So, the main question is, why do a Metal Gear Crossover with Fate? Honestly, this idea came as a whim as I tried to get an S rank on the Monsoon fight while starting Fate Zero during my breaks. Of course, I had to wonder, how would a character as overpowered as Raiden fair within the Fate universe?

This work of fiction is essentially that; tackling a man of the future handling foes from the past, legendary and not. Now I want to get a few things out of the way beforehand; I will not limit Raiden whatsoever; this work aims to have him act as accurately as possible and involve his strengths and weaknesses. So, let's get some basics out of the way.

While Raiden has no concept of magic, he does handle the supernatural constantly; hell, enemies like Monsoon prove he can adapt and thrive. Of course, I will acclimate some of his abilities to fit the Fate narrative; I can't avoid giving Raiden his own Noble Phantasm (Oh, I plan to have a ton of fun with this).

I will list some of his parameters below, and I believe they're self-explanatory; Raiden is a literal monster in terms of strength, speed, resilience, etc. For reference, he stopped Outer Haven with one arm; keep in mind the thing literally weighed 100,000 tons, and he did it while exhausted.

Speed, no one can stand up to our favorite cyborg; I'll post a link below to a deviant art post where someone did the math on this; at the top of his ability, Raiden's peak speed is 1,243,406.58 m/s, literally over 27k mph. When handling magic, Raiden will have issues, the guy lacks any experience with the concept, but Lord help anyone in an outright fight with him.

Edit: Okay, I did go back and fix these just a bit so I can appease the more Fate oriented viewers, cheers.

Parameters:

Strength: A

Endurance: B++

Agility: A

Mana: F

Luck: B

NP: A

Alignment: Neutral Good

Class Skills: N/A

Personal Skills:

Zandatsu- A

A unique technique designed and only applicable to Raiden, created after a near-death encounter with his future rival, Jetstream Sam. Following their battle, Jack underwent a full cyborg augmentation, transforming his remaining flesh into a complete automaton, only leaving his brain and various organic pieces scattered across his body.

While powerful, the warrior's new body utilizes a molten carbonate fuel cell, requiring constant energy input to remain operational. The technique uses Raiden's enhanced senses along with his honed skills with bladed weapons to siphon energy from his foes to revitalize himself, literally cutting it out of their bodies. The parasitic ability has been modified to work with prana reserves on his fallen enemies, allowing him to function long beyond other Servants.

Independent Action- B

Due to his circumstances as a cyborg, Raiden's fuel cells and experience rationing his power during long deployments under Maverick grant him a longer duration without an active prana supply. Through the use of Zandatsu, however, this servant can extend his period of activity so long as he can actively find new targets.

Lightning Rod- B

Due to his exceptional nature as one of the world's first cyborgs, Raiden received Patriot-made components that scientists still have yet to replicate, granting powers unique only to him.

One such ability allows him to manipulate and control electricity, utilizing it to enhance himself and any weapon he wields. Raiden has also shown the capacity to hurl electricity at enemies, although with some difficulty at a distance.

Noble Phantasm:

HF Murasama: Anti-Fortress/Anti-Unit A++

Inherited from a fallen foe, Jetstream Sam, the blade has passed from generation to generation in the Rodrigues family for decades, if not longer. With the advent of High-Frequency technology, its superior craftsmanship gave the sword new life after modification.

This weapon is neither a tool of justice nor vengeance. So long as the wielder has the will to act and a purpose, Murasama can slice through anything, physical or magical, even ideas. However, as an imperfect copy of a Muramasa sword, the user must have absolute beliefs; those who remain uncertain can never use this blade to its full potential.

Linked Ability- Defiance: A lifetime of manipulation and subordination has left deep mental scars on this heroic spirit. So long as he wields Murasama, Raiden is highly resistant to any external influence, either physical or mental.

This ability bleeds through into his links between any Master and himself, varying from person to person based on their ideals. A general theme is a refusal to recognize authority; Jack will never acknowledge anyone as his Master, regardless of circumstance. It remains unknown how command seals would work under such parameters. (This isn't so much a separate phantasm, more an effect the blade has on its wielder.)

...

The Ripper- A

Raiden's traumatic upbringing in the jungles of Liberia left permanent scars on his psyche, instilling an untold propensity for violence and utter madness at a young age. An unknown event caused his personality to splinter into two halves, one good, the other chaos incarnate. Jack functions as a completely separate entity, incapable of sympathy, taking extreme pleasure in causing as much human suffering as possible. Referred to as Ripper Mode, when in use, Raiden sacrifices his empathy and human understanding for raw strength and animal-like viciousness; this form earned him the moniker, Jack the Ripper, even before becoming a cyborg.

This phantasm acts through varying means, affecting this servant's madness level depending on circumstance. When entered willingly, his level can range from an A- to an A+. However, in the case of high emotional instability, Jack can forcibly take control; in this state, referred to as Eternal Ripper Mode, this servant will reach a madness level of EX and will not stop his rampage until either he or his target is dead. When in this enraged state, pain drives this servant to greater heights and further into his own insanity; very few have survived such an encounter.

Edit for clarification: This list will update as I see fit, nothing too extreme, but I won't reveal my hand immediately.

Link to an in-depth explanation of Raiden's stats; if anyone wants to check my work, feel free:

kirito352/art/How-powerful-is-Raiden-Metal-Gear-Solid-Rising-864678289

I will make minor changes to Raiden for interactions within the Fate universe; Rosemary is out of the picture; I'll explain it later down the line. So, I'm not opposed to having him get with someone, but I stress that will take time.

I'm starting in Fate Zero and working through the content I enjoyed in the series; I'll likely skip over to Grand Order after this because I don't want to just follow existing plotlines exclusively. I want Raiden to have unique adventures with interesting people; it's hard to do that in concrete stories like Fate Stay/Night and Bladeworks.

Lastly, I'm going to approach this as though my readers have seen Fate Zero; there isn't a need for me to give a play-by-play about what everyone is doing. This work goes from Raiden's perspective and his input on the world.

Fanfics that jump between characters to follow the continuity of whatever universe they're in make things confusing and unnecessarily long; sometimes, less is more. Don't get me wrong, though; I might include some outside perspective if the scene involves Raiden directly or indirectly, but really? Who wants to see Artoria talk about shit you've seen in the show when it's a metal gear crossover? Not me because I don't care! I want Raiden to kick ass and say fantastic one-liners!

General Notes/Explanations: Metal Gear is a highly philosophical story, examining nuances and concepts that I almost lack the pages to cover effectively. My work aims to explore and develop Raiden's character based on how MGS Rising ended. For instance, you might see Raiden doing things you'd equate to Jack; a massive message in Rising was self-acceptance.

I want to show evidence that Raiden is healing for better or worse, his split personalities slowly becoming one again. So, Raiden will retain his morals while also inheriting some of Jack's sadism and brutality, don't worry, though; Jack isn't completely gone, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. (I will note I'll use the names interchangeably because I would die if I had to use the word Raiden every single sentence).

Now, I do want to reaffirm; that I'm entering uncharted waters by making Raiden the main character in a fanfiction I fully intend to finish. So, personality-wise, I will say that Jack will not act like an edge lord at all times, far from it. I would argue that Raiden will seem far more human; I want to explore that aspect of him, so expect some conversations where he acts normal.

The guy loves his family, and I want to show that side of him more, so I will. Don't get me wrong, though; I fully plan to have Jack let her rip when he's in a fight; I can't wait for the actual boss fights; just bear with the fluff and long conversations until then.

Also, I will make changes when necessary in Zero. For example, I never really liked Kariya's moments of madness, I am well aware the crest worms have an impact like that, but truthfully I don't care and don't want an edgelord story with Raiden being a murder hobo forced to kill. So, in my canon, Kariya retained his sanity, and even if he does start to slip, he'll have the man who juggles insanity for breakfast to help him out.

That's one of the few things, though; like seriously, some of the logic I saw made no sense, like Kiritsugu cheating on his wife while knowing she's going to die, that outright made me mad; the "Well, he needs to prepare for when she's gone" explanation seemed so contrived to me; like beyond selfish. I'll address the issues I found with the characters in my own way; some of it may seem biased, but it's my fanfic, so I don't care!

Regarding his appearance, for the most part, imagine the Raiden full-piece suit model in Rising, although he retains the visor from his enhanced body (I fucking love that thing).

With that out of the way, let's get into this; I hope you enjoy this project, and hopefully, it goes somewhere fruitful. Feel free to tear me apart in the comments, or don't; I probably won't read it anyways.

Metal Gear is owned by Konami Digital Entertainment and the Fate series is the intellectual property of Type-Moon and its associated companies. I own nothing.

This is a work of fanfiction, but I do recommend you watch Fate and, of course, play every game in the Metal Gear franchise.

"All that talk about justice… and here I am, just another killer…" -Raiden

A lone figure sat in the hollow chamber beneath an elegant estate, muttering what could only seem obscenities to the untrained observer. "No, no, no... it has to be done-" wincing in agony as protuberances beneath his flesh swam about his veins.

Chalk clacked on the hard stone floor as the frail man held his limp right arm, waiting for his most recent attack of many that day to subside. The crest worms had writhed their way across his body; any sudden spike in activity or basic emotion could send them into a feeding frenzy, with him as the main course.

Soon, the pulses began to wane, and his muffled cries of despair turned to grunts of discomfort. As the pain subsided, his eyes opened once more, the right, a dull black, evident of a man who had seen too much, while the left had gone blind months prior. If the war didn't kill him, his father's pets certainly would; despite lacking sufficient training in magecraft, Kariya Matou knew that much.

The hooded man shook his head, 'No, none of that, you're doing this for her,' as he ran a hand through his bleach-white hair. Despite his aged features, he was still a young man, at least in heart; but it didn't matter. A man could be in the prime of his life, like him at just thirty-two; the end was the same with these worms.

Some short-term magical prowess in exchange for his life, a price many wouldn't pay, but the uncle had few choices; his niece or his life; he hardly needed to think about it. With an all too tired sigh, the young man grabbed the chalk with his good hand and went back to writing as the sounds of wooden sandals clacking on stone grew closer. This ritual had to be perfect; otherwise, Sakura would suffer another night in the pit; his father had no concept of mercy.

The reverberations grew ever closer, yet the man remained true to his work; intricate symbols lined the entire expanse, from wall to floor. An aged chuckle echoed across the chamber, "My my, still at work, are you?" A sweat broke out across his pale face; no matter how often they spoke, his father etched a stench of evil unlike anything he'd ever seen.

Zouken Matou expected perfection in his household; his ambitions knew no limit; even if the man had to sacrifice his only son, immortality came at a price, and he had little time nor patience left. Pausing his work, the son turned, his functioning eye glancing at his father, examining the strange object in those wrinkled hands. A sword?

An hour had passed; mere minutes remained until midnight, until the start of a new war for the Grail he had no interest in, but he'd fight as many wars as needed if it meant saving his niece. As Kariya examined his craft, the beleaguered man knew the procedure to come; the summoning.

A servant with him as a Master, would they obey, would they call him a coward? The young man couldn't answer these questions, but his chain of thought soon fell apart as his father addressed him, breaking the all too eerie silence of the basement. "You've memorized the summoning spell, right?" As an ominous green glow illuminated the room, both parties glanced down at the "gift" the father had brought.

Kariya grimaced, knowing the pain to come; the worms served him so long as he kept them fed, mana for his flesh, never pleasant, always agonizing. "Yes, father, I'm ready to proceed." The long-lived man stroked a nonexistent beard, "wait; you'll need to add a few lines to your incantation; your rank as a mage is still lower than what we need."

The elderly man hefted up the mysterious object towards his son, "But, with this, alongside these few simple lines, it will affect your Servant's abilities. Kariya, I want you to add the Berserk affinity to your summon." Still retaining his grimace, the once black-haired youth swallowed back his angst, "But, father, who exactly am I summoning?" A dark chuckle echoed across the stone walls, his father's grin growing sinister, "A candidate none know of, why look backward for aid when we can go forward? Now, proceed; you're almost out of time."

The half-blind man gently picked up the concealed blade from his father, observing its foreign properties, 'Forward? He must be kidding... a spirit from the future? How?!' The sword seemed almost beyond comprehension; seeing its make, even a failure like him could tell, the mysterious scabbard vibrated with energy, a low hum in the palm of his hand.

The mysterious sword rested in his hands until he gently set it within the center of his ritual circle. Despite having more questions than answers, he had a role to complete, a servant to summon. As he readied himself, Kariya could only hope for the best, an obedient slave that could save his niece; the only thing that mattered was her, not him; and so before beginning, he thought a silent prayer to whatever God listened to let this happen.

