled, flicking his hair back. “Always the good little helper, huh? Don’t burn yourself out before tomorrow’s big demo.”

Shirou forced a nod, heart still hammering. As Shinji strolled off, Shirou watched him go, uncertainty tugging at his thoughts—between supporting his friends and facing Shinji’s barbs, this had become an even longer day than he’d expected.

“I’m here to help—if you ever need anything, just ask. You’ve never been much good at fixing bows, Shinji.”

“Hmph. I don’t need someone who quit the club,” Shinji shot back, brushing past Shirou. He spun his own version of events—after all, he was the one who kicked Shirou out. Then he turned and strode down the hallway.

“Shinji, wait— I need to talk to you,” Shirou called out.

“Sorry, Emiya, I’m busy. Whatever it is can wait,” Shinji replied coldly.

But Shirou wouldn’t relent. He stepped forward, urgency in his voice. “I really need to know: did you cause Sakura’s hand injury?”

Shinji froze, disbelief flashing across his face. He hadn’t expected Shirou to confront him so directly.

“What’s wrong with her?” he scoffed.

“Don’t play dumb,” Shirou said firmly, indignation rising. “Aren’t you two brothers?”

A flicker of anger crossed Shinji’s features—he looked stabbed in the back. Gritting his teeth, he closed the distance until they were nose to nose.

“As if I’d know anything about her,” he hissed. “Watch yourself—being brothers gives you no right to meddle.”

“You don’t know how she got hurt?” Shirou pressed, his concern shining through.

“No, I don’t. Are you saying she blamed me?” Shinji shot back.

“No, she didn’t say that.”

“See? It’s ugly to throw around accusations,” Shinji retorted, his sarcasm a thin mask of victimhood.

“Sorry for doubting you,” Shirou said, his guilt for the brief mistrust softening his tone.

“If you really feel that bad, do me one favor,” Shinji replied, voice laced with passive aggression. “Take care of the archery club’s mess and clean up after them. I can’t afford to be late for the restaurant—I promised those girls I’d meet them.” He shrugged, a challenge in his eyes. “If you were so eager to help with the bows like you said, I’d appreciate it. That’s it.” With that, Shinji turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the conversation—and any possibility of further discussion—firmly closed

Shirou, hoping he could do Shinji some good, made his way to the archery club—somewhere he hadn’t set foot in for a long time. With effort and dedication, despite a strange weakness weighing on his body, he straightened and cleaned the dojo. Later, with the school empty and darkness beginning to cloak the buildings, Shirou stood in the archery dojo, absorbed in finishing up the cleaning. The silence was almost absolute, broken only by the sound of his own movements.

As he wiped the floor with a cloth, a sudden light from the window caught his attention. It was an intense red glow, too swift to be a lightning flash, accompanied by a resounding impact that made the windows tremble. The clash of blades grew steadily louder. Intrigued—and with a mounting sense of foreboding—Shirou dropped the cloth from his hand and sprinted toward the school courtyard, where the noise seemed to be coming from.

“Well, well.”

Without realizing where the strike came from, Shirou simply lost his breath. His chest wouldn’t pull air into his lungs. When he looked down, the tip of a spear was piercing his torso. It had emerged from the ether and become visible—along with its wielder, who continued speaking:

“Today is not your lucky day, boy. Since you saw me, your only possible outcome was death. Dead men don't tell tales.”

With a disappointed expression at his impaled victim, he went on: “Use your last gasps to curse life for giving you neither luck nor power. I know—it’s absurd that I’m doing such a shabby job for a hero like me. Well, I’m done here. I’ll be a good servant and carry on with my mission.”

The strange man then turned and walked away, leaving the unfortunate boy behind.

In terrible agony, Shirou summons the last of his strength and watches the man vanish as if by magic. He can’t feel it, but his uniform is soaked with blood pouring from his chest, forming a dark pool on the floor. His vision blurs as he begins to lose consciousness, lamenting that he’s failed his father, Kiritsugu, unable to live long enough to become a hero of justice. This was his final experience before the end.

Chapter 4: Responsibility Doesn’t Dissolve into Chaos

The scent of freshly brewed tea filled the air, spreading its soft but inviting aroma throughout the Tohsaka household’s living room. The place looked pristine, as if a Servant hadn’t recently shattered the furniture during a summoning. A feat of Rin’s magical containment—or perhaps just luck and the careful diligence of her newly summoned Archer.

Her Servant, whose identity Rin still didn’t know due to his memory loss, brought the tea to serve his Master. The tea set was beautiful and ornate, carried on a silver tray. The Tohsaka family clearly spared no effort in acquiring elegant and refined utensils. After setting the tray on the coffee table, Archer stood ready, upright and alert, prepared for anything that might threaten him, his Master, or their goal in this secret war.

Rin picked up her teacup. As much as she longed to enjoy the warmth of her morning tea — and the delight of skipping school—her peace was ruined by the dream that had irritated her. She dismissed it as redundant; after all, she of all people knew she was responsible for the magic guarding this land, passed down by the Tohsaka. The dream had simply pointed to a danger harming the land. And what war comes without danger?

What irritated and puzzled her most was the origami parakeet she now held. Previously, she hadn’t felt any magic from it. But after waking up and looking for its post-dream, she unexpectedly sensed a faint mana radiating from it — an intensity equivalent to the pendant her father once gave her.

She examined the origami coldly. How could a mere piece of paper have hidden that kind of mana? Her lips tightened ever so slightly. Tokiomi, her father, had been a first-class mage — his research alone earned the Tohsaka family vast sums from the Clock Tower. That pendant held immeasurable magical and financial value. How could a simple origami parakeet, made by some impulsive, chaotic boy, carry similar energy? "Impossible," Rin thought.

As far as she knew, Carlos Eduardo was an ordinary person — he shouldn’t be capable of imbuing mana into objects. That kind of magecraft took years of training. And to inject mana through dreams? She had never read about anything like that. To her, this was an anomaly that demanded investigation.

“Could he be a magus?” she asked herself. But the answer, to her, was no. There were no signs. Loud, impulsive, completely amateur in concealment. If he was a magus, he’d be the most incapable she’d ever seen. And yet... this energy she felt was pure, natural. Not the result of a low-level spell. It was as if the "soul" of the paper—or the intent behind it—was infused with energy. That defied everything she knew.

Could he be psychic? No, that didn’t add up either. Psychics were rare and didn’t channel mana like this. Something about this was fundamentally different.

She glanced at Archer, who maintained his pose but couldn’t hide his curiosity at his Master's unusual silence.

“I didn’t know my Master paid so much attention to origami. Is it helping you strategize for the war?” Archer’s voice dripped with his usual sarcasm; eyes fixed on the paper in Rin’s hand.

“You don’t get it, Archer. Look closely at this parakeet.” Rin responded coolly, placing the origami on the table before taking a sip of tea. Her voice calm yet challenging.

“I can feel strong mana in it,” Archer acknowledged, voice neutral, but with a glint in his eye. “Expected from someone like you.”

“I didn’t make it,” she said, hiding her irritation that her Servant thought she’d care about such trivial objects. “What’s strange is how much mana it has — especially after last night’s summoning.”

“The land is saturated with mana during a Grail War. Anomalies are expected,” Archer said more seriously now. “Magus might exploit that for their strategies.”

“Could it be...” A thought crossed her mind. “Archer, your sharp analysis is useful.” That was the closest thing to a compliment he’d get from her. His comment sparked a possibility: the origami might be a catalyst. Carlos, ignorant of the magical world, could become a Master — or worse, be targeted by one.

Her eyes narrowed. A hidden Master or catalyst was a danger, or a powerful ally. Worse yet, he could be a catalyst for something bigger, something unseen in the city. The idea that another Magus or Servant might have already detected this anomaly was even more troubling.

If Carlos Eduardo was just a “commoner” with this peculiar trait, he would be a valuable, vulnerable target. Not just a distraction, but a risk to the Grail War—and Fuyuki itself. An unacceptable variable. Rin needed to uncover the truth—not from curiosity, but out of strategic necessity.

Maybe her original plan was still best — know the terrain, as Sun Tzu advised. But now she had a compass: a magical anomaly causing ordinary people to carry mana. Her first hypothesis was some kind of magical contagion.

“Archer, get ready. Today, I’ll keep my word and show you the city.”

Rin stood and went to her room. When she came back, she was the picture of elegance in her school uniform — black skirt and matching tights, a light-yellow vest over a white blouse with a red ribbon, and a red overcoat that framed her long black hair and deep blue eyes. Archer smiled slightly, alert for danger, and dematerialized.

They arrived downtown. Rin subtly surveyed the city as she walked among the people. By nightfall, she climbed a tall building to scan the city from above.

“Tell me—don’t we have a beautiful view here?” she asked Archer.

“We could’ve come here first if all you wanted was the view,” Archer replied, clearly annoyed.

“Oh, quit whining,” Rin replied sarcastically. “You only feel the city when you walk among its people.”

“Not for me. The Archer class has this name for a reason.” He boasted, “From here, I can count every tile on that bridge miles away.”

“That’s amazing!” Rin said, clearly impressed.

“Are you mocking me?” Archer grumbled.

“Not at all,” she replied with a faint smirk.

Then she noticed someone in the crowd below recognized her — someone from school. Worse, it was Carlos. He could see her, even from the rooftop. That shouldn't be possible. She cursed her luck. She didn’t want to be recognized right now.

“That’s him. I’ll investigate more tomorrow,” she muttered.

“You spotted someone?” Archer asked, ready for action.

“Just a schoolmate. A normal guy... but he might offer useful clues,” she replied.

Then Archer took the opportunity to ask, “Rin, you were trained since childhood for this war.”

“Yes. It’s the Tohsaka duty to win the Grail. A generational responsibility.”

“Then I hope you know what you want. I can’t entrust my blades to someone without purpose. Rin—what’s your wish for the Grail?”

“I don’t have one,” she replied bluntly. “Wishing to rule the world? Nonsense.”

Archer was stunned. The Holy Grail was supposed to grant any wish. Her answer was unimaginable.

“Then why fight?”

“Because there’s a war. A challenge. And now, I have the responsibility to show why the Tohsaka guards this land. I can’t let someone else tell me it’s wounded. As a Tohsaka, I must protect it. In the end, I fight to win. Simple as that.”

“I don’t get that last part,” he admitted. Yet, he felt honored to have been summoned by her. “You truly are my ideal Master. I couldn’t have asked for better.”

Rin, caught off guard, blushed slightly. She didn’t expect that kind of recognition. Yet, she held her posture proudly.

Back at the mansion, before sleeping, she called her mentor Kotomine Kirei to report that she had summoned Archer. He offered her something her parents had left, but she refused—part defiance, part strategy.

After hanging up, she turned to Archer. “Remember your name yet?”

“No.”

“Ugh, that’s annoying. Makes it harder to gauge your strength.”

“What matters is that I serve the strongest Master in this war.”

“Well, that’s true. And luckily, your identity remains hidden. I’ll help with your amnesia. But for now... goodnight.”

She went to sleep, and at dawn, prepared for school. She braced herself for Shinji’s flirtations and Carlos’ annoying “good morning”, though she secretly expected it. Before any other thought could distract her, the image of the muiraquitã came to mind.

She held it briefly inside her schoolbag. Investigating Carlos wasn’t just curiosity anymore — it was a necessity.

As she set foot inside the school gate, a crushing pressure struck her. A wave of mana in the air weakened her instantly. She sensed something horrific—a magical barrier had been erected over the school. Why here, of all places in the city? Was it connected to the muiraquitã? To Carlos?

Instinctively, she reached into her bag and grabbed the amulet—and to her astonishment, the oppressive feeling nearly vanished.

Rin’s eyes widened, barely concealing her shock. The mana’s crushing pressure, which had just moments before weighed on her like iron chains, receded like a tide. Not entirely, but enough to make her feel lighter. It was the muiraquitã. The strange origami-turned-talisman, which had seemed like nothing more than a quirky classmate’s joke, was actively countering a magical barrier cast by a Magus.

Impossible, she thought in disbelief. Magical barriers were advanced, requiring either continuous mana input or complex rituals. For a mere amulet—without runes, enchantments, or any signs of Western magecraft—to neutralize one, even partially, was beyond the laws she knew. It wasn’t just passive defense. It was actively disrupting the field, as if absorbing or reflecting the mana.

The implications were terrifying. That artifact possessed defensive magical capabilities surpassing many of the Tohsaka family’s tools. This wasn’t the work of a clumsy magus or a mere psychic. This was magic from an entirely different system.

Carlos Eduardo... The name now echoed in her mind not with irritation, but with a new layer: dangerous mystery. He wasn’t just eccentric—he was a focal point for a magical anomaly that could have catastrophic consequences for the Grail War. The barrier only confirmed it. The “danger” from her dream wasn’t symbolic—it was real.

What had started as a cool-headed investigation was now laced with urgency. This wasn’t just curiosity — it was a race against time. She had to understand what Carlos Eduardo represented, and how this unknown magic might affect the war. He couldn’t be left wandering Fuyuki with such a powerful, mysterious item.

Since she had arrived early at school again, Rin seized the moment. She headed quietly to the library, hoping to uncover more about the term that echoed in her mind since her dream: Muiraquitã. Searching for “origami” would lead nowhere. She needed cultural context—something related to Carlos. She remembered how often he talked about Brazil.

That was it. She found a compendium on Brazilian culture and flipped quickly to the index. There it was: Muiraquitã. A green riverstone carved into animal shapes, said to offer protection and healing — especially to warrior women.

That was enough for now. Before anyone noticed her presence, she left. The bell was about to ring, and it was time to return to her role as model student. As she walked through the corridors, she spotted Carlos’ group separating into their classes. Swiftly, she intercepted Emiya Shirou, asking if he’d noticed anything strange about Carlos.

Shirou’s response helped her form new theories as she walked to class. Throughout the lessons, she tried to connect the clues.

“The soul.” “Religious practice.” “Protective amulets.” Shirou’s words resonated with what she had read: Muiraquitã—a spiritual artifact, tied to legend and tradition. Created by someone unaware of magecraft, yet still infusing it with intent, making it genuinely magical.

Rin shuddered—not from fear, but from professional unease. Magi had sought for centuries to connect soul and magic, usually through ancient rituals. Carlos seemed to do it instinctively, unaware—and with results that rivaled her own crafted jewels. Was it raw genius? A rare innate skill? It felt close to True Magic.

He was connected to mana in ways she couldn’t replicate or even understand. Worse, he was unaware of it. A perfect target. A living catalyst. She couldn’t let him walk freely around Fuyuki.

Now, she had enough to justify closer observation. She had to see this “religious practice” herself—maybe during his capoeira club’s opening demonstration. Still, being classmates gave her ample opportunity to watch him.

During the lessons, she kept one eye on him. He just stared out the window, doing nothing unusual. Rin, while pretending to read, whispered to Archer in his spiritual form.

“Archer, do you feel something odd?”

“I feel it, Rin,” his voice echoed in her mind. “But it’s the mana being drained by the barrier.”

“And the boy? Back row, same row as me?”

“Nothing,” Archer replied, puzzled.

“Ugh. I’ll have to observe him during his performance.”

“You think he set the barrier?”

“No. We’d feel magic from him. Either he’s an expert at hiding it, or he really is just a ‘commoner.’”

