October 11th - 4th day Night

"Shirou. I understand that the current circumstances have you on edge, but was it really necessary for you to return early?"

That is the question that Saber asks me as I sift through my cluttered thoughts. A half-empty cup of tea rests in my hand, long since cooled past drinking temperature. My restlessly-bouncing knee knocks against the coffee table for the umpteenth time since I sat down, something which Saber is far from impressed with. The irritation in her voice when she'd excused herself almost an hour ago― citing that she was going for a bath― had been almost palpable.

It takes me a moment to recognise that the question was actually addressed to me and not just another complaint spoken under her breath. "It was. If what Caster said is true, we don't have a lot of time left. I have to be ready."

The fate of everyone in Fuyuki City is at stake. And I find myself in the unfortunate situation of being one of the handful of people that can do anything about it. Every fibre of my being is screaming at me to go out there, to protect them from this nameless enemy. But a sword needs a target in order to fulfil its purpose. How can I strike down an enemy I can't even see?

I stand, turning away from her as a groan of frustration rumbles deep in my chest. It's already been established that I can't do anything to prevent any more anomalies from occurring, only prepare and react to them when the time comes. The pressure of that unknown danger makes me restless. This feeling is no stranger to me; the only cure is to keep myself occupied, to bury myself in something that leaves no room for idle speculation. The question of whether to visit the dojo or give my collection of magic books another read through surfaces in my mind.

"Shirou…"

A feather-light touch brushes against the back of my hand.

I turn, meeting the troubled gaze of my Servant. Saber's lips part, then press together, as if she's wrestling to find the words she wishes for. Hesitantly, she wraps her fingers around my hand, gives it a gentle squeeze.

"This may seem wrong of me to say, but… I wish you had stayed after all," she sighs.

"How can you say that? Don't you understand exactly why I need to do things this way?"

"I understand why you feel you need to do this. But I can't help but feel that your decision is… misguided."

I reel back in shock and she steps closer. Her hands move to grip my arms just above my elbows, denying my retreat. There is an intensity in her eyes that I haven't seen in a long time.

Actually, scratch that. I don't think I can say I've ever seen her look like this. While those eyes of hers are just as fierce as they were back in the Grail War, the emotion behind them is completely different.

"I…" Saber's eyes flicker away and back restlessly. She heaves a shaky breath. "When you first summoned me at the start of the Holy Grail War, I wasn't sure what to make of you. Back then, you were so unsure of yourself, so unfocused. But in recent months, you have grown so much. It has been the greatest privilege to watch you become the man you are. That is why I feel I must say something.

During my life, I always put the kingdom before my own needs, put aside my own desires for the sake of the people I ruled over. It wasn't until it all came crashing down that I realised what I had lost along the way. Back then, I gave up the freedoms and joys of life that I should have had… and now I see you doing much the same thing. The last thing I want is for you to make the same mistakes that I did. What I desire is for you to live your life not just for the sake of others, but for yourself as well."

An awkward chuckle escapes my lips. "I'm perfectly happy with what I do."

"Is that so? I have seen your face after you have helped someone. Many times even. You always seem content, satisfied even. But the only time I have ever seen you look truly happy is when you have been in the kitchen."

"That's not…"

That's not true… is it?

"There's nothing wrong with your dream, Shirou. If anything, I admire the compassion you show towards people you don't even know. However, that doesn't mean you can't be selfish from time to time. Tell me, honestly… is there not something else you desire? Something you long for, not for your dream, but simply to have as your own?"

Saber's gentle words filter into my ears, stirring thoughts I'd long since cast aside. I had asked such a thing of myself once, gone so far as to explore every opportunity to try something new, only to find that it was all of little interest to me.

…But she's always had a way of making me see things that I was incapable of seeing on my own. With a simple question, the foundations on which I have built my whole life crumble ever so slightly. Somewhere along the line, I had almost forgotten that there was supposed to be more to life than blindly following a dream.

I'm not sure why I'm only now thinking about this so deeply. Maybe it was the desperation in Saber's eyes as she gazed so deeply into my own. Or perhaps it was the sight of her freely-flowing hair, still half-wet from her earlier bath, glistening under the lights above, the lingering scent of citrus mixed with a more subtle, womanly aroma clouding my judgement. Maybe it was just her lingering touch and how easy it would be to just take her into my arms, given how close she is.

A little voice in the back of my mind quietly chimed in that I might well want to do just that. But did I have room in my life for something like that, knowing where my path might lead me?

Does someone like me deserve something so utterly perfect?

Under her expectant gaze, I feel compelled to say something, even if I have no answer for her. With the utmost effort, my jaw creaks open.

"I…"

Then the ringing of a bell overhead shatters the tender moment.

The fabric of the bounded field billows like a flag in the wind as a number of hostile targets pour across the perimeter. Five, ten, a dozen, more. The momentary disturbances give me an idea of their entry points, their mere presence here saying all there is to know about their intentions.

"Saber."

The Servant of the Sword stands to attention, having already materialised her battle attire. Her previous relaxed temperament has disappeared without a trace. Under threat from unknown entities, the woman who was once hailed as King of Britain stands steadfast, ready to take the field.

"What are your orders, Master?"

Just as she did back in those troubled days, Saber looks to follow my lead.

"...Sounds like these guys came looking for a fight. Let's not keep them waiting."

She nods grimly, falling in behind me as I tread down the hallway to the front door. The house itself makes for a poor battleground; so many entrances make it easy for our opponents to make use of their superior numbers to surround us. For the same reason, pushing out towards the rear of the building is just as hazardous due to how exposed it is, giving the enemy numerous ways to flank us. But we should be safe enough if we go through the front entrance… provided we do so quickly enough to avoid being attacked from behind.

The faint tinkling of shattering glass reaches my ears— that must be the sound of the windows being smashed in. They're already inside, then.

From the distant sounds of pounding and scratching, it seems the additional magic enchantments I deployed over the last few months, though minor, were enough to prevent them from coming through the walls at least.

So they're strong enough to break through glass that's been put under minor reinforcement, but the same isn't true of the rest of the house?

That was a good tidbit to know.

Even if we're short on time, I shrug my shoes on, not eager to go into battle in just my socks. As I do, something catches my eye― a long padded object that I had unearthed while cleaning the other day and summarily set to one side.

The sight of that ridiculously-shaped package triggers a light bulb inside my head. Gesturing for Saber to take point, I all but dive towards the package and hurriedly release it from its bindings.

As the wrapping falls away, I'm left holding a peculiar wooden rod. There is a slight bend about a third of the way along its length, marked by a white strip of cloth. A long string is secured to one of the two ends, which both curve sharply in the opposite direction of the middle bend.

