Extra's Stories

"M-Master? What!?"

Artoria stared up at Fate, her eyes wide with shock and confusion. Panic flickered across her normally composed expression as she struggled to process what had just happened.

Fate glanced down at her, and despite the situation, a chuckle escaped his lips. That dumbfounded look—it reminded him of Shirou when he first summoned Saber by accident. And Morgan when she…

'What the fuck am I thinking?'

Fate shook his head, clearing away the intrusive thoughts.

"We'll talk later. The other Servant is approaching."

Without waiting for a response, Fate dashed out of the shed and launched himself high into the air, his sharp gaze locking onto the incoming Saber-class Servant running alongside a black-haired teenager.

Chaos Control: Trace

His mind raced as an identical blade for his opponent appeared from within his Reality Marble—Kusanagi no Tsurugi, the legendary sword of Yamato Takeru. The very same blade wielded by his approaching foe.

'Do I fight with honor using Gramps' power, or should I snipe her from a distance?'

A smirk curled his lips.

Install.

With a single command, his form shifted, power coursing through his circuits as he adapted to a new fighting style.

"Master, be careful!" Yamato Takeru warned, her grip tightening around her sword.

She barely had time to react before a massive blade came crashing down on her. She raised her weapon, barely managing to block the devastating strike. The sheer force of the impact sent tremors through the ground, cracks webbing out beneath her feet.

"GAHHH!"

Letting out a pained grunt, she channeled her magic and unleashed a [Mana Burst], forcefully pushing back Fate's weapon.

But Fate was already moving.

With fluid precision, he spun Balmung, shifting the colossal sword from his right hand to his left in an instant. The motion was so seamless, so unnaturally fast, that Yamato Takeru's eyes widened in shock. She had never seen anyone handle a weapon of that size with such terrifying grace.

Before she could recover, Fate swung again.

The strike came from her open side—too quick to counter properly. She barely managed to shift her blade in time, but the impact was brutal.

She was sent crashing into the ground, the sheer force of her landing leaving deep spiderweb cracks beneath her. Balmung pressed down on her, sparks flying as steel ground against steel.

Fate sneered. "Heh? I don't remember Saber-class Servants being this weak!"

He stomped down hard on her stomach.

"Aghhh!" Yamato Takeru screamed as the breath was forced from her lungs. Her defense crumbled, and Balmung's tip hovered just inches from her face.

"STOP!"

Artoria's voice rang out like a command from the heavens.

Fate's body froze—against his will.

His eyes narrowed in realization as he adjusted his blade at the last second, letting it stab into the ground beside Yamato Takeru's head. A thin line of blood dripped down her cheek from the close cut.

Gritting his teeth, Fate turned his head toward Artoria. She stood there, gasping for breath, clutching her trembling hand. A faint red glow flickered on the back of her palm—the unmistakable sign of a used Command Seal.

His eye twitched.

"Do you have any idea how valuable those are!?" Fate snarled, grinding his boot deeper into Yamato Takeru's stomach. She let out another pained gasp, struggling to push him off.

Wasting a Command Seal.

One of the most idiotic, reckless things anyone could do in a Holy Grail War.

Before he could snap at her further, a new voice cut through the air.

"Pendragon?"

Fate turned his attention to the enemy Master—a black-haired girl with twin tails, sharp blue eyes, a red shirt, and a black skirt paired with dark leggings. She stood confidently despite the tension in the air, analyzing the situation with an almost detached expression.

Artoria's eyes widened in recognition. "Tohsaka?"

Fate frowned. 'Tohsaka? Where have I heard that name before?'

His gaze settled on the girl. Despite her petite frame, he could sense a massive amount of magic energy radiating from her. Far more than his own Master, who hadn't even unlocked her magic circuits yet.

As an incarnation of "Power", Fate is compatible with any type, any form of power.

His connection to this Artoria is similar to a connection between a Master and a Heroic Spirit. But currently, Artoria is unable to transfer any magic energy to him leaving him to rely on his own reserves.

"What the hell!? My pathetic sister is your Master!?"

Morgan's astral form materialized, her sharp glare locking onto Artoria with pure venom. Rage burned in her eyes, her voice dripping with disgust.

Fate barely spared her a glance before lazily waving his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Back inside you go."

Morgan's form flickered and vanished as he sent her back into his Reality Marble—without an ounce of concern.

Tohsaka cleared her throat, clearly unfazed by the bizarre exchange. "Can we talk?"

