Fate/Skyfather

In the small town of Trifas, Romania, a massive castle could be found.

The castle served as the headquarters of a mage clan, the Yggdmillennia, and had been their base since the Middle Ages.

Recently, the clan had declared independence from the Mage's Association, establishing their own independent magical organization.

In the throne room, seven people stood together, five of them gathered in front of a magical circle. The circle was a complex mix of gold and silver, kept in a liquid state through a technique that maintained its temperature. This intricate and delicate circle was designed to summon multiple Servants simultaneously.

"Place the catalysts you have gathered onto the altar," ordered Darnic, the leader of the clan, moving to a spot near the throne.

The Masters obeyed.

The first was Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia, a rotund man specializing in alchemy. His catalyst was kept on a soft pillow.

The second was Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia, a young girl in a wheelchair, specializing in spiritual invocation and human engineering. Her catalyst was an ancient arrow, its tip darkened with dried blood.

The third was Selenik Icecol Yggdmillennia, a mage specializing in dark arts. Her catalyst was a glass vial, with faint stains of a liquid still visible inside.

The fourth was Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia, Fiore's younger brother, specializing in summoning. His catalyst was an old piece of paper with a figure of a human drawn on it, labeled "The Perfect Human" in the bottom corner.

The fifth had already completed his summoning. Roche Flyn Yggdmillennia, the Master of Caster, was the youngest among them at only thirteen years old. He stood a little away from the circle, watching with interest.

"It's rare to see you leave your workshop, Roche," Darnic noted.

Roche shrugged when Darnic addressed him.

"Well, this is the summoning of Heroic Spirits. Anyone would be lucky to witness this even once in their lifetime. Even I couldn't stay in my workshop if I had the chance to see it twice."

Caster had been summoned by Roche about two months earlier, around the same time as Lancer. Together, they had spent their time creating the necessary constructs for the Great Holy Grail War in the castle's workshop.

"Where is Caster?"

"Oh, Master will arrive soon. He's busy refining his Noble Phantasm's design."

"Then I must apologize later. But in the meantime let us observe this mysterious ceremony once more."

Not long after, Caster materialized beside Roche. He wore a blue cloak, a full-body suit, and a mask with no eyes, mouth, or distinguishable features. Roche greeted his Servant with excitement, and Caster only nodded silently.

"My lord, we are about to begin the summoning," Darnic announced, bowing his head toward the empty throne.

"Very well…"

Particles of light began to converge on the throne, forming into a human shape. The man wore majestic black clothing, as dark as the shadows of night. In contrast, his face was deathly pale, framed by long, silky white hair.

The air in the throne room grew heavy as the man rose. An oppressive pressure filled the space, making everyone tremble. This wasn't because of any barbaric or violent action on his part. It was simply that, under his cold gaze, one could feel their insignificance and helplessness.

He was the strongest trump card prepared by the Yggdmillennia leader—the Black Lancer, Vlad III.

The greatest hero of Transylvania, known as the "Impaler Prince" to the Turks and as another name throughout the world: the vampire Count Dracula.

Of course, the man before them was no true vampire. He was a devoted and heroic ruler who had risen to the throne.

"Now, summon the Heroic Spirits who will serve under my command!" he declared.

"As you wish."

With a respectful bow, Darnic addressed the four Masters.

"Let us begin, proud magi of Yggdmillennia. By completing this ritual, we will take our irrevocable first step on the path of war. Do you possess this resolve?"

The four Masters remained silent, their conviction clear.

"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let black be the color I pay tribute to. Let a wall rise against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates be closed. Let the three-forked road to the crown reach the Kingdom's rotation."

They hadn't rehearsed this beforehand, of course, but all of them recited the incantation in harmony, not a single word out of place. As the first verse was completed, the glow of the magic circle intensified.

"Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve me, and my destiny shall be with your sword. Surrender to the call of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you are willing to obey this will and this truth."

The incantation sent magical energy coursing through their Magic Circuits, summoning Heroic Spirits from the Throne of Heroes and beyond.

"An oath shall be sworn here. I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven; I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell."

Three of the Masters stopped at this precise moment. Only Caules continued with another verse.

"Yet thou shalt serve with thine eyes clouded by chaos. Thou, caged in madness, I shall wield your chains."

And now, the final verse.

"From the seventh Heaven, attended by three great words of power. Come forth, from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!"

The moment these words were spoken, a furious storm caused the Homunculi to cower in panic, and Roche shielded his face with his hands. Lancer, Darnic, and Caster let it wash over them as if it were a refreshing breeze.

And finally, they manifested.

The storm became futile, and the light extinguished. There were three figures standing within the circle.