Few people outside of Japan would be able to recognise what this item is. In fact, most Japanese people would need a second to work it out even. But me? I can recognise such a thing the instant I lay my eyes on one, even without the constant stream of information my magic imparts into my mind. What I hold is a Yumi― a traditional Japanese asymmetric bow. Back when I was still a part of Homurahara's archery club, this bow was my ever-present companion, one which I would hold virtually every day. Since then, it's been left to gather dust, albeit metaphorically since I've been careful to maintain it even so.

Despite myself, a smirk creeps onto my face. This bow is far from the most powerful in my arsenal, but the idea of using traditional Japanese weaponry to defend my home seems strangely fitting.

"Right then, let's—"

Gripping the bow at the marked position, I go down on one knee. I place the strung end against the ground, hooking the other end over my extended leg. Then, taking hold of the string with one hand, I force the shaft downwards with the other. The bow protests as I try to force it against its natural bend, so I'm forced to ease it into it with a series of increasingly forceful bounces. When my hand swoops low enough for my knuckles to almost graze the floor, I slip the loop of the string over the end of the bow.

I detach the quiver from the carry case and strap it across my back, noting as I do that it currently only holds a dozen arrows. That's fine… I shouldn't need more than one arrow per target.

Having retrieved everything I need, I stand. The combined weight of bow and quiver feel both alien and familiar after so long apart, but I'm still happy with my choice. My eyes flick up to meet Saber's, who's interposed herself between me and the doorway. If she thinks my choice of weaponry odd, she doesn't show any sign.

She tilts her head towards the door questioningly, to which I nod. Without a moment's hesitation, she turns. One armoured boot lashes out and—

The door explodes outwards as Saber kicks it through. I catch a glimpse of a shadowy something before it's enveloped by a shower of wooden splinters. Whatever it is, it has time for one animalistic yelp before Saber shoots forward in a streak of silver and blue, cleaving it in two with her invisible blade.

"Shirou!"

"Right behind you."

I follow in the wake of my Servant, emerging out into the starry night. With an utterance of just two words—

"Trace, on"

And the mental image of a gun's hammer firing—

The magic circuits within me thrum to life.

Pushing magical energy into my limbs, my already considerable speed doubles, then doubles again. In a display of superhuman ability and an impossible leap, I top the gatehouse that serves as the entrance to the property.

I click my tongue in irritation. "The gatehouse offers the best view, but the height…"

Even at the peak of its roof, the guardhouse is not even twenty feet tall and the walls themselves are only about eight. If our attackers have even the slightest bit of supernatural strength, they'll have no trouble whatsoever in getting to me.

"But it's not like I have a lot of options. This'll have to do."

Another mental push sends trace amounts of magical energy to my eyes, which I weave into another reinforcement spell. The enhancement sharpens my vision, the shadows seeming to shrink under its influence. As I scan around me, my eyes are drawn towards the sounds of an ongoing battle, the nature of our enemies becoming clear.

What the hell—?

Down below, Saber faces off against multiple opponents. But now that I can get a clear look at them, I realise they're far from what I expected them to be.

Darkness coalesced into lupine form: that is the only way I can think to describe them. They appear to be nothing but mere beasts at first glance, yet there is something vaguely humanoid about them. If I had to say, then they look more like werewolves than forest-dwelling hunters.

Yes, that sounds about right… no beast walks upright as comfortably as on all fours.

With easy, loping strides, the beasts circle Saber, who stares back defiantly, despite being unable to track so many targets at once. Their smouldering eyes flaring brightly as their bloodlust builds ever higher. One such beast, braver than its comrades, issues a challenge against the unseen blade and its wielder in a screech outside my range of hearing.

Then it charges at Saber from behind.

"Saber!"

The beast swipes at her exposed back with its guillotine-like claws.

One blow. That's all it would take from those razor-sharp talons to rip someone open.

The claws descend as if in slow motion.

The Servant of the Sword turns. Then, in a motion as effortless as breathing—

She cuts the beast down with a single blow.

That motion is the trigger to break the deadlock. After the first beast is purged by the holy blade, the others bound forward as one, intent on finishing the battle before it's even begun.

But that's not something that Saber is going to allow.

The beasts converge on her in a flash of fangs, claws and paws, lashing out with every appendage and slavering all the while. But not so much as one hit lands as Saber dances like a reed in the wind, stepping aside just enough that each blow passes by her harmlessly. Her blade flicks out almost casually, parting shadowy flesh like a hot knife through butter, never once failing to strike its intended target. In the face of her overwhelming talent, her opponents may as well be frozen in place.

Though the stars above me are a sight to be seen, for me, Saber's radiance far outstrips theirs. For who she once was, who she's become and who she will be… that is a treasure beyond compare.

Just as I was on that fateful day, the day it all began, the Once and Future King has me bewitched, down to my heart and soul.

It is the strange burning in my chest that brings me back to my senses, makes me realise that I've forgotten to even breathe. I gulp down the air greedily, the chill in the night air restoring some degree of lucidity.

Turning my mind back to the task at hand, I channel energy into the bow in my hand, filling the vessel to the bounds of its capabilities, strengthening it beyond what it would normally be capable of. Without conscious thought, an arrow is notched, the string drawn back past my ear, my thumb barely grazing the corner of my mouth. The targets have already been chosen, the arcs for flight calculated with utmost precision.

The battle may as well be already over. The moment I fire is the moment my enemies fall.

I release the bowstring and let the arrow fly. I immediately nock a second arrow— readjusting both aim and power for the new target— and release. A third and fourth arrow are released in a similar fashion before the first has even landed.

The first arrow strikes as I'm in the process of readying the fifth, striking one of the beasts with a meaty thwack. The fletching pluming from the beast's throat makes its lunge towards Saber fall short, the force of the arrow having nearly separated its head from its shoulders. It gives a single hacking cough before collapsing to the ground, its ember-like eyes growing dim.

Four more arrows streak through the air, each meeting similar success. Between my rain of arrows and Saber's own efforts, the enemy's numbers thin quickly, until only lifeless corpses remain.

I cast a long, hard look around me. Nearly a full minute passes before I'm fully satisfied that there's no more of the beasts nearby.

My body relaxes somewhat, though there's still a sense of wariness within me. Our momentary reprieve could be shattered at any moment, after all.

Still maintaining my self-reinforcement, I hop down from my perch, briskly walking over to Saber, who kneels next to one of the corpses.

