She was a hero, through and through. She didn’t care what happened to herself; in fact, she wanted to consign her final thoughts with God. But somewhere, in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but worry. It felt like a fishhook lodged in her brain, steadily reeling her back from the brink. It tore away each and every thought she had on any other subject and rapidly shift her attention to it. She was a hero to her people... so she could never stop worrying about the hearts of her people. These troublesome thoughts caused her no end of guilt. She had always been so courageous, so full of faith in her life. She had railed against those who let themselves be consumed by doubt. So why was she thinking about them instead of the God she served? She couldn’t help herself, though: if they went down a dark path and lost their faith, who then would be around to lift them up? Who would protect them and strengthen their faith when she was gone? What was to become of their very souls?

From this outpouring of concern for others a dying wish arose. It burned with a golden fire and cast out all of the darkness surrounding her. It shone brightly over countless years, only intensifying as she became a legend in her people’s eyes. Soon she was reborn into a being so much powerful than she was before: a Heroic Spirit.

Knowledge poured over her with an overwhelming surge. She not only knew these things but understood them in the very depths of her soul. The Holy Grail War, Magi, Masters, Servants, Noble Phantasms—all of these became second-nature to her, and she could scarcely remember what it was like to know nothing of them. She understood that years must have been passing by her as she grew in strength and wisdom, but the years were like drops of rain to her. In fact, it felt like mere seconds had passed. Now she was being summoned. Had she an eyebrow at the time, she would have raised it in contempt at her soul being forced into a vessel known as Assassin. Sure, she had killed someone in life, but it felt rather tasteless to be branded as such. “Thou shalt not kill”, she mused to herself. But while she had certainly violated that during her life, she wasn’t the sort who did such a thing on a regular basis. This felt like such a terrible fit for a woman of such profound faith. But like before, if she needed to sully her hands in order to safeguard the faith of her people, then she would have to surrender herself to this most peculiar fate. What’s more, she needed to win.

Now it was just a matter of materializing and forming a pact with her Master, whoever that may turn out to be. Her mind flooded with more knowledge, this time telling her everything she needed to know about the culture, history, and technology of the place and age at which she was to be summoned. While this was happening, she felt herself being dragged by her head and heart toward the location of the Holy Grail War. But suddenly, she felt another force tugging her in a completely different direction…]

[action: the bay]

[Her eyes popped open. Had the summoning been completed successfully? She couldn’t tell right away. What’s more, the memories she was supposed to receive were damaged somewhat. Exactly what was broken or missing she couldn’t tell, but she knew she wasn’t working from a complete basis of knowledge. With a sense of urgency, she quickly sat up—only to smash her forehead against the lid of what appeared to be a coffin of sorts. She fell back down and rubbed her head; that was certainly an unpleasant way to awaken. She began to take in her surroundings. Between the silver and silk, it seemed as if no expense had been spared for her funeral. Of course, she mused, that might have been the case if she weren’t a Servant.

He felt a strange weight atop her chest—not particularly heavy, but peculiar in its location. She reached up and felt some sort of box. She couldn’t exactly tell what was inside, seeing how it was pitch-black inside this cocoon. Getting out would be problematic, as well: she didn’t know what the battlefield would be like on the outside of that box. Perhaps a little reconnaissance was in order. She concealed herself from both physical and supernatural senses before slowly working her way out of the cocoon. The bay seemed hauntingly serene, but she couldn’t identify any major threat. She certainly couldn’t sense any other Servants at this time. She breathed a silent sigh of relief and lay back down in the cocoon. She relaxed her concealment and allowed herself to be sensed physically, but she still concealed her aura and magical identity. Until she found her Master and could retreat to safety, none could know she was a Servant.

As the thought of her Master crossed her mind, she sat up and observed once more. She wasn’t the only one present and there certainly were several mages in the surrounding regions, but nobody stood out distinctly as a Master. She didn’t see any summoning circle, either, which made her a little concerned. She wondered who it was that brought her here. The problem was, she couldn’t exactly go up to someone and ask them. This seemed to be a fairly public space, which was even stranger for such an important summoning. So it was entirely possible that enemy Masters or even full-on civilians could be in the area. If she asked the wrong person, it could be quite catastrophic. No; it would be better to wait.

Assassin adjusted her position and pulled her knees in. Now she could better examine the contents of her box. Perhaps her Master had left instructions or desired to operate from a distance. That would make sense given this public venue, but she would still need to confirm the Master/Servant contract. She began pulling things out of the box in search of clues. He instinctively grabbed the necklace and slipped it on; after that, she took the phone and searched its contents. There didn’t appear to be any messages for her, nor were there any contacts stored in it. She bypassed the key, since there didn’t seem to be anything with a lock nearby. The pamphlet, however, held the first answers of the day. So, this place was “Genessia”, huh? She mouthed the words as she read them. She didn’t understand, though: was she supposed to live here? She was given money for food and other supplies, but as a Servant she didn’t need any such things herself. Perhaps this “commonspace” was a hideout or fortification where she might find her Master. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she might be completely wrong about all of that. She couldn’t make any assumptions just yet.

There were so many questions left unanswered. She was almost dizzy from the buzzing of them. The location of her Master was one; another was what any of this had to do with the Holy Grail War. Many other things occurred to her and bothered her, but eventually she just had to shut them all out of her mind. Until she found more clues, she would have to focus on her surroundings. She noticed that people were exiting their cocoons, and while some left for parts unknown, others stayed. Several people were still milling around; some fiddled with their devices, while others were more in the moment.

In particular, one girl caught her attention. She was so young, and she was bawling her eyes out. Assassin had mixed feelings about displays such as these. She wished that people in general had more faith and could trust God during trying times such as these. As worried as she herself was, she wasn’t about to doubt Him. But at the same time, her heart broke for this young child. Her conscience began to pull her feet forward, and soon she found herself approaching the youth in question. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if, being was she was, she even had the right to do this. But in the end, it wasn’t the hand of a killer but that of a saint that she stretched out to the child. She bent down to the child’s eye level as she began to speak.]

It’s okay, sweet child. You’ve gone through something terrible, haven’t you? It must be scary waking up in a place like this. I’m so sorry for you. Just let it all out, though—you can lean on me if you’re having trouble standing.

[She waited a while and observed the child. The poor dear needed sympathy and the chance to exhaust her tears and sorrow. For now, questions and assistance would have to wait.]