After hearing his Master's response, the young Servant Berserker gave Xander an odd look-- halfway between wonderment and disgust. "You don't know what's going on?" The boy's black tail thrashed with these words, cutting and knocking aside more nearby wreckage. "You're in a war, and you don't even know you entered it?" Upon reiterating the situation out loud, despite his clenched hands and flushed face, something seemed to dawn on Berserker. The last of his frustrations boiling over before it even occurred to him to keep them contained, the pre-teen roared-- as harshly as a pre-teen can--"What kind of a MORON must you be to summon me?!" The television chose this precise moment to play an annoying advertisement, inciting the brutish blade of Berserker's to punch right through the screen with a loud POP and an electrical fizzle. Almost seeming hurt or betrayed by this recent information, the dark-auburn-haired boy cast one more repugnant glance at Xander before turning away, observing more of the ruin he had wrought, his tail picking aimlessly through the mix of clutter. "You're a Master in the Holy Grail War," he informed Xander, spitting out the important terms with a dosage of venom. "Your goal is to kill the other six Masters and their Servants so that we win the Holy Grail." Pointedly looking at the young man who summoned him, Berserker stated with emphasis, "The Holy Grail which grants you anything you want." His tone carrying a hidden sulking, Berserker continued, "Masters are usually strong magi, who know what they're getting into when they see the Command Spell." In indication, the boy held up the back of his bare, pale hand. "And usually, only the really experienced ones want to summon Berserker, because of how hard the Class is to control." His tail perked up at this moment and angled its tip towards Xander, as if zeroing in for the benefit of its bearer. "You're a lucky idiot since I can keep the Madness contained," Berserker said righteously. Despite his childish arrogance, some part of him sounded more mature when he said this-- as if he were fighting a heavy burden. "Otherwise," the boy finished in a more serious tone than he had spoken in before, for he too dreaded the hypothetical more than he would like to admit, "I really would have killed you."