"What strange creatures…" she mutters. "Never have I fought anything like them, even during my lifetime when phantasmal beasts still walked the Earth."

"They didn't seem all that strong," I remark.

"Quite right," responds Saber. "I intentionally let one of them land a glancing blow… it could just barely score my armour— not an easy feat in itself. Yet they stood no chance against my blade. It is… counter-intuitive."

"Maybe they're just not cut out for fighting Servants. Normals and ill-prepared Magi though…"

Even someone like Rin could fall victim to them if she was caught by surprise.

I inhale through my teeth. "We need to go, Saber. If there's more of these things out there, then a lot of people are going to be in danger."

"Of course. Where are we headed?"

My unfocused eyes turn to one of the few intact corpses as I think about her question. Tiny wisps peel off its skin, the body disintegrating before my very eyes.

"I don't know yet. But if there are more of these things, we need to find them before anyone gets hurt."

"Don't waste your time, boy. There is no-one left to save."

As the cool, disembodied voice rings out from above, particles of light appear in a vast swarm. Drifting together like moths drawn to a flame, they quickly coalesce into the vague semblance of a person.

"...Caster?"

"Who else?"

The ghostly entity— Caster?— floats down to our level, coming to a stop a few inches from the floor.

"Uh… Caster? I know this isn't exactly the best time to be asking this but… why are you purple?"

"Because what you're seeing is merely an astral projection, while my corporeal body is still inside the temple. I deemed it unnecessary to come here in person but realised that, while I could just speak to you telepathically, mortals cope poorly with such direct methods. Hence… this."

Caster accompanies those last words with a self-directed sweeping gesture, a look of abject disgust on her angular, polygonal face.

"I see…" I say quietly, even though that only half-answers my question.

"Caster," Saber interjects cautiously. "What did you mean, 'it's no use'?"

Caster eyes Saber with a guarded expression, neither Servant having gotten over their mutual distrust for the other. "I meant exactly that. Aside from yourselves and those of us here at the temple, there is no-one alive in Fuyuki City."

"What—?"

Saber echoes my cry of shock.

"That couldn't possibly be the case!" "There's no way to know that!"

Caster huffs at our expressions of disbelief. "Say what you will about my character, but don't doubt my abilities. Have you forgotten that I was siphoning the lifeforce from the people of this city during the war? I know well enough when someone is alive or dead and there is no-one left out there."

"But—"

I bite back my rebuttal with no small amount of effort. Ordinarily, I would be hesitant to take Caster's words at face value, but since we're no longer enemies, I'd like to think she would be above trying to deceive me now.

"Alright. So what do we do?" I ask.

"The first priority is survival, is it not?" Caster replies. "My enchantments have turned the temple into a veritable fortress and the few creatures that have made it to our doorstep fell quickly. However, there are many more lurking not too far away… it likely won't be long before they launch another assault, in greater numbers. If the two of you can make it to us, we should be able to hold out long enough to formulate an appropriate strategy."

I mull over Caster's words for a moment, looking for holes in her argument but finding none. "I guess that's the best thing we can do right now. But what about the other Servants?"

"Hmm? Oh, the others… they are alive at least. They are of a different existence from the mortals and were likely unaffected by whatever befell them. From what I can tell, Archer, Lancer and Gilgamesh are somewhere in Miyama still, but there is some ...interference preventing me from discerning their exact location. Berserker and his Master are most likely hiding away in their castle."

"We should try to get a message to them then."

"I concur," says Saber supportively. "Their strength will be invaluable."

"As I said, I am currently unable to locate those within Miyama. And as for the Einzbern girl… it would take an exorbitant amount of my energy to cast a projection across such a distance. Energy that I cannot afford to waste at the moment. If you want to enlist their aid, you will have to contact them yourself."

"...Fine, we'll find them ourselves. But you'd better hope we don't die, or you'll be in a pretty sorry situation."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage somehow. I will give you this: you have a knack for surviving things you shouldn't. But I should leave you to it— ta ta for now."

With a condescending smirk and a wave, Caster's projection fades away in the same manner that it appeared.

"...She seems far too happy about all this," I sigh. I seem to be doing that far too much recently.

I turn to Saber once again. "So, Saber… we have two objectives and limited time. On top of that, there's only two of us to do it."

She narrows her eyes at me. "I'm not going to like where you are going with this, am I?"

"I think we're going to have to split—"

"No!"

"—up," I blink. "Sorry?"

"I said no. It is far too dangerous for you to be alone right now. If we are going to do this, we do it together."

"We don't have time to do that, Saber. Unless we want to risk losing everyone that's left."

"But—"

"I'll be fine, Saber. I haven't been training all this time for nothing. But if it really bothers you, how about this: you go for the other Servants and I'll go for Illya. I'll keep my head down and avoid getting into any fights."

That's still not quite enough to mollify her, but with something approaching a pout, she gives a reluctant nod. "Okay. I don't like it, but I trust that you will stay safe. Just make sure you come back as soon as you are able."

"Of course. It's a promise," I say, with what I hope is a reassuring smile. "With any luck though, you'll draw all their attention and I won't even have to lift a finger."

For some reason, that joking remark seems to put a fire in her eyes. With a terse nod as an acknowledgement of my words, Saber dashes away in a rush of wind. The only sign that she was ever here is the boot-shaped craters where she was standing just seconds ago. However, something about the sound of collapsing buildings just beyond the courtyard tells me that she's not far away.

Even so, the empty yard feels a lot more sinister. My frosted breath mists in the air as I release a tense breath.

Now then… what first?

It would be best to get going before more of those things arrive. But before I do, there's one thing I have to try.

Extending my senses outward, I cautiously step through what's left of the doorway and down the hall, listening out as it were for any more unexpected guests. Wooden splinters crunch under my feet, despite my best efforts to remain silent, but thankfully nothing leaps out at me from around the corner.

"Haaah… right, where is it now?"

Deep gouges have been taken out of the floor by the passage of clawed feet and most of the furniture buffeted from pillar to post. The side table I expected to see standing against the wall has been thrown across the room, the phone I expected to see on it—

"...Smashed, huh? Damn."

As much as it frustrated me that Lancer didn't have a mobile phone the other day when I wanted to talk to him, I can't ignore the irony of not having one for myself when I need it.

Hey, it's not like I don't see the importance of having one… it's just that there were other things that took priority. Even if Rider has a job of her own, the cost of living is much higher now that she and Saber are both staying under the same roof as me.

So there goes that idea. Guess it's on to Plan B.

Turning my back on the shattered remains, I step back outside. But just as I cross the threshold—

My bow catches on the door.