Her mind was at war. The barrier consumed mana all day—that was one problem. The other was Carlos. As chaotic as he was, he emitted nothing now. The unpredictability was the most irritating part.

Between classes, a classmate asked Carlos about the last history exam—he’d aced another one. Rin kept her eyes on them while pretending to read.

“Eduardo-kun, how are you so good at history?”

“Ah, nothing much. I’m just lucky.”

That word made Rin nearly tore the page of her book. Lucky? Her forehead twitched with irritation. Success came from sacrifice and meticulous planning—not luck.

“How come?”

“My dad’s a professor of history and philology at Osaka University. He’s got a huge library I always sneak into.”

“Oh, that explains it. Still—must take talent! You’re a genius, Eduardo-kun!”

Carlos waved it off. “Nah. The real genius is Issei-kun. He puts up with me asking for club funding.”

The conversation ended, but Rin’s frustration grew. He wasn’t just a magical anomaly—he was a personality anomaly too. Sharp mind, deep knowledge, and yet so carefree. She, who dedicated her life to training, saw a “commoner” surpassing expectation effortlessly. It was insulting.

He was an affront to everything she stood for. She had to understand his power—and the chaotic nature behind it.

The bell rang for lunch break. Rin slipped away from the crowd, heading for the gym where the capoeira demonstration would take place. She hid in the shadows of the entrance, blending in with the other students.

Carlos appeared, wearing a different outfit. It wasn’t a kimono, but a sports jacket to fend off the cold, which he soon took off, revealing white linen pants tied with a cord-like belt. The music started—not violin or modern J-pop. It was metallic, one-stringed, rhythmic and strange, mixed with traditional Japanese drums. Raw and full of energy.

Carlos struck an unfamiliar pose. In an instant, he placed his hands on the floor and began moving his legs as if floating. He moved with stunning fluidity—like a mix of dance and combat. Light, agile, yet forceful. He wasn’t “demonstrating” a skill—he was living it.

As Rin watched, something stirred. The rhythm reminded her of the party music from her dream. Then she noticed: mana was emanating from him. Slowly at first, but then more steadily. It wasn’t a magic circuit being activated, it was a constant flow, a natural aura.

Her jaw tensed in hidden shock. His dance wasn’t just movement—it amplified the energy around him. Not aggressive like an attack spell, but natural, like water flowing or plants growing. He wasn’t storing energy — he was channeling it through his body, in real time.

Shirou had been right. This “religious practice” was more than ritual—it was a conduit for ambient mana, drawn in instinctively and used through his passion.

Rin’s mind was blank, trying to connect this to her knowledge of prana, odic force, and magical theory. She, heir of a prestigious magus family, was witnessing something completely new. Carlos wasn’t a magus—he was the embodiment of a magical philosophy she had never seen. For him, mana was as natural as breathing.

Her irritation toward him began to shift. As with her precious jewels, he too was a rare discovery—an asset in this war.

Before the performance ended, Rin slipped away unnoticed. But as she turned, she felt a new wave of energy.

“Rin, did you feel that?” Archer’s telepathy broke the silence.

“I did. A Servant,” she said, her voice hardening.

“What now?”

“We wait. He won’t attack with a crowd here. He knows the war is secret.”

“And until then?”

“We find the barrier’s anchors. I won’t let trash like this linger on my land.”

Her determination, once analytical, was now deeply personal.

Class resumed, and as the day wore on, the sun slowly dipped beneath the horizon. Students trickled home—except those in after-school clubs. The only one missing from the Brazilian jiu-jitsu club was Carlos, who had to head home early. Rin, still in silent pursuit, noticed something vital: the third mana source—the unknown Servant—had not followed Carlos. It remained at school, along with the bothersome barrier.

She switched to her second strategy: identify and dismantle the barrier’s anchor points. Night had already fallen when Rin began nullifying the magical symbols scattered across the school grounds. One of them led her to the rooftop. As she prepared to dismantle it, a voice interrupted her:

— “Well, well... Didn’t think you’d stay behind to face me, little lady,” said a lean young man, his eyes sharp, dressed in a detailed blue armor.

— “Was it you who raised this barrier?” Rin asked without flinching.

— “Nope. I wouldn’t do such a crappy job.” He replied. “And you—how long do you plan to stay hidden?” His tone shifted to something darker and more serious.

Rin stiffened. He had noticed Archer’s presence—even though her Servant was in spirit form, invisible. That confirmed it: this man was a Servant.

She barely had time to react. In the blink of an eye, a spear was hurled at her. Rin dodged just in time and broke into a full sprint. With no better escape route, she threw herself from the rooftop.

— “Archer, handle the landing!” she ordered.

He appeared just in time, catching her in his arms and landing safely. He set her down, and they kept running. There was no time to look back. Rin focused all her strength on her legs and lungs. But there would be no easy escape.

She stopped on the school’s sports field — an ideal battleground for an Archer-class Servant. There, the spearman caught up with them, now standing firm, spear in hand, staring them down. The tension was unbearable. Archer stepped in front of Rin, shielding her, eyes locked with their opponent. The blue-armored warrior showed no hesitation in flaunting his weapon—clearly proud of his martial prowess.

— “Now this is more like it! No frills, just action!” Lancer said, getting into an offensive stance. “Little lady, your Servant doesn’t seem like Saber.”

Then to Archer: — “And you... who are you?”

Archer said nothing, keeping a firm posture, ready to counter. Lancer continued, already guessing he was facing an Archer-class. He was trying to goad his opponent into drawing his bow. But Archer didn’t move a muscle. He just stared —calculating the moment a weakness might reveal itself.

Rin watched with growing intensity. She wanted to provoke him into action:

— “Archer, you won’t get any help from me. Show me what you can do.”

A glint of amusement flashed in Archer’s eyes. He smirked and sighed, then summoned his twin swords—one white, one black, both adorned with Tao symbols. He assumed his fighting stance, and in an instant, lunged at Lancer.

The battle erupted.

Metal clashed against metal. The shock of each strike reverberated like a violent gust of wind shattering windows. Lancer, thrilled, showed no restraint. He clearly held the advantage in close combat—his strikes shattered Archer’s blades one after another. But there were two things that infuriated him: first, Archer kept re-materializing new swords seconds after each was broken. And second—he was a damn good close-range fighter for an Archer.

— “What’s your name? Why does an Archer fight like a swordsman? I’ve never heard of a bow-wielder who dual-wields blades!” Lancer shouted mid-battle.

— “Tired already? Trying to stall to recover mana?” Archer mocked.

— “Trying to provoke me, you second-rate Servant?” Lancer snapped, his irritation barely concealed. “Seriously, what kind of Heroic Spirit are you?”

— “I don’t owe you an answer. But you’re easy to recognize. Son of light... from Ireland.”

— “So I don’t have to hold back with my famous move, then?” Lancer’s grin grew darker as he shifted into a new, aggressive stance. Mana flared around him, his gaze sharp and wild. He looked like a beast ready to land a finishing blow.

Archer remained in defensive stance, poised for a counterattack.

Rin, observing everything in awe, felt the atmosphere change. The mana radiating from Lancer was unmistakable—he was preparing to unleash a Noble Phantasm. A heroic legend’s ultimate attack. The air freezes. The schoolyard fell into complete silence.

Then—everything changed.

From the shadows, a new figure emerged. A witness.

— “Who’s there?!” Lancer barked, immediately halting his strike.

The battle paused.

Archer fell back, no longer the immediate target. Rin froze in horror—an innocent had wandered into the battlefield. A civilian had witnessed the Grail War.

Without hesitation, Lancer bolted after the intruder. No witnesses could be allowed. Rin panicked. She had failed. She couldn't let a civilian die because of her oversight.

— “Archer, go after him! Now!” she shouted, desperation cracking her voice.

She too ran in the same direction, legs burning, heart pounding. She hated this rule of the war—no witnesses. She’d tried so hard to avoid collateral damage. She ran up the stairs in a frenzy, and there, found Archer standing still facing the victim, now collapsed in a pool of his own blood.

Archer seemed unmoved by the sight.

Rin bowed her head in grief.

— “Archer... go. Find Lancer. At least figure out who his Master is. Otherwise, this whole fight was a waste.”

— “Understood.” Archer replied curtly, and vanished.

Rin approached the body. She sat beside it—just to be there, to offer comfort in the final moments.

— “I’ll stay here with you, until the end,” she said bitterly.

But then—she saw the boy’s face.

— “No... no, it can’t be you! Why did it have to be you?! How can I look her in the eyes tomorrow?!” she cried out, devastated.

It was Emiya Shirou.

Heart racing, Rin pulled out her pendant—the one her father had entrusted to her. It was her last hope. With trembling hands, she cast a healing spell using the pendant as a catalyst. Mana surged into Shirou’s body, bathing him in golden light. His wounds began to close. He started breathing again.

He was alive.

Rin stood, her heart still pounding. Before leaving, Archer contacted her telepathically:

— “Rin… Lancer followed the anomaly. The boy with the artifact. He’s hunting him now.”

— “No... not another one!” Rin cried. “I’m responsible for this. I won’t let another tragedy happen on my watch!”

In her panic, she dropped the pendant—it landed beside Shirou, still unconscious.

With Shirou stabilized, Rin sprinted toward Carlos. She poured mana into her legs, pushing herself faster. She had to find Lancer—before he reached Carlos Eduardo.

Chapter 5: Who Gets the Greetings First

The day was long and tiring, Carlos thought. He walked back home after closing the club activities earlier than usual. Since he stepped into the school, it seemed like his energy and vigor were slowly fading away. He felt a deep regret for not being able to intervene in Mitsuzuri's situation with Shinji. Seeing his friend tired was heartbreaking for him. He also felt the same way about Shirou. The capoeira club's presentation for the school took up much of his time, preventing him from giving more attention to his friend. He knew that leaving Shirou alone gave him the opportunity to fix appliances and tidy up the school's messes. Carlos felt more at ease and was grateful for the warmth and help from Sakura. However, she hadn't been feeling well since the day they accompanied her home. Another reason for him to be furious with Shinji. "Thank goodness we've kept our distance," he thought to himself. These thoughts dragged along with him on his way back home. Carlos tried to shake them off by reminding himself of the chores awaiting him at home tonight.

The afternoon breeze blew, reminding him that winter reigned even without snow. The neighborhood was calm and quiet, with residents still making their way home. As Carlos turned the corner towards his house, he suddenly stopped. An image caught his attention.

He saw, standing on the slope, the figure of Sakura. She was motionless, as if frozen in place. He couldn't see her face, as she was far away and turned away from Carlos. The complete scene included a taller man with blonde hair and expressively red eyes standing in front of her. He could easily go unnoticed with his attire of a black leather jacket and black jeans, but his demeanor and posture carried an overwhelming sense of pride and arrogance that made Carlos feel ill. The man seemed to be saying something to Sakura, and after that, he walked away, descending the slope.

That entire situation didn't seem right. However, Carlos wasn't sure about what to do, or if he should intervene. Although he felt the urge to remove Sakura from that state, he feared making things worse rather than better. If he acted, both could end up in trouble. He didn't want his friend to face an even more difficult situation. It was already a heavy burden to be Shinji's sister. Unsure of what to do and on impulse, Carlos hid from both their sights. When the man left, he stood up and tried to look for Sakura, but in vain. She had already gone home. Carlos felt tied down once again regarding his friends that day. Despite his mind urging him to check on Sakura to see if she was okay, his body hesitated, reminding him that his duties called him home.
That was an important day when he couldn't afford to be absent. His father had talked to him about starting to participate more emphatically in the rituals at the terreiro (2).

The terreiro consisted of a plot of land large enough for about twenty to twenty-five people to sit comfortably, but not excessively large. There were two main rooms. The first, near the entrance of the place, was filled with long benches for several people to sit on.
The second room, with a different entrance, led to the rest of the Moraes family's house. This room was where the altar was located, filled with statues of saints, statues for receiving offerings, and images of orixás (3). In the center of the altar, above the statues, there was a large statue of Jesus Christ, positioned right in the middle of the entire room. Apart from the altar space, the room was empty. Carlos's family positioned themselves in this room, with Pedro organizing the festivities, leading the drumbeats, and Akemi defumating the area with scents of rue, rosemary, lavender, and guiné during the ritual. Beatriz still didn't participate actively, but she watched her parents perform the songs and aid along with the participants.

Some people were already preparing for the ceremony. Unlike what occurred in Brazil, the Japanese dressed in more restraint and tidiness than they would for work, although there was no dress code for the gira (4). They were also quieter, waiting silently during the songs, but as if in an introverted trance, it was noticeable that they were fully present in body and spirit. Over the years, some neighbors had become active members of the festivities, many helping and being initiated into the ritual. After years with the Moraes family established, the neighborhood no longer found the party days strange, although many understood it as a branch of the local church located in the residential part of Fuyuki, or others as a different form of Shintoism and ancestor reverence. What mattered to Pedro was not having lost the family tradition and being able to help with the spiritual growth of his community.

Pedro was in the final preparations before opening the curtain that separated the altar room from the area where the spectators were gathered. He was setting aside some plates of food. Carlos brought a few bottles of dark beer to assist his father. Pedro gestured for his son to place the bottles near a pot. Inside it was a recipe with okra, and Carlos, silently observing, noticed that his father was dividing the recipe between two plates. However, there were two other pots: one with a preparation of cassava flour and another empty. A wave of curiosity drove Carlos to speak up.

"Why is there an empty pot, Dad?" Carlos said, unable to contain his curiosity, placing the bottles on the ground near the pot with okra.

Pedro then replied:

"There's still no clarity on what to offer with the flour. I've left some options cooked, but it's still not clear what to offer."

"I don't understand, Dad. Isn't the offer prepared? You've got the okra dish and the beers, that seems enough. People are already waiting."

"It doesn't work like that, son. Did you forget one detail?" Pedro asked.

Carlos remained silent, his puzzled expression clear enough to reveal a blank screen where the question hovered in his mind. Pedro didn't wait for a response.

"There are several reasons, and each place tells a different one. But I like the following the best." Pedro then briefly continued to tell the following story:

"Exu (5) was the youngest of the orixás and owed reverence to all the elders, meaning he was always the last to be greeted. Seeking advice on how to gain respect from the older ones, he was told to acquire three red parrot feathers. One feather was to be worn on his head, with nothing else placed on it for three months. One day, Olodumare (6) summoned all the orixás to report on the care of the earth. Everyone brought grand gifts, so large they had to be carried on their heads. Only Exu carried nothing, in respect for the ritual. In front of Olodumare, they all prostrated themselves. Olodumare, reading everyone's minds, recognized Exu's great respect for the ritual by wearing the red feather on his head. Thus, he declared: 'He respected the taboo and brought nothing on his head, showing true submission. Therefore, he shall be my messenger. Anything you wish shall be through Exu. For his mission, let him receive the greetings first.' And that's why, in any party, Exu is the first to receive greetings (7)."

"Did you understand the story, and why do we need to think carefully about what we offer?" Carlos looked at his son, interpreting whether it conveyed important lessons.

"After telling the story, Carlos remained silent. He reflected on the story, pondering how it impacted his daily life more significantly.

"Did you understand, son?" Pedro asked, his voice calm but full of meaning. He stood up from the floor where he had placed the pots. "The offering isn't just the food we provide, but our readiness to serve. We need to think calmly and reflect properly on what to bring and how to serve it. It's our respect. The one who is prepared, even if with empty hands, receives the honor of being heard first."