Exhaling his doubts, fears, and concerns, the young man broke the brief silence. "Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill! Repeat every five times. Simply shatter once filled. I announce. Your self is under me; my fate is in your sword.

In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead; I am the one who lays out 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 keeper of the balance! Yet, thou serves with thine eyes clouded in chaos.

Thou, bound in the cage of madness. I am he who commands those chains!" As the final words fluttered out of his mouth, his skin crawling in agony, the room flooded in light. Both men recovered their vision, trying to peer through the haze of dust, grime, and sparks of electricity that were blanketing the room.

...

A well-dressed figure slowly crossed the desolate alleyways of Chicago; the once industrial heart of America turned to decay with the onset of yet another recession. A gust of polluted air frayed his bleach-blonde locks, defying gravity with each sway as he continued his pace, his metallic, shoe-like appendages clacking along the cracked concrete road.

He hoped the metropolis would recover someday, somehow; a thought came to mind...'What about all the good things war has done for us? Why don't we ever hear speeches about that? Jobs, technology, a common purpose… All we're sayin' is… GIVE WAR A CHANCE!' the ends never justified the means. The cyborg clicked his tongue in annoyance; that smug-bald face brought untold feelings of rage; even with the bastard dead, Sundowner brought out the worst in him.

The man paused, standing still as the city grew all too quiet, four new pings appearing on his radar; good, he was getting bored. As he prepared for the upcoming battle, a sound interrupted his thoughts, BZZZT...BZZZT, a call? The ninja started his stroll once more; a familiar icon popped into his hud as he tapped the notification, synthetic skin meeting projected light.

As the call connected, a mustached face loaded in, "Raiden! Good to see you, my friend." The cyborg grinned; Boris, one of the few people the man could call a companion, "Feeling's mutual, so, how's business?". His pace quicked as he spotted four figures leaping across the rooftops, his eyes snapping back towards a distinctly Russian accent. "Oh good, good. Herr Doktor's research and staffing service certainly help."

His metallic grip tightened around the unseen suitcase in his right hand, the blips on his radar growing ever closer. Glancing from side to side, the cyborg continued onwards, hoping for an open space in the claustrophobic environment.

Raiden cleared his throat; years of smoking makes for a raspy voice, even though he'd quit years ago, "I hear World Marshal's looking for a buyer." His friend dryly chuckled in an all too knowing manner, "Well, you cost them a lot of money, da? Not to mention killing their funding. Literally!"

The cyborg marched onwards; Armstrong never brought pleasant thoughts to mind; he'd credit the maniac, for one thing, the senator reminded him of who he truly was; the samurai would remember him for that. 'I have a dream. That one day, every person in this nation will control their own destiny. A land of the truly free, dammit!' He sneered; freedom for who?

Without regarding his ruminations, Boris continued, "Their brain-taking program is finished, but the larger company is not, I'm afraid. Eh, someone will buy them; PMCs are in demand once again." The cyborg grimaced, another thing the senator got right, 'Status quo will continue, at least for a little while.' He sighed; the battle never ended, "Yeah... Fighting for reasons they don't understand, causes they don't believe in...

The Russian tilted his head in confusion, "Beg pardon?"

Turning a corner, Raiden straightened out his suit jacket; his cufflinks never seemed to fit right; he was a soldier, not a playboy, despite what others might claim. As he shook the thought from his mind, the four blips had landed in various side entrances around him, finally.

Glancing back at his HUD, the warrior prepared for the battle to come, "No, nothing." Two figures blocked the path ahead, two behind; a vicious smirk grew across his synthetic facade. Boris leaned back in his swivel chair with a sigh, knowing the answer without asking, but he figured he should try to get his best employee back once more, "So, your mind is made? You will not come back?". As the standard-grade cyborgs drew their swords, Raiden gave his friend one final look, "Sorry Boris..." The Slav waved a hand, "Ah, I understand. But then...what will you do?"

Raiden's grin grew in excitement; he couldn't deny his love for the fight, it became part of him, and he embraced the hatred all the same. The warrior raised his right arm as his cloaked case revealed itself in a swirl of lightning. He scanned his opponents with a glint of red in his once blue eyes as the case opened, revealing his inherited weapon, the tool of his will, Murasama, its blood-red appearance radiating with raw electric fury. "Heh, I've got my own war to fi-" BOOM.

Boris stared at his monitor in confusion as the call went dead in a blinding flash of light. The Russian grew concerned as Raiden's GPS suddenly went entirely off the grid; the Russian rushed into action, slamming his fingers across his keyboard trying to find a signal; "Raiden...What's happening?!...Raiden?!...RAIDEN!?

As the dust and debris began to clear in the almost medieval cellar, a pair of glowing red irises gleamed through the dust clogging the room, spotting two inhabitants. Raiden gripped his blade, loosely hanging it in his right hand as the cyborg scanned his surroundings. How the hell did he get here? Choosing to throw caution to the wind, the samurai approached the two figures, IR vision showing one still on the floor, gripping his arm while the other, clearly an elderly figure, leaned against a cane.

Still gripping his sword in his right, Raiden swung with his left, the force immediately blasting away the dust clouding the room, revealing the pair of men ahead. Disregarding their strange appearance, the cyborg took another step forward, holding his blade in their direction, "Talk, where the hell am I?"

Kariya gulped in hesitance, seeing the imposing figure as he cleared out of the smoke; his Servant brought an unexpected feeling of anxiety to his mind, the man seemed human at first glance, but something seemed off. The figure stood at almost six feet, towering over the pair ahead, his blonde locks swaying as the dust cleared out of the chamber.

The man had extremely pale skin, almost reflecting what little light came off the candles still lit across the room as he stepped forward. The sound of metal scraping against the stone ground reverberated in his ears like a fork dragged across a metal plate, causing both men to wince. Berserker seemed...very well dressed for the circumstances, a full three-piece suit decorating his physique; Servants typically wore what they died in, right?

The only indication that Berserker wasn't an average man was his glowing red eyes, almost boring a hole in his still shaking Master, and the equally imposing Katana in his hands, red jolts of electricity crackling off the blade as he spoke. A few moments passed in silence before the man grunted in frustration, "Well? I'm waiting..." As he raised the blade towards the pair.

His father broke the silence, breaking into a chuckle; a cackle soon blurred into outright hysterics. The patriarch dropped his cane, raising his hands in appraisal, staring down their new tool, "Simply fantastic! You're everything I hoped for...legendary hero Raiden..."

The man, out of time, could only stare in ahead, a mix of confusion and caution encircling his being; what the fuck did he stumble into this time? Raiden's artificial grip tightened, weapon still posed to strike, "What?! I asked you a question, where the hell am I?!"

The robed elder paused, his eyes scanning Berserker in silence before breaking into another sinister grin, "Why...you've been summoned as a Servant in the next Holy Grail War." Raiden stared in absolute confusion as the man sighed, "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

...

A few hours later

Raiden clicked his tongue in annoyance as he entered his "quarters" for the duration of this "Holy Grail War," his "Master" soon following behind, the door audibly clicking shut. As Kariya went about writing some sort of seal on the walls, the cyborg took stock of his situation and glanced across the room.

It seemed highly minimalist, as Spartan as possible with limited amenities, just how he liked things. With a shrug, the samurai took a seat on his new bed, with only the finest plain white sheets; the frame creaked in disagreement as his several tons of weight came to a rest. His white-haired associate continued to write, muttering obscenities to himself as Raiden observed his craft; this entire situation still seemed surreal.

A War for THE Holy Grail, with "heroic spirits" from across time summoned to duke it out over a wish? The cyborg had seen the depths of human depravity, the cruelty the world was capable of, but it always had some level of rationality. Even Vamp had scientific reasoning behind being an actual fucking vampire.

The ninja likely wouldn't have believed the pair until he saw just how they summoned him, the sword he left at Ground Zeroes; he really shouldn't have trusted Big Boss with it after they paid him in fucking watermelons, being in the past again aside, why did he do that?!

Raiden shook the thought from his mind; he needed to assess his bearings; where to start? This entire war seemed utterly impossible, but say it was real? Any wish? That would only draw the worst the world had to offer, madmen wanting to change the world in their image or worse; he couldn't walk away from this.

No, the cyborg knew he needed to fight this through or prevent something catastrophic from happening. He still had his weapon of choice, alongside his old HF blade and his inventory of various gadgets; good, he could work with that. As he grimaced, the warrior stared at what he undoubtedly thought was an upside-down cross on the wall; how would he handle magic?

While the mercenary somehow ran off the stuff instead of fuel, prana still hardly made sense; actual magic? He sighed; the Liberian dealt with the impossible daily; why not throw hexes into the mix? As the ninja collected himself, Kariya stood up, facing his new charge, "Okay, my father shouldn't be able to hear us now."

Raiden glanced up as the sickly man pulled up a chair across from him, gently taking a seat as he winced in pain; "I know you have questions, but just...hear me out." Kariya flinched as his arm throbbed once again, "You have to agree to fight by my side, so...I want to tell you what I want...my wish."

The man sighed, reaching a hand, rubbing his weary eyes, his skin reflecting the same ghastly visage, veins bulging along the side of his face. "To be blunt, I'm dying, but that's not why I'm doing this. My niece...Sakura, my father, is holding her hostage; if I don't do this... I have to win, or he'll do far worse to her."

The cyborg raised an eyebrow; the man caught his attention, crossing his synthetic arms as he gave him his full attention. "Why don't you just kill him and save yourself the trouble?" Kariya's eye shot open, glancing from side to side as if expecting someone to strike from the shadows, "not so loud...It's...not that simple...the disease...I...she's infected, and he controls it... I.."

Raiden scowled, his hands clenching in anger, "Let me guess, he dies, she dies?" Kariya could only nod in response; the ninja's blue eyes studied the man in front of him, years of training indicating no signs of a lie so far. He huffed in frustration; Raiden had a soft spot for kids, he couldn't just let her suffer, but he needed to know more.

"Say I believe you, what would you wish for? Whatever your fucking dad wants?" The plague-baring mage shook his head, "I'll...figure that out when it comes closer to the end; I just...need to help her...and for that, Raiden, I need your help."

The cyborg closed his eyes, thoughts considering the man's words. This entire situation seemed fishy, but his intentions seemed genuine, his niece was suffering the same fate as him, but the man chose to protect her. He could respect that; wishes aside, the ninja would find a way to protect the kid; he could do that much.

As Kariya continued to stare at the floor, hoping for any kind of help, he heard the Servant in front of him shifting position, the bed creaking in response. Raiden's raspy voice broke his stupor, "We'll do this my way, got it? Force me to do fucking anything, and the deal's off.

A glimmer of hope shined in Kariya's remaining eye, struggling to respond, "Then...you'll help?" The cyborg sighed as he reached out a hand, "just shake my hand before I regret this."

...

Later

Raiden kicked a chunk of gravel without a thought as he patrolled the Matou estate, defensive plans forming in his mind as he learned the ins and outs of his new base of operations. While the cyborg had no concept of magic, he did understand strategy and tech; years of dismantling auto-turrets, remote-controlled drones, and even other cyborgs taught him a thing or two.

Zouken seemed all too willing to give him a blank check to order whatever was necessary; Raiden wouldn't be grateful; the man wanted to win a war; price seemed no object given the enormity of wealth this family seemed to have on hand. At least he had resources; with their level of capital, the mercenary could make this place a literal fortress, impossible to crack; even with magic, humans, and Servants still bled; that was all he needed. Why use magic when bullets work just as good?

As Raiden rounded another corner, passing immaculately maintained and trimmed hedges alongside intricate stoneworks the likes of which he'd never seen, he pondered the War itself. Leaving other Servants aside, HE seemed an outlier; his "Master" mentioned his distinctive lack of "Madness," something about Berserkers having almost no conscious thought, just a living ball of rage and hatred.

The matter didn't bother him; he was Jack the Ripper, the White Devil, just another killer... Raiden knew more than anyone what madness did. Despite regaining Jack, he knew what his alternate personality was capable of; he'd spent his entire life keeping utter insanity in line. If Jack were madness incarnate, Berserker or not, he'd keep that shit in a cage, like he always did; it was part of him, not all of him.

Raiden passed another potential chokepoint, sensors, and auto-turrets here? This place would be untouchable when he was done with it. As the synthetic human decided to do one final lap around the property, another thought came to mind; how would he handle the other Servants?

Seven total: Saber, Archer, Rider, Lancer, Assassin, Caster, and him, Berserker, each had their own strengths; what to do? The cyborg knew he easily outpaced anyone in raw power; Kariya had explained his "stats" earlier; what the ninja lacked in know-how and magic, he made up for in what he did best; being the perfect killer.