"...That's right. You don't belong out there, do you?"

A Yumi is a ceremonial weapon, used more as a medium for meditation than combat. The draw weight is too low to do much damage and due to its size, it's too cumbersome to be practical outside of an archery range. For all my fond memories with this bow, it's not something you should carry onto the battlefield.

With the greatest care, I lay it down across the doorway and offer up a bow. For some reason, it feels like this will be the only time I'll be able to do this. That's likely just superstition, but the fact that I never returned to the archery club again weighs heavily on me. If this is to be our final meeting, then I want to say…

Thank you for your support. I'll take it from here.

The shroud of night has indeed settled over Fuyuki City, it seems. An already quiet residential neighbourhood becomes quieter still with the onset of twilight, the usual steady flood of activity dwindling to sporadic passings of the villainous and foolhardy.

But the oppressive weight of an unseen presence would serve to drive even those scant few away… if there were any to be found, that is.

But they're gone, aren't they? That's what Caster said anyway.

The question is, did they disappear, or did the worst come to pass?

Questions burn away at my insides even as the bitter cold saps the heat from my skin. My feet drum out a repetitive pattern amid the clatter of room tiles, a series of steps with the sole aim of building momentum. The roof's edge approaches rapidly, the reddish tiles resembling a cliff's edge under the dim moonlight. On one side of the edge— a tangible surface to provide a relatively safe foothold. On the other…

A long drop with a sudden stop. Not somewhere any normal person would want to venture.

The intervening distance reaches zero, my foot coming to land at the edge of that lip. The muscles in my legs tense, driving my feet down with explosive force, propelling me high into the sky.

For one heart-stopping moment, I hang high above the ground as the world reels past at blinding speed. The wind licks against my face like the tongues of a thousand serpents, making the empty street below me seem all the more sinister.

Then my feet slam against the opposing roof and I stagger to stay upright. Just like that, that agonising moment of being completely exposed is over.

"Damn, let's not ever do that again."

Or so I say, knowing that I'll more than likely have to go against that assertion. As much as my abilities have improved, it's hard to suppress the innate fear of falling, even knowing that my reinforced body is more than capable of handling it. But wandering the streets at a time like this is just begging to be attacked. At least I should be relatively safe up here. Not only is the view good enough to make picking out enemies much easier, but the extra height should also make it more difficult for the beasts to get to me, giving me time to pick them off before a fight can even begin.

I mean, it's not like those things will be good at climbing…

Right?

A disturbing thought crosses my mind— one which I shake from my mind without hesitation.

Returning to the task at hand, I build up to a gentle run, hopping the much smaller gap to the neighbouring house, then the next and the next again.

Slowly but surely, I work my way further to the south-west, navigating across the rooftops of Miyama, gradually making my way up to the hilltop forests of Fuyuki. My perception is tickled every so often by the appearance of a presence in the middle distance. Whether in small groups or as stragglers, the beasts roam the streets— for what purpose, I don't know.

Every time those things pass by, my hands itch to cut them down… but my promise to Saber bars me from taking action each time. Instead, I keep my head down until they pass by, then hastily move on once they're at a safe distance.

Before I know it, I'm at the forest's edge, with the entire city sprawled out behind me. Miyama seems as dead as can be, my reinforced sight failing to pick out even the slightest bit of motion. On the other side of the river, however—

That sight alone is enough to send shivers down my spine.

A vast swarm of those phantom beasts.

An army stretching as far as the eye can see.

What the hell… WHAT THE HELL!

This can't be happening!

There is one thing and one thing alone preventing them from pouring across the rest of the city: the great divide that is the River Mion. This one natural feature impedes their progress, leaving them but one option moving forward— that being the artificial bridge, a human construction of all things.

That bridge serves as a bottleneck, funnelling a legion of undead corpses along a single, narrow path. There are outliers, of course… those that take their chances against the current and swim across— but the bulk of their forces are there, following the most straightforward path.

But straightforward though it is, they are not entirely unopposed. While they occupy one bank of the river, a small party of four stands at the other. Undaunted by the horde before them, this company of heroes resolutely repels the invaders' advance, cutting down the beasts in huge swathes. With a deluge of swords and arrows, the two at the rear carve gaping holes into the enemy's formation. The few beasts that survive the initial assault are dispatched quickly, first crippled, then executed by a combined attack of sword and spear.

Thus, an army is thwarted before it even reaches the shore.

The stalwart defence displayed by those four is a majestic sight indeed. But… for that very reason, I am on the verge of weeping.

A crimson ranger, firing a virtually-limitless stream of conjured arrows.

An azure partisan, striking from a distance with a cursed spear.

A demi-god wielding every treasure known to the world.

And a dragon in human form, vanquishing foes left and right with a holy Fae-made blade.

The defenders are undoubtedly the four errant Servants. Archer. Lancer. Gilgamesh. Saber.

Before any other foe, they would be unstoppable. But as quickly as those monsters fall, their numbers do not diminish in the slightest. Quite the opposite in fact— the longer the battle draws on, the more their numbers increase.

Their darkness continues to spread, quickly overtaking the Earth like an eternal plague, infecting countless victims.

For man, 'infinity' is merely a concept; a term used to describe that which exceeds the limits of human cognition. There is nothing in this world that is truly infinite, so the word is little more than a theory.

But these… things are different from that incomprehensible idea. There cannot truly be an end to them. As long as one remains, others will split off from him— that much I can tell, just by looking at those beasts away from the front line. And even should the last fall…

The rift hanging high above Shinto will surely spawn more, to begin the cycle anew.

Less a hole and more a tear in the fabric of space, the gaping chasm in the sky is spewing forth a constant current of noxious substances that I don't recognise. Dark shapes writhe amidst the waste, clawing their way to the surface and dropping down to the street below.

I pick out one of these shapes and with a good look, finally recognise it to be another of those phantom beasts. The creature manages to escape the cloying muck and falls to the ground with a splat. I hope that'll be the end of it, but then it stands up, shaking itself like a wild dog and tails its fellows.

Yes… as valiant as the heroes' efforts may be, their resistance is ultimately futile. No matter their resolve, or their ability, their strength will fail them. Even should they survive the tenth wave, the hundredth, even the thousandth, eventually their reserves will run dry and they will be rendered practically helpless.

This battle will be one of attrition. Soon enough, their strength will fail them and they'll be forced to make a fighting retreat. Then an army of epic proportions will descend upon the last human refuge—

And everyone there will be taken apart, piece by bloody piece.

