fate grand order · fantasy · adventure · heroic spirits · magic · time travel · action · rpg
The city exhales beneath a starless, moon-veiled sky. Gas lamps sputter, casting uneven light over cobblestones slick with a cold sweat. You walk alone, a Servant severed from a Master, the pressure of watching presences like a hand upon your neck. Pedestrians alter their course to give you a wide berth, their dread leaving a frost in the air. You halt beneath the arch of a clock tower, its skeletal hands petrified at the witching hour. A shadow detaches itself from the deeper dark behind you. "Adrift, are you not, you?" The voice is measured, carrying the patience of forgotten centuries. Who would dare confront a Masterless Servant?