This war meant far too much to go in without a plan like he usually did; no, he would need to plan, strike only when confident, a killer in the dark, just like before. If these spirits came from the past, they probably had ideas like honor and pride; Raiden chuckled at that; they'd be in for a rude awakening to modern warfare. Pride? Glory? Those concepts meant sweet nothing on the frontlines; only one thing truly mattered, who was left alive at the end of the day.

Humming an old theme he once saw in a movie as he planned where to place hidden cameras across the vast treelines the property had, Raiden smirked; no one would get in or out without them knowing. Kariya would function as his HQ; the man couldn't fight in his condition but could relay information and do research as Raiden did groundwork. They needed to ascertain who their enemies were, find their names, find their weaknesses, plan accordingly; simple, right?

The duo had another stark advantage; Raiden lacked a legend, at least at this time; the only people who'd even know of his identity at this point weren't the public types to begin with; no threat there. With any luck, they could take out the severe threats before moving in on the rest; it just came down to planning and coordinating. As the ninja nodded in silent approval of his plans, he turned towards the house, planning to turn in for the night; that just leaves Zouken and when the old fuck needed to die.

...

Two days later

Raiden sighed as he signed for yet another package at the front gate of the Matou residence; the eighth one that day, a small price to pay for security, he supposed. The box seemed far too heavy for the scrawny delivery boy to hold; although the teen likely didn't know he was carrying military hardware, the cyborg was still quick to take the boxes himself.

As Raiden stacked the last of the packages before signing the usual bullshit forms, the samurai briefly readjusted his tie before hearing a whistle in the distance. Glancing down the road at another upper-class residence, he saw a few clearly upper-class women, lounging about in the way only the rich could afford to do, giving him approving glances. This behavior had been the same since his first day "on the job" as the family's "Servant."

Honestly, the mercenary never understood why everyone called him a Pretty Boy; it wasn't like he DID anything to warrant their attention. Not that he ever reciprocated with that kind of affection; it never sat well with him.

The powerful always disgusted him, using their money or influence to dictate how the weak should live; what gave them the right to control others? With a hidden roll of his eyes, he gave the women a brief wave before heading back through the front gate; this act hurt his soul more than anything else.

After installing the last sensors and traps into position, Jack nodded in approval and surveyed his work in the main hallway. The estate had more weapons than even he could get past; he had finished what would have taken regular contractors weeks in just a few hours, perks of enhanced senses and not needing food or even rest, he supposed.

Hell, he was the one that came up with making a cyborg construction company, get the kids some work without having to do anything drastic. The man out of time, briefly froze as a smug face came to mind, "Kids are cruel, Jack, and I'm very in touch with my inner child."

Raiden clenched his fists as his eyes briefly flashed a brilliant red. He stared at the floor as his breath quickened as his heart rate rose; no one is naturally evil; if you raise someone in cruelty, they become cruel; Jack knew that all too well. He paused as he felt someone pulling on his sleeve, "Are you okay?"

His gaze returned to its cool blue; looking down, Raiden spotted a blotch of purple hair, seeing a girl with an almost emotionless face looking up at him. After a moment, he seemed to recognize her, "you're Kariya's niece, right?"

The girl gave a hesitant nod; she seemed almost scared. Raiden was never good with kids, hell, he struggled to relate to his own son sometimes, but he couldn't just ignore this. "How about you, kid? You doing okay?" The girl gave a small nod again, "Mhm since you got here, grandpa hasn't put me in the pit..." His eyes narrowed, "Something wrong with the basement?" The youngster went silent, staring at the floor before shaking her head, "I'm not allowed to talk about that..."

Her expression reminded him of his time in the Liberian jungle, children forced to kill their own families and destroy the only homes they ever knew; traumatized didn't fit the bill for what they endured. It broke his heart to see that lifeless stare on another child like she wasn't even in the room. Raiden took a deep breath, these situations required patience, something he lacked, but he'd find it if it meant getting this girl the help she needed.

"Okay, we don't have to talk about that; wanna see something cool?" catching her attention. Raiden reached into his suit jacket, pulling a few photos out of his wallet before handing them to her. As her purple orbs glanced over the pictures, he saw some semblance of normality coming back to her.

Pictures of his family, him bringing John to school for the first time for show and tell, who else could say their dad was a cyborg? "That's my son, John... you know; I think you two could be friends someday." Sakura looked to the floor, her eyes growing cold again, "Mama said I'd never have those..."

Raiden cringed, poor kid, "Well, I say you can; tell you what? When all this is over, I'll introduce you two; how's that sound?" A brief flash of hope crossed her face, "Really? But Grandpa..." The cyborg shook his head, "You want friends, don't you?" getting a slight nod, he smiled, "Good, it's settled then." the girl seemed to fidget, unsure of what to do before looking up, "promise?" in a rare sign of humanity, Raiden's warm smile persisted, "How about this, you can give me those back when you meet him, okay?" A small smile grew on her face, "okay...". Soon his Master's niece was on her way as he returned to his work.

A few moments later, Raiden heard another pair of steps approaching, "You may be a machine, but your heart is still human." turning to see Kariya leaning against a doorway. His eyes widened in surprise, "Where did you hear that?"

The beleaguered man tapped his temple with his good arm, "it's part of our connection; I see pieces of your memories in my dreams sometimes." Raiden sighed; of course, some shit like that would happen, "just don't go spilling government secrets; I know things that could start wars." His "Master" grunted as he stood upright, "Yeah, I saw a few things I'd rather forget about...I just wanted to say thanks; it's rare to see her smile these days."

Glancing back at his work, the samurai finished tightening a few wires, "She doesn't deserve this..." Nodding in agreement, Kariya made his way to the door, "Yeah...come on, let's go over the plan one more time before the War kicks off tomorrow." Standing upright, Raiden cracked his neck, releasing an unnoticed tension; maybe he wasn't as bad with kids as he thought, maybe...after losing Rose, he got better without noticing...."You coming?" He snapped out of his reflections, "Yeah"...

...

The Next Day

Raiden lounged in the manor's study, glancing across different books about magic, particularly its combative uses. Of course, he knew he couldn't use any of this, but it helped to understand what his opponents had on hand. While the cyborg wasn't a genius, he picked things up quickly; spells and the such had requirements, meaning words, materials, the usual stuff he saw in movies.

Raiden smirked as he read over even basic attacks requiring incantations; those took time, he found his ace. A few seconds delay meant nothing to the average person, but as warfare advanced, the seconds determined outcomes themselves. Signal delays, reaction times when using firearms, the advent of cyborg technology itself; war grew ever faster, entire battles determined within split seconds. He had an advantage; his speed, of course, cyborgs, moved at a pace far beyond what humans could, but he was in a time when they didn't exist yet.

Servants entered the world with an understanding of all necessary modern inventions, concepts, languages, and such; it explained why he suddenly knew Japanese. Cyborgs existed in science fiction and nothing beyond; they'd have no fucking idea how to handle him; a dark chuckle escaped, good.

Raiden glanced up at his hud; his internal clock had already adjusted to the new time zone when he landed in the past, nine at night; thankfully, he didn't need sleep. Blood sugar implant beats the hell out of coffee; damn right it did.

The cyborg leaned back in his leather chair and briefly rubbed his synthetic eyes; his world became blurry black as he gave himself a moment of respite. Reading was never one of his strong suits, he could do so when he needed to prepare for a mission, but he only became literate at the ripe age of twelve. A life of war didn't leave much room for philosophy or great works of literature until he dealt with Desperado, apparently. Figuring he had enough to absorb, he slowly stood up from the desk, taking in the room before striding across the hardwood floors.

The study felt more like a library to him, books of all sorts lining the walls, decorations more in line with something he'd see in one of his movies than an actual study. When you have money to burn, you tend to buy stupid stuff, not that he lived a life of luxury; taking care of his son and giving him a good life was all Raiden needed.

He glanced up at the wall, ignoring the portraits of its previous owners, looking at a mirror coated in a decorative silver plating. The cyborg stared at his features, remembering something Kariya had mentioned the night before. "All Servants have a base form and one for combat; for most, it would just change their outfit into their armor or something along those lines, but you? Who knows?"

Taking a brief moment to glance around the room, Raiden sighed; this situation felt more like Harry Potter than any War he'd been part of; even without knowing how it worked, the Grail gave him access to some new tricks, he just needed to figure out how to use them.

They already figured out that since he wasn't dead, he couldn't use that "spirit form thing," an ability to dematerialize and follow Kariya like some kind of ghost, not that it mattered to him; he'd just run if needed.

The Liberian-American stared at his complexion, his pale blue eyes contrasting against the calm yellow lights speckled across the room. His hair swayed as a light breeze flowed in through a window, cascading across his pale white skin; picture yourself, your true form, not the man in front of you.

Raiden paused, pondering the question...he wasn't a man or machine, something in between; Jack gazed at his hands, synthetic skin covering mechanical prosthetics hidden beneath; how do you see yourself? He closed his artificial eyes, picturing his internal components; in place of his fuel cells burned a blazing purple pyre, its coils wrapping through his circuits. Imagine grabbing hold of it and molding it; then project that image onto yourself. As the inferno burned brighter than before, he heard a voice as his memory banks booted up a saved file.

Raiden paused as the memory loaded inside of a jet, flying at record speeds across the Atlantic Ocean. He remembered this, right after his surgery, when Sam had nearly killed him; he knew he needed to get stronger, by any means necessary; the Patriots didn't leave him much, to begin with, so why not?

The rain blanketed the craft as it defied gravity, flying just above the waterline as waves crashed into one another. His intercom connected back to HQ; Kevin popped on screen, his orange shades always hanging somewhere except his head. "Objectives, of course, are to enter Abkhazia and restore the rightful government...or what's left of it anyway. The president and most of the cabinet have been killed, and a military junta's been established."

Pictures of destroyed buildings and dead civilians flooded his hud as his friend leaned back in his chair to sip his coffee. "Like I was saying, the terrorists brain-jacked all the high-ranking officers, and their cyborgs scattered the rank and file." Right, the start of his war against Desperado, starting in Abkhazia, he planned to track down each operation until he found the ringleaders, one by one; it had taken weeks of preparation, but he finally had a lead.

Raiden glanced toward the approaching shoreline before looking back at Kevin as the man rambled on. "The few leaders who have survived have no way of openly opposing the new regime. And that's why they called us..."

Boris huffed in annoyance as Kevin pulled up another picture, a man that screamed Russian from his mere presence, adorning an ushanka cap coated in some animal fur or other; its black coating contrasting with his tan skin and brown beard. Jack remembered that crazy son of a bitch; the Chechen that nearly brought the Federation to a standstill.

His Slavic friend continued, "Andrey Dolzaev, leader of the occupation forces. An extremist linked to both the St. Petersburg massacre of 2015 and last year's terror spree in Georgia" The mustachioed head of operations put both hands on his employees' shoulders "and his supplier? None other than Desperado Enforcement, LLC."

Raiden grimaced, "Nmani's killers." the two had become friends during his four-year deployment to Kenya, watching the country build itself back up from the ground with his guiding hand, just to burn away in a day; what a waste. The rest of the conversation passed in a blur, regaining his focus as a picture of Jetstream Sam came on screen as his team ascertained the risks involved.

Raiden shook the thoughts from his mind, gripping his new fists in determination; it would be different this time. "The only problem I see is that nickname." Glancing down at his newly augmented form, "I've got my enhancements this time. He won't be an issue. I'm ready for insertion."

As the aircraft dropped even closer to the salty sea below, the lower hatch opened, slowly lowering Raiden on his launchpad, aimed right at the coast. Fighting with one eye was a pain in the ass; he remembered that much; how Doktor couldn't get him an eye in three weeks still baffled him. As the jet got closer to the shoreline, Raiden's cybernetic form crackled in electricity as he jettisoned off the platform, flying at speeds well over Mach 2 directly at the beach ahead.

Streams of water arched around his passing form as he glided over waves like a bird hunting prey. The samurai funneled power into his hands, using the shockwave to propel himself into a spinning flip in the air before landing on the shore in a crouch. Water droplets dissolved in seconds as static jettisoned off his new, fully enhanced form.

Back in the past, a blue wave of crackling blue electricity surrounded Raiden's body from the feet up, encasing him within seconds. Soon, the energy radiated a brilliant light before dimming and flaking off his form. The cyborg opened his eyes, staring in awe at the mirror.

In place of his normal body, given to him by force from the Patriots, stood the form provided by Herr Doktor, his fully enhanced combat suit. The armor looked just as he had it, blackened limbs enhanced with golden circuits intricately dancing around his form. Electric probes jutted out of his back and shoulders, allowing built-up charge to leave his systems.

