Alright, let's get this show on the road.

For those of you wondering why THIs one's out and not some ofmy other ones, it's because the Harry Potter books are pretty much a linear plot that's already concluded. As such for someone like m,e, that likes t follow the source material as closely as possible, it's relatively easy to get everything together quicker.

Rest assured, I'm still working on my other works. Just clearing some brain space.

This one's a little long, but serves as a backstory to prior events, so run with it. If it borrows from the Fate/Zero prologue this was intentional, but i tried to avoid complete quotes for obvious reasons.

That said, on with the show!

Prologue: Ten Years Ago.

Let us tell the story of a certain man. The tale of a man who, more than anyone else, believed in his ideals, and yet was driven to despair by them.

The man's dream was pure, he wished for everyone in this world to be happy, a childish ideal that all young boys grow attached to at least once, one that they abandon when they grow accustomed to the mercilessness of reality, for any happiness requires a sacrifice, something all children learn when they become adults.

Emiya Kiritsugu was not like most adults.

Some would claim he was simply the most foolish of all, others that something fundamental within him was broken. In a bygone era, he may have called a 'Saint', entrusted with God's will to pass on to the common people.

Those people would certainly take offence to their so-called 'saint' killing people as remorselessly as Kiritsugu did.

It wasn't a profession that he took pride in, ever since he'd taken his first life, that of his heretical father, whose research in vampirism had not only disgraced the entire Emiya family, but had led to countless innocents, including one of Kiritsugu's childhood friends, being changed into one of the damned undead.

To be fair, Kiritsugu had more than avenged his line by killing the old man, an act that felt more vindicating than any other to date, but it didn't change the fact that from that moment, the moment he'd stood over his father's dead form, the pistol he'd swiped smoking in his hand, that his fate was set.

Fortunately, he hadn't been alone at that moment, or he may very well have turned the smoking barrel on himself. Natalia had been one of the many Enforcers sent by the Magus Association to deal with his father, who he later learned had received an infamous Sealing Designation for his illegal research. The woman had taken him in, giving him a home, and finally training him up to be a Freelancer, handling all the 'Dirty' jobs that the Church and the Mages Association didn't want to dip their fingers in, OFFICIALLY that is.

Despite only receiving 20% of his family's Thaumaturgical Crest, little more than the dregs really, Natalia had seen fit to train him to the best of her ability, focusing not only on his Magecraft, but other, more practical areas, such as tracking, assassination, and the handling, use and maintenance of all types of weaponry, ranging from firearms, explosives, even cyber warfare.

It was hardly what one could call an ideal childhood, but then the life of an apprentice is rarely pleasant, no matter WHAT profession they aspired themselves to be. However, strange as it was, he HAD been happy, Natalia had been more than just a mentor to him, she'd been the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother, a fact he'd been sure to tell her, even as he pressed the firing switch of the anti-aircraft gun that shot her, and the Airbus A300 jumbo jet she was trapped on with a Dead Apostle and his undead minions, out of the air.

Sure, in shooting the plane down, he'd saved countless millions of lives, but from that moment on he'd become disillusioned with his once iron-clad ideal of becoming a 'hero of justice', It was simply beyond mortal capabilities to save a person without sacrificing another, not even Magic could change that.

Despite being disillusioned, however, he'd pressed on, continuing to fight for a dream he KNEW was unattainable, refusing to surrender, as failure to do otherwise would mean everything he had given up, everything he had strived for, would have been in vain.

And so he kept killing and killing, tracking down those Mages that would abuse their gifts, those criminals that were so adept at covering their tracks not even the Enforcers or Executors from the Church could ferret them out without drawing attention to their respective organizations. He'd gotten so good at it that the Magus Association had gone so far to brand him a Magus Killer, a title which would've traditionally marked him for execution, were it not for the fact he as simply too useful to both them, and the Church's various 'disposal' branches to do away with. There was always a job too 'dirty' for them that could be dealt with by hiring and a hit man, and this way none of their OWN precious Enforcers need sully their hands.

