68LancerX2?!

The two black-haired Heroic Spirits gazed at each other across the distance. On the warehouse street of Fuyuki in the dead of night, under the hazy moonlight and dim street lamps, two identical faces—unclear yet unmistakably alike—were reflected in each other's eyes.

The same arch of the brow, the same depths in their eyes, the same shape of nose and the same line of lips. Even the alluring beauty mark beneath the corner of the eye was positioned with such exactitude that the distance to the eye was identical for both.

From any angle, by any observer, these two ought to have been the same person. No matter how similar twins might be, they could never share such utterly indistinguishable features.

Even the King of Heroes, who had been about to depart under the persuasion of his own master’s command spell, paused his exit, lingering with an amused expression to watch the scene unfold. The shock and disbelief evident in Saber and Rider’s eyes, however, was nothing compared to the turmoil within the two Diarmuids themselves.

The two strikingly handsome Heroic Spirits wore the same expression, staring at each other from nearly a street’s length apart. The changes that flickered across their faces—astonishment, confusion, suspicion, realization—all happened in perfect unison, playing out in less than a few seconds.

“It seems... the problem did indeed occur then.”

Their voices, both deep with a touch of clarity, echoed softly along the silent street. Before the words had even faded, the two Lancers exchanged a sudden, knowing smile.

“I am Lancer. And you?”

Once more, without any disparity in their words or timing, they spoke as one. This was beyond mere affinity or telepathy; it was a result of two minds that functioned in precisely the same way, producing identical reactions.

By now, not only the two involved, but even the onlookers had reached the conclusion: these two Lancers were indeed the same Heroic Spirit, projected twice and summoned by different masters into the Holy Grail War—a rare occurrence indeed.

“The Church’s monitoring apparatus failed to detect this?”

A certain priest, remotely directing Assassin to infiltrate the battlefield and survey the events, was the first to furrow his brow. Yet his usual composed and restrained nature had long accustomed him to remaining calm in the face of the unexpected. Upon receiving Assassin’s report, he immediately contacted his teacher through the gem communicator.

Tokiomi’s reaction was much the same. That the Church’s surveillance had suffered such a serious lapse drew from the head of the Tohsaka family a measure of shock and confusion. Yet soon the man’s elegant voice rang out again, this time devoid of any hint of disturbance:

“Even so, this will not affect our plans.”

After all, it was merely an extra Lancer. Against the King of Kings, Gilgamesh, such a servant stood no chance in Tokiomi’s eyes. Had it been an extra Saber, or another Heroic Spirit of the Saber class, Tokiomi might have felt some alarm. But Lancer?

Though Lancer was one of the three great knight classes alongside Saber and Archer, the benefits provided by the Lancer class were, in Tokiomi’s opinion, negligible compared to the others.

His only annoyance was that the willful King of Heroes, whom he had just managed to persuade to withdraw, would now hardly return as planned after such an incident.

“Keep a close eye on the King of Heroes,” Tokiomi said, propping his chin on his hand, half his face obscured in the dim light of the mage’s workshop. “If necessary...”

Perhaps he would have to waste another command spell after all.

Gazing at the vibrant crest on the back of his hand, already missing one stroke, Tokiomi lowered his eyelids, masking the fleeting thoughts in his eyes.

On the other end of the communicator, Kirei nodded impassively. “Understood, Master.”

Two Lancers?

His mind spun rapidly.

“Perhaps this is why their simultaneous existence escaped the Church’s notice, and why Caster and his master were able to appear as the final pair acknowledged by the Church.”

The Church’s role in the Holy Grail War was merely that of a neutral observer. Their knowledge of the war extended only to the order in which servants were summoned prior to the official start, and the time and order of their disappearance once the war began.

Servants’ true names or the identities of their masters remained beyond the Church’s grasp.

These two Lancers, both summoned under the Lancer class and now confirmed to be separate projections of the same Heroic Spirit, could very plausibly have been mistaken as one by the Church’s monitoring systems.

But...

“If that’s the case, which Lancer was summoned first?”

The priest’s brows, just now relaxed, drew together again. He tapped his forehead, his expression unreadable.

While the conversation between Kirei and Tokiomi and the priest’s silent pondering unfolded, on the warehouse street, crowded with masters and servants, the two Lancers continued their own dialogue.