Carlos looked at his father. The story resonated in his mind. He thought about Mitsuzuri dealing with the club, the loss of a friend due to Shinji's self-nurtured arrogance, without any means of reconciliation. Now, Sakura was showing signs of discomfort and unease, especially after encountering that strange man on his way home. He felt unprepared. It wasn't enough to be the leader of a BJJ club or to know how to handle himself in a fight. He had nothing to offer but his sense of helplessness. He respected how each person acted and did not interfere. He respected their freedom, but this left him feeling powerless, unable to act, or to feel that he was truly helping.

"But... what if we have nothing to offer?" Carlos asked, his voice low, more to himself than to his father. "What if we freeze up?"

Pedro smiled, understanding his son's doubt. He placed his hand on Carlos's shoulder, offering comfort but also focusing on delivering an important piece of advice.

"The offering isn't just what we bring, but who we are, my son. The willingness to help, to care, to be ready for our big family that are the people of this world. Don't worry, life will show us which 'pot we need to fill.' Sometimes, our respect, dedication, and strength are enough to fill that pot. When we start the ritual, I'll see with what we'll fill it. Shall we begin?"

Pedro opened the curtains. Positioning himself near the altar, he began the initial drumbeat, setting a contagious rhythm of adoration and celebration, while the scent of rosemary and lavender herbs intensified, fumigating the area. However, that night, a great sorrow and a strange lethargy began to overtake everyone. It was peculiar, a clear dread omen. Pedro, with his eyes dimming and body weakening, watched as his family fell as if a drowsiness had struck them. The same drowsiness affected the spectators, many already collapsed on the floor, unconscious. At that moment, Pedro felt an impulse that might seem strange to others. Gathering his last reserves of strength, he went through a door near the altar and brought out a pot with liver. He mixed the meat with the cassava flour and, with trembling hands and a staggering body, presented the offering. His final words before succumbing to the darkness were: "receive the greetings first."

Carlos was already on the ground. Despite his mind urging him to get up, he was lost between the despair of seeing his mother, sister, and neighbors fallen and unresponsive, and the sensation of fading, as if he were about to faint from a sudden loss of strength. He wanted to scream, to move, but in vain. He was static, his saliva forming a puddle on the floor. The only clarity he had was seeing his father as the last one to fall. Yet, in a spasmodic movement, Pedro rose contorted. His father lit a cigarette, grabbed one of the bottles of dark beer, opened it, and approached his son. Pedro's gaze was different. He lifted Carlos's head and made him drink the beer. With the cigarette, he took a deep drag and expelled the smoke onto Carlos's face.

"Alright, boy, now you'll feel better!"

"Dad, what happened?" Carlos, still recovering his strength, tried to stand up.

"Not your dad! Pedro burst into a hearty laugh. — Pay attention, boy. I don't have much time. The parasite is messing with egum (8). The time for the warrior to do justice has come! I couldn't protect this gira from the egum. You need to defeat them. Xangô (9) came to tell me he'll give you strength. You're not alone. Oh, if only I could see the pretty girls you're going to meet. Take good care of them, son. Welcome the one who's coming to help you right away. Go and bring justice to this land."

Without giving Carlos, the time to ask questions, Pedro tilted the bottle and poured its contents down Carlos's throat. The boy was released and began to cough convulsively. As he slowly regained his strength, Carlos finally realized that his father's body was being used by the messenger. The messenger stood up, helped Carlos into a sitting position, and began to draw a circle using the remaining drops of beer and ashes from the cigarette he was smoking. He went to the altar and took a red rose, placing it at the center of the circle.

Meanwhile, shadows grew stronger, creeping among the fallen members on the floor. The messenger expelled them by blowing cigarette smoke and splashing beer, which caused the shadows to retreat, stridulating with displeasure.

Carlos watched everything unfold, and despite wanting to believe it was a hallucination caused by the fainting, his mind and heart told him otherwise. The scenes were real. His body grew stronger with each passing moment, and he managed to stand up. Attempting to fend off the shadows, he searched for anything that could serve as a weapon. The only thing he could think of was the other bottle of beer on the ground. He picked it up, broke the bottom off, spilled the drink on the floor, and raised the broken bottle, striking at the shadows with it.

"What nonsense about aligned winds! I am the guardian of the gates of the four directions; I am the one who opens them. And the one who is king reigns in the quarry, on the throne, and comes to deliver justice with his people! I clear the path for the king. I clear the path for this warrior. Let the king who needs to pay for the fire, who needs to pay for the lions come. Come!"

After the chant, a bright aura filled the room. The messenger left the area, and Pedro's body fell to the ground, unconscious. Carlos observed the circle drawn with beer and cigarette ash emanating an energy so powerful that he was fully revitalized. However, he found himself alone in the room.

In front of him, the shadows merged into one, transforming into a large, clear humanoid figure with sharp claws and fangs in its mouth. Carlos took a deep breath, as if gathering all his courage, and blindly lunged at the monster. He deflected one of the creature's arms easily, but when he struck the monster's chest with the bottle, his weapon shattered completely. He was shocked to realize that the black armor was as hard and resistant as keratin.

The monster struck him with the other side of its horrendous hand. The attack precisely hit Carlos's stomach, which was still processing all the unprecedented information. The blow sent him flying against one of the room's walls. His entire body slammed into it, and his only response was a sudden expulsion of air from his lungs.

All he could see was the monster approaching him. His body was unresponsive once more. Again, he felt utterly helpless in this situation. In a moment of desperation, he found himself unable to act. He struggled to stand, roaring in pain, using it as a driving force to keep fighting. With a tremendous effort, he stood up, facing the monster without fear of death.

The monster, devoid of eyes or face, with only a terrifying mouth and claws sharp as razors, approached like a solemn champion. Its mouth opened to deliver the final blow to its prey. Suddenly, the monster's palate was pierced by a vivid crimson blade. The monster, still standing, froze in place. In less time than a millisecond, the same blade tore it in half. The creature dissolved back into shadow and vanished with the winter air's breeze. At that moment, a victorious figure appeared, wielding the sword with great majesty.

Carlos could only stare at the scene as the night deepened into darkness.

Notes:

(1) The original text contains colloquial expressions and references to Candomblé and Umbanda, which have been preserved in the translation.

(2) In the context of Candomblé and Umbanda, a terreiro is a sacred space where religious ceremonies are held. It is often a community center that serves as a place of worship, initiation, and education for members of these Afro-Brazilian religions.

(3) Orixás are deities or spirits in the Candomblé, Umbanda, and other Afro-Brazilian religions. They are intermediaries between the human world and the Supreme Being, Olodumare. Each orixá has its own personality, history, preferences, and areas of influence. Devotees often perform rituals and make offerings to honor and seek the guidance or assistance of specific orixás. The concept of orixás plays a central role in the religious practices and beliefs of Candomblé and Umbanda, serving as spiritual guides and protectors for individuals and communities.

(4) A gira is a ritualistic gathering or ceremony in Umbanda where the spirits are invoked and various religious activities take place, such as prayers, offerings, and possession by spirits. It is a moment of communion and spiritual work.

(5) Exu is a central deity in the Candomblé and Umbanda religions. He is known as the messenger between the human world and the realm of the spirits, the guardian of the crossroads, and the deity of communication.

(6) Olodumare is the supreme deity in the Yoruba religion, which is the basis for many Afro-Brazilian religious practices. He is the creator of the universe and the source of all power and authority.

(7) Exu is often the first to be honored in rituals because he facilitates the connection with other orixás and spirits.

(8) Egum refers to spirits of the dead

(9) Xangô is an orixá associated with justice, fire and thunder

Chapter 6: The Fall of Night, the striking of Blades and the healing light

 

The shadow monster was shattered by an unknown figure during the attack on the Moraes' terreiro. Carlos, recovering from the struggle, gazed at the strange yet incredibly beautiful girl who had appeared before him.

She was a young woman, short in stature but with an imposing posture and a smile of unshakable self-confidence, as if the disaster she had just witnessed was merely a welcome performance. She seemed to have been painted with the brightest colors. Her hair was vivid like the morning summer sun's rays, tied with scarlet ribbons, and her emerald, green eyes sparkled in the dim light. She wore an elaborate crimson tunic adorned with golden details, over a dress of the same color, standing out against the dark evening air. In one hand, she held a sword as unique as her attire, with a broad blade and intricate golden guards.

Her gaze swept across the room, ignoring the fallen bodies, and focused her attention on Carlos. The crimson-clad young woman lifted her chin, as if the world around her had been built solely to serve her. Her gleaming blade described an elegant arc in the air, a movement closer to choreography than combat. The crimson glow of the blade pushed back the shadows that dominated the room, and her golden hair shone like living flames. Her green eyes, full of energy, locked onto Carlos.

"Behold, the stage rises before me! What a magnificent entrance for my grand performance!" she declared.

The girl's aura was so strong that the pressure in the room shifted. She sheathed her sword and placed her hand on her hip, a grandiose gesture paired with a serious look.

"Are you the one who would be my master? The one who plays this grand symphony?”.

Carlos, thrown to the ground, struggled to regain his breath. The pain in his abdomen was intense, but it was overshadowed by the astonishment of seeing the young woman. His mind, still grappling with the shadow attack, instinctively pieced together the events. This woman was no hallucination. But who was she? He couldn't speak. His words and thoughts were stuck in his throat, overwhelmed by both the pain and the magnitude of the scene. He could only stare at her, eyes wide with awe, as if standing before divine beauty.

With the sword resting on her shoulder, she leaned slightly, as if gauging the boy's courage in front of her. Then she smiled, and her clear, almost musical voice echoed through the environment with unshakeable confidence:

"I see a curious gaze in you, praetor. You tremble with pain, but not with cowardice." She pointed her finger at him, proud, like a sovereign before a subject. "Tell me, were you the one who dared to summon me to this stage?"

Even with the room filled with the girl's majesty, there were still people lying unconscious. Carlos's instinct to protect his family surged back, despite his mind struggling to keep up. Gathering his last reserves of strength, he stood up and spoke, his voice trembling but determined:

"Young lady, I thank you for your help. But please, run away, don't stay here. Give me that sword and let me take care of these strange monsters!"

He extended his hands, attempting to grasp her weapon as if it were just any ordinary piece of iron, failing to notice the supernatural glow pulsating from the blade and unable to sense the sacred weight that the sword carried.

The young woman gracefully stepped back, effortlessly pulling the blade out of his reach. A brief, self-assured laugh escaped her lips.

" Umu! Such audacity! The praetor can barely stand, yet he wishes to wield the magnificent sword?" She spun the blade, which shone like a spotlight on stage. "Admirable, but also sheer folly."

She approached him, her eyes gleaming like flaming emeralds.

"A sword is not just iron against shadows. It's a symbol of will, glory, and power. And this sword, my sword, does not belong to anyone who simply reaches out for it."

With a firm step, she lifted her chin:

"If you wish to fight by my side, show me your spirit. Don't flee, don't ask me to flee. For I will never retreat from battle!"

A captivating smile returned to her face.

"So, praetor, answer me: are you just a dreamer lost in delusions, or are you the master capable of sharing in my glory?"

Carlos, dazed, didn't understand any of those words. His body ached, and a burning mark was on his hand. Blood trickled from his mouth and head, yet he tried to make sense of it all. That sword didn't belong to the terreiro. That girl made no sense to him.

"This isn't Ogum's sword! Are you Mrs. McRemitz, who was talking to my dad? Or did you come from Orum[1], through that circle drawn by Exu?"

For a moment, she simply stared at him, surprised. Then she let out an incredulous laugh.

"What? Orum? Ogum? Such curious names..." she repeated as if it were a poorly acted comedy. "What nonsense is this, praetor?"

She tapped the sword's tip on the ground. The metallic sound echoed firmly, as if calling the attention of an invisible audience.

"Listen closely! I am not sent by your gods nor am I a priestess of your delusions. I am a Servant, summoned by your very desire to fight!"

Her eyes gleamed seriously once more.

"This is not a temple. It's the stage of a holy war, a contest for the Holy Grail. And you, whether you like it or not, are my master."

She raised her free arm towards him, as if inviting him to share the stage.

"Decide, praetor: will you cling to names I don't recognize, or will you dare to join this spectacle with me?"

Carlos's head felt like it was about to explode. He knew that continuing this conversation would only increase his confusion. However, people around him were unconscious, not just neighbors but also his family, and shadows still emerged from the walls. He grabbed the girl's hand and, with a sincere face, made a request with little hope of being granted:

"I don't understand what you're saying. But if you're okay, please help the people here! They need it more than we do."

He rushed to the altar, grabbed all the still-warm pots of food, and placed them before her as an offering before dashing off in desperation to help the unconscious people.

The scene left her silent for a moment. Then, a clear laugh echoed through the hall.

"What an unexpected gesture! You offer pots as an offering?" she lifted the lid with the tip of her sword, releasing the warm aroma. "Ha! At least you have some aesthetic sense, praetor. Simplicity does have its beauty!"

Her smile faded as she watched the young man ignore his own pain to help others. Her eyes narrowed in assessment.

"Hmph... how foolish," she muttered. But she stepped forward and raised her sword once more. “Foolish, yet with a heart that does not waver."

She then spread her arms wide, her clear voice filling the room as if addressing an invisible audience:

"Very well, praetor! If this is your wish, so shall it be! As your servant in this war, I will defend this stage and those you wish to protect!"

New shadows emerged, forming faceless black warriors with sharp fangs and claws. With an elegant spin, she charged forward, the crimson blade describing arcs that tore through the darkness. Even amidst the battle, her eyes never ceased to follow Carlos, as if trying to decipher this unlikely master.

Carlos, after ensuring that some people and his family were out of immediate combat danger, returned to the altar. The blond warrior stepped in front of him, splitting the new shadow that threatened to engulf him with a bold smile, showcasing her power and skill. Carlos, however, with no time to mentally thank her for her assistance, ignored her and rushed to the altar. There, he grabbed two swords dedicated to Ogum, the orixá of war.

He gritted his teeth and growled to himself, a new way of gaining strength and dispelling the pain that made him stagger. One of the shadows breached the wall that the mysterious warrior had erected with her sword swings and lunged towards the young man. Carlos managed to block the claws of the monstrous shadow as it jumped on him, both falling to the ground. Yet, a strange premonition invaded his mind, like a mental block. Using the tip of one of the swords, he pierced the monster's chest, causing it to waver and lift off Carlos.

Frustrated, he noticed the shadow still resisting. It was as if the piercing had no significant effect. The premonition grew stronger, like an internal voice, a sixth sense materializing:

"These weapons were not meant for you. They are not your tools."

As the adrenaline slowed down time for him, he felt a stronger calling. On the wall where the altar was situated, he saw what was calling him. He stared at the shadow that challenged him, and with sudden determination, he ran to a weapon hanging there.

The sword-wielding maiden, as she tore through the shadows with increasing anger at having her performance ignored rather than out of frustration with the creatures, watched him with a mix of emotions. "He ignored me!" echoed in her mind. No one had ever dared to ignore her in moments of glory. The outrage was so great that her hands shook with indignation. Her perception of Carlos oscillated between "fool", "reckless", and "suicidal", leaving little room for the next acts of the drama she envisioned in her head.

