The Vimana descended in silence, its golden frame humming as it touched down against the barren soil. Dust rippled outward from the ship, disturbed by the sudden force, before hanging heavy in the air.
The shimmer of wards spread faintly across the horizon, cloaking the battlefield in a veil of magic that ordinary eyes would never notice.
The land was wide and exposed. There were not many cities here, no crowds to bear witness—only the emptiness of earth and sky, chosen by mages as the stage for a war meant to stay hidden. The air itself felt weighted, thick with the pull of mana gathering from all corners of the world.
Edward stepped out first, his boots pressing into the dry earth. His eyes scanned the expanse with calm precision, measuring every inch of open ground and every shadow of potential approach.
Behind him, Cassie staggered onto the plateau, brushing her hair from her face. She still looked pale from the flight, her balance unsteady after Edward's reckless burst of speed.
Achilles followed last, rolling his shoulders as if limbering for a race, a grin tugging at his mouth despite the rough landing.
Cassie looked around, squinting against the sun. "Where are the other guys, Dad? Can you sense them?"
Edward exhaled through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Honey, you're a Master now. And I'm the Overseer of this war. You can't ask me for help. You're on your own."
Cassie puffed her cheeks, arms crossing in frustration. "Oh, come on. Just a hint."
Edward chuckled softly, reaching out to pat her head. "Sorry dear, the war is supposed to be fair. Take care of yourself, and don't break stuff."
His voice sharpened slightly as his gaze shifted to Achilles. "Remember what I said."
He gestured with a sharp chop of his hand.
Achilles' grin faltered. He shifted slightly, one hand unconsciously moving to cover his crotch as if shielding himself. "Yes, sir. I won't let her get hurt or do something reckless."
Edward's stern gaze softened into satisfaction. "Good."
He turned away, his figure lifting from the ground as he rose into the air. He flew toward the city on the horizon—a sprawling construct of stone and steel that shimmered faintly under the weight of enchantments.
Valhalla. The city built by mages for the Grail Wars.
Its towers were a strange hybrid of modern glass and medieval fortifications, a deliberately artificial creation. The city existed for one purpose only: to host the Masters and their Servants in battle, ensuring the war could unfold in a controlled arena without threatening the outside world. People who lived there were very few.
Edward's eyes narrowed as he approached. His voice shifted, dropping into the quiet stillness of thought. [Since I'm the Ruler of this war, and should hide my actual identity… might as well use your Ruler.]
From deep within his soul, a low chuckle answered. [About damn time. I've been bored out of my mind in here.]
Edward's lips thinned. [Remember. We're here to observe and judge, not to kill.]
The laughter came sharp, edged with mischief. [Yeah, yeah. Mr. Nice Guy. No ripping off heads.]
Edward took a slow breath. His voice hardened. [Equip: Ruler.]
The air split with a sudden gust, the force sweeping across the land. The bright Australian sky dimmed, sunlight swallowed as shadows stretched unnaturally.
Within moments, the world itself seemed to shift. The sky turned black as night, and a crimson moon bled across the heavens. The phenomenon stretched across the continent, pulling the eyes of every living soul.
In cities, on farms, along highways, people froze where they stood, staring at the impossible moon above them. Panic spread in shouts and screams, confusion erupting in every corner of the country.
But as suddenly as it came, the illusion vanished. The moon blinked out, replaced by the bright, cloudless sun. Memory fog rolled across the minds of all who had seen it, their recollection slipping like water through fingers. Within seconds, it was gone—reduced to nothing more than a vague unease they couldn't place.
Far from prying eyes, Edward stood alone. His form had changed. Blond hair and blue eyes were gone, replaced by long black hair that brushed against his shoulders and eyes of burning red, concealed behind round sunglasses.
A long crimson coat draped his frame, his hat tilted low. His very presence exuded weight—dread and oppression pressed against the world, demanding recognition. Yet his manner remained calm, almost gentlemanly, a contradiction that masked the predator underneath.
The Ruler-class Servant he possessed was Alucard of Hellsing. But this Alucard was not the one of legends bound to duty. This was something darker—something that had consumed his world until nothing remained, only to rediscover silence and, in it, a strange kind of peace.
Edward let the memories slide through him. He muttered under his breath. "What a mess." His voice carried no pride, no amusement—just quiet resignation. He adjusted his coat and began to walk toward the city.
Elsewhere, other Masters and Servants were arriving, drawn to Valhalla by the same call.
At an airstrip outside the city, a sleek private jet descended. From its ramp stepped Bruce Wayne, his movements precise and measured, every step calculated. Beside him walked Saber, Arthur Pendragon. his posture erect, his bearing unmistakably regal.
