The freezing winter wind gave its harsh greeting to Voir as he stepped off the last plane of the night. The city's air traffic was usually low to begin with, but with the winter season coming in, flights became as less as one or two times a day. Despite it being a city of reputable size, there weren't really any landmarks of great interest in the city, so tourists were rare sights. People coming into the city were either residents coming home for the holidays, or passers-by en route to bigger cities up north.

"Passport, please," the airport staff asked Voir as he came up in front of the line for international flights. A quick glance and he saw the following: Age: 25; Nationality: French; Occupation: Businessman; other stamps indicating the other trips this Mr. Umbra has been into in the past. The staff approved the passport without incident, and Voir made his way to the short line of taxis outside the arrival area after picking up a couple of suitcases on the conveyor belt.

He quickly got on the cab at the front, and simply gave a slip of paper to the driver beside him. Without a word, the car sped off into the city proper.
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Several minutes later, Voir was gazing out into the quiet city from the balcony of his hotel room, a small wooden case on the table beside him. With a click, he propped the boxes open, revealing a thin stack of cards amidst the velvet lining of the container. The cards gave off a weak, but tangible force, as if holding some sort of power within them. He took them out, and spread them out like a fan in his hand. There were seven cards, with different images of what seemed to be warriors and strange figures. All of them were tingling slightly, reacting to his touch.

Voir's eyes narrowed into slits as he observed the cards, as if reading some sort of meaning from the images. His lips curled into a sly smile.

"All seven are in play," he whispered to the deep night, "All the contracts are made. Then this is the first night of the holiest of wars, may the victor reap the spoils."

Fuka Narado stepped into the posh black luxury sedan that met her when she arrived at the airport. One of her bodyguards opened the back passenger-side door for her, and she demurely seated herself, making sure to tuck the back of her business suit's skirt forwards lest it get wrinkled.

"Lady Narado, I hope the flight was to your liking," her driver told her as he started the car and began to pull away from the airport curbside. Her other bodyguards all hopped into another black car which followed closely behind hers.

"It was fair," Fuka told the man, though she thought otherwise. The half Japanese, half British woman absolutely hated flying. She despised the cramped seats, the noise, the people. Yet she knew that she had to make the sacrifice of coming to this city so that she would be able to save the one thing left that truly mattered to her.

Her clan's future.

As the sedan and its escort pulled into the highway, Fuka turned her attention to the view out of her window. Outside, the city lay: a sprawling modern edifice, much like innumerable other human habitations littering the planet. It was neither different from nor similar to Tokyo, as all cities tended to be nowadays. It was a concrete jungle, with various species of human wildlife living in it.

"Archer," the Yakuza boss spoke up.

There was a slight shimmering in the air above the seat next to her. Within a few moments, that shimmer solidified into the solid form of a tall, black haired man in a brown duster and wide-brimmed hat. Although his face was young, his eyes betrayed his true age and that of the soul within. The dark blue orbs looked old; they were the eyes of a man who've seen too much bad in his time, and mayhaps had participated in many of those bad things himself. The driver saw his appearance from the rear-view mirror, but as he and the other members of the Narado Yakuza had met the Servant before, he gave him no mind.

"Yes, master?" Archer asked the woman whom he had signed a pact with.

"How does the city look?" Fuka continued to watch said city roll past her from the side window, trying not to let the slight tinge of nervousness she was feeling show on her voice. "And what of the others? Have they arrived as well?"

"The city's as to be expected," the tall man shrugged. "It's a place with lots of people. Gonna make our jobs a lot harder, trying not to get noticed while fighting to the death. But, whatever. I've been through tougher things. As for the other Servants and their Masters... well, I have found no sign. Yet."

Fuka nodded, hopeful that this meant that she was the first of the Magi participating in the Grail War to arrive in the city. It would buy her and her forces time to prepare. The more time she had, the better the odds that she and Archer would be the ones to win this conflict.

"Very good," she dryly told him. "Continue to keep watch for any sign of the other Magi or their Servants. If we can take one or two of them out before they are prepared, then it just makes our task easier to accomplish."

Archer nodded before vanishing.

Fuka continued to stare out at the city, her eyes distant and not truly seeing the impressive view. Her thoughts, as always, had drifted to her father and what he had entrusted to her in his last, dying days.

"Don't worry, father," she thought to herself. "The Narado Clan will once more be powerful. Our days of hiding and kow towing to our enemies shall soon be at an end. Once the Holy Grail is mine, I will see to it that your dreams are realized. I promise you, father. Your faith in me shall be rewarded."

And thus, the first player in the next Holy Grail War entered the fray.