The frustration and indignation she felt distracted her, and thus her guard was lowered after the last strike of her sword. One of the monsters raised its claws above her head for a final blow. Before the attack could succeed, the shadow was consumed by precise flames that did not harm the surroundings. The other monster, to the left of the girl, suffered a devastating blow and dissipated into the air. Carlos appeared beside her, his eyes blazing with fury, wielding a double-edged axe in his hands.

The girl then reflected that perhaps this young man was no ordinary individual. He had the soul of a warrior. The shock on her face transformed into a clear and musical laugh that echoed through the hall.

"Indeed! What a magnificent spectacle!" she exclaimed, raising her sword once more. "I knew it! My instincts never fail. You're not just any Master; you're like the hetairoi[2] of Great Alexander on this battlefield! One who dares to fight with his own hands!"

The two of them struck down the shadows, one by one, driving them out of the hall. Together, the weapon-bearing companions advanced to the lawn outside the building.

She turned and, with a single stroke of her sword, disintegrated the last forming shadow. Silence descended upon the area, broken only by the ambient air and Carlos's heavy breathing.

She rested her sword on her shoulder, her previously arrogant gaze now filled with admiration.

"Well done, Praetor! You've chosen a worthy weapon! Now, show me what you're truly capable of! What's the next act in this play?"

Carlos, seeing that the shadows had dissipated and the people, though unconscious, were no longer in danger, felt a wave of relief. He relaxed enough to feel his legs tremble uncontrollably, causing him to stagger and kneel on the ground. His chest burned with pain and the need to breathe.

The girl watched his fall with an expression of confused surprise, her previous admiration giving way to curiosity that overcame her haughty demeanor. She approached him with light steps and touched him gently.

"What is this, Praetor? I just praised you for your bravery, and now you kneel before me? Ah, I see! You kneel for a nobler reason than subservience."

She tilted her head, observing him with a more insightful gaze. Her voice carried a hint of admiration.

"Your face is pale, and your breathing is erratic. What folly is this? Did you expend all your magic on your initial acts? If so, then you're not much different from a mere mortal."

Carlos reached up to the back of his neck, and his hand came away bloody. He spoke to his companion:

"If I haven't died yet, I still have strength. We need to remove these people from here. They need medical help."

For a moment, Saber felt uncomfortable, as if the reality of the wound was an unnecessary detail in her performance. Carlos's concern left her incredulous.

"You bleed and yet you worry about others? What kind of Praetor are you who cares for others' health before your own?" she asked, her voice bordering on perplexity.

She stepped closer to him, tilted her head, and pointed a finger at his forehead, as if in reprimand.

"You are my Maestro, your wounds are mine. If you are injured, my glory will be tarnished. Allow me to resolve this triviality. Calm yourself, your wounds are nothing!"

Nero knelt beside him, and her body, which had previously radiated pomp and arrogance, now seemed more accessible and supportive of Carlos's condition.

Carlos, trying to regain his adrenaline, noticed another figure appearing at the scene. It was more subtle and timid, yet he sensed its threatening presence. He saw the gleaming blue armor of the new adversary. As he looked deeply into the expressive eyes of the swordswoman, he pointed towards the figure that tried to hide.

"I still don't fully understand you, but I trust you enough to say we're on the same stage, if that's how you see it. Get ready, because we still have an enemy in front of us."

A light of triumph shone on the girl's face. The arrogance on her face was replaced by deep satisfaction. Her "Maestro" had finally acknowledged her. She placed her hand on her hip, with a superior smile, and turned to face the newcomer.

"Indeed! Magnificent! I believe my stage is large enough for your presence, my Praetor!"

The figure that had been trying to remain hidden stepped forward. His posture was rigid, without any vulnerability, and his eyes focused solely on Carlos. He didn't radiate anger, but rather a chilling, fatal intent.

"We have a rival!" Saber's voice echoed across the terreiro. She pointed her sword towards him with the same grandiose air she would use for a speech. "— Another Servant, perhaps? Let the battle begin! Prepare yourself to face the glory of this magnificent swordswoman!"

The blue warrior stopped, his spear resting by his side. He didn't respond to her grandiloquence. He simply looked at Carlos, his voice cold and sharp.

"The Master. Hand him over and there will be no need to fight."

The direct, cold response caused Saber's smile to vanish. The insult was massive. He didn't see her as an opponent but as a mere obstacle. A fury, which she hadn't felt in a long time, burned in her chest.

"Hand him over? Indeed! What insolence! Do you think I'll give up my main star? He is my Maestro! You dare challenge me, yet try to steal my protagonist?"

Ignoring the argument and the grandeur of his partner, Carlos stepped forward with the axe in hand.

"Are you the one commanding these monsters? Were you the one who attacked these people?"

The blue warrior looked at the young man, a glimmer of impatience in his eyes. His voice was devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to Carlos's anger and Saber's theatricality.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I only command myself. And I command you to follow me. Nothing personal, but I've identified you as an anomaly in this war."

Saber's response was a mix of fury and indignation. Her green eyes flashed, and her superior smile turned into an expression of outrage.

"What?! An anomaly?! How dare you treat my arrival, the most glorious and perfect entrance, as a mere anomaly!" She stepped forward, her sword pointing towards the ground. "— You're just another Servant, thinking you can give orders to me and my master! Your words are nothing but a cowardly attempt to avoid battle!"

She positioned herself with open arms, as if she were a shield for Carlos.

"You should know, Lancer," she said with a clear and strong voice. "— I will turn your 'nothing personal' into a spectacle of glorious victory!"

Silence enveloped the area. Carlos's heavy breathing echoed, and his eyes didn't stray from Lancer's figure for a second. The urgency of battle took over him, overshadowing pain and confusion. He gripped the axe firmly in his right hand and, with his left, lowered the girl's arm that shielded him.

"We're together then. Let's split this sucker down the middle!"

The boldness of his gesture caused her smile to widen into an expression of pure delight. He was a Maestro taking command of the stage. He had overcome his hesitation to join the performance. His soul was that of a warrior.

"Umu! Magnificent!" she exclaimed, twirling her sword with the grace of a dancer. "Truly, we are the main cast! This will be our debut performance, Praetor! Glory will be shared!"

Lancer observed their interaction with a deadly patience. Saber's arrogance and Carlos's brashness didn't provoke any visible reaction on his face. To him, this was merely a problem to be solved. He raised his spear, the tip aimed directly at Carlos's chest.

"Fools." His voice was cold, the blade of the spear trembling slightly. "So be it, then."

Carlos's fury erupted. With a roar of anger, he lunged forward, the heavy axe in his hands. Nero didn't hesitate. With a war cry, she charged alongside him, her crimson blade shining like a torch. The battle now became a fierce dance, and the three warriors moved in perfect synchrony for the clash.

The clang of metal filled the night. Sweat and blood splattered as the three warriors fought intensely. The sound radiated far, breaking the silence of a deserted street, a silence deepened by the neighborhood's attack by the strange torpor. The only one who could hear was Rin, who, along with Archer, pursued Lancer's path in desperation to arrive before a greater disaster.

In his sensitivity to detect mana, Lancer was increasingly irritated to realize that the enemies he had encountered at the school had caught up to him. The situation was more chaotic than his master had anticipated. He deflected the graceful and ostentatious attack of Saber with his spear, his body moving with a cold, calculated efficiency that contrasted sharply with his adversary's theatricality. However, his focus wasn't on her. He directed his strongest attacks against Carlos, who was the weakest link in this fight.

Carlos's axe swings were furious and strong, but lacked technique, driven purely by the warrior's anger in his grip. Lancer knew that by breaking Carlos, the heroic spirit would vanish.

Carlos saw the spearman's weapon thrust forward, but his vision narrowed with adrenaline, focusing not on the blade but on the opening created in the warrior's defense. In a blind impulse, he dropped the axe, which echoed with a heavy thud as it hit the ground, and launched himself with all his body weight against Lancer, trying to knock him down.

The act was so unexpected that even Saber, who fought elegantly by his side, was stunned. Lancer's expression changed for a millisecond. The shock on his face was a fleeting glimpse of emotion, breaking his cold mask of professionalism. The spear, which had been an extension of his body, was hastily used to fend off the attack from the furious boy.

The collision was violent. Lancer, taken by surprise, lost his balance. His armor brushed against Carlos's body, and the tip of his spear grazed dangerously across his opponent's cheek. The blue warrior stumbled but didn't immediately fall. He was shocked to be attacked by an unarmed human.

In a split second, Carlos extended his leg and tripped the warrior, who had no time to react. However, as he fell, the spear that had already been piercing the young man's body struck him fully. An excruciating pain radiated through Carlos's chest as the spear pierced him completely.

The fury in Lancer's eyes faded away, replaced by a look of professional coldness. He stood up, pulling the spear from Carlos's body, which caused him to collapse on the ground. With a tone of disdain, Lancer said:

"There was no need to use my Noble Phantasm. Your Master was foolish, yet still a warrior worthy of dying. The battle ends here. It's unfortunate it unfolded into a fight, but life is indeed unfair."

A wave of blinding rage consumed Saber. She was so overwhelmed with anger that the air around her became dense and vibrant. Her earlier arrogance gave way to pure, overwhelming hatred. She had lost her Praetor, her "heteros[3]", her protagonist. This was no longer a performance; it was a war for vengeance.

"Lancer! How dare you?!" she screamed, her voice erupting in a cry that was not one of anger, but of pain. Her eyes blazed, and the energy from her body exploded in a wave of mana. However, the vengeful battle she sought was thwarted.

Lancer, still gripping his spear, deftly avoided her and kept his distance. He observed her fury without fear.

"I have no reason to continue fighting you. My investigation ends here. I wish you well, whether in dealing with the opponents that are coming, or with your disappearance from this world. Farewell."

He turned and vanished into the darkness of the night, as if he had never existed, without a single sound. The mana wave from the proud warrior dissipated, and her fury was replaced by emptiness, a cold ache in her chest. She was alone, amidst the remnants of a destroyed terreiro, with Carlos's body lying on the ground. The vengeful battle she craved was denied, leaving behind only the pain of loss.

She felt like a failure, unable to protect her Master. Her Praetor lay fallen. Her grand performance had ended in tragedy.

The sounds of battle finally ceased, but the magical energy left behind was like a beacon in the night. Rin, followed by Archer, sprinted through the dark, deserted streets, following the trail that led them to the terreiro. The scene was one of pure chaos: destroyed furniture and instruments, people lying motionless, and the grass outside was burnt. Moonlight illuminated the figure of a young woman in an ornate dress with a red tunic. She stood with her head bowed, her back to them.

Rin's attention focused on the girl who seemed like a ghost, lost in silent grief with her head bowed. The sword was pointed at the ground, glowing with an intense crimson light. Rin realized that a Holy Grail battle had taken place. The sight of Saber, one of the most powerful Servants in the War, put her on immediate alert.

"Saber..." Rin whispered to herself.

Saber sensed the arrival of these new people. She felt the threat from the Servant who was ready with two blades in hand. The other person, who must have been the Master, didn't seem dangerous. Despite sensing the strength of this young magus, Saber noticed her expression was one of caution. For this reason, Saber did nothing, continuing in her silent mourning.

Rin signaled for Archer to wait.

"Don't rush. We don't know the situation yet," she told him.

Ignoring Archer's caution, Rin approached. She was considering how she might convince the strongest of Servants, Saber, whom she had failed to summon herself, to form a contract. With two Servants, she would be unbeatable in this war. Another thought lingered in her mind. Where was Carlos? She had come to prevent something terrible from happening to him.

She abruptly stopped when she saw the fallen body on the ground. The annoying smile, the good morning greetings, the origami gift. Her classmate, the one who irritated her, lay there with his clothes torn and his chest pierced by a spear. Anguish consumed her, and she shouted, her voice choked with pain.

"Why did you do this to him?!"

The girl, still in her trance of grief, turned with red, tear-filled eyes to see her new adversary. Her anger wasn't directed at Rin, but rather at an enemy she regretted not defeating.

For a moment, rage clouded the young mage's judgment, but then her Tohsaka instincts prevailed. She noticed the details: Saber's posture wasn't one of victory, but of mourning. The weapon that had pierced Carlos's chest was a spear.

She vigorously signaled Archer not to attack. Reluctantly, he complied and stood ready.

Rin turned back to Saber.

"I'm not your enemy," she said, her voice low and strained. "I followed Lancer here. He was heading in this direction."

Saber did not respond, her emerald eyes turned red, tear-filled eyes fixed on Carlos's body. Rin approached the young man and knelt beside him, her heart pounding in her chest. It was already challenging enough to deal with Shirou, and now another classmate was suffering the collateral damage of the war. She noticed his hand and realized Carlos was a Master. Taking a deep breath, she courageously touched his chest. Carlos was still struggling to breathe, the air escaping in harsh groans.

Rin's touch was gentle. Unlike Shirou, he was a Master, which meant he was also a target and could meet an early demise in the war. There was nothing extraordinary about that. Nevertheless, she stayed there, present, comforting both Carlos and Saber, who did not take her eyes off him.

Archer approached, evaluating the scene with cold detachment.

"I see no advantage in staying here," his voice cut through the silence. "Since you won't let me finish off this Servant, there's another option. You could establish a contract with her. You have enough mana for that."

Saber clenched her fists, her entire body tense, and cast Archer a blazing look. Though she uttered no words, her green eyes spoke for her. She would not abandon her Master, even if he were on the verge of death.

Rin analyzed the danger in this strategy. Saber had not vanished despite Carlos's critical condition. Even though stunned, she was unwilling to make a new contract and refused to break the bond. Rin didn't know which heroic spirit she was, but it could mean two things: either she was too powerful to be easily discarded, or she would go mad if she lost Carlos, thereby increasing the disaster.

As she thought, a sharp, unexpected pain gripped her chest, unlike the usual logical reasoning she was accustomed to. Unbidden, images of Carlos irritating her surfaced in her mind. They showed his bold smile, the repeatedly given "good morning" echoed in the back of her mind, and the ridiculous origami he had given her appeared.

Almost unconsciously, her hand reached into the pocket of her coat. Rin froze as if sharp blades had pierced her heart; she felt her chest ache more deeply. She had forgotten, but during the day's events, she had placed the muiraquitã in that same pocket.

The gift that had started as a foolish gesture, transformed into an amulet in her dream, now pulsed in her hand. It wasn't cold. It was warm, alive, as if it were breathing. The guilt gnawing at her heart joined with a sharp intuition: it wasn't just magic. It wasn't just logic. It was him.

Rin, without uttering a word, stood up. Her gaze was serious, firm, but not threatening. She realized that the muiraquitã, originally a paper origami, had become a stone, bright and full of mana. She extended the amulet above Carlos's body. Just like she did with her father's pendant, she began to chant the same healing magic.

In seconds, without the need for invocation, the muiraquitã shone brighter and more intensely. Rin was astonished that she didn't need to chant a single word. A warm light enveloped Carlos's body, infusing life and energy into him. A gentle energy flowed through his pierced chest, sealing the wound and restoring his breath. There was no scar left. Still unconscious, he breathed more calmly and softly.

The muiraquitã's glow dimmed but did not extinguish, continuing to pulse as if it still held latent power. For a moment, Rin simply stared at him, stunned. "My father's pendant was consumed in a single use, but this stone remains alive." She thought to herself.