The knight's eyes swept across the land with the quiet discipline of a commander surveying the battlefield. Bruce's gaze lingered on the horizon, his jaw tight. Neither spoke. Words weren't necessary. Both already understood the gravity of where they stood.
Far above, another vessel tore through the clouds. A golden ship, ornate and radiant, hovered effortlessly as if the sky itself bent to its presence. Gilgamesh stood on its deck, arms folded, his golden armor gleaming under the sun.
Lex Luthor stood beside him, eyes narrowing as he studied the city below. His expression was already calculating.
He had chosen their base before they even landed—an immense stone castle at the city's heart, perfectly situated for defense and surveillance. Gilgamesh said nothing, his silence carrying the same weight as thunder before a storm.
Across the sea, Ace and Heracles traveled less elegantly. Ace had bent reality with her powers, arranging for them to board a mundane flight bound for Australia. She sat comfortably in the seat, chattering excitedly, legs swinging as if this were nothing more than a trip abroad.
Heracles sat beside her, his massive frame awkwardly crammed into the human-sized seat. His words came haltingly, fragments of thought breaking through the haze of madness.
Yet when Ace laughed, he laughed too, his voice rough but warm. The other passengers never remembered they were there.
Connor and Karna's arrival was rougher still. Hidden away aboard a cargo ship, they endured the cramped, stifling journey in silence. Connor stretched the moment his boots hit the dock, inhaling sharply, his eyes wide as he took in the open expanse.
"Finally," he muttered, unable to hide his excitement. Karna stood tall beside him, silent but vigilant, his golden armor faintly shimmering as his eyes scanned the horizon for danger.
Katana and Shuten-Dōji slipped through the city quietly, stepping off a late-night flight. Katana's hand rested against her sword, her gaze sharp as she swept their surroundings.
Shuten moved with far less concern, her smile mischievous as she eyed every flicker of neon and shadow with equal delight.
Constantine and Arjuna disembarked from another flight not far away. Constantine shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his trench coat, cigarette dangling from his lip.
Arjuna walked a step behind, his posture straight, every movement deliberate. They argued in low voices as they moved through the terminal, drawing no attention yet unable to mask their sharp contrast.
Within the city, the Masters began to claim their bases. Constantine found an abandoned house on the edge of a quiet district. Its walls were cracked, windows shattered, but with a wave of his hand and a few muttered words, it became livable.
Arjuna inspected the place with silent disapproval. "This wastes my skill," he said flatly. Constantine only smirked and poured himself a drink.
Katana and Shuten discovered a sprawling manor styled like an old European castle. Its stone walls and shadowed halls made Katana wary, but Shuten's grin only widened as she skipped through its corridors, delighted by the echoes.
In contrast, Lex Luthor's castle became a fortress within hours. His resources secured it, Gilgamesh's presence made it untouchable, and soon its towers shone with golden light.
The city of Valhalla stirred with new life. Built by mages, it contained every luxury of human civilization—towers of glass, markets, theaters, even homes.
Yet its population was an illusion. The humans who once lived here had been moved by memory manipulation, sent away until the war concluded.
In their place, golems and machines maintained the city, filling the streets with a quiet hum of activity.
For now, there was no fighting. But the air grew heavy with anticipation. The Masters and their Servants had arrived. The stage was set. The Grail War was about to begin.
*****
The artificial city built by the Mages was silent under the blanket of night. Neon streetlights flickered, casting pools of light across empty streets. The air was heavy with prana, humming like static, signaling that Servants were near.
Magic under the surface tightened like a held breath. The wards outlining the arena thrummed; the city's golems paused in their work as if waiting for something.
Lex and Batman chose to observe tonight. They stood apart on a high vantage points where they could see the city.
Lex's posture calculating, Batman's quiet and watchful. Batman had finished briefing the Justice League about the his latest update. Cyborg was monitoring the area with his tech as satelites couldn't penetrate the magical barrier. They would be ready to intervene within moments.
Constantine strolled lazily down a rain-slicked street, coat collar high and cigarette glowing like a single ember. He didn't expect a show of top-tier servants on the opening night.
Arjuna walked at his side, calm and steady, every step measured. His golden bow rested lightly on his back, but his eyes stayed sharp.
"You look like someone constipated mate. Lighten up. It's just the opening night" Constantine cracked a joke. Arjuna did not laugh. He only inhaled softly and shook his head. Suddenly his eyes widened as he sensed a strong aura nearby.
Arjuna stopped, then spoke to Constantine in a low voice, "It'd be best if you left here, Master. I sense a familiar presence. I don't think he'd be happy to see me. If we fight here, in your language, you'd be 'fucked' up."
Constantine rolled his eyes. "What, mate? You got a jealous ex or something? I have been through hell. Nothing will scare me. "
Arjuna shook his head once, slow. "It's… my brother. The strongest one."