Kiritsugu could've cared less, it simply meant he had access to better resources when it came to tracking down those that would misuse their gifts, it was simply a more efficient way to abate the grief in this world. It was ironic really, to save even one life, he would need to forsake, perhaps even END, another, for every person he saved, he found himself having to kill a smaller number of people.

He'd dyed his hands in blood so many times, never once flinching, never questioning the righteousness of his acts, nor ever doubting his goal, forcing himself to endlessly, faultlessly tip the scale, never misjudging the value of a life.

With no regard to the humility of one existence, and with no regard to its age, all lives were weighed evenly, without discrimination. This was how he saved lives, and also how he took them.

Or at least, that was how he wished to be, a soul-less, measuring machine, devoid of blood and tears, that was capable of finding value in everything with equal fairness, without loving anyone uniquely. But he found that any smile directed at him would fill his chest with pride, whole their wails and tears would make the foundations of his heart rock. Anger and resentment would make him question his judgments, many a time he'd shed tears at the unfairness of it all, how the loneliness had made him yearn for a single outstretched hand.

Around Eleven years ago, give or take the odd month, he had been hired by the von Einzbern family, an ancient Germanic Family of Mages that were renowned for their interest in one of the lost 'True' Magics, which they'd tenuously dubbed 'Heaven's Feel'.

He didn't know the specifics of it all; no true Magus would willingly divulge the secrets of their work, certainly not to an unaffiliated outsider, and a Magus Killer no less. All he knew was that every 60 years, a tournament was fought in a small city in his homeland of japan, between chosen Magi and summoned 'Heroic Spirits', all to gain control of the prize, the vaunted 'Holy Grail', which while not the original article, was just as valued, as it allowed the winner to lay claim to whatever wish they desired. ANY wish at all.

If he was to believe Einzbern's hype, the old man could care less about the wish itself, and was only really interested in winning the Grail. An understandable sentiment really, for despite being the ones to SUGGEST the tournament, and arguable the founders of it, the Einzbern's had never won a Grail War since the founding over 180 years prior.

This suited Kiritsugu just fine, the Magus Killer would be more than happy to use such a powerful force in their stead, hell the moment he heard of the Grails Powers he'd been sold, seeing it as a chance to bring about World Peace, allowing him to become a TRUE hero of Justice. And all he had to do was enter as a 'Master', whilst protecting the 'True' Einzbern participant.

It was then that he'd been introduced to Irisviel.

From the moment he'd laid eyes on her, Kiritsugu could tell the beautiful woman wasn't human. No mere mortal could have skin so fair, hair so white, eyes so red, like two glittering rubies in the snow. Were it not for her lack of wings and a halo, and his complete lack of faith in some higher power, Kiritsugu would have sworn there and then she was an angel.

He didn't know what particular role Irisviel played a key role in the proceedings, simply that she was important to the War, and that protecting her was one of the reasons he'd been brought in to 'stack the odds', as it were, in the Einzbern's favor.

Kiritsugu could've cared less for their reasoning, all he knew was that he loved the beautiful snow fairy that made every second he spent in that dark, frozen castle worth living.

It was Irisviel that taught him he was capable of love. Ironic that a Homunculus, a doll created from magic and alchemy, should be the one to remind him of what it meant to be a man, but it was a lesson he deeply desired, one that he would reaffirm again, and again, numerous times, savoring her company, just as she, in turn, savored his.

And then, Eight years ago, Irisviel had given birth to a child, THEIR Child.

It was a rarity, an event that had never been chronicled in the history of the Einzbern family. Homunculi, particularly those created by the family, were not created with reproductive capabilities, by all rights Irisviel shouldn't have even been able to conceive a child, let alone carry it to term. Yet she had, and Kiritsugu now found himself in the position many a man both eagerly awaited and dreaded to find themselves in: A Parent.

How should he act around this small, fragile life? How could he dare to sully her beautiful innocence with his stained, bloody hands? Were it not for Irisviel, Kiritsugu doubted he'd have had the courage to even HOLD his infant daughter the first time he'd laid eyes on her, by all rights he didn't deserve to.

But then the infant girl opened her eyes, the same beautiful red eyes she shared with her mother, and stared at him with such innocence and wonder, and Kiritsugu could not help but weep for joy.