The muiraquitã's brilliance faded, and silence returned to the terreiro.

Notes:

[1] Orum refers to the spiritual world. In the syncretism of Umbanda, it is called Aruanda, and it is the spiritual place of high energies.
[2] The term "hetairoi" comes from the Greek word for "companions" or "friends." In the context of Alexander the Great, the "hetairoi" referred to his elite cavalry unit, which was composed of his closest and most trusted companions. They were the backbone of Alexander's military campaigns and played a crucial role in his conquests. The "hetairoi" were not just soldiers but were deeply loyal to Alexander, often sharing in his victories and defeats.
[3] Heteros is the single form for “hetairoi: companions” in Greek. It means partner or counterpart.

Chapter 7: The clashing swords

The night became colder when it was near midnight. The lungs of Carlos scream to air, and his body attended for its physiological needs, forcing the pleurae in a spasm. The air was freezing, but it never was so pleasurable to feel alive again.

The muiraquitã’s burst of light ended, and silence fell over in the terreiro. Saber was the first to react. She took one step back, and keep her wide eyes, uncapable to hide her astonishment. In all her existence, she already saw healings and spells, but that wasn’t ordinary magic. It’s shine that gives the life back to the boy was pure and instinctive as a miracle. She made a breathtaking smile, full of relief.

“Umu! Not even death dares to rob your splendor, Praetor!” She declared, relaxing her shoulders in face of the danger that Carlos had faced.

The boy keeps breathing deep, as does someone who awakes from a deep dream. There was no pain, nor weakness. On the contrary, he was feeling such vigor like he was asleep for hours. He blinks trying to adjust his vision to the reality around him.

First, he saw the scarlet warrior smiling at him, vibrating like a living flame. After, he raised his gaze, he faced something even more unsettling. His classmate, Tohsaka Rin, stood right before him. Her face was serious, firm, yet with her eyes were filled with an unnamed emotion. Beside her, a rigid figure of a man in a crimson robe, his visage carved in stone, watching him in silence.

Archer’s gaze was cold and calculating, fixed upon the stone that still throbbed faintly in Rin’s hand.

“This was no ordinary magecraft,” he murmured softly to his master. “That amulet is not from this side of the world. If you keep it, it will be both a triumph and a death sentence, Rin.”

She did not answer. Her eyes remained fixed on her classmate.

Carlos tried to stand, still stunned, and his voice escaped almost like a whisper:

“Rin…?”

Suddenly, he remembered the entire event and his near-death experience, his chest impaled. He almost vomited from shock and agony.

Rin took a step forward, instinctively placing her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from pushing himself too hard. Her look was firm, but her voice came out softer than she intended.

“Don't move yet. You...”

She hesitated to express something she wasn't used to. She put her hand in the pocket of her coat where she could still feel the weight of the muiraquitã. And then she stepped back, maintaining her serious posture.

“You shouldn't be alive after that, but it seems you are too stubborn even to die.”

Saber leaned forward with a radiant smile, much more relieved about the situation. Her clear laugh echoed through the terreiro.

“Umu! Behold! My Praetor defies death itself!”

She raised her sword in a triumphant gesture.

“Let all who stand before such bravery bear witness!”

Archer kept his arms crossed, observing the scene coldly.

“Don't confuse luck with strength, kid.” He commented in a dry tone.

Rin shot an irritated look at Archer, as if telling him to be silent without needing words. She then turned her eyes to Carlos, trying to mask her concern with impatience.

“Idiot. Who told you to face a Servant head-on?”

Carlos looked at Rin in doubt, raising his eyebrow.

“Servant?”

He turned his attention to the people in the terreiro. And in shock, he grabbed Rin with both arms, worried, and asked:

“Rin-san, what are you doing here, Rin-san? Are you alright? Were you hurt?”

Rin was surprised by the gesture, stiffening her posture in an automatic reflex. She let out a short sigh and answered ironically, though her eyes softened for a moment.

“I'm in one piece. Unlike you, who decided to play martyr.”

She gently pushed his hand away, as if not wanting to admit the worry she felt.

Carlos reacted in despair:

“Wait, Rin! If I'm okay, help me with the people inside! My family is there. They've all collapsed. Help me while I call an ambulance!”

He pulled Saber's hand to get up, and still holding her hands, he ran towards the hall.

Saber widened her eyes at the boldness of the gesture. But, instead of indignation, a smile blossomed on her lips. She simply let herself be led by his impulse.

Rin, on the other hand, wavered between surprise and irritation. She almost scolded Carlos for moving so abruptly after a mortal wound, but the worried look he gave regarding his family disarmed her. It didn't matter if it was a rival mage family in the war. She still understood the concern for those bonds.

“...Damn it.”

She murmured, running after him.

“This is no time to argue. I'll check on them, but if you faint again, I won't waste another relic on you!”

Archer simply followed his master and looked around, attentive to any trace of danger.

Inside the hall, the environment was saturated with the smell of smoke and sweat, mixed with the tense silence after the battle. While Rin focused on the health and mana situation of the fallen, Saber attended to the victims, laying them down on whatever could make them most comfortable. Archer did not participate. He had turned invisible, keeping watch for any sign of threat.

Carlos returned from inside his house to the terreiro hall. He had called for an ambulance. He didn't know how he would explain the whole situation. Even so, he did what he felt was right. Seeing them taking care of the unconscious, a wave of relief washed over him. But when he noticed his family among the victims, his knees weakened. He let himself fall onto a wooden bench, bent over, and hid his face in his hands. Tears streamed down heavily, his sobs held back in his throat.

Saber looked up upon hearing the crying. Her green eyes, once full of arrogant brilliance, softened with a hint of surprise.

“Praetor...”

She murmured, without finishing the sentence. For the first time, she seemed uncertain of how to act.

Rin, noticing this, wanted to scold him and say there were still things to do, that crying was a waste of time, but she hesitated. Instead, she just averted her gaze for a moment. An expression of discomfort crossed her face, but also of silent empathy. She had never allowed anyone, not even herself, to be seen in a similar state. She tightened her grip on the muiraquitã in her pocket. The relic wouldn't answer this time. She had tried while tending to the victims. An analysis she would need to do on the relic later.

Carlos was not ashamed to cry. He was more concerned with his family members lying unconscious in an inexplicable faint and thinking about what had happened. Images of his father, who had been the temporary vessel for the orixá's messenger, and his advice echoed in his mind. The tears filled his face, but they relieved his chest and clarified his thoughts.

Saber, silent for a few moments, tried to resolve a contradiction within herself. Part of her wanted to shake him, while another part saw in that vulnerability a kind of strength in Carlos's eyes that she wasn't used to witnessing. With light steps, she approached the bench and stood in front of him. Without asking permission, she lifted his chin with the tip of a finger, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Umu... Many would call this weakness.”

Her voice had the same excited tone as always, but there was a way of expressing intimacy.

“But I see a heart unafraid to bare itself.”

She removed her hand, but not her gaze.

“You are human, yes, and therefore you dare to show pain. That is courage. Do not be ashamed, Praetor. But now we must act again.”

The scene bothered Rin, not because she thought him weak, but because she herself knew what it was like to break down in silence, and she had never allowed anyone to see her in a state of vulnerability.

“Idiot...”

She murmured softly, crossing her arms and looking at the ground. She approached, still avoiding looking directly at him, and continued:

“You almost died, and now you're just sitting there. If you have so much energy to dissolve into tears, use it to stand up when your family needs you.”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she disguised it with a deep breath.

The silence of the terreiro was broken by Carlos's choked voice. The desperation on his face was replaced by unwavering determination. He stroked Saber's hands, and then her face, looking at her as if to say, "Thank you for staying by my side." He wiped away the tears with the palm of his hand, looking at Rin with a frightening seriousness:

“If you understand what happened here, please, tell me. If it's a war, then I will fight in it. Rin, why are you here? Who is the man who was with you? Please, explain it to me.”

She felt Carlos's serious gaze and took a deep breath. For a moment, Rin almost wanted to look away, but she remained firm.

“You really are an idiot.”

She said in a low voice, but without the usual irony.

“I realize now you have no idea what war you've gotten into.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, as if trying to hold the weight of her own words.

“But... if you demand answers, I'll give them to you. What happened here was no accident. There is something called the Holy Grail War. Magi summon Servants, heroic spirits. They fight until only one pair remains. It's that simple. The prize is the Grail, an artifact capable of granting any wish.”

She quickly glanced at Nero, then turned her gaze back at Carlos.

“You, are one of those Masters.”

Saber smiled upon hearing Rin's dry explanation. With a vibrant voice, she said:

“Praetor, listen to me! You are my Master, and together we will write a battle worthy of the gods!”

Archer then appears, materializing. He crosses his arms and keeps a cold gaze on Carlos. He says:

“This is not a heroic adventure, and you have already proven how vulnerable you are.”

He shot a look at Rin wanting to scold her.

“If you want to drag him into this, at least be prepared to bear the weight of your decisions.”

Carlos stands up, with a determination that annihilated any trace of pain. He stares at Nero with a fixed gaze and says:

“So that's why you came. Thank you for your help, for answering this call. I'm not one for flowery words. You asked directly if I'm your Master. If this is how the game is played, and this is how I can save my family, I say yes. Let's dominate this stage.”

He ignores Archer as if he hadn't heard anything. He was used to troublemakers and sarcasm. In that situation, avoiding fights and conflict was essential. He turns to Rin, with a serious look, but with a trace of affection that catches her off guard.

“Thank you, Rin, for everything. For saving me. I understand it's like a game. I don't know what you intend for it, but don't expect me to harm you. I would never do that to you. I just want to protect and save my family from this situation. Is there any information I can help with?”

Her heart wavered for a moment before that serious, firm, yet affectionate gaze. It was strange to see him like this. The same boy who always annoyed her with "good mornings" and origami was now there, speaking as if he were someone far beyond a simple classmate. Rin crossed her arms, looked away for a second, but couldn't completely hide the blush on her face.

“Idiot.”

She murmured, more to herself than to him.

“Don't think you can turn this into something as simple as a game. It isn't. People die in this war. You almost died.”

She took a deep breath, regaining her cold posture.

“But since you insist, I already see I'll have to help you anyway before you die again.”

Saber interrupted Rin, excited to follow her master:

“Umu! Well said, Praetor!”

Her eyes shone with pride.

“I thank you for finally giving the answer I longed to hear. Now, you are the Master and I, your flaming sword!”

She bowed slightly to him, with a smile full of confidence.

“Fear not. As long as I brandish this blade, there will be no darkness that dares take what is yours.”

Rin, annoyed at being interrupted so rudely, keeps her gaze at Carlos:

“There is an arbitrator of this war who can give you more answers than I can. His name is Kotomine Kirei, and he is the one who is supposed to maintain a certain ‘balance’ between the Masters.”

She pauses, observing the determination in Carlos's eyes. His seriousness, so raw and different from the calculated tone of the magi, makes her avert her gaze for a moment, as if she didn't want him to notice that his expression affected her. The expression of such affectionate gratitude he had shown her earlier still reverberated within her, making her uncomfortable. Even though she still kept her tone firm. She disguises it by continuing:

“If you want to understand what happened here, he is the person you should turn to.”

Carlos reflected and calculated what he had been told so far. It wasn't much, but with a little thought he believed he could fill in some information gaps. Staying as they were, he wouldn't make much progress in resolving his family's safety. The ambulance was about to arrive. The rest was in his hands.

Now calmer, he was able to position himself more reflectively. He was observing the context he was inserted into. Some pieces of the puzzle were clear enough for him to understand where to fit them. About magi, servants, war rituals. Others still showed large gaps.

He concluded that Saber, as unknown as she was to him, was on his side. Still, she wouldn't comment much with Tohsaka and the man in the red robe present. He realized she wasn't very comfortable with Rin's presence. And his classmate was still tense. He had noticed that even when stating as assertively as possible that he wouldn't cause any harm and was willing to help. She didn't lower her guard. As for the strange man, it was enough to see his eyes. He would kill Carlos and the swordswoman given any opportunity.

Carlos wasn't stupid. Not only from years of combat training, but he also hid his shrewdness from his classmates and teachers. It was no wonder he did well on exams, despite the image of a troublemaker. It was this skill he needed now. He found himself in a stagnant situation. "The best thing to do in moments like this is to take a risk and try to provoke a little, to get more clues." He said to himself.

“Since I've received your help, Rin, the most I can do is tell you what happened here.”

He then said to her and continued:

“It seems one of these servants came here. He had a red spear. After attacking us, and me being hit, he went in that direction, towards the streets.”

The strategy seemed to have an effect when Archer reappears with a cold expression. He crosses his arms and says:

“Hm. That makes sense. Considering the direction he retreated, the probability is clear. Lancer must be going after the survivor who witnessed the fight at the school. If you saved him, Rin, and he sensed the victim's mana again, it's logical to assume he'll now try to finish the job. Eliminating witnesses is the simplest way to avoid complications and is therefore a priority in this war.”

Rin's eyes widen for a moment. Her heart races for an instant. Her expression hardens quickly to hide the tension, but her fingers clench against the fabric of her coat sleeve, betraying her concern.

“There was a fight at the school? Who was the victim?” Carlos asks.

Rin gives Carlos a quick glance and hesitates for a moment, as if calculating how much to reveal. In the end, her voice comes out firm but can't hide a shadow of worry.

“...Shirou.”

The name comes out low, almost as if she didn't want to believe it. She looks away and crosses her arms, squeezing them, as if trying to shield what she feels. The memory of Shirou fallen and the weight of the responsibility for saving him still haunt her.

“If Lancer is after him again, then we don't have much time.”

Carlos's eyes widened. His best friend was in danger. He heard the ambulance sirens approaching. He looked at his family, still unconscious, and realized he could trust the professionals to take care of them. His priority now was different. Without saying a word, he ran towards Shirou's house.

Saber, astonished, runs after him, but not without first scolding her master:

“Praetor! Could you at least give a cue before running off? What an undisciplined master!”

Yet excitement shines in her eyes. She thrills to see Carlos choosing the role of hero without hesitation, even though he completely ignores her.

Meanwhile, Tohsaka shouts, feeling the urgency pulling her along.

“Carlos, wait!”

She runs right after him, irritated, but inside her heart tightens. That impulsiveness of his is frighteningly similar to Shirou's when he risks himself to help others. Worry makes her quicken her steps.

Archer, meanwhile, follows his master, and grumbles:

“Hmph. Two hotheads running to their deaths. And guess who will have to keep them alive...”

He follows the other three, invisible again, always a step behind to cover the rear. He only doesn't scold him more because, sensing Lancer's mana, the path was indeed correct. The new clash was at Emiya's house.

Carlos, nearing the block where his friend lives, starts losing his breath. He stops, knowing that Rin and the others were behind him. Saber is at his side. The girl's face becomes more serious, even though she still maintains a smile of readiness for a new confrontation.

Still at the corner of Emiya's house, before even reaching the gate, sounds of blades echoed through the house's yard, muffled by the closed wooden door. Rin ran alongside Carlos, both trying to reach the gate of Emiya's house. Before anyone could react, a blue shadow leaped over the wall and disappeared into the darkness of the street. There was no way to pursue it.

Behind the shadow, another figure appeared and jumped from the walls of Emiya's house. Unlike the other figure, this one advanced towards the group without hesitation. The weapon she wielded, kept invisible, cut through the air like thunder.

