Fate/stay night: Champions Route
By: Farmer Kyle
A/N: This has been in the works for a couple months now and after reading kyugan's latest Crossover Corner I decided to do a trailer of my own. I probably won't start really working on this for another month or so, as I'm still developing some characters. Oh and a plot, can't forget the plot. Well, a more interesting one than what I have right now anyway. Lets just see if you can guess my Champions.
Prologus: The Start Of A New Old War
"Did you really think you could destroy me again, Arturia Pendragon?"
Everything they had done was leading to this. Every plan. Every choice. Every battle. It had all lead up to this. With one swing of a sword that promised victory they should have won, gone home to celebrate that they had saved the world.
"And with the same attack?"
But that didn't happen. Saber swung down her holy blade, calling out the name of it as she did, and light poured out surging for the target she wished destroyed, shining like a second sun. The light met its target and pierced it and then the Grail reacted.
Tendrils surrounded the light, grasping it. The light dimmed and dimmed, became more solid as the tendrils held it, until it was as black as the Grail itself. What had once been holy, cleansing light oozed into the wound it made and joined the putrid mass that was the Grail.
Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory, the Last Phantasm, the Crystallized Hope of Humanity had failed.
"You poor, naive child. You overestimate yourself and that sword."
All was lost.
"You should repent for this transgression."
Everything they had done had been in vain. They had failed, and all of existence would suffer for it.
"But I will grant mercy for this slight and the last, for you have given me a bountiful offering."
"With it we shall return to the beginning, and from there I shall spread the joy of Heaven's Feel."
"Let us begin again and anew!"
And even though they would get a second chance, they still failed. For that is the will of the Grail, to grant destruction as a means to fulfill a wish.
Tomorrow ceased to exist.
Lives not yet lived and those not yet born ended.
So as the clock was turned, the future died.
And so the tale of Servants and Magi changed, and the fighting began again.
But a story once written will always stay the same if left alone.
Be wary Servants, for a new path has opened.
A man with dreadlocks capped with a tricorne hat and wearing a brown coat is running down a dock, occasionally turning back and firing his pistol at his pursuer, a woman. She was a beauty with long purple hair and a figure barely concealed by her leather dress, though it didn't distract long from her odd blindfold and the two wicked and deadly nails she was hurling at the man, pulling them back by the chain that connected them. The man reached the end of the dock and looked for an escape, finding none, before turning fully around to face the deadly woman, a smile on her face. The smile faded when the man smiles back and aims his pistol at her, the broadside of a charred ship appearing from thin air behind him with cannons ready to fire.
Watching all this through the scope of his rifle was another man of shaggy black hair and dressed in black. As he moves to change targets he leaps from the edge of the roof, black daggers where his vitals had been. Dismissing the rifle he unholsters an antique pistol, searching for his attacker, before rolling to the side to avoid more daggers. He turns to a part of the roof shadowed by air-conditioning units and finds his attacker, also in black save for a stark white mask in the shape of a skull. They stare off until the skull-faced man leaps for his opponent, daggers thrown ahead of him. The shaggy man side steps the daggers and fires a round, but misses when the other dodges. But just as the knife user settles to charge his target again, the man glows then runs at him faster than he can follow. Before he can move the muzzle of a pistol rests on the back of his head, the man in the black coat behind him.
In a park further in the city a man of white hair and red coat fights a giant with nothing but a pair of white and black swords. Wrapped in red and white armor, the giant was on all fours ready to pounce and glaring at the man with madness in its green eyes. A powerful roar erupts from the giant before it takes off, leaping and weaving around swords trying to impale it with whatever not dodged blocked by a hexagonal shield of light. With one last leap the giant was nearly on top of the man in red, the man only holding out a now empty hand to the armored monster. A flash; a shield of seven violet petals of light now stood between him and the beast. The crazed monster lands on the shield, sliding on it before gaining an unseen purchase, before rearing an arm back. With hand splayed out like a claw and a savage roar it swings, the shield shattering like glass.
At Ryudou Temple a man in purple samurai garb is launched in to the courtyard by a wind with force rivaling a hurricane as a woman covered in a shroud comes out of the main building. Walking at a sedate pace past the gate opposite of the two is an armored figure without any discernible features other then a cape and a rapier held in the figure's hand. The samurai has gotten up, drawn his sword and charges the intruder, only to be met with a beast with a dragon's wings and scorpion's tail. He leaps away while the beast follows, clearing the way for the last two combatants. Skeletal warriors rise up from the ground and charge the armored figure, only for the figure to raise its rapier and reveal it to be blunted. The lone warrior chants and the rapier glows as it conjures winds of hurricane force, blowing all but the woman away. Before the woman can prepare a retaliatory strike she brings up a barrier, just as a spear of twisting wind grinds against it.
In the forest on the outskirts of the city a man in purple armor weaves around the strikes of a bronze titan. The titan roars in outrage as it swings a rock fashioned into a weapon, enraged that the man with the helm of a dragon was not dead. The man leaps back from the titan, landing in a crouch, before leaping again, far past the trees of the forest. The titan roars again in outrage as he tries to find his opponent and can do nothing as a spear with wicked barbs and wreathed in lightning pierces the titan's chest and explodes, smoke filling the clearing they were in. Up in the sky the man floats as he reaches out to the side, his spear re-materializing in his hand. The man begins to fall before kicking his legs out as if to jump, suddenly skyrocketing for the ground where his enemy was. He hears the titan roar in challenge as he swings his club, clearing the smoke, and he holds out his spear to meet him.
A woman in green swings her pure white war-hammer at a man in blue, who blocks the strike with an bloodily crimson spear. The woman jumps back to create space while the spear-man follows. She holds out her free, gloved hand, a jewel on the back glowing a fiery red before a head sized fireball was launched from her palm heading for the man's head. The man jumps out of the way but keeps his momentum and was now falling toward the woman spear first, eager to meet her hammer again. But the woman no longer held a hammer in her hands but a pistol in each aimed right at him, one black as the night with a large muzzle and the other red as blood and inlaid with gold. She fires, landing several hits before the powerful shots stop the man, falling to the ground with new bloody holes littering his body. She walks up to the struggling man as he tries to get up and continue the fight, using his spear as a crutch, and aimed her pistols at his head. Just as she is about to fire she has to dodge a variety of swords and spears, all of them somehow missing the other injured man. She looks around until she finds a red-eyed man in golden armor standing above them on a church, an arrogant smirk on his face as weapons appear behind him from what could have been the sun. The woman trains her black pistol on to golden man while keeping the other on the now up spear-man, a smirk on his face as he readied himself. All the woman does is smile as she pulls the triggers.
On a bridge over the the river that bisected a city, a boy in black rags crosses blades with a girl dressed in armor and blue. Black katana clashes with an unseen sword wrapped in whirling winds, neither warrior backing down or letting up their attacks. But the boy makes a mistake and just barely survives it by blocking with his gauntlet covered hand, grasping the invisible blade for a moment before blurring out of existence and reappearing behind the girl already swinging his sword. The girl nearly loses her footing but manages to adjust herself fast enough to turn around and block. The earlier pattern of attacking, dodging and blocking resumed, the boy appearing behind the girl every now and again, until the boy reappeared outside the range of the girl. He draws his sword back as if to swing, a black energy edged in red gathering and rolling along the blade. The girl copies this motion, a whirlwind unfurling around her as a golden sword that shines like the sun appears in her hands. Light and darkness grow over the opposing blades until both opponents swing down their weapons, each crying out a name.
"Welcome Champions, to the Holy Grail War."