A few minutes before,
The sky turned gray, and the earth was replaced by an ocean of blood.
Lancer narrowed his eyes, sensing an ancientness in his surroundings.
Then, his eyes landed on the pillar shooting out of the bloody ocean not far from him, rising high toward the sky… where a spherical blackness rested, letting out a stream of blood.
The moment his eyes landed on that hole in the sky, Lancer's red pupils shook. Is that…
Suddenly, steps rang in his ears, making him snap his gaze down. It was the same… thing? He couldn't put his finger on it. At one moment, Lancer was sensing another Heroic Spirit. At another, he couldn't confirm that feeling, the white-haired man taking myriad forms.
One thing was sure, though.
This was Berserker, or controlled Berserker, or… something.
The white-haired man still had his hands clasped behind his back as he walked forward slowly toward him, making Lancer shift his stance.
Out of nowhere, he noticed something very odd.
With every step, the man was creating ripples in the shallow ocean of blood. While there were no such ripples under his feet, despite the blood reaching his ankles.
And, just as Lancer thought things couldn't take an odder turn, they did.
Lancer's gaze landed on the man's feet again. Not exactly on the feet, but on the reflection under his feet — a blurry, but also clear reflection.
That reflection… wasn't of the same man.
In the blood ocean, something much sinister had taken place, matching its pace exactly with that of the man. It had a lean, black figure, with long, clawed arms. Its long, yellow hair was flailing without wind in the reflection… and it had no face. Complete blankness.
As Lancer looked at it, he suddenly realized that the ancientness he had sensed before was coming from this figure.
Suddenly, the blood between him and the white-haired man stirred, making Lancer take a step back, his grip on the lance tightening.
But what came out of the blood was quite shocking.
A round, stony table and two stone chairs.
The white-haired man, smiling calmly, came to a stop behind the chair. "Do you know where we are?"
Lancer's eyes narrowed.
Then, he broke out with a sneering laughter. "… Tch!" he tsked. "If you could use a Reality Marble all along, then why not use it last time when we fought? Could have made things more interesting…"
Kai chuckled. He motioned at the chair in front of Cú Chulainn with his hand. "Please," he implored. "Take a seat."
Lancer didn't let go of the sneer on his face.
Other than the ancientness, he could feel something else, too.
Sure, this strange man, who somehow was also Berserker, carried some mystery about him, but… he wasn't as strong as the Berserker he had fought days ago. The same Berserker who had survived against his sure kill attack. His Noble Phantasm!
Lancer's grip on his lance shifted, a storm of Mana exploding around him.
But, seeing the calm on the man's face, that just refused to go away, he decided against fighting it out… at least for some time.
With a BANG, Lancer slammed the lance in his hand into the blood ocean, making it stand upright.
Then, he casually sat down, the man taking a seat opposite him as well.
"What now?" Lancer asked. "How long can you even keep me here? How long can you even keep this Reality Marble up?"
A Reality Marble replaced Reality.
Even the strongest Heroic Spirits couldn't keep it in existence for long.
"If we don't fight," Kai admitted, "then around ten minutes, perhaps? Maybe a touch longer…"
Lancer's eyes narrowed. "What are you up to?"
Kai replied by taking out a jar and two glasses with a wave of his hand. He poured wine into both glasses and put the jar back.
"You really think I would share a drink with my enemy?!" Lancer asked, laughing. "How…"
"It's not simple wine," Kai replied. "It's a wine brewed with the blood of a Legendary Po… Beast. Taste it. No matter how divine a mead you must have tasted before, I can bet my wine can surpass that feeling."
Lancer frowned at the claim. He looked at the wine resting in the glass. It looked like blood. It smelled like blood. Then it must taste like blood, too? Maybe a bit better, but better than a Divine Mead?!
Curious, Lancer held the glass up and sloshed the wine around before taking a sip.
And he couldn't open his eyes… the taste seeping into the seams of his soul. It almost tasted like… Mana… raw Mana… but better. Much more delicious.
Lancer could hear a rumble, as if a thunderstorm was brewing on the horizon.
He could hear a call — a roar of the beast — the lord of storms.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at the cup of wine, feeling better than ever — stronger than ever. "Good stuff…"
The corners of Kai's mouth arched up. "Thank you."
Lancer took another sip, marveling at the taste, and then put the glass down. "Alright," he said. "You win… whatever you are. Now, tell me. What are we doing here?"
Kai chuckled, sipping the wine himself.
"I am curious," he said. "What makes a Heroic Spirit like you, with your past, obey someone like Kirei Kotomine? Command Seals? No. We both are Servants… as long as we want to be… We won't exist without an anchor in this world, I agree. But that's never enough for us to not stand up to our ideals…"
Lancer stared at Berserker, his knuckles going white under the table. "You dare judge me for obeying my Master's commands? You?! If there's en evil in this world, then even it couldn't be viler than your Master… I have seen you two that night… Let's not go there."
"Alright, I wouldn't," Kai said, smiling. "Let me rephrase my question, then. Consider this… An evil man doing evil things will indisputably be called evil. Then… what should we call an evil man if he saves the world? Does the nature of the doer matter or the result? And if it's the result that separates good from evil, then…
"… shouldn't the evil man who saves the world be called a — Hero?"
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