Artoria, still processing everything, nodded almost subconsciously.

Both Masters turned toward their Servants—only to see Yamato Takeru still struggling beneath Fate's metal boot, her arms trembling as she tried to push him off.

Artoria's gaze softened. "Changer, could you... please let her go?"

There was a quiet plea in her voice.

Fate rolled his eyes but complied, lifting his foot off the downed Saber.

Just like that, the tension diffused—for now.

Pendragon Residence

The five of them—counting the persistent astral Morgan—found themselves gathered around the dining table in the Pendragon residence. A ceasefire had been established, albeit a fragile one.

Rin and Artoria sat across from each other, their expressions wary but open to conversation. Their respective Servants flanked them, their demeanor telling an entirely different story.

Yamato Takeru sat rigidly, her posture tense, eyes locked onto Fate as if expecting him to lunge at any moment.

Fate, on the other hand, didn't even try to hide his interest. His gaze never left Yamato Takeru—no, the walking Saber Card sitting right in front of him.

His blue eyes gleamed with an almost predatory hunger, sending an uncomfortable shiver up the Saber's spine. She instinctively shifted, crossing her arms over her chest, as if shielding herself from his gaze.

"L-Let's start with introductions," Rin said, breaking the tension. She placed a hand over her chest, her voice firm and controlled. "I'm Rin Tohsaka, heir to the Tohsaka family, one of the main families in this Fifth Holy Grail War."

"Holy Grail War?" Artoria tilted her head slightly, confusion evident in her expression.

Before Rin could explain, Fate spoke up, his tone casual yet dismissive.

"Seven magi summon Heroic Spirits—legendary figures from across time—to fight in a battle royale for a golden cup that may or may not grant a wish."

He didn't even bother looking at his Master as he spoke. His attention remained entirely on Yamato Takeru.

Morgan, having listened silently up until now, rested her chin on her palm, smirking. "A Holy Grail War, huh? Interesting."

Then, she flicked her fingers in Fate's direction. "Fetch me the Grail, my servant."

Fate's eye twitched.

'The fuck? Since when did I become your servant?'

He turned toward the smug white-haired woman sitting beside him. There was no getting rid of her—he had sent her back into his Reality Marble earlier, yet here she was again.

Morgan smirked wider. "Face it! The moment you pinned me down and decided to have your way with this lovely maiden, your fate was sealed!"

Fate's brow twitched as he stared at her.

Maiden? Doesn't she have like… three or four kids or something?

'Aren't you, like, over a thousand years o—'

SMACK!

Morgan slapped him across the face.

"I believe I'm still in my early twenties, thank you very much."

Her voice carried a sharp edge of irritation, as if merely mentioning her age was a crime worthy of execution.

Fate sat there, rubbing his cheek.

His ongoing private conversation with Morgan remained unnoticed by the others.

Artoria unintentionally let it slip that Fate was a Changer-Class Servant. The revelation made Rin freeze, her sharp mind immediately racing through possibilities. Changer? That wasn't a standard class. But then, realization struck her like a bolt of lightning—he could freely change his class at will.

Her blood ran cold.

If that wasn't bad enough, he was also the Extra Servant. That meant he likely possessed at least seven different Noble Phantasms, one for each class he could take on.

"This... this has to be a joke..." Rin muttered, pressing her fingers against her temples as if trying to stave off an oncoming migraine.

Her frustration boiled over as she covered her face, her mind refusing to accept this absurd reality. "Your knowledge of Magecraft is practically zero, yet you summoned the most broken Servant by accident!?" Her voice rose, and she grabbed her own twin tails, tugging at them in distress.

Artoria sat awkwardly across from her, feeling an odd mix of sympathy and secondhand embarrassment. Rin Tohsaka—one of the most admired students in Homurahara, someone even more popular than the student council president—was having a full-blown mental breakdown at her dining table.

"Uhhh... Are you okay?" Artoria hesitantly asked, watching with growing concern.

Rin was not okay. Her face was flushed, and her blood pressure was visibly spiking. If this kept up, Artoria was fairly certain she'd either suffer a stroke or pass out from sheer stress.

"I'm totally fine... Pendragon-san..." Rin gritted out, her glare like daggers.

"Keep that up, and you might get wrinkles," Fate—Changer—chimed in, his voice tinged with amusement.

Rin turned her glare on him, but she held her tongue. She was well aware that picking a fight with an overpowered Servant was a death sentence. The last thing she needed was for him to decide he was done with her and turn her into a smear on the floor.