The cyborg glanced downwards; his shoe-like appendages were replaced with three metallic talons with a heel in the back, capable of highspeed movement and added grip strength when climbing. Raiden looked back up; two blue eyes stared back; at least he kept the replacement. His body lacked the synthetic skin he usually had, his lower jaw fully exposed once more, but it didn't phase him. A loch of gravity-defying white hair fell into his field of view; brushing it away, he could only smirk at his reflection; okay, magic was pretty fucking cool.

A few moments passed as Raiden continued to examine his form before taking a breath and closing his lenses. He pictured his normal state, a stylish suit with a human-like appearance, the oh-so-famous heartbreaker look, something he still couldn't fathom. After a moment of concentration, the samurai felt the same tingling sensation as before, feeling his body shifting as if it were made of light.

A second later, and the feeling had passed, he opened his eyes once again to see his previous attire, raising a hand to straighten out his yellow tie, he would have to practice that, but he'd make it work. Raiden knew he would have to hold back on using his true strength until absolutely necessary; you don't reveal your entire hand at once.

A few minutes had passed, and Raiden spent it adjusting to his new transformation, getting the process down to a few seconds, better than before, but it needed work. The cyborg soon heard a familiar pair of footsteps approaching the study; deciding to remain in his suit, he leaned against the wall, waiting for his "Master" to enter.

With the twist of a door handle, Kariya plodded into the study, spotting his only ally for the duration of this War. "Look alive; we got activity." Raiden straightened out, standing upright as he glanced out a nearby window, the moonlight illuminating his pupils, the light exposing the circuitry beneath the surface, "Servants?" Kariya hummed in confirmation, pulling out his phone before tossing it at the cyborg who caught it between two fingers.

Glancing down at the screen, Raiden could see two figures fighting, a man and a woman, with another standing in the background. "I sent one of my familiars to check out a spike in prana activity and caught them fighting at the docks; what's the plan here?"

Raiden continued to watch the footage; the blurry camera really couldn't catch much, a man with black hair facing a blonde woman; squinting, he might have seen a spear but the pixelated footage made that difficult to tell. He hummed in thought; this could be an opportunity to gauge how strong they were, observe from a distance and see his standing.

He'd have to stick to the shadows; this was a conflict he had no experience in; he'd have to do things Snake's way. Nodding in agreement with himself, Raiden walked towards the door, tossing Kariya his phone along the way. "I'll head there myself and record what I can; you stay here and go over the data; try to figure out who these people are and what I can do about them."

As the cyborg reached the doorway, the Matou put a hand on his shoulder, "Just remember the stakes, my niece..." Jack nodded, "I made her a promise, didn't I?" Kariya lowered his arm, "Yeah...make sure you keep it." Turning away, Raiden strode out the door and towards the exit; he let those children become cyborgs; he wouldn't let that poor girl suffer; the warrior made a promise not just to her but to himself that he'd help any children if it meant they wouldn't turn out like him.

Making his way out of the manor, Raiden took in the night sky of Fuyuki City; street lights illuminated the darkened sky, a light rain pouring off the black clouds overhead. The past had one thing he missed, cities that felt safe; the recession hit hard, municipalities all across the developed world seemed more soviet than ever.

Plain concrete cubes lining the streets never painted a lovely picture; they reflected the destitute state the world fell into after the global war economy came to a crashing halt. The 90s and early 2000s still had that fantastic blend of modernism mixed with traditional architecture he couldn't get enough of, progress with a flair.

With the internet still a relatively new invention, his systems managed to easily hack the city's government websites, downloading all sorts of schematics and maps of the metropolis. While he wouldn't deny the matter, Raiden certainly wouldn't admit he hacked into a few bank accounts along the way; he didn't need Zouken monitoring his purchases; besides, a few corrupt politicians wouldn't miss a few grand, right?

Back to the matter at hand, his systems had easily incorporated the data into his hud, providing directions towards the docks. Raiden cracked his neck in anticipation. His suit jacket lightly billowed in the night wind as droplets of water dissolved off his body on impact as electricity flowed across his circuits.

He could only smirk as the familiar energy build up crossed his core and into his legs before taking off at speeds faster than most humans could comprehend out of the property and into the city.

As Raiden crossed the metropolis, his form only appearing as an arc of blue electricity, the cyborg marked locations of interest along the way; he didn't plan to fight just yet, preferring to observe and plan accordingly. After settling on a skyscraper a mile away from the port, Jack scaled the verticle structure, defying gravity as his magnetic anchors kept him attached to the surface as his momentum carried him upwards.

As the samurai rounded the roof's edge, he kicked off into a flip, flying upwards before landing in a crouch atop a helicopter pad. While most couldn't make decent observations, if any, from this distance, Raiden's augmentations made those issues null and void; enhanced audio and visual implants had their many benefits.

As the cyborg turned and faced the direction of the dockyard, he activated his IR lens, the case closing around his eyes, enhancing his senses as he crouched just in front of the rooftop edge.

As Jack's sensors locked onto the docks, he saw the typical trade hub, shipping containers, and warehouses lining the area with few ships present. His scans picked up multiple people present, several along the rooftops, and construction equipment scattered about the site. The clashing of blades caught his attention, focusing on the streets below, spotting three figures.

Two warriors faced off, a man with black hair wielding two spears against a woman with blonde hair and almost medieval armor, clearly wielding something, but it was masked by a strange swirling wind. The samurai glanced in confusion before switching between different lenses, settling on infrared; he saw through the illusion, spotting an intricate golden sword in her hands.

Hiding it with magic so he can't see how long the blade is? Clever. Raiden stared as the pair clashed once more, the swordsman going for an underhand strike as the spearman patiently waited for another opportunity to strike.

As the pair continued their dance, Jack snapped photos with his built-in lens, sending them back to Kariya with mere thoughts, one of the perks of having computer chips in your brain, he supposed. Hearing a grunt of pain, he glanced back from his communications; the spearman had pierced the woman's armor...with no damage to anything but her?

He needed to remember that for later; who knows what that thing could do to a living piece of armor like a cyborg. Spears? So that must be Lancer; the other uses a sword...Saber? The swordman reoriented herself, discarding the armor before lunging in once more, trying to negate his ability with sheer speed, falling right into a trap, the second spear cutting along her arm.

Despite the pair moving at rates far beyond what humans could sense outside of blurs, to Jack, it acted in slow motion, processors embedded in his brain, allowing him to perceive time at far better rates than even mages themselves. Severed tendon, rendering the arm useless...these people were dangerous; every move had the intent to cripple or kill; he'd have no time to screw around when they came to blows.

As Raiden watched, he heard another voice reciting an incantation, sounding like one of those healing spells he read about, spotting a woman behind Saber, with silver hair and blood-red eyes, a Master? His enhanced hearing picked up their conversation in detail; the spell didn't work, but why? He pondered the question; In all his years, every combatant he'd ever faced had their own MO, weapon of choice, and fighting style.

Two spears, one to shred through armor...the other would cut through flesh, basic yet clever logic. So that's his play, trick them into discarding their armor, wound them, then wait out the clock; Raiden chuckled at that, guess he isn't the only one that didn't give a damn about honor. So, the second spear made wounds that couldn't heal, a nonthreat to him considering he didn't have blood, just coolant fluid, but every piece of information helped; snapping pictures of the man and his dual weapons of choice for later use.

The pair stood off, intent on seeing their dual through to the end, Lancer holding a significant advantage, Saber struggling to lift her sword, her arm shaking as she defiantly held on. As the duo launched into another clash of blades, a roar of thunder boomed in the sky as an equally boisterous laugh rang across the city.

A figure shot across the sky; Raiden almost couldn't believe what he saw, a flying sleigh with actual fucking Oxen. Lightning roared across the sky, arching across the battlefield as his chariot slammed into the ground between the two fighters. The man stood tall, easily seven feet at the minimum, with tanned skin and hair as red as fire. The figure wore an elaborate red cape of some unknown fur, his forearms covered in leather bracers as he held them out in triumph.

"Both of you sheathe your blades. You are in the presence of a king!" The giant glanced from side to side, sheer excitement radiating across his wide grin. "I am Iskandar, King of Conquerers! I am the Rider class in this Holy Grail War!"

Silence reigned across the dockyard; almost no party present or distant could comprehend what just happened. A Servant openly declaring his identity for the world to know seemed moronic at a surface level; Raiden knew better. The man radiated sheer confidence, landing in the midst of a battlefield to declare his presence; even in modern war, revealing your hand like that only meant one thing; he didn't care.

The only people who played a hand like that knew they were the strongest party present; giving away that information wouldn't turn the tide of battle. The cyborg would file that information away for later; Iskandar was a threat.

As Rider gave a recruitment speech of some sort, Raiden weighed his options. Three classes so far, each seemingly a threat in their own right; magic did a lot more than previously thought, a flying chariot wasn't on his list, but he'd make do.

The ninja glanced back towards the commotion, but something caught his attention on the infrared scanner. A figure stood at a distance, crouched atop a light pole, hiding in the darkness, but they weren't facing the group; they were observing him. Pale blue cybernetics stared down the hollow white sockets beneath a skull-shaped mask.

The figure, a man he presumed, wore blackened robes atop an equally darkened skin, blending in with the cover of night; if it weren't for his enhanced scanners, even Raiden might have missed it. Time seemed to come to a stop, the voices below drowning out as the two men faced off, a mile apart yet feeling as if they were mere feet from one another. The cyborg gripped Murasama's sheathe as the figure continued to stare him down before leaping back into the shadows, disappearing from sight.

Jack waited a few moments, checking his radar; nothing...like the man was there one moment and gone the next. He felt himself exhale a withheld breath. Raiden hadn't even noticed it, but that figure brought out a feeling he only experienced in the jungles of Liberia, being hunted down by other PMCs, never knowing where the enemy could strike next; that man was a predator, stalking him like prey.

That had to be Assassin; the figure radiated an essence he only felt from men like Snake, the kind of threat that could slice your throat if you even looked away for a second. One Servant knows what he looks like, that wasn't great, but he'd find a way to manage. Raiden grimaced; what would have happened if he didn't pick up on Assassin watching him?

The Berserker class shook the thought from his mind but decided to keep a closer eye on his sensors, refocusing his gaze on the noise below as the trio argued back and forth. As the group continued to bicker, a blinding yellow light illuminated the battlefield, almost like a miniature sun; dazzling sparks radiated across the gloomy night sky, contrasting with the light rain overhead.

From the particles, a figure materialized and emerged. The man, looking more like a human chandelier than anything, wore armor forged from pure gold, his blood-red eyes contrasting with his pale skin and equally blonde hair. The figure hovered above the masses, like a shepherd overseeing his flock; "You mongrels dare speak of kings in my presence, the king of kings?" BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

Glancing down at his radar Raiden saw a blip approaching the base of the skyscraper atop which he stood. The dot seemingly grew larger and larger. His mind rapidly ran through the problem, formulating plans within nanoseconds; unknown individual scaling the tower would approach from directly behind; likely intent on combat. His systems could detect the slightest vibration, the quietest of sounds, and whether they masked their presence didn't matter.

The ninja needed to reveal as little as possible; he needed to assassinate an assassin then; Jack's frustration grew to elation; he lived and breathed unorthodox methods; they wouldn't know what hit them.

Springing into action, Raiden turned as his left hand squeezed the trigger along Murasama's sheathe; the blade shot into the night sky in an explosive quickdraw. The cyborg funneled power into his enhanced limbs, cybernetic augmentations flaring in electric blue fury as Jack leaped into a backflip high above the clouds.

His radar pinged once more; the figure had made the climb just as he lept out of sight. With its blinding light and breathtaking views, the city below spun into nonexistence as he faced the dark void above, blips of starlight peaking out away from the haze of light pollution. As the cyborg finished his arch just above his weapon of choice, Murasama finished its own trajectory, gravity beginning to pull the tool blade first towards the building below.

Jack's eyes burned in a hellish red as his talons latched onto the hilt, forcing himself into a crouch as several tons of Patriot made steel plummeted down towards the roof with the force of gravity towards his target.

The figure could only glance up as a shadow loomed overhead before Murasama impaled straight through their spine. Several tons of weight slammed through bone as internal organs literally liquified from the force, pitch-black blood splattering across the roof as Raiden crashed into the landing pad.

Standing upright atop a pile of gore and viscera, Jack gave an appreciative nod at his brilliance before latching his sword between his talons and kicking it into the air, letting the electric blade slide back into its sheathe by itself.

