In the dark streets of London, in a narrow city alley, Sergei Rybakov was sitting on the asphalt holding a notebook and a pencil. He was writing a poem. At that moment his Servant appeared and told him:
« This city will be wiped out by the Holy Grail War. »
« What do you deduce it from? » Asked Sergei annoyed for being disturbed.
« I perceive very strong Servants and even magi with great magical power. The matter is getting really dangerous. »
« If you say so … »
« You don't seem very attentive to my words. What are you writing? »
« A poem. »
« Are you a poet? »
« да. »
The Servant approached with his open hand to take the notebook but Sergei jumped up and exclaimed:
« Don't touch my stuff. This is my poem, it's doesn't concern you. »« I was curious to read it. »
« It doesn't concern you. »
« Why not? Are you afraid of being a bad poet, Master? »
Sergei put his notebook in the inside pocket of his brown leather jacket and, with a brusque manner, stepped forward with his shoulder to his Servant.
The man headed for the Grand Entrance of Hyde Park where, to his surprise, he met six men dressed in black suits carrying a large wooden crate in the park. The men hadn't noticed him, thankfully. Sergei's Servant came up behind him and whispered:
« I feel magical energy escaping from that crate. »
« What do you think it is? »
« It could be a great ceremonial object ... or a magic weapon. »
« A magic weapon? Do Masters use such large magical weapons? »« I never said it was a Master's weapon. »
« Do you think there are other people involved in this war? »
« There are always. »
Sergei Rybakov decided to sneak into the park to see what was in that crate. He followed the men in black, being careful not to make any noise. He saw those men stop on the banks of the Serpentine Road; the men opened the crate and pulled out four shovels and began digging a hole. One of the men, meanwhile, took out a gold chest which had some special decorations that reminded the branches of a tree. The chest was buried under the ground. The men covered the tracks well, making sure to compact the soil perfectly.
Sergei saw those people use a card through which they cast a spell that hid the evidence of their work. The men closed the crate, after having put away the shovels, and left.
Sergei decided to leave.
« Why didn't you get that golden chest back? » The Servant asked, once the two had left the park.
« Because I don't care. I'm not going to make the wrong people angry. I have a war to fight, I can't make other enemies. » He replied.
« As you wish, the responsibility is yours, Master. »
« I know, I don't need to hear it from you. »
At that moment both Sergei and his Servant saw, in the distance, Lancer jumping from one roof to another. Sergei, initially astonished to see that Lancer was still alive, asked his Servant:
« What should we do, in your opinion? »
« Lancer is going to fight. A battle awaits us, Master. »
« Do you want to have fun kicking some ass? »« I have no problems with that, Master. »
« So be it! пойдем на войну! »
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