The Magus Association's temporary field office was a rented floor in a half-empty office tower, its windows blacked out and its wards humming faintly.
Adrian Voss, Rider's Master, stood before a table scattered with maps and photographs. Tall, silver-haired, and dressed in a charcoal coat, he had the air of a man who measured his words as carefully as his mana output.
Across from him, two Association envoys — one a lean woman with steel-grey eyes, the other a bespectacled man with a perpetual frown — listened as he laid out the latest findings.
"The killings follow a pattern," Voss said, tapping a map. "Clusters near leyline junctions. Victims are drained of blood and mana. No magical residue, no witnesses."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "You're suggesting…?"
"I'm stating," Voss replied evenly, "that Assassin is a vampire. Not a metaphorical one. A true predator. And if the reports are accurate, he's turned his Master into a thrall."
The man frowned deeper. "That would explain the autonomy. And the Association would be… interested in acquiring such a specimen."
Voss's expression didn't change. "Specimen or not, he's destabilizing the War. The truce between the other Masters is already brittle. If he keeps feeding, it will shatter."
The woman leaned back. "Then perhaps it's in our interest to let them bleed each other dry."
Voss's gaze was cold. "Perhaps. But I didn't summon Rider to watch from the sidelines."
Patrol Assignments
By nightfall, the alliance had split into mixed patrols:
Team One: Shirou and Rin, with Medea scrying from the temple.Team Two: Saber and Archer, covering the riverfront.Team Three: Rider and Voss, sweeping the industrial district.Kotomine and Lancer remained at the church, "coordinating" — which everyone knew meant watching.Shirou & Rin
The streets of Miyama were quiet, frost crunching underfoot. Rin walked beside Shirou, her hands in her coat pockets.
"It's strange," she said finally. "Walking like this again."
Shirou glanced at her. "Like old times?"
"Not exactly," she said. "Back then, I didn't have to wonder if you'd level a city block."
He sighed. "You think I wanted that?"
"I think you decided the ends justified the means," she said. "And I think that's not the Shirou I knew."
He didn't answer right away. "People died because I hesitated once. I'm not making that mistake again."
She looked at him sidelong. "And if that means becoming the villain in everyone's story?"
He gave a faint smile. "Then I'll play the part."
Saber & Shirou
Earlier that evening, before the patrols split, Saber had found Shirou alone in the temple courtyard, checking the straps on his coat.
"This name they give you," she said. "The Steel-Eyed Raven. What does it mean?"
He looked up, surprised. "You've heard it?"
"It's hard not to. Even in this short time, I've seen the way others react to you. Fear. Awe. Distrust."
"It's… a mask," he said after a moment. "Something I built to keep people guessing. To make them hesitate."
Her gaze was steady. "Masks can protect. They can also trap."
He didn't reply. But her words followed him into the night.
Saber & Archer
The riverfront was still, the water black under the moonlight. Saber walked with measured steps, her senses alert. Archer followed, bow in hand.
"You move the same," Archer said suddenly.
She glanced back. "The same as what?"
"As someone I once knew," he said. "A king who carried the weight of a nation and never let it bend her spine."
She studied him. "And what became of her?"
He looked away. "She fought until the end. And beyond it."
There was a pause.
"You speak as if you admired her," she said.
"I did," he replied. "And I failed her."
Saber didn't press. But something in his tone lingered.
Just after midnight, Shirou and Rin turned a corner into a narrow lane — and found a JSDF patrol slumped against the wall. Four men. All dead. No wounds. No blood.
Rin knelt, scanning for magical residue. "Nothing. He's masking it."
Shirou's eyes swept the rooftops. "He's here."
Fog rolled in fast, swallowing the street. A shadow moved above them — too fast to track. A whisper of cloth, the glint of red eyes.
"Move!" Shirou shoved Rin aside as a figure dropped between them, blades flashing. The impact cracked the pavement.
Dracula.
Tall, pale, armored in black ridges. His smile was cold, his eyes bright with hunger. Behind him, the thrall stood motionless, eyes glowing faintly.
Rin's dagger flared with stored mana. "Assassin—"
Dracula moved.
Shirou caught the first strike, projecting a curved blade to match the angle. The force rattled his bones. Rin loosed a jewel, the explosion lighting the fog — but Dracula was already gone, reappearing behind her.
Shirou reinforced his legs, crossing the distance in a heartbeat. His blade met Dracula's again, sparks hissing in the mist.
"You're not the one I want," Dracula said, voice smooth and accented. "But you'll do."
Saber and Archer arrived first, the clash of steel drawing them in. Saber's invisible blade cut through the fog, forcing Dracula back. Archer's arrows hissed past her shoulder, each aimed for the heart.
Dracula laughed. "Better."
He blurred forward, forcing Saber into a tight exchange. Archer shifted position, firing to cover her flanks. Shirou moved to intercept the thrall, but the man fought with inhuman speed, his strikes mechanical and relentless.
Rin's voice cut through the chaos. "We can't kill him here — too many civilians nearby!"
Dracula seemed to hear her. His smile widened. "Then I'll come to you."
And just like that, he was gone — the fog collapsing into empty air.
The patrol regrouped in an abandoned shop. Medea arrived moments later, her expression tight.
"He's feeding," she said. "Not just on blood. On mana. Every kill makes him faster."
Rin wiped blood from her cheek. "We need to cut him off from the leylines."
"Agreed," Medea said. "I'll start mapping his feeding pattern."
Shirou met her eyes. "We'll find him."
Her hand brushed his as she passed him a mana draught. "Don't get yourself killed before I decide I'm done with you."
Elsewhere
From the rooftop of a high-rise, Gilgamesh watched the fog dissipate. His crimson eyes gleamed, but his smile was one of genuine amusement.
"So this is the Steel-Eyed Raven," he murmured. "A mongrel who has learned to unmake the order of things simply by existing. The weak scurry, the strong hesitate, and the world tilts on its axis."
He leaned on the railing, gaze sweeping the city. "It is rare to see a man become a calamity without touching the Grail. Rarer still to see him wear the role as if it were a crown."
His smile sharpened. "Let the leech glut himself. Let the Raven draw every eye. When the board is chaos and the pieces scattered, the only true king will remain."
The city woke to another headline: STEEL-EYED RAVEN STRIKES AGAIN — FOUR DEAD IN MIYAMA
Shirou read it over breakfast, the paper crumpling in his hand. The words from Saber's earlier question — Masks can protect. They can also trap — echoed in his mind.
His jaw tightened. "They want a monster," he said quietly. "I'll give them one. But not the one they think."
Medea watched him from across the table, her gaze unreadable. "Then let's make sure the right monster wins."
Outside, the wind carried the scent of the river. Somewhere in the fog, Dracula was smiling.