Glancing down at what remained of his failed assailant, he saw the same figure from earlier. Black skin, a crushed mask, presumably a skull, but it was almost nothing but crumbled remains. His eyes narrowed as he stared down at the corpse, black steam coming off the body as it began to evaporate before his very eyes; that seemed...almost too- DING DING DING DING DING DING.

Time seemed to dilate as Jack looked up, taking a dodging leap backward as a hail of knives and kunai sailed through the night sky, embedding themselves into the roof alongside the body, blackened ooze spurting up as they impacted. Without a thought, the samurai instinctively drew his inherited weapon once more as the rain continued to pour, lightning illuminating the night sky as six figures landed around him in a circular pattern.

Between the flashes of light, Raiden could see...Assassin?! Each looked slightly different, yet all had the same general appearance, blackened skin, white masks; the split seconds of light made it difficult, but he swore he saw men, women, some short and others tall. Another flash of light confirmed his concerns as time slowed once more; each was nearly identical yet slightly different; were they clones or something else?

He didn't know nearly enough for this. He couldn't flee; that put unnecessary risk on Kariya and his niece if they somehow followed him back. He didn't know enough about magic yet, but a tracking spell? That didn't seem impossible, given what he'd witnessed. No, the mission changed; they always do; the cyborg's vision burned a bright blue in determination; he'd kill Assassin here and now.

Raiden tightened his hold over the grip in his right hand defensively as the figures slowly closed in, none saying a word as their whitened irises stared him down. Red currents crackled off Murasama's edge as he menacingly gazed back in defiance; they were dead fucking wrong if they thought this would scare him.

The figures slowly withdrew blades from their cloaks, some wielding knives, others shortswords as they circled him like vultures. The cyborg no longer heard any distant conversation, just the tattering of rain across the paved roof alongside the crackle of electricity from his sword. Jack knew this feeling all too well, the calm before battle, where combatants only experienced the enemy ahead, the world drowning away as if it never existed.

Worries, anxieties, fears, hatred, it all bled away as your blades clashed; your class, your religion, none of it mattered on the battlefield. He darkly chuckled, "No big speech about how you're gonna change the world?" The ninja received no response; the figures lowered into various stances, ready to strike.

Without a word, Raiden issued a mental command and soon felt the familiar calm of his IR sensors clamping around his eyes like a visor, a glowing red pattern flaring across as they hummed to life. The cyborg lowered his pommel, the blade ominously glowing as its point faced its newest foes, letting out an excited breath; he grinned, "Fine...let's dance!"

Refusing to stay idle, Jack launched forward at incredible speeds, heading right for the figure ahead. A woman with cascading purple hair, much like the others, most of her form was concealed, but his enhancements could catch even minor details. Brandishing a knife in each hand, her right lower than the left, poised to strike.

Indescribablybright blue arcs of electricity crackled off his form as he reached her within nanoseconds, her eyes only just beginning to react to his sheer momentum. Using his speed, Jack launched into a spin to his left, his sword swinging along with his shift in direction. His form spun, appearing as little more than a blur to even highly trained eyes; he dropped his grip as his left foot slammed into the paved rooftop, splintering rocks as it embedded itself.

His metallic talons caught his sword with a vicious right kick as his leg swung diagonally to the left, completely bisecting the Assassin in two clean slices. Before her corpse could even fall to the forces of gravity, his sword-bearing appendage rocketed backward as he forced power into his left, kicking off into a vicious front flip.

Murasama appeared as little more than a blood-red blur as it swayed upright before slamming down straight through her skull, only stopping as it cleaved her apart.

Chunks of dark flesh slapped against man-made concrete; faster than anything a human could hope to achieve, Jack turned to block a downward slash from another clone. His right talons shot straight into the sky as High-Frequency tech met magically enhanced steel.

The male Assassin's eyes remained static, unable to even perceive the rates Jack maneuvered in, black hair flowing in slow motion as an unstoppable force cleaved straight through his short sword. Raiden sneered as blackened ooze splattered across the rain-coated rooftop as he sliced the man perfectly down the middle, his eyes glowing a furious red as he smiled in elation. His internal radar pinging the remaining Assassins as they backed off in caution, they underestimated him, and they wouldn't live to speak of it.

Thunder roared as lightning overhead illuminated his form, a demon from hell coated in blackened blood, his eyes glowing in untold fury as he maliciously grinned. The remaining four assassins hesitated a brief moment, a few even taking a step back before regaining their composure, staring him down in defiance as they took off towards him as a unit.

Their steps echoed across the rooftop as droplets of water splattered on impact as they charged, all too slow. The cyborg watched as another flash in the night sky exposed his remaining prey, three men, one woman. Two of the men, running to his left, wielding shortswords; one in his left, the other loosely in his right, a feint? The remaining male on the right brandished a pair of knives in his hand as the woman threw a hail of kunai toward his metallic form.

Another flash of light illuminated Raiden's form before the cyborg vanished from sight; the thrown blades sailing by where he once stood, embedding themselves in various electrical units atop the platform, sparks flying into the sky. The male duo could only gawk in surprise as their assailant seemed to rematerialize directly in front of them.

Jack sprung into action as the pair raised their arms to strike him down. The cyborg out of hell launched into an aerial spin; his grip tightened as Murasama sliced clean through a rainguard, bisecting the offender's sword in two before dropping his own.

Jack lurched downward as he reoriented mid-air, his right talons catching his crackling blade in a horizontal kick. Flesh met HF steel as the samurai sliced both figures' heads clean off, their bodies dropping like rocks as blackened ooze mixed with the falling rain, swirling across the rooftop as their former weapons clanged against the cold platform.

Spinning a clean 180 with ease, Jack kicked his sword into the air, catching Murasama's grip in his right as he raised the tool of war over his shoulder. The cyborg steadied his aim as both hands gripped the sword, electricity exploding off his form.

Raiden lurched his shoulders back like an Archer drawing their bow as his luminous form contrasted with the white streaks of lightning overhead. Thunder boomed overhead as the samurai launched forward at explosive speeds, his feet unmoving as electric currents carried him across the ramshackle battlefield.

He reached his target within nanoseconds; hellish-red energy burst off Mursama's edge as Jack thrust his hand-crafted blade forward, stabbing the woman through the heart as she gasped in momentary agony. Her knives clattered to the rooftop, and her eyes briefly widened and burst as thousands of volts of raw electricity crashed through her nervous system.

Servant or not, human bodies had limits, raw voltage completely frying the Assassin as Raiden kicked the charred body off his blade, the corpse slumping to the roof.

The remaining Assassin took a hesitant step back as their enemy as red lightning arched across his blade, dancing across his form as equally demonic eyes met his white irises. He gulped in angst as Berserker stepped over the bodies of his former allies, slowly but steadily crossing the roof towards his position.

This mission had gone entirely wrong; they were meant to probe and report their findings; this was a massacre... Droplets of rain splashed across his cloak as the Assassin turned and took off as fast as possible. He needed to flee, to report his findings, warn his Master of the monster that wiped them out like nothing. The clone broke into an all-out sprint, magically enhanced limbs flinging him towards the edge before taking a running leap.

He had hardly cleared the edge before his momentum fell short, feeling an iron grip on his legs. Gravity soon caught up with the unknown Assassin as his form lurched downwards, his legs remaining in place as his assailant maintained his hold over a fully grown man as if he weighed nothing. "Going somewhere?" Glancing back up to see that same maniacal grin.

Raiden maintained his hold on the Assassin's leg, watching the man dangle helplessly over the edge; who better to get intel from than the enemy themselves? After all, Jack specialized in making people talk; if anyone knew what made a man crack, it was him.

His grin grew wider in anticipation; killing was an act of evil; he'd never deny that, but the cyborg would never deny loving it anyways. The samurai had learned young that killing your enemies felt good, really good...Raiden couldn't reject Jack as if he didn't exist; whether or not he wanted to admit it, his other half was equally the same person; he might as well let his other half do what he did best, right?

Raiden's metallic grip tightened, the man crying in agony as his left tibia shattered into dust as the figure above slowly dragged him back towards the roof, towards death itself. "We're gonna have a lot of fun, you and me; maybe tell some secrets? Whaddya say?"

As Assassin's form nearly reached the roof's edge, the clone threw caution to the wind, gripping his knife and plunging it into his own throat; pitch-black flesh gave way as the assailant caused his own demise. Black liquid dripped off his form as the life slowly faded from his sunken white eyes before going limp entirely. Jack stared in disappointment as his entertainment expired before getting to have his fun.

Huffing in annoyance at having his pleasure ruined, the cyborg let go, the corpse plummeting to the ground below, splattering into jelly on impact, nothing remaining besides blackened ooze and bone fragments.

The sound and clutter of Fuyuki's nightlife came roaring back as Raiden reoriented back into reality; the cyborg took in his surroundings, bodies lining the roof in various stages of decomposition, interesting.

His eyes shifted back to their neutral blue as he glanced at his first target, making his way across the platform. Her body was almost gone at this point, as if it had rotted away in mere seconds; the killer stared in intrigue; that had to be magic, right? He hummed in thought as the body burned away into ash before even that disappeared in a gust of purple flames as if they never existed at all.

None of those was the real Assassin; it felt too easy; his enhanced mind rand through possible scenarios. The Assassins were testing the waters, just like him; that attack was likely a probe gone wrong; they didn't expect him to wipe their entire unit out within less than a minute. The last one running indicated two possibilities; Assassin had to verbally communicate with their drones to relay information, or he had a finite number of them; maybe both?

Jack shrugged it off, rain evaporating as it touched his immaculately dry suit; the cyborg returned to his original position, intent on resuming his survey. As he approached the roof's edge, the ninja crouched, zooming in with his artificial eyes, seeing nothing.

Raiden's lens switched to infrared; his results stayed the same; the others must have either changed location or retreated, likely the latter. The docks didn't have nearly enough damage to indicate a prolonged fight; a few wrecked shipping containers summed up tonight's activities. He grimaced, that fight cost him essential information, but he'd have to make due.

Two classes remained; the floating one was likely Archer; he couldn't fathom a class like Caster wearing anything but a mage's robe, but that could be movie bias, but that hadn't steered him wrong so far in life.

His metallic legs clenched as the ninja stood upright; tonight gave him a lot to go over, but he'd leave that for later. Once more, Raiden left nothing but a blur of roaring blue electricity as he launched across the roof, running vertically down the skyscraper, using gravity as propellent before launching off into the metropolis, heading back to base.

...

Kariya glanced up from his computer, still in the study, the grandfather clock dinging as the arms reached midnight. The emaciated man extended his good arm into the air, stretching his exhaustion out of his system.

Moonlight glazed through the windows, illuminating the ornate wooden decor of the library, droplets of rain pattered against the glass as he contemplated his circumstances. Raiden had sent far more footage than he'd expected, although he wouldn't complain.

Lowering his good arm back down, he rested his elbow on his desk, his chin in his hand as he rewatched tonight's footage once again. The Matou opened a few new note tabs, writing names, appearances, weapons, anything of value for later use.

The footage switched over to Berserker's encounter with Assassin; Kariya could only grin as his Servant butchered them like rats. The man broke into a chuckle, soon turning into manic laughter as he imagined the possibilities, just what he could accomplish with a slave like that.

A wave of all too familiar nausea churned in his abdomen as his throat forced open. Shoving a hand over his mouth, the man dove out of his chair, crawling to a nearby trashcan before releasing the contents of his stomach. After a few moments of agony, his hands shakily gripped the sides of the container as he looked down at his mess; his eyes widened as he saw worms writhing around in his bile.

The Matou gasped as he fell backward, heart pounding as beads of sweat formed on his aged features. What was he thinking? Christ... Taking a deep breath, the man leaned back against the desk, staring out the window, facing the full moon; Kariya gripped his bad arm as his mind reoriented itself; You have to keep it together, for her... the sickly man winced at his reflection in the window.

His attacks were getting worse, but he just needed to last a few weeks; whatever happened after didn't matter; Sakura's life and happiness were at stake; he'd endure anything for his family. Slowly the beleaguered adult got up, legs shaking as he made his way back to the desk, getting back to work.

...

later

Raiden closed the front doors to the manor behind him as he entered; the cyborg had zig-zagged across the city in meandering patterns for an hour, making sure no one had followed him.

Readjusting his suit, the ninja made his way through the maze-like halls of the estate; the place seemed so desolate without maids and butlers running around to appease their Lord. He withheld a gag; even thinking about that old fuck pissed him off.

Soon enough, Raiden found his way to the study; he sighed as he turned the door handle; tonight needs to end already. Entering the library, the samurai spotted Kariya furiously typing away before the man glanced up, waving him to close the door. With a click, the room was sealed with the help of whatever spells his "Master" had used on the space.

