Your magic circle shines bright red, filling with your magical energy, when suddenly you feel presence of something great, something so old and magnificent you can't do anything but step back from golden light, illuminating your room. A bright golden fog start to form in a shape of a tall man, and in couple seconds you can see a dignified figure of your Servant. Golden plate armor, spiky golden hair, and cold gaze of blood-red eyes... You feel a chill running down your spine, as he speaks.

Servant, Archer.

His arrogant voice echoes in your room, followed by crunch of his golden armor as he folds his arms over his chest.

And you must be my... Master, huh?

Cold smirk appears on his face, as if he mocks you.