The onslaught was so fast that Archer, materialized to protect Rin, barely had time to react. The blow would have pierced them both if Saber hadn't intercepted it, the clash between the two swords producing a metallic roar that echoed throughout the neighborhood. Because of the block, it was possible to see that the figure was a girl with blonde hair and a blue dress over gleaming armor, with an intense air and a serious expression on her face.

The force of the impact threw Carlos's servant backward. Rin and Archer were thrown to the ground. Carlos barely had time to think because Saber pushed him before the opponent's second strike could hit him. Rolling on the ground, the young man got up staggering and, without thinking twice, ran towards the unknown blonde girl. Unarmed, but driven by instinct, he attacked from the side, grabbing the warrior's arm and neck, trying to immobilize her.

It was a mistake.

She did fall to the ground, surprised by the tackle. However, even on the ground, her strength was superhuman. In the blink of an eye, the blonde threw him far away with a kick, making him hit the wall. She rose in one fluid motion, dodging Saber's counterattack. The two swords, one visible and the other not, collided again, sparking in the air.

Before the clash could continue, a voice echoed from the house entrance, laden with urgency:

“Saber! Stop!”

Everyone turned.

In the doorway, Emiya Shirou stood, panting, but alive. His face dirty with dust, his gaze a mix of confusion and determination. The blonde warrior obeyed instantly, stepping back, still in a defensive stance. But her position was locked. The girl then replied:

“Shirou, have you gone crazy!?”

Carlos blinked, trying to understand.

"Saber?"

The name sounded wrong. Not the red one, but the blue one answered his friend.

The red Saber, still with sword in hand, turned her body towards Carlos, seized by pure indignation:

“Umu?! Praetor!”

Her voice thundered.

“Another warrior bears the same title as mine? What an unforgivable affront!”

She took a step forward but stopped upon seeing Carlos's firm gaze. That calm, yet decided look made her contain her anger for a moment.

Shirou immediately ran to Carlos, completely forgetting the surrounding danger. His expression was one of pure astonishment. And his mind was unable to process how that familiar face could be there.

“Carlos?! What... what are you doing here?!”

He exclaimed, kneeling to help him up.

Carlos accepted the support, still panting and his body aching from the collision. Once on his feet, he pulled Shirou into a tight hug. The gesture came before he could express it in words.

“I was worried about your safety, my friend.”

Shirou froze for a moment, surprised by the raw sincerity of that gesture amid the chaos. Then, he returned the hug, still not fully understanding what was happening.

The scarlet Saber observed the scene with furrowed brows, her body tense. Her confident smile had disappeared, replaced by an assessing and distrustful look.

“Umu... Praetor, is this your ally?”

She asked with a voice laden with caution and disguised jealousy.

On the other side, the blue Saber also expressed confusion but disapproved of her Master's attitude of dropping his guard to assist another man. She was still on guard.

“Shirou, retreating from an enemy without assessing the situation is imprudent.”

She said firmly and incredulously.

“Even if you recognize him, we cannot presume his intentions.”

The street fell silent.

During the situation, Rin was getting up, brushing the dust off her coat. She simply observed everything, considering that this was outside the control of the war's rules. Identical servants in title. Were there seven masters, or eight? Was it possible? Meanwhile, Archer stood ready. He told Rin via telepathy to get out of there and let that group kill each other. She, on the other hand, didn't think it was good to let things unfold as they were.

Rin sighed deeply. The adrenaline that had kept her on her feet since school was beginning to give way to growing mental exhaustion. She cast a glance at Carlos and then at Shirou, and the realization hit her like an inevitable weight: both were inside the war, and neither of them had any idea how it worked. For a moment, her gaze wavered. Responsibility tightened within her. Lancer's attack, the anomaly at the terreiro, the summoning of a second Saber. Everything revolved around failures in the balance that she, somehow, felt obliged to fix.

The air was charged. Three servants faced each other, and of the three masters, only she saw herself capable of acting strategically at that moment to avoid the chaos of a new battle that could break out. She then stood up and spoke, with the sharp irony of someone trying to disguise relief:

“Good evening, Shirou-kun. Calm down, there's no need to greet us like that.”

Shirou, still panting, looked at Rin, then at Carlos, and then at the two girls. Confusion was stamped on every feature of his face.

“What is happening?”

He asked, his voice laden with the confusion he felt.

Straightening her shoulders, Rin raised her tone of voice, sounding firmer than she felt.

“It's better if we can sit down somewhere. That way we can at least calm tempers.”

She said, glancing at the two Sabers, who were still exchanging suspicious looks.

Carlos's Saber replied with a more relaxed posture, but her gaze still alert:

“Umu. A temporary truce, then? So be it.”

Shirou's Saber remained still for a moment, then lowered her guard slightly, obeying the silent order in Shirou's gaze.

“I agree. She replied taciturnly.”

Rin crossed her arms and observed the two boys. One with a confused expression, and the other with a strange determination. She murmured with a touch of irony:

“Let's go. Before someone decides to prove a point with a sword again.”

That group now faced each other under the moonlight, their destinies having just become intertwined.

Chapter 8: From Tea Encounters to Conflict’s Infusion

The atmosphere in Shirou's room was one of bewilderment for all participants. Thanks to Rin, they were now all guests in his house. Both she and Carlos had discovered that Shirou was a rather poor mage. She took responsibility for fixing the window that Lancer broke when he threw him into the backyard of the house.

Shirou recounted what happened while serving them tea. He had been attacked again by Lancer. They fought all the way to the shed, which was his magic workshop. And in a flash, Saber answered his call and fought the enemy. She was injured while managing to dodge his noble phantasm, which made the spear always hit its target. The positive side was that she now knew Lancer's name.

The red Saber broke into a wide grin and said:

"Umu! We also faced Lancer!" she declared, puffing out her chest with pride. "It was a heroic fight, worthy of an epic! And I'm unharmed, see! Not a single wound!"

Pleased with herself, she crossed her arms and fell silent, observing the reactions around her. The girl in blue, however, remained silent and did not rise to the provocation.

Rin sat silently drinking the delicious tea, but inside she was astonished. Shirou was a terrible mage. He didn't know the basics and even broke rules like telling everyone where his workshop was. It was absurd. It was a gathering of two idiots.

As for Carlos, she didn't even know what to think. He had been impulsive until now yet appeared thoughtful. She didn't know if he was paying attention or not. He hadn't reacted like Shirou, surprised by the idea of magic or the summoning of a Servant. He had just accepted it. And from his Servant's reaction, he didn't restrain her. Then there was that unknown relic in his coat pocket. Everything escaped the models she had learned since childhood.

"If he continues like this," she thought, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in her chest, "he'll die from recklessness." And, in a way she didn't want to admit that scared her more than Shirou's stupidity.

Carlos did not reprimand his partner. For him, everything was very confusing yet understandable at the same time. His worldview and the earth's energy came from Candomblé. Something neither Shirou nor Rin knew about. For a moment, he was amused by his Servant's reaction and felt at home with his friend. He was unaware that any provocation could cause a fight between the two warriors.

On the other hand, he understood Shirou's partner. She said what was necessary so her Master could have better information. But she said little about the enemy, even though Carlos shared the same experience. It was best to wait and see what the next move would be.

Other thoughts were more personal. While Shirou made tea, he had called Fuyuki Hospital for news about his family, explaining he would need some time before he could offer better explanations, and to inquire about the procedure. Besides, he had no other relatives or guardians present. And lastly, he felt frustrated at the possibility of being closer to Rin at a time that was not encouraging for him.

To make things worse, he was sitting across from her, unable to bear that image. The way she carried herself while drinking tea, and even with all the night's commotion, her uniform was still impeccable. He was memorizing every one of her traits and mannerisms. His body reacted with heat and chills at the thought of not knowing what to do. He daydreamed, delighting in Rin's voice, even as she was direct with Shirou, explaining about the Grail War, Servants, and Command Spells.

Rin continued:

"For more details, talk to the mediator of the war. All I can guarantee is that you have no choice but to fight and use your Servants well."

He then realized he had gotten lost in his own thoughts. He just looked up at Tohsaka, seriously disconcerting way:

"Did you get hurt during that fall, Rin? Are you okay?"

She seemed surprised. Amid Servants, war, and strategies, Carlos was asking about *her*. She averted her gaze, crossing her arms, as if it were irrelevant.

"...I'm fine," she replied in a tone too dry to be completely sincere. She took a deep breath, recovering her usual composure, and then returned to what she considered important.

Carlos, in an attempt not to appear unaware of what was being said about the war, said in the most serene and casual tone to Shirou's partner:

"Saber, right? You said you were in an incomplete form. What would that be?"

The girl then replied:

"Yes, Shirou cannot provide me with enough mana."

Shirou doesn't understand the subject being discussed.

Rin then explains how Masters provide mana to Servants. And to make the two aware of what they’d got into, she said: "Even so, she had enough strength to throw you far away, Carlos. And Shirou, you must be a complete novice. Good thing you have such a careful Servant."

She then said to the blue Saber: "I didn't expect such honesty from you, Saber."

Saber simply replied directly: "This way, Shirou learns the necessary information from an enemy."

Rin is surprised:

"You are a woman of exceptional character."

And meanwhile, a flash of frustration hits her as she remembers the effort she put into the summoning. She couldn't help but exclaim:

"Ah, what a huge waste! If I were Saber's Master, this war would be won! The worst part is that two appeared and I didn't summon a single one!"

Shirou, confused, said:

"Are you saying I'm not worthy of her?"

"Of course you're not, idiot!" Rin retorts.

Carlos didn't feel offended, but he wouldn't let a provocation go unanswered. Whoever it was from. Then, with a mischievous smile on his face, he said:

"It wasn't for lack of trying on your part, Rin. They just didn't want to answer you. We work in a more fun way, don't you think?" He nudged his Servant, looking at her cheerfully, seeing if she would understand the provocation.

The red Saber raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased. Her smile widened, and she placed a hand on her chest, adding:

"Umu! Fun and glory go hand in hand. If someone tried to summon me without enough passion, then it's only natural I chose another call."

She crossed her arms, satisfied with herself.

Rin slowly narrowed her eyes. For a moment, it seemed she would retort with immediate sarcasm, but she held back. Carlos's comment had hit her deeper than she wanted to admit.

"Summoning a Servant involves compatibility and circumstance. And it's not 'fun'," she completed, turning to face him again. "It's dangerous and full of variables you don't understand yet."

Rin crossed her arms again, resuming her practical posture.

"Anyway, this discussion only reinforces what I've already said. From here on out, I won't help anymore. We need to talk to the mediator. He needs to know we have two Sabers and maybe he can clarify something." She takes a step towards the door.

No one questions or objects, as her stance is firm enough. Carlos made a point of encouraging Shirou, even though he didn't want to bother anyone in the middle of the night.

The only difficulties were with the Servants. The blue one, with little mana to stay invisible, insisted she would not remove her armor. She accepted a yellow raincoat to avoid drawing attention. Shirou had gotten ready to leave and had placed the red pendant from his pocket in a drawer in his room. He waited at the house gate.

Carlos thought his Servant wouldn't offer resistance, since her dress didn't look like armor. However, she refused to look like a commoner, without elegant clothing. He insisted on dressing her with what he had available. He grabbed a hoodie he had forgotten there, and a leather jacket, jeans, and boots, part of Fujimura-sensei's mess.

In the room, the scarlet girl stood still for a few seconds, looking at the clothes extended in Carlos's hands as if he had just offered her rags from a battlefield.

The silence lasted long enough to become awkward, and she looked up, offended.

"Umu."

She took the leather jacket with two fingers as if it were dirty and raised it to eye level.

"Praetor, dost thou dare ask me to walk the streets in this?" She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, clicked her tongue in annoyance. "...Hmph," she murmured. "What a cruel trick, Praetor."

To encourage her, he thought of some mischief.

"Come on, look at this soft fabric!" He put his face against the hoodie, rubbing it. "And it's still red! It matches you and you'll look very stylish. Trust me!"

She froze for a moment, seeing him rub his face on the hoodie, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She blinked several times in bewilderment, turned her face to the side, bringing two fingers to her lips, clearly trying not to laugh, and failing miserably.

"P-Praetor..." Her voice came out a ton lower than usual. "Thou... thou truly dost not comprehend the weight of thy words."

She reached out and pulled the hoodie to herself. She ran her fingers over it, felt the softness, then looked at her own reflection in a mirror in the room.

"Red, hmph. I admit thou hast chosen the correct color."

She raised her chin, recovering some of her pose, but with less distance and more humanity.

Still trying to motivate the disguise, and catching her personality, he gave more bait to hook her:

"See, you'll be using great stealth strategies." He turned around, crossed his arms, and with eyes closed and a roguish smile on his face, said:

"You'll look so stylish I'll need to grab a cloth to wipe my drool. Imagine those golden locks and marvelous lime-green eyes, contrasting with this crimson hoodie and black jacket? I'll have to go to the hospital, not to church!"

She stood still for a second and then burst out laughing, bringing a hand to her chest as if she had just heard the boldest of declarations.

"Umu! HAHAHA! Praetor, thou truly knowest no limits!"

She took a step closer, raising her index finger and lightly touching his chest in a theatrical gesture, but without aggression.

"Speaking of stealth strategies and confessing thou wilt be defeated by thine own admiration." She shook her head. "What a curious Master!"

She stepped back again: "Thy eloquence is worthy of a poet who lost his reason before his own muse." She raised her chin, recovering her pose, but complicit in tone.

"Very well! If my presence can send thee to the hospital merely from contemplation, then so be it. It shall be proof that even in disguise, an empress never ceases to be an empress." She put on the hoodie. "If this 'soft' fabric, as thou sayest, is the garb of heroes in this era, then I shall wear it as only a muse knows how." She pulled the leather jacket over it, adjusting it with surprising naturalness, and gave him a confident look.

Carlos was truly struck by his own mischief. He had found it fun to provoke his Servant, without realizing how much it had affected himself. However simple the clothing was, she still drew attention with her posture, her elegance, and her gaze.

Feeling a bit comforted by the interaction, he approached, looking into her eyes:

"Look how we can increase the stealth effect!" He took the hood and covered her head. "Now you're stealthier! If you want to hide, this is the best way." Then, staring at her, he said with a playful smile: "Still, your eyes will be the charm of the night!"

The gesture caught her by surprise with its naturalness. For a moment, she stood still, her golden hair partially hidden and the red of the hoodie contrasting even more with the vivid green of her eyes. The room's weak lamp cast soft shadows on her face.

She blinked once and then smiled, not something grand, but smaller and complicit in the act.

"Umu."

She brought her hand to the hood, adjusting it herself. She took two steps around the room, too quiet for someone who normally announced every movement.

"Hmph, stealthy. It doesn't sound like something they'd attribute to me," she repeated, as if trying out the feeling.

She came a little closer, close enough for him to feel her presence but without touching him. "Even hidden, I always find a way to be seen," she said in a low voice. For a second, she held his gaze. Then, she stepped away with a light spin.

"Let's go!" she said with renewed energy. "Before someone knocks on the door and accuses us of conspiring too much."

The group, now prepared, walked to the church. At the front, Shirou's Servant stood watch along with Archer. And the third Servant didn't want to do anything different. She sat on a bench, keeping the hood of the hoodie covering her head. Carlos just gave her a slight nod with a thumb and a smile, showing approval of the disguise.

