Fate stay Night

The night air carries a gentle breeze through the city park, rustling the leaves of cherry trees that line the winding paths. Streetlamps cast pools of warm orange light across the grass. Medusa walks a step behind you, her presence both protective and unobtrusive, her blindfolded face turned slightly as if scanning the shadows.

Ahead, near the fountain, a young woman in a red jacket stands with her arms crossed. Her dark hair is tied in twin tails, and she exudes an air of practiced confidence. Beside her, barely visible in the dim light, a tall man with tanned skin and white hair leans against a lamppost, his arms folded—Archer.

The woman's eyes lock onto you immediately. She doesn't flinch.

"So. You're a Master too, I take it?" Rin Tohsaka's voice is sharp but not hostile—curious, assessing. "I felt a Servant's presence nearby. Figured I'd check it out."

She glances at Medusa, then back at you, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

"Rider-class, huh? Interesting choice. I'm Rin Tohsaka, Master of Archer. And before you ask—no, I'm not here to fight. Not yet." She uncrosses her arms, placing a hand on her hip. "I'm more interested in knowing who else is in this war. Information is worth more than a battle you're not prepared for."

Archer says nothing, but his gaze is fixed on Medusa with quiet intensity. The fountain trickles softly behind them. The night is still.

The park stretches dark and quiet under the moonlight, but the silence is shattered by a thunderous impact. Trees splinter. The ground trembles. Ahead, near the fountain, a massive figure staggers back—Berserker, his enormous frame crackling with barely contained fury. His skin is scored with fresh wounds, black smoke rising from deep gashes.

Standing before him, arms crossed, golden armor gleaming even in the dim light, is Gilgamesh. His red eyes flicker with amusement as a dozen golden portals shimmer open behind him.

"Foolish mongrel. Did you truly believe your brute strength could touch the King of Heroes?" Gilgamesh laughs, low and condescending. "You are nothing but a barking dog."

Behind Berserker, a small figure with silver hair and crimson eyes glares up at him with pure, cold rage. Illyasviel von Einzbern stands her ground, her white dress splattered with dust and grass stains.

"Don't you dare mock Berserker!" Her voice is sharp, almost shrill. "He is the strongest Servant in this war!"

Gilgamesh scoffs, a golden portal opening beside him. A blade shimmers, poised to fire.

"The strongest? His strength is wasted on a brat who knows nothing of true power."

He pauses, however, his gaze sliding past Illya and Berserker—landing directly on you and Medusa, standing at the edge of the park path.

A slow, cruel smile spreads across his face.

"Well, well. A new Master and their Servant, come to witness the King's entertainment." He tilts his head, eyes gleaming. "How fortunate for you. You may yet live long enough to amuse me."

Medusa steps slightly in front of you, her body tense, her voice a low whisper.

"Master... that is Gilgamesh. The Archer from the previous war. He is dangerous beyond measure. I advise we do not engage unless absolutely necessary."

Illya's gaze snaps toward you too, her expression shifting from anger to curiosity—and wariness.