"So, find anything useful so far?" Kariya hummed in thought, tapping away at his keys before turning his laptop, the monitor facing the cyborg. "Remember when Rider mentioned his name? I found him."

Raiden hummed in thought as he zoomed in on the image; Iskandar the Conquerer, right? The picture was an old piece of art, people of all classes celebrating alongside Classical Era soldiers, adorned in metal armor, leather bracers, wielding spears.

Fires burned in the background in bronze cauldrons, standing ahead of ornate white buildings, contrasting with the imposing army marching into the city. However, the centerpiece of the work caught his attention; riding in on a blissfully white chariot decorated in elaborate golden etchings was the man in question, smiling triumphantly as he raised a sword above the masses.

Kariya nodded, catching his attention, "Alexander the Great's Invasion of India." Raiden raised an eyebrow, a finger resting beneath his chin, "No shit? Huh..." The man was nothing like he'd expected; then again, how would you act if you conquered the entire known world?

Kariya turned the screen back towards himself, typing away, "I'm still piecing the others together; how'd things go out there?" The cyborg shrugged, "You saw the footage." His "Master" shook his head, "That's not what I meant; what do you think of the War so far?"

Raiden paced around the room, glancing across the bookshelves as Kariya went back to work. His false shoes clacked along the hardwood floor as he considered the question. He cleared his raspy throat, "Here's the thing about pricks like Rider; they think the fucking world of themselves." The Matou glanced from behind his monitor, "So?".

The cyborg continued his pace, looking over book titles, spotting works from Foucault and even Baldwin, "You saw how they acted out there, having a conversation on a battlefield...I know the type, they would sooner die than lose any of their 'honor.'" Kariya's good eye glanced at his desk for a brief moment, "So, what can we do with that?"

Jack turned to face his supposed Master, his blue irises shifting red as he spoke, "Unlike them, I don't give a shit what anyone thinks of me; so, I say, we lie, cheat, do whatever necessary to win this fucking war."

Kariya laughed, taking his functional hand off the keyboard, "Glad we agree on something, but what do you think our odds are?" The cyborg stared out the window, glancing across the freshly cut garden, his eyes settling on a statue of the Virgin Mary atop a fountain, "The other Servants aren't a threat, get me their names and weaknesses, and I'll deal with the rest."

The Matou nodded, "I'll get it done..." taking a glance at the clock, he saw it was already one-thirty in the morning, "You should turn in for the night; I'll do some more research in the meantime." Raiden nodded, "Alright," he could use some shut-eye anyway; making his way back towards the door, he took one last look at his "Master" before closing the door behind him, heading back to bed for some much-needed rest.

Closing his door, the cyborg leaned against the wooden frame, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. God, in times like this, he really missed Snake? Opening his synthetic eyes, Jack strolled across the room before slowly taking a seat on his bed, laying back as he stared at the pale white ceiling above, arms resting behind his head. 'Raiden, Raiden, Raiden, I thought you were an 'expert in stealth.'

The samurai chuckled at the memory; Kevin could be an ass sometimes. Becoming a cyborg threw his previous means of war out the proverbial window; he had trained for years, thinking he was a member of Foxhound, it was all a lie, of course, but his training wasn't.

His brow furled in annoyance, even remembering the Patriots pissed him off to no end; the lies, the deceit, the manipulation, a never-ending cycle of bullshit. Jack shook the thought from his mind; it wasn't the time to get sentimental; it was in the past; he needed to move forward.

How should he move ahead? Raiden glanced out a nearby window, the moon looming just out of sight; the other Servants weren't what he expected. He had made decent headway today, getting enough information for Kariya to go off from anyways.

Saber and Lancer seemed relatively normal, albeit they were the same as Rider at the end of the day. The samurai knew the type all too well; the strong all think the same; it bled through in how they talked, walked, even breathed.

The only people who cared about honor were the ones that had enough time to even think about stupid shit like that; step on enough people, and you have to justify why you do it in the first place. Raiden readjusted himself, trying to get comfortable in his borrowed bedding.

Assassin and Caster remained unknown. The former wasn't there himself, sending copies out to test his opponents; he'd have to deal with him sooner rather than later. A knife in the dark was the last thing Jack wanted over his shoulder.

The latter didn't show at all; he'd need to do some digging on that; having someone entrench themselves would be a pain in his ass if he left the Servant to their devices. His breathing began to slow as his gaze slowly withdrew; Raiden leaned back, stretching the tension from his metallic body as he relaxed, closing his eyes; he'd deal with this shit in the morning.

The following day Raiden stood in the Matou family dojo, swinging his high-frequency wooden sword in practice, striking projected targets as his systems calculated his next move. The Liberian had never been a deep sleeper; years of training allowed him to function on practically nothing for long periods anyways; being a cyborg also helped.

Gripping his tool with both hands, he swung from below, slicing a horde of hypothetical enemies apart in a complete spin. He stood upright; his legs hummed as they readjusted and reoriented back upright. These workouts always helped clear his mind; the cyborg just never felt right without a weapon in his hands; they became part of who he was.

A new projection of a standard-grade cyborg appeared before him, launching up for an overhead strike. Raiden leaned to the side, dodging as if he were dancing before spinning directly behind the hologram, facing the wall as his arm lurched back. His sword impaled the projection through the back, the blade piercing its artificial heart as it dissipated into nothingness.

Glancing behind him, the cyborg caught a few of the household servants, maids, and butlers alike, watching him practice on their morning break, peaking in from a few doors across the space. Jack shrugged it off; the samurai just had that effect on some people; turning towards a new batch of enemies, he lunged into an assault.

Raiden leaned backward, his sword held diagonally across his chest as he held off three weapons at once, parrying the attack with ease as he pushed back with force. The projected cyborgs lost their balance and fell back; his eyes flashed a bright blue as he pointed his sword to the right, dropping the blade; simultaneously, his form dropped down low, his left leg jutting out as his right maintained a crouch.

His arms slammed into the ground as his legs shot out, rotating in a spin as his right talons caught his tool of war. His sword shredded through all three men in one clean slice in a devastating sweep kick, lightning arching around his form as he bisected his projected enemies. Reorienting himself, he rotated back into position before standing upright, catching his tool in his hand as he kicked it overhead.

Taking a breath, the ninja relaxed his shoulders as a new batch of enemies appeared, his body working on autopilot as he considered his circumstances. Lancer provided the most significant threat, at least for the time being; he lunged to the side, dodging a heavy underhand strike as a hologram charged from his left. He kicked off the ground, arching backward as he rolled into a mid-air somersault, completing two flips before landing in a crouch, facing his advanced mannikins.

One of those spears could completely ignore armor; Lord knows what that would do to him. The cyborg jerked his arm to the side, time flowing in slow motion as he swung from below, slicing a hologram's sword-wielding arm clean off before using the momentum to do a full leftwards facing spin blade, rounding about, slicing the figure's head off.

Raiden shrugged; he'd exercise extreme caution if they came to blows. Hopefully, someone else would handle the matter before it came down to that.

Lowering his weapon, the samurai issued a mental command, turning off the simulation for now; Kariya had given him a day off until something came up, but what could he even do with free time? When was the last time the ninja even had free time?

Raiden readjusted his suit, fixing any pieces that might have come loose during his morning routine; he looked human enough, right? The cyborg glanced at his hands, covered in artificial skin, hiding the machinery below as his sword disappeared into his inventory; eh, it would pass. He had nothing else to do; he might as well go get a coffee.

Making his way down the busy streets of Fuyuki, Jack felt an odd sense of Deja Vu; the city was bustling; vendors clamoring to sell their wares, businesses were lining the roadways, crowded with customers and tourists alike. The town was prospering; hell, he heard the 90s were a time of worldwide progress; the fall of the Soviet Empire left everyone excited for the future to come.

The possibilities seemed endless; a world without fear of utter annihilation, a time where humanity could finally move beyond killing each other for causes the people didn't believe in; where the old and bitter couldn't trick the young and stupid into killing each other.

They couldn't know just how wrong they were; in a few years, humanity would reach a new era of cybernetics and advanced ai; warfare would never be the same, peace a distant dream. Raiden frowned; he'd fought his entire life just to see the cycle of violence repeat over and over again; he still had a war to fight back home, people to protect, in his time.

As the cyborg towered over the crowds, the man noticed quite a few people staring at him; he paid no mind, being very used to looks wherever he went. The White Devil shrugged the attention off in stride, glancing at a vendor selling some fried dish or other; Raiden missed this. Economic recession in the mid-2010s brought the world to a screeching halt; the end of the war economy had hurt everyone, even countries without militaries.

His brow folded in mild frustration; that's just the problem with letting the strong dictate everything; the US economy tanking brought fucking everyone else down with them. His synthetic gaze glanced across the crowds, happy families in a bustling city, bringing a slight smile to his weary facade, memories of better days with Rose and John coming to mind. Jack continued his pace, suitcase in hand, as the ninja made his way to a nearby coffee shop; maybe this wasn't all bad.

...

A few minutes later

Artoria sighed in relief as Iris finally decided to slow down after reaching a residential area. The girl was a speed demon, and the Saber-class had to endure hours of her false Master playing rough shot with their borrowed sports car.

As the pair idled at a red light, the rightful King of England readjusted her suit; she had long adjusted to wearing male clothes, almost preferring them at times; you simply couldn't fight in a frilly dress. Saber grimaced as she checked a mirror; the wind had utterly frayed her hair; straightening it out, she couldn't help but appreciate modern amenities, cars aside; dressing anyway one wanted was the norm in this time. It made her life far more straightforward than having to disguise herself as she did during her reign.

Iris hummed in annoyance; red lights always seemed to take forever when you had somewhere to be; even though she had never left the manor before this, Kiritsugu had mentioned the strange occurrence before.

The homunculus leaned out the open window, her red eyes glazing across the bustling city. It was beautiful, colorful buildings, people smiling; the world had been everything her beloved had promised. She glanced at the car radio; only half past noon?

Iris shrugged with a smile; they had time for a stop, well, no, but she said they did, just as good in her mind. The mage's bleach-white lochs swayed in the breeze as she continued scanning the scenerybefore spotting her target.

Artoria frowned, fixing various loose ends on her black suit coat before the car suddenly lurched to a complete stop, catching her attention, "Iris?" Looking to her left from the passenger side, Iris gave a cheeky grin from the driver's side, "We'll just make a quick stop, okay?"

Saber tapped the dashboard, "Kiritsugu was clear we-" Her false Master raised a finger, "Oh hush, what he doesn't know won't hurt him; besides, don't you want to try new things?"

Iris opened the door as she spoke, hopping out of the car, fully intent on doing as she pleased. The King sighed; Iris was a force of nature she couldn't hope to control, a kid in a candy store, as the saying goes. Her flat shoes reached the paved road as she shut the passenger door, the lock clicking behind her as she caught up to her ally.

She huffed in exasperation, "Will you at least tell me where we're going?" Iris wagged a finger, smiling in excitement, "Kiritsugu told me he used to go to these cute little cafes, so I'm trying it myself!" Arturia raised an eyebrow, "Iris...do you even like coffee?" Her false Master shriveled a bit, "No..." Saber huffed, "Very well, let's get this over with."

Entering the shop, a wave of aroma hit the pair, the way only a cafe with hundreds of pounds of coffee lying about could do; intoxicating yet overbearing. Artoria scanned the shelves; in her time, the beverage was a luxury; something had on occasion, now even the rarest of things seemed commonplace; how the times change.

Her green eyes, honed to perfection to detect any threat, glanced across the customers, teenagers, young adults, the elderly; some on laptops, undoubtedly writing a book that would never sell. Others made pleasant conversation, reminiscing about this or that; these shops brought out the conversationalist even in the most introverted people.

The swordsman ignored Iris gushing about some obscure decor; even the smallest things caught her attention, like a puppy; it was cute in a way.

A cellphone tone in front of her caught the King's attention; a rough, dry voice answered, "Yeah, I hear you...went out for coffee...you want one?"

A man stood in front of her, waiting in line like the rest, clearly foreign considering he towered over the other customers, bleach blonde hair swaying as he glanced about. He wore a form-fitting black suit over his lean build, mostly concealing his pale white skin, holding a long briefcase in his right, a cellphone to his ear in his left.

The mysterious figure sighed as he turned, looking through his jacket before pulling out a notepad. Artoria noted his blue eyes, set in a stare she'd only seen from other knights on the battlefield, hardened, something impossible to replicate, only earned through a lifetime of warfare. As the figure ahead wrote on his form, she continued to stare; something seemed...off about him, exactly what the knight couldn't tell.