That had been eight years ago, Illyasviel was no longer an infant, but the love she felt for her parents, and the love they felt for HER, had not changed from the moment Kiritsugu first held her in his arms, and that fact terrified him to his core.

Kiritsugu was no fool, he knew for sure that he'd committed far too many sins, burned far too many bridges, to delude himself with the delusion that such a life would be forever. Sooner or later the Magus Association would make a move on him, and he harbored no delusions as to whether or not the Einzbern's would come to his aid if it happened AFTER the Grail War. There was nothing for him to do but WIN the damned thing, win, and then wish for a world where Illyasviel could grow up without having to worry about the evils of Human kind.

He'd already summoned his 'Servant', Saber, using one of Einzbern's most coveted relics, the holy sheath Avalon. It had been their intention for him to summon a Saber class servant, regarded as the strongest combat Servant of the three Knight classes, personally, Kiritsugu would have preferred to summon a Caster or Assassin class, as they were more in line with his style of combat, but he had to agree with the old man on this one. If you wanted something, get the best, and who better to assume the role of Saber than the King of Knights, the Greatest King of Britain, said to be the embodiment of a Dragon?

So naturally, you could imagine the group reaction when a small, slip of a girl, albeit one dressed in armour over her blue and white dress, appeared in the summoning array.

Not wanting to grow attached, Kiritsugu had refused to speak to her, refused to LOOK at her, in all honesty, he treated the Heroic Spirit as if she'd never been summoned. So far as he was concerned, she was a weapon, and only an insane man speaks to his weapon.

In any case, it was for the greater good that the two of them didn't interact, as Kiritsugu highly doubted a noble warrior like King Arthur, or Arturia as she was apparently called, would approve of his usual modus operandi, namely sneaking around in the dark, killing his targets with extreme, often overly so, prejudice, much like his most recent job.

It was several weeks after he'd summoned Sabre when he was contacted by the Mages Association regarding a suspected Magus with a Sealing Designation hiding out in a small suburban area in Surrey. Now normally he would have told them he was already under contract with the Einzbern's and refused, however he'd accepted, and had booked the first flight over to England to carry out the hit.

There were a number of reasons for this, the most important being that, by accepting the job, he basically gave himself an alibi of not being anywhere NEAR the Einzberns, meaning he could waylay any suspicions as to his role in the upcoming war.

Of course it didn't help that the target was a noted child molester whose research into immortality had involved kidnaped children. Grail War or not there was no way in hell Kiritsugu was letting someone else after the monster and risk him scuttling off into the night.

Kiritsugu stood over the corpse of his target, watching with passionless eyes for any sign that the bastard had survived, as unlikely as it was, not many people can survive taking a .30-06 rifle bullet to the chest, never mind one of his patented 'Origin Bullets', designed to turn the magic circuits of the target against them, but as a Freelancer he knew all too well that just because you killed something, that didn't mean it was dead. A fine example would be Dead Apostles, or even better, the True Ancestors, though to his knowledge the latter were nigh extinct with the exception of their princess, and nobody had a damn clue where SHE was.

In any case, it didn't seemed this particular Magus had been particularly successful in his attempts at Immortality, which meant all Kiritsugu had to do was send a quick call to the Magus Association, have them Wire his pay to his account, then pretend to take a holiday whilst instead booking a plane back to Germany, knowing how backwards the Association was when it came to technology, they'd simply assume he decided to stick around to enjoy a nice little holiday in Britain.

'In November? Not likely.' He muttered, snorting dismissively as he crouched down to check the corpse's pulse, never can be too certain after all, only to reaffirm that the target was indeed dead as a doornail when he felt a slight tingle wash over him as the bounded field the monster had placed over the house drop with its master's death.

Getting to his feet with a sigh, the Magus Killer was considering using the bastard's phone to contact his employee when he felt the slight disturbance in the air that usually accompanied an Apparition. Backing up against the wall, he peered, cautiously, out the window, which he noted with approval granted a good view of the entire drive, his eyes narrowing as he espied the man that had appeared at the corner of the street, dressed in an outfit that looked like it had gone out of style when MERLIN was young.

