Summoning the Abyss

The First Master: Abyss

She woke with the taste of ash on her tongue.

The wind howled through the ruined streets, carrying whispers of lives long forgotten. Abyss stood in the center of an abandoned cathedral, her fingers wrapped around a dagger carved with runes that no longer held meaning.

Her body moved on instinct. The ritual had already begun.

A circle, drawn in blood and ink, pulsed beneath her feet. Blue flames danced along the edges, consuming the symbols and letters one by one.

"I call upon thee, warrior of the void... Answer my call."

There was no need for incantations, no need for hesitation. The moment she spoke, the world bent to her will.

A gust of wind erupted from the center of the circle, and for a moment, the cathedral was swallowed by darkness.

Then—a single blue flame ignited.

It burned in the shape of a star, flickering before spreading outward. From the abyss, a figure emerged.

She was clad in black, her coat flowing like shadows against the wind. A single blue eye burned with an otherworldly fire, flickering as she took her first step forward. Her presence was overwhelming—a warrior who had known nothing but battle.

Abyss met her gaze, unflinching.

"Are you my Master?"

The words were spoken without emotion, yet they carried a weight that could crush a weaker soul.

Abyss smiled.

"Yes. And you are my sword."

Thus, Saber—Black Rock Shooter—was summoned into the Abyssal Grail War.

---

The Second Master: Lucian Orsova

Across the city, in a high-rise skyscraper still standing amidst the ruins, Lucian Orsova stood before a ritual chamber lined with golden artifacts and ancient tomes.

The air smelled of incense and electricity as he pressed his palm against the summoning circle, the sigils flaring to life.

"From the depths of time, from the abyss of battle, I summon thee!"

The moment the final word left his lips, lightning struck the rooftop.

The power surged through the chamber, shattering glass and scorching the marble floor. And from the storm, a figure stepped forth.

She was tall, powerful, her crimson eyes glowing beneath a jagged crown. A wicked blade rested on her shoulder, its edge gleaming like obsidian.

Lucian straightened his tie, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Lancer, I presume?"

Black Gold Saw nodded once, lifting her weapon in silent acknowledgment.

And with that, the first battle had already begun.

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The Third Master: Father Elias

Deep within the ruins of an ancient cathedral, Father Elias stood before a shattered altar.

The moon cast a pale light through the broken stained glass, illuminating the summoning circle carved into the stone floor.

His hands trembled as he held the ceremonial dagger, pressing its tip against his palm.

"May the heavens judge my soul... May the divine grant me strength..."

Blood dripped onto the sigils. The air grew heavy. The shadows deepened.

And then, wings of pure light unfolded before him.

A figure clad in white armor, her bow drawn with an arrow of ethereal energy, stood before him. Her eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto his.

"Archer... I am your Master," Elias breathed.

White Rock Shooter lowered her bow slightly, the glow of her arrow fading.

"Then let us bring judgment upon this cursed war."

---

The War Begins

One by one, the Masters called their Servants. The war was set into motion.

Rider—Chariot—was summoned amidst a storm of fire, her mechanical steed roaring with anticipation.

Assassin—Dead Master—emerged from the depths of a forgotten graveyard, her skeletal hands wrapping around her twin scythes.

Berserker—Strength—broke free from her summoning circle with a monstrous roar, the ground beneath her shattering.

Alter—Insane Black Rock Shooter—did not step forth so much as she was released, her presence alone warping the world around her.

But then—something went wrong.

A rift opened in the heart of the city.

Not a summoning circle. Not a ritual.

A tear in reality itself.

And from it, a final figure emerged.

She did not belong to any Master. She was not bound by any contract.

Her presence alone sent a shiver down the spines of all who bore witness.

Her golden eyes gleamed like a god's.

Her voice echoed through the ruined world.

"I am the beginning and the end."

The Empress had arrived.

And the war was no longer as it should be.

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To Be Continued...