Then, a thought struck her.

"Wait a second," Rin said, her eyes narrowing. "If you summoned Changer by accident, then do you even have enough prana to supply him?"

"Prana?" Artoria blinked in confusion. "What's that?"

Rin's eye twitched.

'This girl doesn't even know what prana is!?'

"It's basically your magic energy," Fate answered nonchalantly. "Servants need it to stay materialized. The amount you've given me is practically nothing, so I've just been running off my reserves."

Silence.

Rin, Saber, and Artoria all stared at him in shock.

"Don't worry, Master," Fate added, smirking. "Just my reserves alone are enough to solo this war."

Rin wanted to scream. Of course they are.

She had painstakingly summoned Saber, one of the strongest Servants, only for him—this extra, this absurd wildcard—to knock her down effortlessly without even using his Master's prana.

Saber's grip on her sword tightened. Her instincts screamed at her, warning her of the overwhelming threat that Fate posed. But she didn't move. She couldn't move. One wrong step could mean both her and her Master's deaths.

Meanwhile, Artoria was silent, lost in thought. A deep frustration stirred within her. She had summoned Fate, yet she couldn't even provide him with prana. She was utterly powerless to support her own Servant.

The realization stung.

"Can you teach me?"

Everyone turned to her in surprise.

Artoria's expression was resolute. "Can you teach me how to use magic?" she asked, locking eyes with Rin.

For a moment, Rin was taken aback. Then, a smirk crept onto her lips as she crossed her arms and puffed out her chest.

"Well, well, Pendragon-san," Rin said, her arrogance flaring to life. "You might have zero talent now, but under my tutelage, maybe—maybe—you'll be able to perform the basics without embarrassing yourself."

Fate sighed, already dreading how insufferable she was going to be.

Being summoned as a Servant was one thing, but learning he was the Extra Servant—the eighth Servant—felt like the universe was mocking him. Once again, he was the extra in someone else's story.

Meanwhile, an unspoken alliance formed between the two Masters, much to Fate's mild irritation.

Saber, however, kept stealing cautious glances at him, her body tense with unease. She had already felt the brunt of his strength, and the thought of facing him in battle again sent a cold shiver down her spine.

And then there was Morgan.

She had been silent for a while now—too silent. Fate noticed her idly tapping at the air, her lips curled into a smirk.

He narrowed his eyes.

What the hell is she scheming now?

It didn't take long to realize the answer.

She was poking around inside his system.

And, much to his horror, she now had limited access.

Fate attempted to fix his skill, but no matter how much he tinkered with it, the original effect refused to return. It was as if something fundamental had shifted, something beyond his control. 

With a sigh, he turned his focus elsewhere.

He set up a Bounded Field around the Pendragon residence, ensuring an added layer of protection. The moment Rin and Saber had left, Artoria's family returned home. Without missing a beat, Fate activated [Presence Manipulation], making himself vanish before their eyes as if he were never there.

Despite this being an alternate version of the Fifth Holy Grail War, his presence alone had already stirred unwanted attention. He could feel it—something, someone, was watching.

He carved runes into the walls, embedding protective enchantments to safeguard his Master and her family. 'This should hold for now.'

Rin Tohsaka was the Master of Saber. Saber was Yamato Takeru. Artoria Pendragon, despite her lineage, was completely clueless about Magecraft. And there was no Shirou Emiya, nor any sign of Counter Guardian EMIYA—yet.

Then, of course, there was the Grail.

Is it corrupted in this world or not? The thought lingered in his mind, an unspoken weight pressing down on him. If it was, then this war was already doomed before it even began.

A presence stirred behind him.

"You seem annoyed," Morgan purred, materializing beside him. She leaned against him casually, her weight pressing into his side as her long, silken hair draped over his face, partially obscuring his vision.

Fate didn't respond, simply continuing his work as if she weren't there.

Morgan, never one to be ignored, narrowed her eyes and reached up—pinching his cheek between her fingers.

"Ignoring me, huh?" she said, her tone carrying the slightest edge of irritation.

Still, he didn't react. Instead, he reached up, brushing her hair aside so he could see properly.

Morgan smirked. "You're no fun when you're brooding."

Install

Fate installed his Rider Class, his usual attire shifting into a sharp butler suit. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the change, before extending his hand. A familiar, sleek shape materialized in his grasp—Fate Riser, his personal motorcycle.