"Hah— gh—"

Transfixed by that overbearing aura of malice, I struggle to control my breathing. My joints feel rigid, like they've been locked into place with metal pins, but my muscles tremble with exertion as I command my body to move.

"There's no fighting that… but I can slow them down."

Yes, that's all I can do. Caster seemed unaware of the enemy's strength, but all it will take is one look for that to change. Even if the woods around Ryuudou Temple hide Shinto from sight, there are other means of seeing from a distance. Familiars, Divination, Astral Projections… if Caster uses even one of these methods or any others she might happen to have in her repertoire, she and the others will know exactly what they're facing. They'll be able to prepare. All they need is time.

And while I may not be as strong a fighter as the Servants, I can still help to buy that time.

My mind made up, my muscles relax just enough to take a shaky step forward. Assessing the distance to the next rooftop, I brace myself to jump—

"Oh? You plan to enter the fray then?"

And with a sound akin to a tinkling wind chime, a most delicate facsimile of a bird glides down from above. Its glass-like wings flutter gently as it comes to a hover in front of me.

"I wouldn't recommend that at all. You will probably end up dying… and finding a new big brother to spoil me sounds like too much work."

So says the strange fake bird. Though I guess it would be more accurate to say that the precocious yet bratty voice is coming through it, rather than from it.

"Illya… you're alive," I sigh. "I'm glad."

"Hehehe. You should have already learned this by now, Shirou… but nothing gets past my Berserker." The bird tilts its head— a gesture that comes across as either a shrug or a contemplative pause. "I'm not so sure about the other Servants though. I mean, they're stronger than I gave them credit for before, but I don't like their chances against that many beasties. I give them a few hours before they start to get overwhelmed."

"Yeah… it's not looking good," I say, glancing towards the distance battle. "I don't suppose you have any ideas of how to beat them…?"

"Mmmm… blowing up that rift is probably a bad idea. You might just wipe this city off the map. Our best bet is to just try and survive until morning, I suppose."

"Huh, morning? What makes you say that?"

The bird repeats that gesture again. "Intuition. Something tells me that sunrise will give us the reprieve we need."

That's an awfully roundabout way of saying that she doesn't have a clue. Though, coming from Illya— whose predictions are accurate to the point where I'd almost question if she's clairvoyant— I'd like to think it's something more than that.

"...Haah. Then, what we have to do remains unchanged."

That's right. It all comes down to just staying alive and living to fight another day.

"If that's the case, then there's even more reason for me to go out there Illya. The people I care about are in danger… I can't just sit by and let them get hurt."

Illya remains silent. Maybe she's surprised by my words… she's never really been able to understand my whole self-sacrificing 'hero' mindset, after all.

"You really are a little messed up, you know… putting such importance on other people's lives," she says quietly. "I used to hate that side of you. In my head, I would call you a fool… but I think maybe I've come to like it just a little bit too."

I mentally add, 'I just wish you'd spoil me a little more!' to the end of that uncharacteristic admission.

Illya groans. "I wasn't going to do this, but you leave me no choice… get back to the Temple as quickly as you can, I'll handle the rest. Berserkaah!"

The garbled sounds of an explosion cause the bird-familiar before me to tremble.

"Illya?!"

"Hmm? Oh, that was just Berserker breaking through the dining-room wall again. Nothing to worry about."

Again? Is she seriously telling me this is a regular occurrence?

"What are you—?" Then it dawns on me just what she's planning. "Illya, no!"

"What are you worrying about? With Berserker at my side, I'm untouchable. Make no mistake, I have no plans to die out here, Shirou. This is just a bit of routine exercise for me and my Servant, plus we get to slow these monsters down a little. I think that's what you'd call a win-win, yes?"

"...Fine. But stay safe, you hear me?"

"Yeees! Now get moving— if you're where I think you are, Berserker will stomp over you in a few minutes. Oh, but no detours! If you do anything other than run straight there at full speed, I'll have no choice but to punish you."

Now there's a terrifying thought. Though I'm not sure what I'm more scared of— Illya, or that hulking slab of muscle she calls a Servant.

Either way, I don't want to do anything to anger her. Against my better judgement, I turn away from the distant battlefield and towards the temple—

And I run.

Not at the measly pace I demonstrated earlier this night. If you were to compare my speed then against my speed now, it would be like comparing a gentle jog to a full-on sprint.

The power my legs are exuding right now destroys the ground beneath my feet. The air itself impedes my every step, the inertia of more-or-less static gases counteracting my motion. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was running through honey instead of air.

My bones creak with every movement— a sure sign that I've pushed my body to its limits with my reinforcement. If I could have gone further, I would have… that's just how urgently I need to reach my destination. But at the risk of causing my body to spontaneously explode, I don't dare to try my luck. Even so, I'm already moving at such a speed that my eyes and brain wouldn't be able to process what was happening if they weren't also reinforced somewhat. A single bound does a lot more than take me across a street— in fact, I can almost clear an entire neighbourhood in an extra fast blink of my enhanced eyes. The few beasts that manage to spot me are left to eat my dust.

For just this one instant, I feel superhuman… maybe to the point where I'd be able to rival a Servant.

However, my magical reserves are running out quickly. Alarmingly so.

In fact, it remains to be seen if I will even be able to make it all the way back to the temple before I exhaust everything I have left. I guess that relying solely on my Od is unrealistic… so let's do something about that.

Knowing full well that I have a bunch of enemies on my tail, I slow down just enough that I can run without having to devote my entire focus on where I'm stepping. Reaching out to where my circuits dwell within me, I open myself up to the Mana that's ever-present in the atmosphere. It tingles against my skin— a vast wellspring of power that stems from life itself. Unlike my own Od, it doesn't belong to anyone… but you might say it also belongs to everyone since we are all a part of nature. And as part of the World, any Magus worth his salt can tap into that power, if they only know how.

Now, I've been called a third-rate Magus more than once. But despite that demeaning title— or perhaps because of it— I've learned a thing or two since the Grail War ended. Much to my shame, I had to impose on Rin more than I'd like, but it can hardly be helped.

So with my senses attuned in this way, I reach out to the Mana around me and pull. Reluctantly, it responds to my command, flowing towards me dribs and drabs. The process is slow— so much slower than Rin had expected when she first taught me this technique— but even so, the power seeps into me, drawn along by my circuits. Said circuits start to break down the alien energy, converting it into something I can use. It's not a lot, but it's enough to lessen the drain on my limited Od reserves.

My manipulation of Mana seems as limited as always it seems. The paltry amount of energy I gain from this technique makes it unsuited for using in my spells and useful only for supplementing my own reserves. Plus, the amount of focus needed to maintain this constant draw and conversion is… undesirable.