He was tall, thin, and judging by the length of his silvery hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt, VERY old. While most Magi were a little out-dated when it came to clothing, preferring the styles that were popular when their forebears were young, this elderly fellow went the extra mile by wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. 'Okay..' he muttered, unable to help the bead of sweat that dripped from his brow as he gaped at the elderly man in disbelief 'And here I thought old man Einzbern was old-fashioned…compared to this loony those ruffled shirts of his might as well be the latest trend.

Of course he knew who the old codger was, you didn't live long in this line of work without developing a veritable 'rogues gallery', or without bumping shoulders with several important figures. Either way, there was no mistaking those twinkling blue eyes, or the nose that lay beneath them, which had been broken twice by the look of it, one of which he knew for a FACT had been the result of a 'disagreement' between the man and old man Acht, a fact the Einsbern head was rather fond of recalling.

'Albus Dumbledore.' Kiritsugu muttered, relaxing his stance slightly, though he didn't relax his grip on grip on the Thompson-Contender, keeping his Mystic Code ready for any eventuality, watching with suspicion as the twinkle-eyed bastard, as old man Acht was so fond of calling him, pulled a silver cigarette lighter out from his robes, pausing only to chukle in the direction of a suspicious looking cat, which Kiritsugu had noticed watching the house next door earlier while he waited for his target to come home.

Flicking the device open, the aged wizard held it in the air and clicked it, causing the nearest street lamp went out with a pop. He repeated this process twelve times, bathing the street in darkness save for the two pinpricks of light which belonged to the cat, which Kiritsugu could only make out thanks to his night-vision, gained through his chosen profession, and by reinforcing his vision to see in the dark, his eyes narrowing further as the tabby shifted into a tall, severe looking woman with square-rimmed spectacles, dressed almost identically to the wizard, save her cloak was emerald in colour, and she wore her black hair in a tight bun at the back of her head.

'British mages…' he muttered, shaking his head in disgust at how anally retentive Sabre's people had become. Despite its long, established history, the British Wizarding world was considered a bit of a joke amongst the international community. The damn fools still went around dressed as if Merlin was still walking around. No self-respecting Mage, or at least one with no pressing desire to be burnt at the stake, would be caught dead in such out dated clothing. It Practically SCREAMED magic. Plus they looked damn hard to run in, and as many of his targets had learned, style and grace can't beat the ability to sprint long distance without tripping over yourself.

'Wonder what they're up to…' he muttered, narrowing his eyes as he reinforced his hearing, allowing himself to listen in on the conversation as the stern-faced woman ranted on.

"…Flocks of owls… shooting stars…Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent." Here she scoffed derisively "I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them." Dumbledore soothed, his eyes twinkling in amusement, causing Kiritsugu to understand just why old man Acht had broken the man's nose "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

Kiritsugu grimaced, knowing all too well what the man was on about. For the past Eleven years, the British Wizarding World had been under threat from a Dark Lord that had been calling himself Voldemort. The man was, quite frankly, mad as a hatter, preaching pure-blood supremacy that the more inbred families lapped up like mother's milk, feeding on paranoia, even going so far as to jinx his own name so that speaking it would allow his minions to track anyone brave enough to say it and wipe them out.

Kiritsugu had actually been hired a number of times to take down a few of his more…interesting colleagues, but generally hadn't gotten involved with the effort to defeat the little tit. For one thing, it was a British affair, which meant it fell within the jurisdiction of the Clock Tower, for another, the Dark Lord had wisely decided to avoid mainland Europe, or indeed ANY of the Magical countries outside the British Isles, who'd learned their lessons from Grindlewald and weren't about to let some upstart with fresh ideas try his luck.

Kiritsugu had been out of the loop for a while thanks to his preparations for the Fourth Heaven's Feel, but from last he'd heard the war with Voldemort had been going rather badly. It was quite a surprise to hear the little tit was GONE.

"The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around." The woman, a McGonagall apparently, pointed out, sending Dumbledore a sharp look as he sucked away at a lemon drop "You know what they're saying? About WHY he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

Kiritsugu couldn't help it, he felt his ears prick up and his shoulders tense as he leant against the wall, listening eagerly for the latest news. It might be old-news by now, especially if the locals were celebrating so vehemently, but as any Freelancer worth their Mystic Code knew, knowledge was power, and knowledge about the fate of a Dark Lord could fetch a high price.

