Fate Zero-Fusions World

A true prayer out of most profound beauty can inspire and shape life for all eternity, Maxwell reminded himself. Standing in front of the altar, he raised his arms, outlining a cross in the air. 

The black sleeves of his gown pulled at his strength. He sometimes asked himself how much longer he could do his task.

'Breathe in, breathe out,' he reminded himself, completing the blessing before he thanked all citizens who took their time to attend church service today.

For a brief while, many there believed angel dust had rained from the ceiling. With the next blink, however, everything had disappeared. The warm feeling of togetherness accompanied them out into the autumn air.

The wind, reaching high into the sky, carried the ringing bells to the town's furthest corners. Butchers and tailors alike interrupted their work to view the glistening tower in the dusk light for a while.

Crowds of people pushed towards the exit. Two baskets stood by the doors, filling the room with the jingling sound of coins. Candles danced and bathed the white walls in a warm light.

It wasn't long before silence descended on the lonely chapel, which housed only one old man. His bones groaned under the heavy fabric. He was no longer the youngest. But no one could take over his duty in this church.

How many citizens did he already visit in the hospital? How many funerals had he conducted? Did he guide their souls safely to heaven?

The door to the church was always open for people looking for warmth and comfort. Even if they only wanted to chat. Sad and happy days, the father of this church had experienced them all. He was there for the city and valued every single citizen.

Only when his bones broke under the weight of God would this church be closed.

Slowly, he extinguished the individual candles he had spent so much time lighting. The old father's back ached from standing upright the entire day and was finally relieved by a soft bed.

Maxwell carefully placed his shimmering ring on the bedside table. Then he picked up the letter that had been delivered by the post office in the afternoon. A magnificent red wax seal sealed the envelope. 

With a pair of glasses and a closer look, he could even make out the magical lines engraved into the seal. Someone had carefully folded the note inside. The parchment was old and slightly yellowish, but the ink looked clear and holy.

"Greetings, priests, and pastors of our holy church. It has been a long time since we spread the Lord's word. After much deliberation, we felt it necessary to inform you that Heaven's Feel will once again take place in Fuyuki.

"We consider it our duty as a Holy Church to care for all those who cannot protect themselves and therefore ask you all to pronounce a blessing on the residents of the city so that they may find strength and a way to God in these dark times. May God hold his protective hand so that Fuyuki may come through this calamity unscathed..."

Maxwell shook his head. "Unbelievable... Simply unbelievable. How long has it been since the Holy Church decreed a worldwide ceremony? Ten years?"

Maybe even longer; Maxwell couldn't remember exactly. Such letters came rarely, often brought a cruel omen, and were only delivered by specially selected messengers. Sometimes, they sent priests to help the injured or to prevent the spread of dangerous diseases. But in Fuyuki, they no longer tried to oppose the magi. 

'What blasphemy! How dare you call this man-made object a Holy Grail?' Maxwell growled, shaking his head and skimming the last lines of the letter before slamming it into a drawer.

'They'd best break this cursed thing down into its atoms,' he thought. "How dare those greedy magi make copies of souls from the past!"

Only God should have that right. After all, his children were all resting peacefully in heaven. But the magi disturbed this peace and turned the old legends into slaves of their modern imagination. Why does the holy church accept that?

Maxwell laughed. "Instead, they even support this false artifact as its overseer." How can they condone the desecration of souls? Ridiculous!"

It had been 60 years. The three families had probably already informed the Clock Tower and the church a few months ago that the Heaven's Feel ritual was about to begin. No wonder they now want to pray for all the innocent people.

Hopefully, every participant will end up in the blazing fire of hell. Maxwell immediately kneeled on a cushion and held his hands close to his body.

'Oh my Lord, forgive these poor souls. They are blind to your mercy and know no better. Protect all those in this difficult time. Grant those who lose their lives in Fuyuki, whether man or woman, child or magus, and grant them all a safe journey to your perfect kingdom.'

He slowly stood up before taking off his gown and hanging it on a hanger. The scarf slipped off his shoulders as he placed both shoes on a small shelf. Slowly, Maxwell went into the bathroom.

'I am sorry, my lord, that I have failed. If only I could do something about Fuyuki...'

He fell into the feather bed like a baby and pulled the blanket up to his head. All muscles relaxed under the soft and warm fabric. After only a few minutes, his consciousness drifted into the world of dreams.

Even though Maxwell had faithfully followed his belief for years, he remained a mortal old man. Just one of many lives. As much as he loathed the Grail, the magical construct hid itself where no human senses could find it.

For even if the Grail comes from the hand of man, how could one imagine the power to fulfill any wish unconditionally? The love of gaining power, fame, and influence with a wish had corrupted the magi.

A tear rolled down Maxwell's cheek as he slept. There are so many people. He could see them all. Their hands reached greedily out for the golden light, but not a single poor soul would reach the sky...

"Ahhh!" Maxwell snapped out of his dream. Where was the light switch? Everything spun as nothingness engulfed every sense. Then he skidded and slammed onto the hard floor. But instead of a heavy thud, nothing happened. His body felt numb as if he existed in the middle of a trance.

This peace, this white heavenly light. Maxwell stretched out his hand. Then panic took over his mind.

'Oh no, did I crack my head open?' His whole body stirred like a worm. The white, star-sparkling light came closer. Maxwell tried to crawl backward. There had to be a phone somewhere if only he could dial the emergency number. There was still so much important work to do.

Unnoticed, he stretched out his hand. The white light enveloped his skin. All worries disappeared. What was he doing anyway? Then he felt the touch of a white hand.

