[center][h3]June 25th, 2021
1:21 A.M
Otto von Habsburg 
Somewhere outside of [color=6ecff6]Boston [/color][/h3][/center]

Crisp summer night air swept over the trees and hills of the Boston countryside. Dotted with roving hills and pockets of thick forests, the Boston countryside was home to many of a wealthy estate, not terribly unlike those that populated the Vienna countryside. One in particular, however, was tucked away into a deep respite, free from the lights and noises from the distant metropolis. The estate was alive, seemingly about to burst like a dam from the ocean of guests that moved about its grounds. 

Many had come tonight. More than anyone had expected. The din of a lively party could be heard, muffled as it was, on the 4th floor study. The host had excused himself a couple of hours beforehand, retiring early from the party and occupying the study. The host had always held contempt for parties. Frivolous exercises in the social sphere, where entire reputations could be built or torn down in the course of the revelry. This party, however, was much different than the ones held by wealthy bankers, and corrupt politicians, back in Vienna. 

Hours beforehand, Otto, himself the host of this massive party, had been among the guests. Playing the role of the generous host, he mingled with magnates, businessmen, heiresses, and notable members of the Boston political scene. The pretense of the occasion was written off as a celebration of a Massachusetts politician announcing his intent to become a gubernatorial candidate for the 2022 elections. In truth, Otto had already forgotten the man's name. It was of no matter, as it only gave more pressure to the locals of the region to attend. 

The type of Bounded Field that encapsulated the leased estate, that Otto had been calling home for the last 3 days, was something that had been perfected long before Otto's time, a marvel of Magecraft in and of itself. For the ritual that was about to take place, the Bounded Field created by Otto days before would be the furnace, and the party-goers the fuel. The mix of emotions; jubilation, jealousy, anger, lust, and the subtle machinations of Otto himself, would be what made a ritual of this caliber so effortless for the Habsburg, as the raw energy of the conglomeration of emotions below would be refined by the Bounded Field into a massive store of Mana. The overabundance of guests, such an annoyance scant hours before, would now turn into an advantage for Otto. 

In the center of the study, all non-essential equipment had been pushed to the walls, in a neat order, making room for the complex Summoning Circle that Otto had spent the last couple of hours meticulously crafting. In the center of the Summoning Circle, in an opened velvet-lined rosewood box, laid a single link of a gilded chain, noticeably glimmering in the sparse moonlight that painted the room. Everything was in it's rightful place, and all that was required, now, was the careful touch of a skilled mage. 

Otto glanced over his work that laid in front of him, trained eyes looking for any errors as an editor would search for any of the typographical nature. It had taken a lot of time, money, and effort, to set the stage for the Servant he intended on summoning, and with the party ending soon, the time could only be now. Everything had to be executed with rehearsed precision. 

Otto removed his black jacket, placing it carefully on the study's only desk, afterwards unbuttoning the cuffs of his milk-white dress shirt and rolling the sleeves to his elbows. It had been a while since Otto had been exercised this much in his Magecraft. In truth, it was something he enjoyed more than he cared to admit. He was proficient at it, and nothing thrilled the noble mage than bending situations and people to his own will, but this was a different kind of pleasure. Otto's research of the Fourth Holy Grail War, and his ability to obtain the catalyst, ensured his victory, already. Otto hoped, with the Mana stored and the catalyst, that he would summon the King of Heroes - Gilgamesh. 

But even Otto was smart enough to realize that the nature of these rituals allowed for a level of surprise, and chaos. What little information Otto could gather, the catalyst he possessed could summon a number of Servants that had been blessed to possess the rest of the chain. Any number of them would do, in truth, as they were all powerful in their own right. In addition to being summoned within the Archer container, Otto was already confident in his perceived efforts in the coming War. 

Otto pushed all of these thoughts from his head, though. The task was now at hand, and any error could proved to be disastrous. The only thing left to do, now, was to act. Stepping into the summoning circle, Otto instantaneously could feel his hair stand on end, from the massive reserve of Mana pouring into the ritual from the Bounded Field. The commotions of the crowd below seemed so distant now. So quiet. Otto took a deep breath, and placed his hands out in front of him, palms facing down to his Summoning Circle. His skin began to twitch, and spasm, as he began to harvest the Mana enmasse, preparing to wield it for the ritual to come. This would be considered his first real step to his destiny. 

Otto began reciting the Incantation in his mother tongue, one he had so intently memorized that it now was as easy as breathing, and formed his hands into tight fists, gripping at the unseen Mana that swirled around him. Otto could feel the power he was beginning to access. For a moment, Otto pondered if this is the kind of power that a Servant felt, before purging the thought from his head, continuing with measured practice with his recital. 

As the ritual continued, a faint glow began to emanate from the Summoning Circle, growing in intensity as more and more harvested Mana was poured into it's heart. Otto's clothes pulled upwards, the coalescing energies of the ritual affecting the entire area of the study. Books from shelves began to slowly fall from their positions. Curtains to the large windows fluttered with increasing speed. A beautifully designed lacquered globe spun with intense ferocity from an unseen hand. Otto could feel the Grail opening to him, as he called to it, demanding a Servant to be summoned for this great War. And it was answering. 

In the final stages of the Incantation, Otto took a step deeper into the Summoning Circle, and closed his eyes, his body now pulsing in a practiced rhythm in tune with the Mana he was gathering. Now, everything grew silent. The party below was gone. The globe spun in silence. The curtains flapped violently against an unseen foe, but were silent all the same. Even as older, and heavier, tomes found their way to the floor, they did so in absolute silence. Only the powerful, commanding voice of Otto von Habsburg boomed out from the perceived silence

[b]"Großer alter Geist,
antworte meinem ruf!"[/b]


[u]His[/u] destiny was coming.