"What they're saying," McGonagall pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are…that they're dead." She gasped at Dumbledore's bowed head "Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it…Oh, Albus…"

Kiritsugu suppressed the urge to scowl at the woman, it would serve no purpose and giving way to emotion was a good way to blow your cover. Nonetheless, having to wait for her to compose herself was trying is patience. "That's not all." She continued, voice trembling "They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke, and that's why he's gone."

Now Kiritsugu had to blink, this time, however, it was from actual surprise. From what he'd heard, this Voldemort bastard was supposed to be the biggest menace since Grindlewald, who was no pushover himself. Old man Acht had even gone so far to praise some of his more notable exploits, though he knew first-hand the old man would sooner DIE than let the little prick set one foot on mainland soil.

To find out the man had been offed by a child, a year-old babe in arms at that, was a shocker, though it still didn't explain why two wizards were sitting out in the open, albeit at night, in a decidedly MUNDANE part of Britain. Other than his target, there wasn't a single magical resident, a question which McGonagall soon posed, much to his relief, only to react violently, to say the least, when Dumbledore admitted he was intending to deliver the toddler to his relatives.

"You can't mean the people who live here?" the woman exclaimed, literally jumping to her feet, back arched like a startled cat as she pointed an accusing finger at the house next door "Albus you can't! I've been watching them all day, you couldn't find two people who are less like us." Her face marred with disgust "And they've got this son, I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets! Harry Potter, come to live HERE?"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

'Oh yeah, like THAT'LL go down well.' Kiritsugu muttered, once again supressing the urge to snort as he eyed the old coot with a new look in his eyes, the one he reserved for people that were clearly off their rocker, a sentiment that McGonagall apparently shared with the old coot, though he managed to calm her down after a few grandfatherly words, Kiritsugu figuring he might as well ignore the rest of the conversation, only for a low rumbling sound to break the otherwise silence of the darkened street, growing steadily louder, the Magus Hunter's eyes widening as a huge motorcycle, ridden by an even LARGER man, fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

'Holy Shit, its Namahage!' the Magus hunter exclaimed, unable to help the slight jolt as he eyed the massive, bearded figure riding the equally monstrous bike. The brute was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide, with a veritable mane of bushy black hair and beard which hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. Were it not for the small bundle of blankets in his arms, Kiritsugu would have sworn it was indeed the infamous, child-eating ogre of his native land come to life.

He was roused from his thoughts courtesy of the giant man, who loosed a howl not unlike a wounded dog, prompting McGonagall to hiss at him, for fear of waking the locals. He watched, with a hint of wonderment, as Dumbledore stepped up to the threshold, baby saviour in his arms, no doubt intending to rouse his target's neighbours, hand their nephew over and be done with it, only for his eyes to widen in shock as the old man laid the bundle gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside the toddler's blankets, and then marched back to the other two, the giant man riding off on his motorbike and McGonagall slinking off as a cat, Dumbledore pausing only to restore the street lamps to normal, before turning on his heel and vanishing with a swirl of his cloak.

'Wait…the hell?' Kiritsugu exclaimed, the infamous Magus Killer unable to believe what he'd just seen with his own two eyes. It simply defied reason, what kind of irresponsible adults would just abandon a BABY on a doorstep in the middle of November? True it wasn't particular cold tonight, even for a British winter, but all the kid had to his name was a blanket, not even a basket to ward off the worst of the chill, just a letter from a doddering old man that couldn't be arsed to make sure the kid was in his relatives care before apparating off to get pissed or whatever term the British used for drinking themselves under the table.

'Unbelievable…' he muttered, shaking his head in disgust, even as he finally tucked his Mystic Code away, resisting the urge to fire a few rounds into the corpse on the floor, as it'd be a waste of ammo and without the Bounded Field the noise would alert the Neighbours "Kid basically hauls their asses out of the fire and they turn round and dump him on his Mundane relatives?"