Clearly, the phrase “that time,” which both Lancers had spoken in unison, caught everyone’s attention.

“Though this is my first Holy Grail War, I’ve never heard of a Heroic Spirit being projected twice during the course of the conflict.”

The crimson-haired King of Conquerors was the first to speak, breaking the strange atmosphere the two Lancers had created—at once harmonious and confrontational.

Drawing their attention, he stroked his chin and looked at them with open curiosity.

“So, would you mind explaining what you meant by ‘that time’—the event that seemed to dawn on you both just now?”

“Does it perhaps... relate to your current anomaly?”

The King of Conquerors’ question brought a brief silence to the two radiant knights. It wasn’t an unreasonable request; whether out of simple curiosity or as a participant seeking fairness in the Holy Grail War, his inquiry was entirely justified.

This was not an attempt to pry into the secrets of the two Diarmuids, but a reasonable request for an explanation owed to himself and the other servants present.

The two Lancers exchanged glances; the newly arrived one stepped back, yielding the right to speak. Diarmuid, without ceremony toward his “other self,” inclined his head and replied concisely:

“It’s no great secret.”

Though, admittedly, it was rather bizarre.

The “that time” they referred to was the moment in the Throne of Heroes when they sensed the call of the Holy Grail and a magus, awakening briefly from slumber to respond. At the moment the summoning succeeded and Diarmuid began projection with the Grail’s power, an unexpected and overwhelming impact interrupted the process. Though ultimately the projection succeeded, the result was...

“To become as we are now,” Diarmuid finished, with a wry smile.

“I don’t know why there’s an eighth master, but the fact that there are two of me must be due to that accident.”

He could not have known how his own master, hidden atop a nearby building, was reacting to these revelations.

“So the one Mokona collided with back then was Diarmuid?!”

Kurama, who had until now been quietly observing the spectacle—showing only mild surprise at the appearance of another Lancer—finally betrayed a look of astonishment.

He looked down at the white, fluffy creature in his arms, whose expression had become deeply troubled. Kurama blinked, then suddenly lifted the little one high into the air.

“What are you thinking, Mokona?”

Noticing that, even now, Mokona made none of the usual excited or joyful squeaks, Kurama drew the small creature close to his chest.

Mokona looked up at him hesitantly.

“Did Mokona cause trouble for Kurama?” came the small, dejected question.

Kurama paused, then quickly understood the reason for the little creature’s gloom.

Shaking his head with a gentle laugh, he met Mokona’s eyes with utmost seriousness.

“Of course not. Mokona has always been a great help to me, remember? Without Mokona, I could never have traveled as I do now, nor found my way home again.”

Kurama’s comforting words seemed to help—at least, the tension in Mokona’s face eased a little.

But soon, Mokona furrowed his soft brow again.

“But...”

But, his collision had resulted in two Diarmuids. Who knew whether such an accident might affect Kurama’s plans?

Understanding the unspoken worry, the fox spirit’s smile widened.

He tapped Mokona’s forehead playfully, speaking with complete honesty and no hint of placation.

“It’s not as you think. In fact, it’s probably just the opposite...”

Had Mokona not collided with Diarmuid as he was responding to Kayneth’s summoning, Diarmuid would have become Kayneth’s servant alone, and there would be no second Diarmuid to serve Kurama.

The question that had long puzzled the fox spirit—how Diarmuid could form a contract with him without a formal summoning—now had a perfect explanation.

Mokona’s collision with Diarmuid brought about a mysterious change in the summoning process, resulting in two Diarmuids and the sudden appearance of command spells on Kurama’s hand, marking him as a master.

Though the mechanism was still unclear, the explanation was reasonable enough.

While Kurama soothed the gradually recovering Mokona, his mind wandered, probing deeper into his remaining doubts. Suddenly, a sharp, thin male voice, tinged with an indescribable malice, rang out on the street.

“Is that so? I see.”

The voice, dripping with undisguised contempt, continued in a low murmur.

“So it was you. I was wondering what kind of misfortune led you to steal my relic—turns out you wanted to join the Holy Grail War yourself?”

“Weber Velvet.”

With the final syllable, the newly appeared Lancer leapt high, his spear flashing unerringly toward the black-haired youth atop the chariot!