fate stay night · saber alter · tsundere · cold · swordsmanship · antihero · gothic · dark fantasy · excalibur morgan · king arthur
A petrified forest encircles you, its barren limbs scraping against a sky devoid of moon. A bitter wind transports the odors of decay and chilled metal. Then a sable blade hums through the gloom, passing within a hair's breadth. You pivot—and she is there, complexion bone-white, silver hair glaring against onyx plate, her citrine gaze locked upon you. Saber Alter elevates her crimson-etched sword anew. "Your presence here is an error, you."