A finger tapped the King's shoulder, snapping Arthur from her stupor; Iris stood to her right, giving a sly grin before whispering to the knight, "My my, I didn't know you liked blondes." The knight grumbled in annoyance, shaking Iris off her in a gentle shove, "Iris, stop acting in jest; it's unseemly."

The false Master pouted, "You're no fun," crossing her arms as she took a glance at the man ahead of them, giving the barista his order. The girl at the counter seemed to like what she saw; the cashier couldn't even look at the guy without stuttering. The albino leaned over, "So, what's so interesting about him then?"

Jack silently fumed in thought, oh shit...ohhhh shit...What should he do in this situation? The cyborg had heard a familiar voice from behind, airing on the side of caution; the man had faked a phone call to himself; his internal systems calling a burner phone he luckily had on hand.

Using the artificially crafted opportunity, the ninja pretended to shuffle around his jacket, searching for pen and paper, taking a literal split second to glance behind himself. There stood Saber alongside her Master, neither aware that an enemy was directly ahead; the duo gazed across the shop's various decorations and foodstuffs.

The mercenary turned forward, writing an imagined order that Kariya would have to take or leave; the guy could probably use a few espresso shots now that the Liberian thought about it. Raiden hastily scribbled along with the paper, humming and giving simple responses to himself over the phone, his mind running rapidly.

Fighting wasn't an option, not possible either, too many witnesses. That would break one of the supposed rules the Matou's had grilled him about on day one.

Jack clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, his blue eyes narrowed, acting was never a strong suit for him, but he seemed to pull it off well enough. The veteran lightly sighed, sounding as though he had a long day so early in the morning before clicking his phone off; okay, things had started poorly; day one of the War Assassin somehow spotted him. Day two? Out of every fucking coffee shop in the entire city, the man somehow ran into another Servant; years of training honed him for unexpected twists in the heat of battle, but this was just frustrating.

Raiden took a slow breath, steadying himself; Okay, game plan? Act calm and walk away, forget this encounter ever happened, go about his day, fight them later when circumstances arise.

The elderly couple ahead of him in line finally walked away, their order in hand; keeping his cool, the mercenary walked up, saying his order as he checked his phone, sending fake text messages to the device to seem busy.

Screw it, might as well throw in some of those cake stick things John couldn't get enough of; his son had a massive sweet tooth; hopefully, Kariya's niece liked sweets.

"Um-e-excuse me, can I have your name...for...for the order" Raiden glanced up from his phone, catching the cashier's stare. The girl lightly played with her uniform, fiddling, unable to keep eye contact with him, black hair swaying from side to side.

The cyborg shrugged; it must have been the poor girl's first day on the job; "Jack." Giving the man a nod, the barista stumbled to work, leaving the ninja to his ruminations.

Saber watched the man ahead of her in perplexion; the knight trusted her honed instincts beyond measure, yet...what exactly did she see in..."Jack?" The King had caught the name as the businessman briefly spoke with the girl across the counter, certainly a foreigner with that name in the midst of Japan.

Glancing over at Iris, the flowery girl gave her knight a wink, pointing at the man ahead, mouthing the words, "talk to him." Artoria shook her head in exasperation; for all her good intentions, Iris watched far too much romance for her own good.

The knight couldn't blame the albino girl; her father had an iron grip, locking the poor girl in place; the King could empathize with such a feeling, ruling a kingdom required great sacrifice on many levels; your own interests became secondary when a nation rested on your decisions. If the cheery wife wanted to spend her time watching such entertainment, she wouldn't partake, but the King would never judge; she was fair after all.

Artoria continued her study, green eyes pouring over every detail, uncertain of why she felt so unsure about the man ahead. He seemed perfectly fine, albeit out of place; a tall European in Japan tended to do that.

The knight watched as the businessman pulled slowly reached into his jacket, pulling out a stack of bills before paying for his order, leaving a generous tip for the crew. Taking the side of caution, the King decided to quietly continue her observations.

Soon enough, the poor girl behind the counter finished Jack's order; the man gazed down, spotting her name tag, lightly grabbing his goods, "Thanks...Akari". The man turned to leave as the sputtering cashier raised a hand, "U-um" The blonde turned, "Forget something?"

The girl didn't respond, her face red, facing the counter as she held out his receipt. Raiden shrugged as he took the parchment, giving the lady a reaffirming smile; new jobs always sucked; the cyborg knew that struggle all too well; trying to find work that didn't involve killing after settling down with Rose...didn't end well, but he tried.

The false Master and Servant watched as the businessman left the store, taking a right towards a local park before disappearing from sight away from the wide windows along the front of the cafe. Saber ignored Iris's order as the knight stared in the man's direction; a few moments passed before she shrugged; "Jack" was long gone; the King released an unknown tension as she lowered her shoulders; Artoria would let the matter drop for the time being.

Within a few minutes, she and Iris were on their way out, exiting the shop; however, instead of taking a left towards their parked car, the heiress veered right. Arthur paused, still gripping the door, "Iris, where do you think you're going?" The albino sheepishly grinned, red eyes flashing in determination, "I wanna see what got you so excited about 'Mr. Jack.'"

The King sighed in exhaustion; Kiritsugu's wife was a handful; she gained some respect for the man, finding the will to handle this much energy on a daily basis. Heavens help the two if their daughter ended up the same. The blonde squeezed between her eyes in annoyance, "You truly won't let this go, will you?"

Iris slowly walked away, cheerily spouting, "Nope." With a sigh and a slight smile, Artoria strode behind her friend, "You know you'll never find him, right?" Grabbing Saber's hand, the pale girl took off, dragging her knight along for the ride, smiling as they dodged and weaved through the crowds, "Not with that attitude!"

...

Jack sighed in relief as he made his way through a local park, passing by hordes of tourists and exasperated parents watching their kids. The soldier thanked God that John was a calm kid, book smart, like his mom; it made raising the boy a lot easier.

The disguised machine paused as he found a quiet section of the trail, seeming more like a small forest than an activity area for the community. The man was far enough away to assume they didn't follow him; his sensors didn't pick anything up, at least, besides...Raiden gazed around his surroundings; trees, flowers, and small, largely absent or dormant, awaiting the sunlight once again, most animals doing the same; the park seemed all too calm, peacefully quiet; you don't get many moments like this, especially in his line of work.

The ninja soon spotted a metal bench, lightly sighing in relief as the frame didn't creak under his weight for once. The veteran glanced upwards, the sun shining through the uncovered trees; their leaves had long since fallen and decayed, giving nutrients for the next generation.

Jack shrugged, resting his goods on the ground in front of him, digging through the contents for his prized coffee, black with four shots of espresso, the way the Lord intended.

The cyborg slowly took a sip, the warm brew sliding through his artificial lips, warming his form. Raiden smiled; he always took moments like this to appreciate the peace, the world he and so many others risked life and limb to save, over and over. A couple walked by, their dog sniffing at his bags before getting dragged off by its leash.

The cool winter breeze danced through the park, a light whistle flowing alongside. His faint smile retreated as the samurai leaned back in his seat; the man always found a way to get sentimental about things; maybe Rose was right when she jokingly called him an old man.

Times like this reminded Jack of the last time he ever spoke to Snake; no...David, their farewells, the last bits of wisdom his idol ever gave the weary veteran.

Raiden remembered the day so vividly; a memory burned into his mind for the rest of his life. On a warm summer day in 2015, sitting in Central Park, Snake had called him off a job for an unknown reason; the cyborg found the time; he owed the man that much.

Sitting on one of the many benches scattered around the iconic site, he gazed on as people of all sorts passed by, none the wiser of the killing machine nearby. Times like this felt peaceful, reminded Jack that he was still human in his heart; he could be just another man in the crowd, not the monster many wanted him to be. It took a lot of effort, but Rose and John had pulled him out of his stupor and slowly but surely brought him back to reality.

A family passed by; the father held his daughter's hand as the girl demanded some frozen treat from a nearby vendor; He smiled in thought; Raiden never expected to be a father. Rose had kept it from him for a good reason, but he found the strength to forgive her.

The cyborg knew he wasn't mentally ready for fatherhood at the time; memories of his past always plagued his mind; they made his relationship with Rose rocky at best sometimes. Raiden knew that they wouldn't ever truly disappear, but with help, the warrior could put down his weapons; find peace with his loved ones.

The now-retired mercenary twisted a bottle open, taking a cool sip of water as the sun shined overhead. Parenthood does that to you; it doesn't matter what life had in store beforehand; he chuckled at the thought; no, you drop everything; that child is your life now.

Jack would never regret coming back to his family; the ninja loved them more than anything else; John brought light back into his life, a way out, a reminder that he could bring good into this world, not just devastation.

Raiden paused, his phone vibrating in his jacket as he pulled the device out, tapping the touch screen with his synthetic fingertips. Rose had sent him a text, a file labeled test results, a line underneath saying, "we need to talk, Jack.".

The cyborg hesitated, anxious to click the icon. She had gotten sick these last few months, spills where his wife couldn't find the strength to get out of bed at times. After weeks of pressuring her, he had convinced Rose to get some tests done; his finger shook; Raiden was scared, afraid of what he might see. War changes people; you see the worst the world has to offer, the things humans are capable of; it couldn't compare to seeing your loved ones suffer; Jack couldn't take much more, the man was unwell, but he kept it together for his family.

Raiden took a hesitant breath, finding the will to check to read the file, to know for sure; someone took a seat next to him, cutting off his thoughts, the old wooden bench creaking in response. "Kept you waiting, huh?"

Jack glanced to the side; there sat Snake; despite his condition, the man looked well, wearing a casual black suit, supporting himself with a walking cane, leaning on the instrument as he sat.

The man's brown hair had long ago faded to an aged white, the scars along his face contrasting with his pale, once tanned skin. Despite only being forty-two, the man seemed almost eighty; his creators designed him to live a short life.

Jack had a deep respect for the man on many levels, but his choice to live the life he had been given without regret inspired him; it gave the cyborg hope that he could find the same happiness. Raiden chuckled, "Still got it, Snake, couldn't even hear you coming."

The unknown hero glanced over, looking at the man he and so many others had caused such immense suffering for, "It's just David now; those days are over...It's...good to see you, Raiden."

The cyborg slowly clasped his hands together, holding them in thought, "Never thought I'd see you again; how...how have things been?" The withered man slowly looked across the park, smiling at the tranquil setting, the world they just barely managed to save, "Never thought I'd find peace; it just never seemed possible for men like us...it took a while to adjust, but, I wouldn't give it up for anything."

Jack nodded in agreement, the two sitting in amicable silence as David pulled out a pack of cigarettes, taking one and lighting it up the way only a lifelong smoker could. The former Foxhound member held out the box towards his friend; Jack hadn't smoked in years but seeing Snake today gave him the impression this would be their last time together; he knew better than anyone just how little time the man had left.

Slowly the retired warrior reached out, putting the cancer stick in his mouth as David lit it for him, lighter always on hand somewhere. Raiden slowly inhaled before gently releasing a grey stream into the sky, the ash dissipating soon after. The man sighed in contentment, that familiar sting hitting him like a truck after so many years of going cold turkey, "You pick a shit brand; what are these from the army?"

The man chuckled, "Stick with what you love, kid; never forget that." Raiden looked down, smiling in silent agreement; Snake took a slow puff before glancing back over, "How're things with your family?"

The cyborg slowly rubbed his chin in thought, "Good...It took a while, but...we made things work; I wanted to thank you...for what you said back on the ship...it...meant a lot." Snake lightly smiled, "It doesn't matter who or what you are; what matters is where you go from here...I may be a clone, and you may be a machine, but we're still human, Jack."

His cybernetic eyes stared on, absorbing every word; Snake was always a role model for him; the kind of man Raiden always wanted to be; the man was family to him, like a father he never had. "Yeah...So, why did you want to meet so suddenly?"

David took a breath, his hands lightly shaking as he held his cane in his left, his cigarette in his right; "I don't have much time left...I wanted to clear the air, make things right before I go."

The samurai shook his head, "you don't owe me anything...I" Snake raised a hand, "Just...listen...Jack, we made your life a living hell; that's something I can't make up for, but...I want to try, help you keep on the right way...even after I'm gone."

The cyborg looked in confusion; he thought things were fine; what was he missing? Snake cleared his throat, "You rely on others; that's not a bad thing...but what will you do if you lose them too?" The ninja couldn't fathom it; the man loved his family, his circle was small, but that was all he needed. "I...I don't know...where's this coming from?"