It's probably due to this divide in my attention that I fail to notice the building in front of me disappear at first. For a moment, just as I'm about to blink, its form seems to waver, as if a pane of glass between us is bending and distorting the light. Then in the split second that it takes for my eyes to close and reopen, the building is simply gone.

I blink again, my mind struggling to process this unexpected turn of events. Then my foot collides with thin air— what should have been a perfectly solid building— and I fall at breakneck speed towards the neighbouring house.

How did I get myself into this mess?— I ask as I shield my face against the rapidly approaching wall.

The inevitable crunch occurs, the rest of my body following in the metaphorical footsteps of my head, before I tumble back to the ground. At least there's a lovely bed of flowers to cushion my fall.

A bed of flowers in place of a house? What is going on here?

The lily delicately brushing against my face has no answers for me. Instead, it sways before an illusory wind, a gentle dance to soothe my aching soul. I stand up gingerly, eyeing the patch of meadow with a suspicious glare.

"You don't belong here," I tell it. My eyes drift to the street, drawn to the gentle sound of hooves clipping-clopping against the road. A white horse with a spiral horn jutting from its head walks by without a care in the world. "Nor you."

Half expecting there to be a dragon standing behind me, I turn around, only to find something even more out of place. A glittering spire reaching high, high into the sky. Dark but for the lights running across its surface in fine, it bears little but hard edges that should seem crude in design, yet hold an unfathomable elegance in their arrangement. Undoubtedly a masterful work of engineering, hundreds if not thousands of years ahead of our time. "Oh… you definitely don't belong here."

What use is there in questioning what I see anymore? For that matter, can I even trust in the things I do see? The things around me that I have taken to be constants have shown that they can change at the slightest notice and trade places with something that clearly doesn't belong. If that is the case, how can I know dreams from reality?

Do I need to go around expecting the ground to disappear from under me?

"Be prepared for the unexpected…"

Oh, how right you were Illya. But I don't think even you could have expected this.

"Then what can I expect? 'Anything and Everything'."

That's right. In a world that can change at a moment's notice, all I can do is prepare for anything… and not let my surprise paralyse me, no matter what comes.

With newfound focus, I leap back to the safety of the rooftops. Even if there's a chance that the buildings will disappear under my feet, it's still better to take advantage of the superior position while I can.

Throwing a quick glance around me, I continue making my way back to the temple, albeit a little slower this time. The once distant sounds of the rampaging beasts are closer now, piercing screams emanating from all around me. Or at least I think they are… the sounds are carrying strangely, making it hard to determine the direction, or distance of those reverberating voices. They simply sound like they're inside my head… one more reason to be wary, I suppose.

Concerned about the possibility of an ambush, I make sure to be extra vigilant as I dash over the rooftops. That, combined with my attempts to draw in Mana, slows me down more than I'd like, but I consider that a small cost compared to my life.

Before I know it though, I reach a familiar place.

I suppose you could consider it the heart of the city— or one of them, anyway. This is a place where every major path collides, a crossroads leading to my home, my school, Miyama's shopping centre and the Fuyuki bridge. A place that's seen many faces passing by.

Will it ever see those faces again?

The unexpectedly hopeless thought comes to my mind unbidden and is summarily banished. I have no room for such pessimism, only the desire to right the wrongs of this world. This place will see many people again. I will make it so. If I can't do that, I have no right to call myself a hero.

That is the declaration I make, as I stare at one of the nearby houses. There's nothing extraordinary about this house, it being one of the many homes I pass on my way to school. Except…

It's in a state of disarray. The door has been broken in, the windows punched through. Blood is smeared all over the yard, like a child's crude paintings on an otherwise pristine wall.

I know for a fact that if I look inside, I will see what's left of a massacre.

The strangest thing about it is that, despite the clear evidence that someone died here, there's no sign of any remains. Just a thin paste of rapidly congealing life-fluid splattered across every surface.

I elect to move on from this disconcerting scene. There's nothing more to be done here.

Having accidentally strayed further east than I'd like, I take the west-bound road towards the temple. But only a few seconds later, I glance back at the intersection.

There was no particular reasoning for it. I'd neither seen nor heard anything to draw my attention in that direction. It was simply an impulse, an itch I had to scratch before I could bring myself to leave. As it so happens, what I saw in that instant was enough to stop me in my tracks.

It was just the slightest glimpse. Something I could have just chalked up to my overactive imagination or even just a trick of the light. But something told me it was more than that.

Yes. With all certainty, I knew that what I had seen was real. The trail of bloody footprints leading away from that house only served to cement that belief in my mind. Two dozen child-sized footprints leading eastward.

At the entrance of a small sidestreet, their owner turns the corner. With a swish of her nun's habit, the silver haired girl disappears from sight.

A million different thoughts cross my mind in the blink of an eye. Denials and justifications, a multitude of reasons for why I shouldn't trust what I think I just saw, countered by an equal number of voices telling me I should check it out anyway. In the end, one thought rises to the surface, to dominate all the rest.

She is still within reach. Save her.

I dive back down to ground level where I can run unhindered and sprint after the now out-of-sight little girl. I slide to a stop at the side street, a narrow opening that's only wide enough for pedestrians and cyclists to traverse, but nevertheless is well lit.

Or so it would be normally if all the lights weren't out.

The pale moonlight is the only thing illuminating the cramped space. A long road stretches onwards, littered with doorways leading into the buildings on either side, but devoid of all life, bar myself and one other.

Ahead, the silver-haired girl continues to walk down the street, oblivious to everything around her.

"Wait!"

My shout echoes loudly in the silence, my footsteps ringing out like thunderclaps. The distance between us halves and the girl turns.

Eyes like liquid gold glisten with unshed tears. Her small fists are clenched to her chest, minute tremors wracking her entire body. The expression on her face is desperate, vulnerable.

Pleading.

Her mouth forms words, but no sound escapes her. Even so, from the movement of her lips, I can tell what she is trying to say.

Help me.

I stretch out my hand towards her, slowing just before the point of contact.

—Only for her to dissolve into shadows.

Before my very eyes, she disappears like smoke in the wind.

"...No."

Denial is my first response. A crushing sense of defeat and anguish are quick to follow.

There had been someone within my reach. Someone I could still have saved. And I'd failed.

That realisation serves to fan the flames of emotion within me that I had tried so hard to suppress. The fear of my loved ones being harmed. The concern for those that have been lost, spirited away by this phenomenon. The indignation towards those who would disturb our treasured peace.