The sudden summoning caught Morgan's attention as she manifested into her physical form, standing beside him with mild curiosity. Without a word, she swung one leg over and took a seat behind him, sitting sideways with elegant ease, her long silver hair cascading behind her.

"Put this on." Fate handed her a red helmet, Iwhich made the Witch arch a brow. She hadn't expected him to offer her anything—let alone something meant for her safety.

"Oh? Finally deciding to be a gentleman?" she teased, amusement lacing her tone as she took the helmet from his hands.

Fate didn't even glance back. "Don't misunderstand. You're not a Servant, and it's better if no one mistakes you for the Extra Servant."

"How caring." Morgan's sarcasm was light, but the coldness in her last words lingered. Their relationship was… strange.

They didn't speak much after that, simply enjoying the ride.

The sensation of movement, the crisp night air brushing against her skin, the steady hum of the engine beneath her—it was… pleasant. Amusing, even. A new experience she never had the chance to enjoy before.

Fate, meanwhile, was focused on something else entirely.

As they weaved through Fuyuki City, he mentally mapped key locations:

Homurahara Academy

Fuyuki Church

Ryuudou Temple

He didn't expect to learn much in one night, but it was necessary to familiarize himself with the battlefield.

Yet, as he drove past a particular district, his [Tracker] skill flared to life.

Seven Heroic Spirits detected.

He narrowed his eyes.

'Interesting. I can confirm Caster isn't Medea—none of them match the mana signature of my Caster Card.' However, one of them felt… familiar. Something tugged at his senses, but he couldn't quite place what—or who—it was.

That bothered him.

If he couldn't see the Servants, he couldn't identify them. If he couldn't identify them, he couldn't prepare. And right now? His current arsenal wasn't enough to counter them all—not without Heroic Spirit EMIYA's Card, which would have given him access to an unlimited number of blades, the perfect counter to even the King of Heroes himself.

'This is troublesome.'

"Are you hungry?" he suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Morgan tilted her head at the question. "...Are you asking me out on a date?"

Her teasing was deliberate, but whether she was being honest or just trying to get into his head, Fate wasn't sure.

"I could just leave you waiting while I eat," he deadpanned.

Morgan snorted at his response, but after a moment, she sighed. "Fine. I'll eat with you."

She leaned closer, resting her head lightly against his shoulder, her arm wrapping around his torso for balance as the bike continued its smooth ride through the city streets.

Morgan sighed in disappointment as they arrived at their destination.

"A ramen stall?" she deadpanned, staring at the small, modest food stand tucked in an alleyway. "Really?"

Fate parked the bike and glanced at her. "What? Expecting five-star dining?"

"You know, I wasn't expecting much from you, but a cheap ramen stall? Honestly, I shouldn't have expected anything at all." She crossed her arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed but still following him to sit beside him.

As much as she would have preferred British cuisine, she supposed this would do for now.

She lifted the chopsticks and took a tentative bite—

—And stopped.

The moment the warm broth hit her tongue, her eyes widened slightly.

She hadn't expected to taste anything. After all, she was partially a spirit. Yet, somehow… her taste buds were working.

She took another bite.

Then another.

A faint pink blush dusted her cheeks as she enjoyed the flavor.

Fate, watching from the corner of his eye, raised an eyebrow.

'Huh. Cute.'

A second later, he blinked, shaking the thought out of his head.

'What the hell am I thinking?'

At that moment, a light blue notification flickered at the corner of Morgan's vision—a sign that something was happening within her system.

Target: Fate Redgrave 

Gender: Male

Trust: 4%

Loyalty: 0%

Love: 7%

Affection: Dom 71%

Mental: 78%

'Huh?' Morgan blinked as a notification flickered at the edge of her vision.

'Did his affection just rise from 5 to 7?'

She subtly turned toward him, watching as Fate continued eating, completely unbothered. He didn't glance at her, didn't acknowledge her in any way.

'Weird… was he checking me out just now?'

The thought made her frown. 'Ridiculous. As if it would be that easy.'

If Fate really wanted something from her, he wouldn't waste time with fleeting glances. He had already pinned her down before, had already bound her soul to a devil.

Morgan's lips curled into a knowing smirk. 'Fine then, Fate.' If he thought she would be the one bound, she would show him what it was like to be entangled in a witch's grasp.

For now, though, they simply enjoyed their quiet meal together.

When they finished, Fate paid for the food without a word.

The two left the ramen stall, once again riding off into the night on Fate Riser.