Shinji stumbled into the dimly lit church, his breath ragged, his suit stained with dirt and dried sweat. His hands trembled—partially from exhaustion, mostly from anger. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he stormed toward the altar.
"Kotomine!" he roared, his voice echoing through the cavernous hall. "You bastard! You gave me trash! "
Silence greeted him at first, but then came the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps. From the shadows of the sanctuary, a tall figure emerged—Father Kotomine Kirei, his cassock pristine as ever, his expression calm, unreadable. He approached the raging boy with the same unshaken demeanor he always wore, as if Shinji's outburst was little more than the wind howling against the church walls.
Shinji, however, was seething. His blood boiled with frustration, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. "A Rider! That's what you gave me?! A useless, pathetic Servant! And meanwhile, Tohsaka gets a goddamn Saber?!" His voice cracked with fury. "She already had the advantage, and you knew that! I wanted to crush her! I should have crushed her! But no, you—" He pointed an accusing finger at Kotomine. "—set me up to fail!"
Kotomine listened in silence. Then, in the next breath—
He laughed.
Not just a quiet chuckle, not a dry smirk. No, it was a full, hearty laugh. Deep, rich, and amused in a way that sent a chill down Shinji's spine.
Shinji's rage flared hotter. "What the hell is so funny?!"
Kotomine didn't answer.
That only made it worse.
Shinji stormed forward, grabbing the priest by the front of his cassock and yanking him forward, shaking with rage. "This is your fault!" he snarled. "All of it! If you hadn't given me that worthless Rider, I wouldn't be standing here! I'd be winning! I'd—"
Kotomine's grin didn't waver. If anything, it deepened.
Shinji faltered. His grip loosened slightly. "…What the hell is so funny?!"
The priest tilted his head slightly, as if examining him. Then, he said, "You have drive, Matou."
Shinji stiffened.
"The fire," Kotomine continued, his tone almost gentle. "The ambition. The desperation." His smile turned razor-sharp. "Say, if you were given another Servant… what would you do?"
Shinji blinked. His breath hitched. "…Another one?"
Kotomine spread his arms slightly, his tone still casual, as if discussing the weather. "The Holy Grail War is my domain, boy. Do you really think the rules are so rigid?"
Shinji's heart pounded. "But there are only seven Servants—"
Kotomine raised a brow. "Are there?"
For a moment, Shinji just stared. Then, as realization dawned, his breath quickened. Another chance. Another Servant. Another shot at winning.
His nails dug into his palms. "Will this one be as worthless as Rider?"
Kotomine chuckled again, this time softer. "You have no idea."
Shinji licked his lips, his mind already racing, the humiliation of his earlier loss fading beneath a new, intoxicating thought—revenge.
"…I accept," he said, his voice steady, his eyes burning with renewed determination. "But this Servant had better be strong."