Those smouldering embers ignite into a blazing pier of incandescent fury. Righteous anger that demands these invaders be erased from existence.

It can be said that there are two sides to the coin that is Justice. The first is Mercy, stemming from one's compassion. The second is something far more suited to the current situation:

Retribution.

As if on cue, the world around me twists. A wave of nausea washes over me as an invisible force presses down on me, driving the air from my lungs.

When everything settles, a chorus of keening howls informs me that I'm no longer alone. Ahead, several wolf-like shades prowl towards me. The clacking of claws on asphalt tells me there's more behind me and a quick glance up shows a number of them on the rooftops too.

So I'm surrounded by an entire pack of beasts, with no avenues of escape. Not an ideal situation, but at this moment I can't say I mind that. It gives me a reason to fight.

"You have made a great mistake coming here. Come… I will be your death."

I issue the challenge and the beasts don't hesitate to answer it. They charge towards me from both directions, eager to be the first to rip me to shreds. In the blink of an eye, they're already on top of me.

My mind shifts gears in a heartbeat. Where my thought processes were previously split between surveillance and deciphering the phenomenon around me, now I devote my whole self to battle. Drawing on all the skill and knowledge I've accumulated, the strategy practically assembles itself.

—Trace on; begin projection—

Motes of blue light swirl at my back, wireframe models of a multitude of swords faintly visible amongst the brilliant glow. But as the beasts draw ever nearer, a pair of blades call out to me, begging to be used. With a wry smile, I call up their image, readying them for duty.

When the beasts behind me draw close enough that the hairs on the back of my neck begin to tingle, I know it's time to act. A small pulse of magical energy is sent out, completing the burgeoning spell. The blue lights resolving into material form and under their own weight, several monstrous blades embed themselves into the ground. The massive towers of steel form a wall strong enough to arrest the beasts' momentum, the blades angled in such a way that the first of the beasts strike them side-on. Carried by their own power and force of those behind them ploughing into their rear, they are driven straight into the razor-sharp blades.

The beasts in front of me are lucky enough to avoid that fate, a similar wall of swords having failed to materialise before them. They are left to approach me at their will, until they are within striking distance.

Then in another flash of light, two swords settle into my hands. A sliver of moonlight and a shard of night streak through the air.

The twin falchions Kanshou and Bakuya carve a path through my foes.

The wall of bodies close in on me, but try as they might, they can't swarm me in the confined space. At most, only three can approach me simultaneously. But in doing so, they leave themselves no opportunity to evade to the side or backwards. Between the beasts' mindless assault and the monster-slaying blades in my hands, it's like shooting fish in a barrel. Dozens of tortured souls are sent to the afterlife within a mere minute, the slowly decaying corpses forming a rather impressive pile.

Then my enhanced hearing picks up a deep groan behind me, underlaid with intermittent cracking noises. It could be nothing, or it could be a sign of impending danger. Either way, I don't want to take any chances.

I summon forth another image and an enormous halberd springs into being. Dropping Kanshou and Bakuya at my feet, I pluck the weapon out of the air and drive back the beasts with a wide full-strength swing. Having given myself some breathing room, I project another set of giant swords to block them off.

Only then do I turn around to inspect the first wall, which seems like it might collapse at any second. The sheer weight of the bodies piling up against it and the increasing number of beasts at the rear look like they'll rip the swords from their anchors at any second. But even if they last, the steadily growing pile of bodies means the beasts will soon be able to just clamber over each other and clear the swords with ease.

Picking up the twin swords, I dispel the first wall of blades, drawing back a portion of the energy I used to make them before it has a chance to dissipate entirely. An avalanche of bodies pour towards me, some lying motionless but most still displaying some semblance of life through their wild thrashing.

I dash in before they have a chance to regain their footing, crippling and maiming as many as I can with well-placed strikes. Unfortunately, their state of confusion doesn't last long and it's back to the systematic culling. The floor beneath my feet quickly becomes slick with the ectoplasmic remains of the fallen, remnants that for some reason linger when all else has faded.

The second wall begins to creak just as the first did, another warning that my barrier is about to be overcome. I spit out a curse coarse enough to earn me a few stern words from Fuji-nee and repeat my earlier act of driving back the beasts, putting up the wall and turning to face the opposite direction.

"What—"

There are more of them.

Far from their numbers being thinned by my efforts, there are even more enemies on this side than there were to start with. I suppose this is what I get for drawing them out earlier with my reckless sprint. Or maybe they were drawn here by the sounds of combat, or multiplied like those others I saw before? Regardless, things are going to be more difficult than I had anticipated.

Just as that thought crosses my mind, a shimmering in my peripheral vision catches my eye. Instinctively, I know things are about to get much worse. I turn my head towards the wall building on my left—

Which promptly disappears.

"...Oh no."

One of the obstacles stopping the beasts' advance vanishes. In its wake, a small number of the beasts edge around the now compromised wall of swords.

Before another larger wall of swords blocks them off, sealing the barrier again.

A hot flush runs through my body, my circuits protesting the sudden draw of energy. The slight tingling in my fingertips reminds me of the consequences of overusing my magic.

This is bad. Not just inconvenient, but outright dangerous.

I'd already used far too much of my energy with my rooftop antics, which I hadn't had any time to recover from. The enemy numbers only seem to grow while my constant reinforcement and projections sap my strength. Even my surroundings are against me, the structures that I've been relying on for defence fading away without a trace.

And quite possibly the worst thing of all, the beasts on the rooftops have still yet to make a move. They simply stand and watch, as if waiting for me to take a chance and jump up there with them. Whether by design or by chance, they've laid quite the effective trap. Does that indicate some base level of intelligence, or an acting force giving them commands?

To say I've been reckless is a gross understatement. In fact, I might have just backed myself into a corner that I can't escape.

I grit my teeth, a single drop of sweat trickling down my temple. The situation has changed. Fighting defensively is no longer the best strategy. If I'm to survive this, I either have to kill them all or fight my way to freedom. Brute force methodology… it'll have to do.

I project another copy of that nameless halberd and run a magic current through it, casting a reinforcement spell to slightly lower its weight and increase its durability. I don't need it to do anything fancy— as long as I can swing it again and again without it breaking and forcing me to project another weapon, then it'll suffice.

While performing a basic breathing exercise to prepare my mind, I turn my attention to my body. Other than some minor wear and tear from the continued strain of reinforced motion and combat, I've otherwise managed to avoid injury, which is a relief in itself. It should make this next step easier.

Cycling my magical energy through my body, I renew the current reinforcement spell I've placed on myself, redistributing the energy to where it's needed most.