Constantine spat out his cigarette. " Oh fuck me and my bloody fucken luck!"
Nearby, Karna also paused while walking beside Connor. He flinched at the change in his companion's stance. "What's wrong, Karna?" Connor asked with worry.
Karna's smile was quieter than usual, polite and old-shaded. "It seems my brother was also summoned to this war."
Connor's face tried on optimism and failed. "well, isn't that good?" he said, slightly hesitant.
Karna's hand rested on his spear. "He was the one who killed me," he said cleanly. "Though I hold no grudges. We chose our separate paths and made peace with it." His voice had the steadiness of someone used to ending sentences on final chords.
Connor went quiet, then said, "Do as you wish. I'll support you." The boy's tone was nervous but determined.
Meanwhile Constantine was trying to convince Arjuna to carpet bomb the city and be done with it while Arjuna ignored him.
Before Constantine could fire back, footsteps echoed from the opposite side of the street. Two figures stepped into view.
Connor Kent, shoulders squared, his stance tense but eager. Beside him, Karna—his silver armor gleaming faintly under the streetlights, golden earrings catching the glow. His spear rested in his hand, quiet, patient, but his expression softened when he saw the one ahead.
Arjuna's fingers found his bow string like a reflex; Karna's grip tightened on the spear shaft.
"Brother," Arjuna said, voice steady, though his fingers flexed slightly near his bowstring.
"Never thought we would face each other in battle once again."
Karna smiled faintly. "Fate works in strange ways. But this time, no gods stand between us. No curses, no deception. Only our choices."
Arjuna's jaw tightened. "Even so… the result will be the same."
Karna chuckled softly, without malice. "Perhaps. But I welcome it."
The two brothers stood facing one another, tension thick in the air.
Constantine, ever the opportunist , flicked ash onto the ground. "Right. So this is a family reunion. Lovely. Hey, kid—" He looked at Connor. "You don't belong in this mess. Walk away while you can. I'll even buy you a pint."
Connor stepped forward, fists clenched, defiant. "I'm not old enough to drink. And I should be saying that to you, old man. Surrender before you get hurt. I am stronger than I look."
Constantine sighed, lighting another cigarette, and watched them circle like a pleased spectator. "Kids these days have no bloody respect," he muttered with annoyance.
"But I don't feel like hurting a kid tonight."
******
Arjuna's bow appeared in his hands with a flash of divine light, strung with energy that hummed with restrained destruction. His eyes locked on Karna's.
Karna spun his spear once, its edge glinting gold. His calm never wavered.
Then the silence shattered.
Arjuna loosed an arrow, a streak of blinding energy tearing through the night. Karna's spear flashed, deflecting it with a ringing clash of metal against light. Sparks scattered across the street like fireworks.
The two leapt into motion.
Arjuna fired rapidly, each arrow like a star falling from the heavens. Karna danced between them, spear flowing in perfect arcs, parrying, spinning, deflecting. The ground cracked beneath their movements, each strike heavier than mortal weapons could bear.
Constantine ducked behind a half-collapsed wall, cigarette still in his mouth. "Bloody hell. They're gonna level the street before the bar even closes."
Connor's eyes widened as he watched Karna fight with composed grace, but his fists tightened when he saw Arjuna summon a massive arrow of divine flame.
"Master," Karna called calmly, without looking. "Stay back. This is between us."
Connor growled. "Like hell. I'm not letting you fight alone."
Constantine fired a few magical blasts and spoke ."PILS." Connor lost his balance and slipped. He tried get up, Constantine casually muttered. "NIARTSER."
Connor's limbs were magically bound by something invisible. He struggled to break free. Constantine spoke with nonchalance. " You are strong kid." Then he smirked. " But I'm John Constantine."
Meanwhile, the battle between brothers continued. Arjuna loosed a few flaming arrows. Karna met it head-on. He muttered softly, "O agni." His spear burst forth with radiant flames.
The clash lit the night in a thunderous explosion, shockwaves ripping across the street and shattering windows.
Both brothers slid back, heels digging trenches in the cracked asphalt. Arjuna had few cuts while Karna was almost unscathed.
Arjuna's voice was firm, but quieter now. "You should never have been born. Your existence only brought chaos. Fate cursed us both. But I do not enjoy this. Why stand in my way again?"
Karna lifted his spear, eyes calm but heavy. "Because I lived my life on my terms. I died from treachery, so my karma was wiped clean.
And now, I will live my second the same way. I have someone to protect now. If we must fight again, then so be it."
*****
No chapters until I get better.
I might have tried to brainstorm a bit , but figured, nah, lets just find some translations to mass produce while I lie down, and make some papers on the side, so Daddy can actually afford a better insurance, maybe even a working car 💀.