One of them was a small girl in a white dress, holding a massive mace in her hand, her eyes void of emotion.

Another was an androgynous boy, extravagantly dressed.

The last was a man whose body was clad in radiant armor. A large sword was strapped to his back, and his silver hair flowed gently in the wind.

"Ahh…"

There was a sound of admiration from someone in the hall. Darnic's eyes were filled with confusion—there were only three instead of four. Before he could utter a rash remark—

A lightning bolt crashed, destroying the ceiling of the hall. The shockwave forced all the Masters to step back amidst a storm far more terrifying than the previous one. Even Darnic shielded his face with his white cloak.

In that instant, lightning tore through the sky, filling the world with a deafening roar. It wasn't just a sound; it was a primordial warning, something so ancient and incomprehensible that no human mind could decipher it. Only two Servants of the Red Faction understood the hidden message within the depths of the thunder.

When the lightning faded and extinguished, the figure of a boy appeared. His chest was bare, adorned only with a vibrant green skirt reaching his thighs, fastened by a golden belt, sandals, and a long green cape.

In his right hand, he held a living bolt of lightning, his eyes glowing with electricity.

"In accordance with the summoning, we present ourselves as the Black Servants. Our destinies shall align with the Yggdmillennia, and our swords shall be yours." The Servants spoke in unison.

"Ah, should we introduce ourselves first? We should, shouldn't we? I'll start! Servant Rider, my name is Astolfo. What's yours?"

Before anyone could respond, the Rider-class Servant Astolfo set a completely different tone.

The Servant beside him, the boy in green, seemed unsurprised by the situation and replied calmly.

"I am the Servant Archer. You may call me Tempest."

"That's not your true name, is it? But that's okay! Our time may be short, but let's do our best!" Rider said, extending his hand.

Archer accepted it with a composed expression.

"Do not use your true names, Rider. Address each other by your classes," Darnic instructed coldly.

"Ah, right." Rider nodded and then turned to the Servant in the white dress.

"And you?"

"..."

The Servant remained silent. She shook her head side to side, signaling her refusal.

"Oh, sorry, it's your right not to speak. Hmm… where's her Master?" Rider scanned the Masters and stopped at Caules when he reacted to his gaze.

"Hey, Master over there, what's her name?"

"Uh, well, she's… Frankenstein," Caules murmured her true name.

"Got it. Well, nice to meet you, Fran—I mean, Berserker."

Frankenstein growled irritably at the revelation of her name.

"So, what's your name?" Rider's eyes turned to the last Servant, Saber.

"Stop, Saber. Don't speak," Gordes intervened before Saber could respond.

"I won't reveal my Servant's true name to any of you except Darnic." Gordes proclaimed.

"Didn't we agree beforehand that we would reveal all our Servants' true names? It's quite unfair for you to exclude yourself, isn't it?" Selenik asked coldly.

"At that time, I didn't possess this catalyst. Besides, Fiore's Servant hasn't revealed his true name either."

"I can't see his true name…" Fiore said quietly.

"What?"

"Archer is concealing his name. Not even using the Master's vision worked."

Darnic glanced at Vlad, who nodded with a smile. Vlad, being Darnic's Servant, obviously knew who Saber was. Only Archer remained obscure to his sight.

"Very well. We'll make an exception in this case. And we shall respect Archer's decision to conceal his true name."

Gordes gave a broad, satisfied smile at Darnic's words.

"My sincerest thanks, Milord. Now, if you'll excuse me."

With his head held high, Gordes left the chamber with Saber at his back. Selenik murmured in displeasure as she watched them leave.

"Well, such arrogance for summoning Saber…"

"It's just the kind of creature he is," Darnic said with a malicious smile.

Gordes was the successor of the Musik family, which once boasted alchemical skills rivaling the Einzbern. But when the Musik family was absorbed by the Yggdmillennia, their thaumaturgical lineage was already in decline.

"I am your Master. Please call me Fiore. It's a pleasure to meet you." Fiore extended her arm, and Archer respectfully took her hand between his.

"The pleasure is mine. For now, you may call me Tempest. My name is not something you need to know at the moment. There's no problem with that, is there?"

Fiore remained silent, thoughtful, as she looked into Archer's face.

"Any issue?"

"Oh, no. It's just that I was expecting Chiron with the catalyst…"

"Oh, my lady, sometimes you must look beyond the obvious, or you forget what lies in the blood of that arrow," said Archer, gazing at the catalyst.

"Oh..."

"But I assure you, my skills as an Archer are nothing short of adequate."

"Yes... I am expecting great things from you, Archer."

Fiore lowered her head, seemingly embarrassed, and left the chamber with Archer.