Minor reinforcement of the eyes to take in visual stimuli. Moderate reinforcement of the ear canal to take in auditory stimuli. Moderate reinforcement of the brain for heightened cognitive processing. Maximum reinforcement of the skin for extra durability. Maximum reinforcement to bones, muscles and ligaments for increased physical performance.

I'm left practically on empty after using so much magical energy in one go. But as long as I limit myself to maintaining the reinforcement, it should be enough to last.

The air begins to pulse rhythmically, my vision swimming as the space around me distorts. It's a sensation I've come to associate with the world warps, but given that the effect is looping repeatedly, I imagine it's going to bring about some more extreme changes this time. In that case, now is as good a time as any to go on the offensive.

Pushing aside my reservations, I dispel all of my projected weapons bar the one in my hands, drawing back every bit of magical energy I can get my hands on. Then the horde of monsters washes over me like a tidal wave.

I shift my grip on the halberd's haft and widen my stance. The tension in my body builds as I twist my upper body, then release it all explosively in one go as I pivot on one foot, swinging the halberd in a full circle around me. The axe blade swings low, not so much cutting as crumpling the heads of the first wave of beasts.

The battle devolves into utter chaos from that moment. I drive back the shades with wide, powerful swings, as they search for an opportunity to slip inside my guard. Their claws and fangs yearn for my flesh, yet I drive them back with relentless attacks. All offence, no defence: such is my new mantra. A protracted fight isn't something I can afford now. My only hope is to blow through the enemy as fast as I can, to forge a path to safety.

A path back to that distant mountain peak.

To that end, I doggedly march forwards, evading attacks where I can and shrugging off those I can't. One shade's jaws clamp down on my left calf, but their jagged teeth struggle to find purchase and only leave some light scoring. A lucky swipe opens a narrow gash on my ribs. The pain is dull compared to some of the injuries I've sustained before, but even so, it's not insignificant. A red mist descends on my vision— some sort of berserker rage maybe?

Or not. Things are simply shifting once again.

When the red mist parts, everything has changed. A white fog surrounds me on all sides, my field of view reduced to a small bubble around me. Ghostly images of blackened trees break up the blur of white, smudges of ink of an otherwise blank canvas.

Unperturbed by the sudden change of scenery, the beasts mindlessly continue their assault, forcing me onto the back foot. Gritting my teeth, I put more power into my swings in an effort to drive them back. Beyond simply defending myself, I still see a chance of escape. Though it may be out of sight, my senses are telling me that safety is within reach, just beyond this wall of mist. So I plough through the beasts before me with hammer-like blows, putting one foot before the other.

Perhaps half a minute later, the red mist descends once again and the world around me undergoes yet another transition, one of many to come.

I stand in an open field, in a world where technology has yet to evolve past the medieval era. Proud castles stand in place of Fuyuki and regiments of Samurai drill in the fields, until a signal goes up and the fledgling warriors fall into formation at the sight of an unknown force.

Another flash and I arrive in a world where the arrival of an extraterrestrial object accelerated the growth of Humanity to levels beyond anything I could have possibly imagined. Amongst futuristic towers and flying cars, the battle continues on.

Atop the ruins of a hilltop civilisation, the crumbling stones of what might have been a great keep bears witness to one more battle.

It doesn't end there— dozens of worlds flash before my eyes, showing me glimpses of things could have been, paths that our world could have taken if only things had gone a little differently. The terrain is rarely the same; deserts, jungles, open prairies and places that could quite possibly be alien in origin. And everywhere I go, the beasts follow.

But against all odds, I notice that the beasts' numbers are thinning. Even as my limbs are shaking with exertion, I dispatch the last few stragglers, my battered and dulled weapon falling from my limp fingers.

My breath comes unevenly, the gash on my side smarting with the slightest motion of my chest. Once my breathing starts to settle and the dark spots in my vision fade, I turn my attention back to my surroundings.

My inexplicably, absurdly barren surroundings. Wherever this is, it's clearly not Fuyuki City anymore. Maybe not even Japan either.

Everywhere I look, the glassy sheen of water reflects the fading light of a setting sun. A level plain of white sand extends into the distance, while high above my head great streaky clouds race across the sky. Yet, for all the speed those clouds have, not a breath of wind touches me. This place is… serene in a way I've never known before.

I stand there for quite some time, just watching the clouds roll by. But after a while, I start to get a little restless. How long am I going to be subjected to this empty world?

With little else to do, I start to wander aimlessly in the hope that I'll find some way to escape this place, though I no longer feel like home is within reach. Each step rings out hollow, the sound of my footsteps muted and unsuited to the surface I tread on. The unchanging landscape plays havoc with my senses making it seem as if time itself is standing still.

After what feels like hours, something finally changes. Whether it's as a result of something I've done or something else entirely is not immediately obvious, but regardless, something changes. Without me realizing it, the clouds have scattered and blotted out the sky, while white specks drift down from above. A biting wind tears through my tattered clothes and steals the warmth from my bones. The sandy flats have given way to rugged hillocks, indistinct streaks of green marring the otherwise colourless landscape.

Ignoring the peculiarities of being dropped off somewhere completely unfamiliar, at least I can say it's pretty normal in comparison to some of the things I saw earlier this night. But that just leaves me with one question:

Where the hell am I?

Now there you have it. After lingering all too long on the prologue, this is where things get interesting... not just for you guys, but for me also, since I now have to write about a fictional character in a country I've never so much as visited. Oh boy.

For things I want to quickly mention about this chapter, there's not an awful lot at the moment. First, Shirou's use of Mana... I haven't managed to find definitive proof that he can or can't use it, so for this fic I'm going with the headcanon that he can, but at a reduced level due to the nature of his magic.

Speaking of magic, I've started replaying the Fate/SN VN to recap and found a particular scene that confused me greatly. I won't go into detail right here for people who haven't played it, but it's regarding the final confrontation of UBW. If anyone who's familiar with it could PM me and help clear up some things, I'd appreciate it. (I also may or may not have a couple of questions or so regarding certain aspects of Shirou's other abilities, but they're secondary for now).

A big thanks to Berix for proofreading this chapter... and just generally offering advice on a lot of other things too. You're a lifesaver.

And finally, my first fic on this site officially turned 1-year old last month, so... happy anniversary to me?

As always let me know your thoughts. Did you like this chapter or did you hate it? Please leave any suggestions or any mistakes you've spotted in a review. I... think that's it for now. Wow, a nice short closing AN for once.

Ciao.

If you like what you read here, please consider supporting me on P.A.T.R.E.O.N.

P a treon TheEternalEscapist