The delicate fingers of a pale, slender arm. The white hair flowed like a river as her mouth opened and closed, and a heavenly melody flew into his ears. Suddenly, everything disappeared, and the light switch colored the room yellow.

'What the...'

Maxwell stared at his hand with wide eyes. A golden glow shone on his skin. The light formed a cross beautifully decorated as it wove itself around the hand. Suddenly, his bones vibrated strongly and powerfully. He felt mana and faith, feeding the cross with pride. 

The light faded and was replaced by a red jewel crystallized in the center, entwined by two chains.

"My Lord, you have never left me, even in darkness. If it is your will, then I shall destroy the sinful object and finally remove the suffering from this city."

Maxwell felt an all-mighty presence. It was far away, yet warmed his skin. One last time, he wanted to see the figure hidden in the white mist.

He immediately knelt on the cold ground. Now, he finally knew what God's closeness truly meant. The purity of her white light was unimaginable. With the completion of the command spell on his hand, he rose.

Like the breaking of a dam, knowledge flowed into Maxwell. He had to prepare everything for the Holy Presence. What a filthy church he had to perform the summoning! In the house of God, there can be no impurities! The Holy War had to end, and the Grail had to be destroyed.

Maxwell gripped his head in pain and fell backward into the bed, the springs squeaking. The pain seemed unbearable.

His mind slumped powerlessly, but a slight smile remained on his lips. The ambassador stood by him. Even if he didn't look her in the eye, she stayed by his side the whole time to watch over him.

She radiated such beauty and elegance that it could not have come from this world. No mortal could retain the magnificence as a memory. Only the rough outlines of the mist still floated in space like a vision.

'What senses do we lack that God's love is so hard to feel?'

With the instructions Maxwell received, it was easy for him to formulate the highly complex summoning circle. It was almost as if a soft hand guided the chalk between his fingers.

It pricked like a nail as the alien's magical energy seeped into his skin. The rune circle formed as the needle changed direction on its own, just like a compass would.

Maxwell himself couldn't believe what he was seeing at his feet. Did the circle establish a connection to a specific point on this earth? Could the needle not fixate on the Grail until the artifact manifested itself? Or did the human eye simply lack the sense to find its way into God's realm without guidance?

Shrugging his shoulders, he drew the final lines. The circle took up a large part of the room, directly in front of the altar. Chairs, tables, and even some benches had to be moved. Colored light danced through the panes across the granite floor.

Inside the runic circle, Maxwell formed a star, the points of which were to break through the circle and thus the limitations of this world. Masaki placed a jewel on each of these points. The preparations were now complete, but he still had to wait for the right moment.

Only then would he place the catalyst in the center of the star to open the way to the Holy Land. 

The brilliant sunlight behind the stained glass disappeared. The panes groaned as heavy rain suddenly beat against the walls. A light flashed in the distance while the thunder that followed shook the church.

The storm had come and given the signal.

Masaki carefully placed the Bible in the center of the summoning circle. The time ticked away continuously, and the intensity of the light from the back of his hand grew with every second. Frustrated, he stood up and stretched his hand forward. The three incantation spells on his skin began to flash under the circle's building pressure.

Usually, a simple summoning circle is enough. For it was not the magus who performed the summoning with his power alone, but the Holy Grail. The Master formed nothing more than a cord that connected the Servant to the world into which he was to be summoned. 

The ritual Maxwell used the same principle and intended to connect them with their respective servants.

"I call out into the distance," Maxwell began his words. His voice echoed through the church. The formation at his feet glowed with a glistening white light. It seemed like something was emanating from another world that no human sense could perceive.

"To a land beyond imagination." Prana surrounded his body in a layer thicker than Maxwell had ever felt before. 

Agony pulsed through his magical circuits. An echo every magus knew. But as much as they wanted to, no one could escape the unworldly feeling. It seemed to eat you up from the inside as if something punished the mere use of the supernatural.

Maxwell gritted his teeth. He regretted using his circuits so rarely and had to pull himself together to complete the ritual fully. It was going to come down to the wire. If Maxwell failed in anchoring the Holy Knight in this world, he would never be able to bear the shame.

'Please, my Lord, help me.

Winds flowed through the church effortlessly, tearing open the great gates and pulling pews like toys. Sword-sharp cuts split the church. Then the light changed. It turned green!

Panic gripped Maxwell. Had he done something wrong? His mouth went dry, but something familiar settled the worry in his heart. The star was turning. By now, he could no longer even see the edges.

Only two circles shine with power. "I swear that I embody all that is good in this world, and as I am good, I destroy all evil."

Stones collapsed in a dark ruin. Here, too, a ritual was performed. In the depths of a dilapidated cellar where many books rained from the shelves, someone pressed their hand against the runic compass scrawled in charcoal on the cold stone surface. Hands and sleeves burned.

The rune glowed red. Legs wobbled as a deep desire shook the room. Helplessly, the mana coursed the circle's terrible aura. Hatred drowned everything in the bleeding light.

"Give me access to the Far Land, for my will creates your body, and your sword determines my fate; if you follow the call of the Grail, answer me! You heroic spirit from another world!"

An angelic song rose, silencing the winds. Maxwell could hear it. His eyes widened as he watched the gate to another world open. Lightning raged like bells as the heroic spirits arrived.

The figure stood amid the smoke. Clothes fluttered in the wind, and mana pulsed across the connection. Only now did Maxwell realize that he had closed his eyes. Why? Had he imagined everything? His eyes opened cautiously.

At last, the wind blew away the smoke. A dark green cloak waved in the dying storm. Three swords hung from the right hip while his left hand rested vigilantly over the hilts.