David took a breath; the man in front of him had lost so much, endured more than any human should ever handle; these talks were never easy. "Rose wanted me to talk to you...it's about her health, Jack...she sent you something, right?"

Raiden's eyes widened briefly, glancing down at the phone still in his hands; Snake nodded, "Open it." The ninja looked up at the man; David firmly gazed at him, giving the cyborg another nod. Taking a breath, the Liberian tapped the icon and opened the folder, scanning it over.

The clone grimly nodded as his friend's hands began to shake, his eyes clouding over as he scrolled down, slowly absorbing the information. He put a hand on Raiden's shoulder, "She knew you wouldn't listen to anyone but me; you're too stubborn for your own good sometimes, kid."

Jack continued to stare at the results; this can't be happening; his lip quivered, "I...I don't..." incapable of finding the words to speak. Snake grimaced, but he had to be there for the only person the man truly considered family, "I know it's a lot to process, but...you need to be ready...for what's to come."

...

"Hello!"

Raiden's eyes shot open from their stupor, his blues meeting a pair of red a few feet in front of him. There stood the same Master, Servant duo as before; Saber hanging back as the albino stood ahead.

He instantly took in their appearance, his mind lighting up the way only a man with several processers embedded in his brain could. The pale one with silver hair wore a frilly white coat, black buttons lining the piece; her head covered in an equally unpigmented fur cap, completing the ensemble with a long pair of bleached boots, reaching up to her thigh.

No weapons so far; why are they here? Christ, he needed to stop spacing out like this; it would get him killed at this rate.

Saber stood a few feet back, gazing at the barren wilderness, green eyes contrasting with the dull winter landscape as her short blonde hair shifted as she exhaled a visible breath.

The Servant wore a full-piece suit, similar to his own, nothing fancy like the Master still standing in front of him. It only made sense; you can't fight in clothes that restrict movement; that's why Doktor designed Raiden's suit himself. Compacted nanofibers are defensive and easy to disguise as regular clothes while remaining extremely flexible with no easy means of tearing.

His blue gaze caught her left-hand twitching, still wounded from last night? Saber's right held close to her side, her palm open but in a position to grip something within moments. The cyborg slowly shifted his suitcase, gripping its handle in his right.

He internally grimaced; so this is how it's gonna go? A fight in the park? The cyborg slowly gripped his suitcase tighter, readying a preemptive strike. If he cut down the Master, Saber would disappear; it would be quick and easy; the mercenary glanced from side to side, with no witnesses.

Looking back up, the pale woman in front of him seemed concerned, "You okay?" Raiden stared a brief moment, almost perplexed, weren't they here to kill him? He faked a smile, gently rubbing his head as he let go of his suitcase. The man shrugged, "Yeah...sorry...just lost in thought." The girl smiled, "Long day at work?" as she glanced at the suitcase sitting by his side.

Raiden had no clue what was happening. Did they seriously not know, or were they fucking with him? The blonde Servant seemed more aloof, standing further back, watching both him and the surrounding scenery, cautious but not threatened; he needed to stop zoning out; it always got him into these situations.

The well-dressed man gave a slight sigh, "You can say that again, but what could I expect coming to Japan of all places for work."

The woman giggled at his off-color joke, pointing to herself and the Servant behind her, "I'm Iris, and that's...um," Saber cut the woman off, "Artoria...Iris, I don't need you to speak on my behalf."

The Liberian nodded, "Jack...weren't you two in the cafe earlier?" Iris's red eyes glanced at the man, watching his bleach blonde lochs sway in the breeze as his blue eyes gazed back, "My friend thought you were..." Getting a slight smack on the back on the back of her head. She huffed, clearing her throat, "Ehm... mind if we sit with you?"

Raiden sighed as he readjusted his goods, moving his suitcase to his lap; "Go ahead," as the pair took a seat on opposite sides of him. God, this entire day seemed asinine; Why not talk with the fucking enemy, right? He did that enough already with Desperado; he might as well add more to that list.

Iris hummed as she drank what had to be the woman's fifth sugary drink that day, some strawberry smoothie or other, "Mm, so, you said you're here on business?"

Raiden sat rigidly, still staring at his coffee as he swirled the drink in his hands in thought, "Yeah, I travel around a lot for work, been all over, really."

Saber watched in silence as Iris strongarmed the quiet man into a conversation; she had a way of doing that; whether it was magic or not, she honestly couldn't tell. "Have you ever visited England?"

The man nodded, "That where you're from?" Noticing their mildly surprised expressions, Jack continued, "I can tell from the accent; but, yeah, few times when I was on duty."

The comment caught Artoria's attention, so she was right about him; "Who did you serve?" The cyborg gave the King a weird look at the wording, "I'm from Liberia, but the U.S military takes anyone these days."

Jack lightly smiled as old memories came to mind, "Met my wife in New York; after that, all over the world, served in Kenya, a few tours in Europe, even spent some time in Pakistan."

Iris shot up, "But...didn't that girl at the shop give you her phone number?" The ninja looked at her in absolute confusion before it suddenly dawned on him. Pulling out the receipt, he glanced over the form; sure enough, at the top was a number with a heart next to it. The man sighed before crumbling the paper and throwing it to the ground; that sort of thing happened too often for his liking. "How'd you spot that? I didn't even notice."

The pale woman seemed sheepish, not wanting to answer before Artoria got her revenge, "Don't mind her; poor girl spends too much time with romance on the mind." Jack grimly nodded, "Is that so..." for all his respect for Snake; the man was perpetually out to get any strange he could find; the cyborg had dealt with enough texts and even phone calls asking him to pick up foreign pornos for a lifetime.

Iris broke into angry sputters, trying to salvage her reputation as the King of England nodded in satisfaction. She was fair, but that meant fairness in all aspects, even retribution. Taking the lead as her companion fell to muttering in embarrassment, Saber looked at the man as he took another sip of his beverage, previous doubts slowly dwindling. "You mentioned your wife?"

Raiden smiled at the thought, "Right, my wife Rose and I met in New York, arguing over King Kong of all things." He slowly reached into his suit jacket, pulling out an old photo from a pocket just above his heart, a picture of the two the day they moved in together. A photo of him giving his wife a piggyback ride, her brown hair falling over his head, both overjoyed at the new step in their relationship.

"Funny story, we got into such a big argument she dragged me to the SkyScraper Museum to prove it was the Chrysler building he climbed on; the place was closed, so she stormed off; a few days later, it turned out we were stationed at the same base. We've pretty much been together ever since; she has this way of making you do anything she wants, even dragging my sorry ass across New York to settle an argument."

Iris sweetly smiled, "My husband is the same way, his way or the highway, but he always finds some way to include us." as she glanced at Saber. Raiden shrugged, "Sounds like a smart guy."

She tilted her head, "How so?" He lightly laughed, "That's half the job of being a husband; you're either making your wife happy or your kids happy." The excited mom scooted a bit closer, "Oh, do you have kids?"

Raiden hummed as he pulled out another photo from the same pocket; a picture of him and John at the park, just after his operation to look more...human. A photo of Jack pushing his son on the swings as the boy talked about his day, he would never admit to almost launching John into the stratosphere after pushing too hard; Rose would have killed him.

Raiden paid a heavy fine in "gifts" to buy his kid's silence that day, ruthless and cunning like his old man; he was so proud. "Just my son, John."

The wife gushed as she pulled a photo of her own, a picture of her alongside a little girl that looked more like a clone of the albino than anything. "Tadah! My pride and joy, Illyas; we need a playdate, now!" The cyborg chuckled; these were his enemies? They seemed so...human; where were the crooked souls, the people he needed to stop?

Jack hummed in thought, ignoring her demand, staring out at the wild as a rabbit tried to find food among the remaining shrubs around the park, "It's funny, you never expect to be a parent; you suddenly just get another person in your life."

He lightly stretched his back, slightly less on edge than a few moments ago, "But...that's how it goes; John's actually staying with a few friends in New Zealand, so I don't see him much, but I'd do anything for the kid; seeing him smile makes all this worth it." Saber silently winced at the comment; thinking about her own daughter always hurt.

Iris nodded in silent agreement; having a family changed her life for the better; she had found a loving husband and had a daughter she'd sacrifice anything for; she soon would; world peace came at a massive price; she shook the negative thoughts from her mind, choosing to live in the moment. "Where's your wife in all this? With your son?"

Jack's gaze slowly softened, looking down at his hands as he took a breath, his small smile present yet pained, "No...Rose passed a few years back; it's just me and John these days."

Both women glanced over at the man; Saber peeked at Iris, seeing the girl getting a bit emotional, likely considering her own circumstances. deciding to take the lead, the King leaned forward in her seat, "May I ask, what happened?"

Raiden looked towards the sky, dark clouds beginning to roll in, "Brain cancer; inoperable; came and went so soon I almost couldn't believe it. Like one minute she's there, the next...gone." Iris gloomily looked at her lap; a child denied their mother so soon, much like her own family.

The homunculus tightened her hands, emotions beginning to run high, her eyes burning as she thought of never seeing her beloved daughter again, "How do you go on...without her?"

Jack slowly slid the photos back into his pocket, tapping his heart as he did so, "You just...live, one day at a time, trying to do what you think is right." He slowly ran a hand over Murasama's case, "You need to find something you believe in, a cause you can fight your own war over."

He looked up, his eyes regaining their passion, "I can't tell someone else what they should believe in; it's something you have to find yourself. But, when you find that reason to live, that reason to go through the pain, the loneliness, the despair, you grab it; and fight with everything you have for what you think is right."

Artoria's eyes widened a bit, looking up at the man, clasping her palms together, "Even if others think may it's...wrong?" Jack turned, meeting the woman's fierce gaze, "Right and wrong are subjective; to some, I'm a hero, a man that fought for his country, but what about my enemies?" Arthur looked confused, "Your enemies?"

He nodded, "To them, I'm a terrorist, the man that came and took everything from them, but...who's right in all this?"

The veteran paused, considering his words, looking out towards the sky, "...something I learned in life, everyone has a different opinion of the same thing, so you shouldn't give a damn what anyone else thinks, fight for what you think is right, nothing else matters."

The knight paused, pondering what the man said...she couldn't refute it.

Things seemed to click together as King Arthur mulled over the man's words; he seemed so confident, so deadset on whatever path he chose. The knight...wanted to know more. "What do you fight for, Jack?" The disguised cyborg smirked, "I-" RING RING.

Raiden sighed as he pulled out his phone, the real Kariya calling him, "Sorry, I gotta take this, it's...my boss." Iris all but flipped out off the bench as she glanced at her watch, "oh boy."

Saber huffed, "How late?" The albino shuddered, "...an hour." The Servant sighed, pitying her false Master for what would undoubtedly turn into an hour-long lecture from her husband.

The knight glanced over her shoulder at the businessman, "I apologize for leaving so suddenly; your wisdom has been...helpful; you have my thanks." Iris gave the man a small wave before taking off after her ally.

Jack watched the pair slowly going off on their own. Honestly, that wasn't what the man had expected today. But...he felt...better, like talking about his story with someone eased his aching heart. The cyborg sighed, knowing this was likely the last positive interaction he would have until the War came to an end, with one victor left standing.

The wind brushed his hair as he collected his goods, the pair just about to turn a corner as he stood upright. Raiden turned, facing the opposite direction; he'd call Kariya back in a minute. "That talk helped me more than you'd think, so...thanks."

Artoria gently smiled as she continued her stroll; "Perhaps we'll meet again someday." The cyborg collected his goods, slowly making his way out of the park as the pair almost disappeared around a corner; he shook his head as reality set back in, "We'll see." The warrior knew he would have to kill them both.

His gaze narrowed, he held a thumb over his suitcase, one click, and it would open; he'd slice them apart before they knew what hit them. Seconds seemed to pass like hours; it would be so simple, they'd be easy prey; Saber was wounded, couldn't fight back; Raiden's grin grew in anticipation.

The cyborg caught himself, pausing before shaking his head in denial; what was he thinking? Raiden was a killer, not a butcher; the man would never kill an unarmed person; he still had standards.

As the pair finally disappeared from sight, Jack took off at his own slow pace, making his way back to the Matou residence; the Liberian had a lot on his mind; Christ, maybe Jack was getting in his head...

So, that was chapter 1; I'll try to upload as much as possible, but keep in mind I'm doing a thesis as I'm writing this, so bear with me. I wanted that last conversation to last longer, but we were already hitting 20k words, and I'm not one for dragging things out; next chapter, you'll get an entire encounter/boss fight.

I hope I established the kind of person Raiden is throughout this story, I'm aiming to stay under 150k words in total, but we'll see how that goes, take it easy, and I'll see y'all in the next chapter.