Shirou comments that he found it strange the blue Saber didn't want to enter. And Rin says, from the previous conversation, she must have some idea of who the fake priest was from having participated in the war previously.

"Fake priest?" ask Carlos and Shirou.

Rin then continues as they open the church door. "He was my father's pupil and is my tutor. So, he's a well-known acquaintance of mine."

"So, he's a magus?" Shirou asks.

"Yes, a true fake priest."

Carlos falls silent, allowing himself to feel the aura of the place, which does not please him. His first impression is that it must be the memory of childhood times in Brazil when his family was persecuted. He tries to focus on what will happen.

A man in his early thirties was near the presbytery, with his back to the church entrance. He then turns and says:

"You don't accept my invitations and calls, but you show up with two strangers in the middle of the night, Rin." He stares with slight satisfaction and judgment in his gaze at the two young men.

"I assume these are two of the seven Masters, Rin?

"She simply looks, confirming positively to the priest. He continues:

"My name is Kotomine Kirei. And what are your names?"

"Emiya Shirou," said one.

"Carlos Eduardo Takeuchi Moraes," said the other.

Kirei let the silence stretch for a moment. He walked a few steps down the central aisle of the church.

"I suppose, then, that one of you is the Master of the Saber class."

Rin replied without hesitation but didn't expose herself.

"Actually, both are."

Kirei's smile did not fade. His eyes shone for a split second. "Two Sabers... that is unusual," he repeated as if testing the weight of the words.

His gaze slowly slid from Shirou to Carlos. Then he inclined his head slightly in a polite gesture.

The distant sound of the church's old wood creaking seemed to mark the time. Then, without haste, he said:

"When you decided to fight this war, was it because you desired the Holy Grail? Or because you believed someone needed to do it?"

The slight smile returned, almost gentle.

"Choose your answer well. The Holy Grail War tends to treat these two motivations very differently," he added.

The words of the strange clergyman resonated with Shirou, who couldn't contain himself and replied:

"I have no interest in this war. I don't think it's fair to involve and hurt other people."

Carlos reflected on the question with weight. He realized he was not viewed favorably. He felt treated as an invader in a strange land.

"I only know I have no selfish desires. For now, I just want to understand what happened. My family was involved, and I want to help them."

Kirei listened to Shirou in silence. He merely nodded once, as if already expecting that answer. Then, his gaze returned to Carlos. For a moment, there was no irony in his response. He walked a few steps, stopping at a respectable distance, yet still imposing pressure on the environment.

"I see. You don't speak like a magus nor like someone who came seeking a miracle. Still, regardless of desire, intention, or morals, a Servant answered your call. You become part of the system. And it does not distinguish altruism from ambition."

A contained smile appeared.

"As for your family, I regret to say their involvement was not an accident. The ritual anchors itself in locations, ley lines, and sensitive people."

He raised his gaze, fixing it on Carlos.

"If you wish to help them, Carlos Eduardo Takeuchi Moraes, then it's simple. Win this war and you can wish for whatever you want. Even for them to be saved."

The phrase echoed through the interior of the church like an inevitable sentence. Rin took a sharp step forward with an angry look at the priest.

"Don't talk as if you're offering a blessing. You're pressuring someone who just saw his entire family fall unconscious to the floor."

Rin pointed her chin slightly towards Carlos, without taking her eyes off Kirei.

"I brought him here to ask for help, and you're using his fear." She crossed her arms, expressing her contained contempt.

While Kirei remained silent, with his slight smile unchanged, Shirou still hesitated about battles where people could get hurt.

"I don't want to win any war," he said.

Kirei stared at the three and took a few seconds before responding. The smile didn't change, but his gaze became more attentive, as if trying to penetrate the souls of the three youths.

"Pressure..." the clergyman repeated, as if tasting the word. "That's a curious interpretation, Rin."

He walked a few steps, stopping so he could see all three at the same time.

"I merely describe the ritual. I am not the one who demands sacrifices. The Holy Grail does that by itself. Still, no one here was forced to cross these doors. You came because something pulled you, be it fear, responsibility, or guilt," he enumerated. "Call it what you will. The result is the same."

He took a short pause and continued.

"If that seems cruel to you, Rin, then perhaps you need to analyze if you are prepared for what the Grail demands. War does not care how you view it. It simply happens with your present, whether you want it or not."

His gaze then passed to Shirou and expressed a thinner smile.

"That is why my answer to you, Emiya Shirou, is that there is no 'leaving' this war. Fight or spend your Command Spells breaking the pact with your Servant."

"If you prefer to live as a coward," he continued without raising his tone. "Take refuge here and I will give you protection."

The young man let himself be hit by the provocation. Then he asked:

"And why would you make an effort to protect us?"

Kirei smiles slightly and replies:

"I was appointed to supervise the Holy Grail Wars." Seeing their doubtful looks, he continued. "There have been several, and this is the fifth. Each one is more brutal than the last. So much so that there was the disaster of the fire ten years ago."

Those words opened an old wound in Shirou's chest. The image of the fire, flames, and screams came back to hit him. He paused and leaned on one of the church pews, holding on to avoid vomiting.

Because of that tragedy, he had a burning desire for justice. Because of the debt he felt from the event. And now, he had the opportunity to better understand what happened.

He took a deep breath and clenched his fists.

"What I prefer is to fight to prevent innocents from getting hurt. Even if I don't know how. That's why I'll enter this war," he retorted, raising his gaze, determined.

The priest seemed animated by the response. Rin, however, let out a low sigh. She was clearly irritated with the game being set up there. Then she quickly looked at Carlos as if warning him to be careful with his words.

Carlos had observed that the priest was pitting them against each other. Only one could touch the Grail. Nothing about that comforted him. The worst of all, he thought, was that he felt he had more questions than answers. None of which he felt comfortable asking that priest.

"You can count on me. Just one final question. If each participant only summons one type of Servant, what could have happened to have two types of Saber?"

Kirei then turned his attention to Carlos. His smile widened enough to seem satisfied.

"A good question." He walked slowly until he was in front of the altar, with his hands together. "Under normal circumstances, the ritual recognizes only one class per summoning. When something like this occurs, there are only three plausible explanations."

He raised one finger. "A flaw in the ritual."

A second finger raised. "External interference."

A third finger. "Or..." his gaze returned to him, heavy. "Someone who doesn't fit the Grail's usual records." The smile returned to its serene state.

"Which one do you believe is correct, Carlos Eduardo Takeuchi Moraes?"

"Usual records of the Grail?" asked Carlos.

Kirei seemed satisfied that he had stopped exactly at the desired point.

"The Holy Grail is not just a receptacle for wishes. It's a system. It observes, records, and classifies. Heroes, defined classes, Masters, family lines, location, ritual conditions. All this composes what we simply call 'records'. You could call them the Grail's own expectations."

His gaze now seemed more interesting than accusatory.

"When someone appears outside these parameters, the system tries to correct. Sometimes it fails, other times it adapts. And, on rare occasions, it accepts the anomaly as part of the war."

Rin took a step forward, visibly irritated with the direction of the conversation.

"Don't turn this into a philosophical interrogation, Kotomine," she said. "You're insinuating too much and explaining too little."

She looked seriously at Carlos. "What he's saying is that something forced the ritual." Her gaze hardened as she faced Kirei again. "And, if there's anyone in Fuyuki who knows how to make the Grail behave like that... it's you."

Her tutor neither denied nor confirmed. He merely nodded slightly and replied:

"Let's say this war has already started differently from the previous ones and tends to end the same way."

He turned slightly, as if ending the audience. But before moving away completely, he added, almost casually:

"As for the two Saber classes, I suggest you observe why both responded. Sometimes, the Grail doesn't just choose champions. It chooses conflicts."

Carlos stared at her seriously and retorted to the priest.

"Be that as it may, I'm part of the process. Don't expect me to come back soon asking for protection or to give up. If I come back, it will be for other reasons." He kept his gaze at Kirei, facing his provocations. "I'll be available if *you* need answers, because I'll be chasing them while trying to save my family."

The priest listened to the young man's declaration, closing his eyes for a moment and appreciating it like a well-placed response.

"A clear position. And that says a lot about the role you've chosen to assume. I like that."

He opened his eyes again, staring at him with renewed attention.

"As for answers, I'm curious to see which ones you'll find first. The ones you want or the ones you'd rather avoid, Carlos Eduardo Takeuchi Moraes," he said to him finally.

Shirou, who had been observing in silence, expressed himself in his honest tone.

"If we're going to fight, then this war feels less heavy when you have someone by your side who cares about people before anything else." He looked at Carlos with a small smile, and taking a deep breath continued:

"Together, maybe it will be easier to prevent anyone from making wrong decisions."

Rin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, but there was still poorly disguised concern.

"You two really are a match," she murmured. "Idealistic, stubborn, and completely clueless."

The priest then concluded the audience with a serene tone.

"Then may you be successful in your endeavors."

He turned his gaze to Shirou, his smile becoming thinner.

"After all, Emiya Shirou, for there to be a hero of justice, someone must play the role of the villain."

He then closed the doors, and silence returned to the church. As the group left, something was preparing to reach them, with the calm of a convinced winner stepping into the ring.

Chapter 9: The True Sensation of War

The early morning air felt lighter. Shirou and the blue Saber walked ahead, their vow to fight together renewed. She maintained her impeccable posture and attention on the path, but every now and then, her gaze would land on Shirou with great softness. He, in turn, walked as one who had found a straight line amidst chaos.

Carlos followed close behind, hands in his pockets, feeling lighter after the night's outcome despite all the strife. However, he still felt confused about what to call each Saber. His partner refused to mention her name to prevent others from discovering weaknesses and advantages based on her identity. She walked the streets of Fuyuki in a delightfully absurd way, an elegance that fits so well into the "fluffy" fabric Carlos had presented.

Other points seemed important to him, and he wanted to stitch them together. The renewed vows were good for morale. He considered that improving engagement would make them lower their guard and, with that, give clues to each one's name. About his partner, some ideas about her personality were already forming in his mind. He looked at the cloak the other one wore, then moved closer to his servant, looked at her with great excitement, and said loudly, with no regard for the night's silence:

“See that yellow cloak the other one is wearing? It's a raincoat when it's not raining! See how your disguise turned out better? I told you you'd be stunning!”

The scarlet girl raised her chin, pleased as if the compliment were an inevitable tribute. Her green eyes sparkled with joy.

“Umu, evident! An empress never goes unnoticed!” She declared solemn as if announcing a victory in a public square.

Shirou blinked, looking from the yellow cloak to the red hoodie, trying to understand why that was a joke.

“Raincoat?” he repeated, confused.

The blue Saber tilted her head seriously, analyzing the situation.

“I do not understand. But if it reduces suspicion, I accept it” she said, with a tone that sounded so sincere it almost became comedy on its own.

Carlos couldn't hold back and a laugh escaped. Shirou's laugh came right after, short and awkward. The scarlet Saber, who had been half-laughing from the start, let out a loud laugh, satisfied at being recognized as the protagonist she believed herself to be.

It was then that Rin stopped.

She had been a few steps behind with her arms crossed and her face unmoving since they left the church. The sound of laughter didn't catch her off guard. She had already expected them to find some way to relieve the tension. What she didn't expect was how much it hurt. She took a deep breath, keeping her gaze fixed on the empty street, and spoke without raising her voice. Even so, everyone heard the firmness in her tone.

“This is not a night stroll. Thes not...” the sentence almost failed and she corrected her tone before anyone noticed the tremor underneath “...it's not a joke.”

The laughter died slowly, like a flame losing oxygen. Carlos, however, raised his hands, as one, surrendering without a fight.

“I know.” Carlos nodded. His gaze ran along the street, and for a moment the lightness vanished completely. “But, if we don't consider the invisible buzzkill watching us, all of us here are a group of young people walking in the early morning. The best way to hide from opponents and onlookers is to do what young people do. Noise, teasing each other, and appearing normal.”

Rin didn't reply immediately. The blue Saber remained alert, while the other was having too much fun to be bothered by reprimands. Shirou, caught in the middle, seemed torn between "that makes sense" and "please, don't fight."

Carlos continued, now more serious:

“My father, with his immense library, showed me a story once. ‘The Purloined Letter,’ by Allan Poe. Sometimes the best hiding place is the obvious one.”

Rin understood, despite hating to admit it and not agreeing. There was mundane logic to it, but not a magus's logic.

Carlos then stopped. As if the idea had ended and another, completely different one, had taken its place. He looked at Rin with sudden concentration. And then he spoke as one asking for permission:

“Wait a second.”

Rin frowned.

“What?”

Carlos took two steps to her side. Rin froze, unsure whether to keep her distance or not. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them as if to warm them in the cold, and then with a smile he said:

“Healing spell, activate!”

Before Rin could understand, he placed his hands on her shoulders, giving two firm taps, but like a massage to dissolve the tension that had built up there since the fall at the corner of Emiya's house.

Her body reacted first. A shiver ran up her neck and down her arms. She turned in the same instant, red with surprise and irritation.

“W-WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO---?!”

Carlos took a step back laughing as if the outburst was exactly the expected response.

“There. Now that fall won't hurt tomorrow.”

He gave a low laugh, satisfied as if he had just solved a mechanical problem. She, however, clenched her fists, feeling the humiliating sensation that her face was too hot.

“You...” She tried to keep her voice cold, but the indignation came out twisted.

Carlos, unaware of the magnitude of the trigger he had pulled, completed:

“Ah, I picked up this habit from Japanese animation, always shouting attack names. I've lived here for years and still don't understand why they do it.”

Rin's gaze grew sharper.

“It's not ‘anime.’” She spat as if the word were an insult to her very ancestry. “To accumulate enough mana, you need incantations or invocations. The form matters. You don't just go around ‘activating’ things.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows.

“To me it still seems like anime stuff.”

A short, tense silence appeared.

Shirou looked away uncomfortably and his partner remained quiet. The other girl, however, brought two fingers to her lips, trying to hide a laugh.

Rin took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice seemed more controlled and more dangerous.

“Which mage family are you from, anyway?”

Carlos looked at her honestly and simply said:

“I'm not a mage.”

She froze. It wasn't the expected answer, and it surprised her given the whole situation.

Kirei's words, "Takeuchi Moraes," passed through her mind like a thread. Takeuchi was a common name in modern Japan, but it had history in Fuyuki. Nothing that revealed a magical lineage. As for Moraes, a foreign surname that might be interesting to investigate.

She lowered her eyes, returning to the situation. When she spoke again, her tone had changed.

“From here on out, we part ways.”

Shirou stopped walking, surprised by the statement.

“Tohsaka...”

She kept her gaze on the ground.

“You decided to enter the war.” She said as if each word came at a cost. “So, I have to deal with you as enemies.”

The impact of the sentence was physically to the point where the air seemed colder.

Shirou took a step forward with his simple smile on his face.

“I can't see you as an enemy, Tohsaka.”

Rin didn't raise her face. A subtle glow appeared behind her.

Archer appeared without warning, keeping his gaze sharp and his posture relaxed.

“Master” he said, methodical. “At this moment, it's valid to take advantage of the situation to take down a weaker group.”

Rin raised her head, expressing a firm look.

“No.” She simply said. She took a deep breath, and then, to Shirou, spoke with a frankness that seemed forcibly pulled out.