Truth be told, Kiritsugu had done his research prior to making the hit, and knew first hand the kind of people that lived on the man's street. They were all boring, normal people that lived boring, normal lives and went out of their way to hate anything that opposed their perfect, boring little world. The ones living next door were the worst, the Husband was a large, walrus like man with no neck, his wife a skinny, giraffe-like horror that liked to spy on her neighbours, and they'd somehow spawned a brat that resembled a pig in a wig, and all three of them reacted violently to anything that wasn't as 'normal' as them.

'Either he'll freeze to death out here or he'll be shoved in a closet the minute he's in there.' Kiritsugu muttered, marching out the door, making sure to leave no trace of his presence, before marching up to Number 4, scooping up the little bundle, intent on taking him to the proper authorities, only to freeze as the baby stirred, looking down just as the little eyes opened, causing him to gaze into twin pools of dazzling emerald.

Time seemed to stop, a feeling Kiritsugu was all too familiar with, considering his branch of magic, the Magus Killer gazing into the infant eyes of the child who, even know, was going down in History as 'The Boy Who Lived', taking in the small, pale face, topped with a tuft of jet-black hair, beneath which rested a curiously shaped scar, like a bolt of lightning.

Then the moment passed, the emerald eyes closed, and the year-old baby settled back to sleep, apparently comforted by the man's presence.

Kiritsugu stood in silence for a moment, lost in wonderment at what he'd just experienced, looking from the baby to the letter and the door to number 4 Privet drive, before scowling, his dark eyes like thunderclouds in the night.

'To hell with it.' He muttered, taking the letter from Dumbledore and shoving it in his pocket, making a mental note to have old man Acht check it for traps even as he marched away from the house and down the street to where he'd hidden his car 'He deserves better than this…and Irisviel DID say she'd like to give Ilya some siblings…'

Throughout it all, Harry James Potter simply rolled over in his blankets and slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, unaware that he'd been spared a lifetime of abuse and ridicule at the hands of his Aunt's family, while people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses in his name.

He simply slept on, safe in the arms of one of the deadliest men on the planet, unaware of the change that had been made in his destiny.

Well, there we go. Again, apologies for the length, backstory is hard to summarize.

For those of you out that saw the preview chapter, you probably already know what's going to happen next. No i WON't be flahing back to the Grail war, it'll skip straight to the actual story which you read already in the preview.

As you can see, Jubstacheit REALLY doesn't like Dumbles, and is persoally responsible for the two times the old twinkler's nose has been broken in the past. A fact that gives him IMMENSE satisfaction.

Seeing the chance to pull one over on the 'twinkle-eyed schweinhund', as he 'affectionately' refers to Dumbles, he took in the 'boy who lived', brought him up as a means of controlling Illyasviel, and then turned him into a living 'Weapon' in order to seize the 5th Heaven's feel, which, as we all know, didn't quite fall through.

Again, for those who DIDN'T read the preview chapter, Harry will NOT be God Mode in this, Alchemy has it's limitations, though his Array negates the most important of them, the need of transmutation circles. He WILL, however, be entering into the Wizarding World with a better understanding of what he's capable off, so don't expect him to be dragged around by the shorthairs.

I'm debating putting him in Slytherin or Ravenclaw, for the simple fact that, as a result of his upbringing, he's unsuited for Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Truth be told, I'm leaning more towards Slytherin, as the Einzberns have a bit of a reputation of being 'dark' wizards, though not necesarrily EVIL.

Pairings are undecided at the moment, as I'm hesitant to remove anyone from Shirou's Harem, which canonically includes Rin, Saber (Who will be making a reappearance later on), Sakura, Rider (proven in Hollow Attraxia), Illyasviel (She's EIGHTEEN PEOPLE!) and quite possibly Taiga (she's possessive enough, though i may pair her with Sirius later for the sheer crack potential). I may also introduce Rider's sisters, Stheno and Euryale, later, as well as Mordred, Arturia's 'son', though this is undecided as of yet.

Other than that, the story will follow the basic plot as the books, and may cross with Tsukihime later, depending on the flow.

Like it? Hate it? Review to let me know!