“I owe you a debt for using a Command Seal and stopping your Saber's attack.”

Then she turned her face to Carlos. And there, for a moment, her mask faltered. There was something personal in that turn, something that wasn't just strategy.

“And you...” she began.

Carlos stood still. For the first time that night, he didn't have a joke ready.

Rin pressed her fingers against her own arm, as if holding back what was escaping.

“You don't make things easy.” The voice came out lower. “You show up as if you have nothing to lose. As if...” she stopped, irritated with her own sentence, and turned it into an attack: “...as if it were normal to touch someone and think it doesn't mean anything.”

Archer maintained his posture, but gradually became invisible again as he said:

“It's fine, master. When you assess that your debt is settled and decide you've had enough of those who act like they have nothing to lose, call me again.”

And he disappeared.

Carlos opened his mouth, but Rin gave no room for a reply.

Shirou, almost in a whisper, insisted:

“I still trust you, Tohsaka. I know you're a good person. And I'm counting on you, so we don't see each other as enemies.”

She seemed surprised by the absurd courage in saying that. Her eyes trembled for a second.

It was then that the night decided to interrupt any possibility of reconciliation. A childish voice cut through the air, too sweet for that scene, accompanied by an extremely heavy aura.

“So, the little group has stopped talking?”

Everyone turned.

At the end of the street, a girl wearing a coat and a purple Cossack hat stood still, her face bearing a wide, amused smile that matched neither the situation nor the pressure of mana emanating from her.

She tilted her head, assessing them as if they were toys.

“Seems your tongues are more muscular than your arms” she commented, laughing softly. “I thought I'd see a real fight.”

The ground shook. The shadow behind her moved like a mountain awakening, and the entire group froze.

Rin's eyes widened. The blue Saber tensed her entire body, assuming a defensive posture instantly. The scarlet one, on the other hand, perceived the challenge ahead and tried to contain the excitement rising in her chest.

“Good evening, little brother.” The girl smiled at Shirou. “It's the second time we've met like this, right?”

Shirou felt his throat dry.

The girl took a step forward, stopped, and bowed.

“Pleased to meet you, Rin. My name is Illya. Illyasviel von Einzbern.”

Illya tilted her head again, her smile widening as her eyes landed on the scarlet Saber.

“Wow...” she commented with false admiration. “How strange.”

She took another step, hands behind her back like a curious child.

“A Servant... in a hoodie?” she laughed. “I didn't know the Holy Grail War had turned into a night stroll.”

The scarlet Saber raised her chin, smiling with superiority.

“Umu! An empress doesn't need armor to prove her worth.”

Illya's ruby eyes then slid to Carlos.

“You're funny” she said, without explaining. “Normally, masters get scared when they see Berserker.”

Carlos didn't respond. He remained serious.

Carlos couldn't identify what he felt at first. His fighter's body reacted before his mind could assess distance, weight, and rhythm. He had fought with schoolmates stronger and bigger than him. Images of fights like Royce Gracie facing giants like Ken Shamrock through technique and persistence surfaced in his head.

Then came the next memory: the injury from the victory against Kimo Leopoldo. Winning didn't mean coming out unscathed. That wasn't human; how do you deal with a monster about three meters tall?

Carlos swallowed dryly.

Meanwhile, Rin stepped back, not because of the name of the other founding family of the ritual, but from analyzing the servant's strength, which could easily fight six at once with room to spare.

“What shall we do, master?” Archer asked, his voice was cold and professional.

She thought for a moment, and then it came:

“Use the expected methods of your class, Archer. There are three of us here, we can mount some defense."

He then moved away and vanished, and she spoke to the rest of the group.

“Emiya, Carlos, now it's fight or run. You decide.”

Neither of them hesitated.

“My Berserker is getting bored.” Said the girl, continuing coldly “Finish them.” She moved away and positioned herself in a spot where she could see the fight better. She analyzed the strangeness of having two servants of the same class.

He made a huge leap towards the group, raising his weapon, a mix between a club and a sword. Before hitting everyone, the red servant pushed the two boys away, since Rin had distanced herself, and the blue one blocked the blow.

Carlos and Shirou quickly found themselves outside the battlefield.

“Stay out.” The scarlet girl's order came out dry, with no room for reply. “You'll just get in the way.” She smiled from the corner of her mouth “And I hate interruptions.”

In an instant, she was back in combat. The blue Saber took the next blow head-on; the giant's blade descended and the shock made the air explode around them. The two Sabers moved in imperfect synchrony. An invisible weapon blocking and a red one advancing from the flank. Still, it was insufficient to contain that brute force.

Far away, in the city center, Archer appeared at a high point, angles and distance assessed. His arrows hit dead center. Even so, that thing didn't feel a scratch. Its roar made the ground shake, and spreading its arms, it advanced again, ignoring wounds that should have made it fall.

After the red Saber's farewell, the boys got up. Shirou remained motionless for a while. His clenched fists trembled, not from fear, but from frustration. "I'm here and yet I can't do anything." The shock of the blows in the distance seemed to mock the promise he made to himself to be a hero.

Ahead, the blue Saber narrowly dodged an impact Berserker delivered, opening a crater where she had been a moment before. The red one advanced without hesitation, her blade singing in a red arc that tore his flesh, only to see it close in seconds.

“He ignores superficial damage. The skin seems like absurd armor...” Archer murmured.

The blue Saber retreated a few steps and calculated the terrain around her. Ancient tombstones, stone walls, and narrow paths leading to the nearby cemetery.

“If we continue here, we'll be crushed” she said firmly. “I'll lead him to more favorable terrain.”

The red Saber laughed, spinning her sword over her shoulder.

“Umu! Finally, something interesting.”

Berserker roared, accepting the provocation, and charged after them.

Shirou gritted his teeth, looking at Carlos.

Carlos's gaze was serious and extremely attentive to what his human perception could capture of the servants' movements. The term "Heroic Spirit" made more sense to him. He was still calculating how to face that monster.

For a moment, he watched Rin moving away. He directly understood she was going after an easier target: defeating the strange girl.

"Let her. Rin knows more than we do here about defeating a magus. As for Shirou, he doesn't know what to do. But he's safe. Better to stay there." He thought about his colleague and his friend.

He turned to the fight and saw that girl in blue, heading into the cemetery. There, they dodged blows, raising enormous dust from shattered stones. Then he realized the genius of using less space and visibility to try and find openings.

The sound of swords hitting the stone tombstones resonated like drumbeats to his ears. Then he remembered: "Stone. Who reigns from the quarry?" The gleam in his eyes became a burning flame. He ran off towards the debris of the fight without saying a word. He had a ritual to perform.

“Hey, wait!” Shirou said, more to himself than to the other. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and made a crooked but firm decision. “If you're going to do something, I'm not going to stand still.” Then he ran towards the fight.

In the distance, in the cemetery, the blue Saber moved with surgical precision, using the tombs as cover and obstacles, forcing the giant to destroy the very terrain with each blow. The red Saber struck the monster and narrowly dodged a club that split a mausoleum in half.

The blue Saber then said to the giant:

“I recognize your strength and skill, even maddened. I would like to honor you for it, but unfortunately, I won't have time.” She gathered all her strength, and with a blow of immense power, struck Berserker's body, splitting it in two.

The mist dissipated. And the scene shocked those presents. The monster's body regenerated, returning to its state as if it had caused no damage.

Illya was amused in the background, saying to the group after a laugh:

“You won't achieve anything against the strongest hero in all Greek history! You are facing none other than Hercules!”

As they listened astonished to this declaration, Carlos spoke to himself.

“Then it will be with the power of your father that you will be defeated!”

He went to the nearby woods and tore a branch from a tree. Following the debris from the fight, he found a stone and grabbed two pieces of iron from the cemetery's broken fence.

Amidst the noise of the fight, he hid, and sat there, along with Shirou who had run after him.

“What are you going to do?!” he asked, panting, even unsure if he'd get an answer since Carlos was focused on his ritual.

Carlos improvised an axe. And then he recited:

“Xangô, come bring justice!”

And then the axe shone.

He turned to Shirou and asked:

“Do you know how to do anything?”

Emiya, thoughtful, held the axe and closed his eyes.

“Trace On!”

The weapon became more solid. Carlos sat on the ground again and continued some prayers.

Meanwhile, Rin had prepared a Gandr spell against Illya. The girl recognized her opponent's effort but showed herself stronger in terms of mana. After a few seconds of fighting, Rin was defenseless. She was saved by Archer, who attacked Illya, and thus Rin managed to escape.

While fleeing, she ran into Shirou and Carlos, surprised to find them nearby.

“Tohsaka!” Shirou exclaimed.

“Don't give me that 'Tohsaka'!” She yelled at him, grabbing his arm and pressing him against a nearby tree.

“Hey!” He complained about the grip. “We need to do something!”

“You don't need to!” She continued her scolding. “If anything happens to you, you'll be a problem for me!”

Shirou stopped, thoughtful. But Carlos, who was there with the reinforced axe, finished his prayer, and ran towards the fight. Paying no heed to her argument.

“Wait!” She shouted in vain.

The fight against Hercules continued fiercely and endlessly. The boy ran to meet them. The red Saber noticed the movement first, with her colleague showing surprise immediately after. Her eyes widened seeing Carlos emerging from the debris with the improvised axe still sparking.

“Tch!” she clicked her tongue, spinning her body to intercept Berserker. “I told you to stay out, Praetor!”

On the other side, Illya clapped excitedly, her eyes shining like a child before a new toy.

“Ah, look at that, Berserker!” she laughed. “The curious human decided to play too!”

The giant slowly turned its head towards Carlos.

He raised the axe with all his might. The weapon descended and the sky answered. The clouds closed in an impossible instant; thunder tore the air and lightning fell with the blow. The improvised blade met Berserker's body at the same moment the white light swallowed him whole. The impact made the ground explode. For a second there was nothing but light and sound.

When the dust settled, the monster's body was charred and broken, raising the smell of stone and burnt flesh in the air.

The red Saber stood still for half a second, then laughed loudly, incredulously.

“Ahahaha! Now that was a blow worthy of an epic!”

The blue one's eyes widened, her sword still rose.

“He... destroyed him completely.”

On the other hand, Illya brought hands to her face. She wasn't scared but felt pure excitement.

“Wow!” she whispered with shining eyes. “Berserker died again!”

Then the ashes began to move. In no time, Hercules was intact again.

“GET OUT OF THERE!” The red Saber screamed, her voice tearing through the chaos as she rushed to intercept.

Carlos didn't hear, blinded by his battle fervor.

The axe descended again and lightning fell with the blow, and before the monster could react, Carlos advanced, driving his body against the regenerated colossus and gripping its neck with everything he had.

“Let's see you regenerate without a head!” He snarled, teeth clenched. “No strength can defeat technique!”

Berserker roared furiously. The skin under Carlos's fingers hardened like living stone and its muscles contracted with impossible strength. The blue Saber sensed the danger and changed her stance in an instant.

“Move away!” she ordered, advancing.

Illya laughed loudly, enchanted, clapping.

“Aaaaah! Yes! Hold on tighter, human!”

“CARLOS!” Shirou shouted, his eyes trembling with desperation.

Rin kept her eyes wide open seeing the scene.

“That idiot...!” she gritted her teeth, shock giving way to fury. “Doesn't he understand what he's facing?!”

She instinctively brought her jewels to her hand to cast some spell but froze, realizing the distance and risk. “Shirou, don't advance!”

Berserker lifted Carlos and threw his body to the ground as if it were nothing. The red Saber was already charging to prevent the impending impact.

And it was an absolute attack.

The scarlet girl appeared in a flash, pushing Carlos away with brutal force. And the blow took her entire body. She dissipated into brilliance like a flame in the wind. There was no scream. Just the void where she had been.

In shock, Carlos was paralyzed by the scene. His friend couldn't contain himself:

“NO---!” Shirou felt his voice tear his throat and his legs fail for an instant. Rin froze, eyes wide, her mind refusing to accept what had just happened.

In shock, the blue Saber barely managed to raise her sword in time to dodge the next blow. The club grazed her and yet it was enough to throw her far. She rolled among broken tombstones and got up with great difficulty. Her blood flowed freely from her side and arm.

Illya clapped, delighted. And with a voice both sweet and monstrous, she said:

“Rip her head off, Berserker!” she laughed. “You can violate her while she regenerates, if you want!”

Shirou didn't think and ran to save her.

“STOP!” He shouted, throwing himself between the monster and the wounded Saber.

The blow meant for her struck him full force.

Shirou was sent flying through the air like a doll. The dry sound of impact echoed among the tombstones.

“SHIROU!” Rin finally screamed, moving.

The silence that followed lasted less than a second.

The blue Saber raised her bloody hand, the gesture firm despite her body on the verge of collapse.

“Don't... come...” she said to Rin, feeling the air bend in the distance. It was Archer's mana.

High on a helipad, Archer had already finished his Noble Phantasm. The legendary weapon, Caladbolg, twisted, compressed into arrow form with mana spiraling around it.

The blue Saber didn't hesitate. With what little she had left, she pulled Shirou and Carlos away in a desperate leap.

Then came the shot.

The arrow fell like a comet. The explosion swallowed Berserker in violent flames. The shock made earth and stones fly and the sky roar once more. When the dust began to settle, Illya was motionless. Her eyes wide, the childish smile gone for a rare second. Not because of her servant, but because of Emiya's attitude.

“...Little brother...” she murmured, almost surprised.

She took a deep breath and then smiled again.

“Hehe” she laughed, taking a step back. “Enough for today.”

Illya looked at Rin, tilting her head with renewed interest.

“Your archer is amazing.” she said with excessive sincerity. Then her eyes slid towards Carlos. “And your curious companion, even without a Servant, is still fun.”

She waved lightly, as one saying goodbye after a game.

“We'll play again another time.”

Their presence faded away.

The field fell silent, broken only by the heavy breathing of the survivors. The silence left behind was disturbing. Her presence had vanished, but the sensation of having to face Berserker again was agonizing.

Carlos closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regulate his breathing. The echo of the girl's words still resonated in his mind: "Curious companion."

He opened his eyes. For the first time since the war began, he had the unsettling certainty that he wasn't just fighting to survive. And there was also the bitter weight of absence. Among broken tombstones and burnt earth, only marks of what had been lost remained.

Carlos tried to move, but his body didn't respond immediately. The improvised axe slipped from his hand and fell apart into wreckage.

Beside him, Shirou, bleeding, breathed with difficulty and was unconscious. The blue Saber remained standing through pure force of will. Rin and the archer, albeit reluctantly, were the only ones still in a condition to help.

At some point in that silence far too heavy, Carlos understood that this war was worse than Gracie vs. Kimo Leopoldo. It had already exacted a price too high to be called a victory.

Notes:

Some of the characters found in this story and/or universe do not belong to me, but are the intellectual property of their respective authors. Any original characters in this story are my intellectual property. Non-profit story created by fans and for fans without compromising the original work.
I'd like to make it clear that this fanfiction is an unofficial work, created out of love for the original story and without any intention of profit or copyright infringement. All original characters, settings, and concepts from the Fate/stay night series and the Fate franchise are the property of their respective creators, including Type-Moon, Ufotable (which is responsible for the animated adaptation), Aniplex, and other licensors. I do not claim any rights to the canonical work; this is an original fan story that utilizes an existing universe.