A battle will only end with a winner and a loser. Often times, the one's who lose most are those caught in between. Yet all, be it the winner, or the loser, will lose something important to them, whether it's a part of themselves, or a person more precious to them than the world. So why then is it that mankind continues to fight, to wage war, and do battle? Why do battles continue to occur? Why can't people put aside their individual differences and strive for a method of peace?

Time and time again, I have saved countless people caught in between war zones. Time and time again, those who I had saved lost to the hatred and enacted revenge towards those who wronged them. Regardless, I still continue to save them, for saving people is never wrong; it is what an ally of justice would do. Even as I lay here battered, wounded and dying, I have no regrets.

It had been several years ago when I was a child that I remember slowly trudging through a flaming wasteland, ignoring all the disembodied pleas for help. The buildings, cars, roads, anything the eye could see, were burning. Half charred corpses littered the area, their gaunt expressionless faces piercing dagger like holes on my back. Yet, I continued to trudge on, not caring, slowly losing parts of myself that even I didn't know about.

I became an empty husk, hollow was my mind, and my strength had all but left me. I had not known when my knees gave out on me causing me to plummet to the ground, perhaps it was when I realized I could no longer continue forward through the use of my legs. But, I continued on, pulling myself forward through the use of my arms.

Ash covered my body wherever I went, slowly coating me in a fine layer of black. It had taken a minute or two for my mind to process, to comprehend, that I was no longer moving, slowly becoming another corpse by the road. It was then that I gave up. My legs would not move, my arms too tired to lift; if I were to die, then so be it.

I had blacked out by that point, but occasionally I gained back consciousness. It was on one of these occasions that a black haired man in a trench coat appeared before me, crying. He pulled me into a tight hug, all the while smiling a radiant smile, as if he was the happiest man in the world. That smile, that happiness, could I have it I began to wonder. He set me down back on the hard ground, and did something to me that caused the numbness and pain in my body to dissipate. I later found out that what he did would save me time, and time again.

As the pain and numbness left me, fatigue and drowsiness began to take its toll on me. I looked up at the man still sporting that radiant smile, and little did I know that this memory would later become one of the greatest supports to my ideals.

The man took me in, clothed me, gave me a place to call home, and gave me a name, Shirou Emiya-for I no longer had one. In time, the man, Kiritsugu Emiya, became my role model, my hero, and above all, my father. We lived in relative peace, and often times I would be the one doing all the house chores because of a sickness that seemed to plague Kiritsugu. But that didn't stop him from going for his monthly trips to Russia from Fuyuki City. He never told me why, but I would later find out.

I had grown accustomed to our daily life, becoming somewhat of a master chef in cooking; never once failing to draw the attention of one Taiga Fujimura as I began to set plates of food down. Taiga first began to frequent our home when her grandfather Raiga Fujimura brought her along to a friendly gathering between him and Kiritsugu. Not long after, she began frequenting our home. It wasn't a surprise to me when I began to start setting extra plates on the dinner table as a habit.

It was when I was seven, or eight that I discovered the existence of magecraft from Kiritsugu. I expressed interest in the art, but Kiritsugu was adamant in his refusals. Eventually though, he began teaching me the basics of the basics of magic, however little it was. Sadly, he died a few years later from the unknown sickness that plagued him.

On the day of Kiritsugu's death he had told me of his dream to become a "Hero of Justice"- a person who could save everyone. And I wholeheartedly agreed. His ideal, his dream, became my own. I would become a hero, an ally of justice that saves everyone. For my life, a life that disregarded the lives of others, when compared to anothers, can never be greater than theirs. Though I was sad and frustrated with his death, there was nothing I could do.

As the years went by without Kiritsugu, I continued to practice mage craft in secret, as well as help those in need of help; later getting the nickname "fake school janitor" from those around me. It was in the first year of high school that I met a girl named Sakura Matou, and befriended her. Sakura is a purple haired girl who is normally seen wearing the Fuyuki High school uniform. She has been visiting my house ever since our first meeting.

It was on the start of my second year of high school that I was dragged into a war in every sense of the word. The Holy Grail War, a war where seven servants are summoned by seven masters to fight with them in a life or death battle for a wish granting grail. The servants summoned were each put into specific class types, Archer, Saber, Rider, Caster, Berserker, Lancer, and Assassin; each formidable in their own right.

My start to the war had not been pretty. Then again, a spear through the heart never is, but I was saved, saved by none other than Rin Tohsaka, a master in the upcoming war. She wore a red sweater, a short skirt, black stockings, and has black hair tied up in pigtails. Had she known that I would later become another master, she might not have saved me, but in the end, she did. I summoned servant saber not long after.

After many battles and skirmishes, I discovered Sabers true name. Arturia Pendragon, better known as King Arthur, but instead of a he, it was a she. It was around this time that I also discovered Rin's servant, archer's true identity. I had not believed a word of what that imposter had said. Saving people is never wrong, my ideals are not just borrowed; to me, they are my own. Some how, someway, I was able to convince Archer of my ideals during a duel between him and I.

Over the course of the war, many hidden mysteries came to light. For instance, the reason Kiritsugu would often leave for Russia, the reason why he died, and the precious artifact he placed inside of me.

Illyasviel von Einzbern, Kiritsugu's biological daughter, was the cause of Kiritsugu's frequent trips to Russia. He was trying to obtain her from the Einzbern's, but couldn't locate the area. Even if he had, Kiritsugu had grown weak, no longer in his prime, mostly due to the deterioration of his magic circuits. Being as magic circuits are what generate the prana needed to perform a magus's mysteries, it can be concluded that Kiritsugu wouldn't have had enough strength to rescue Illya; since prana is the energy used to actualize a magus's mysteries.

The deterioration of his magic circuits caused by the curse of the Holy Grail is what ultimately killed Kiritsugu. Though magic circuits are akin to a magus's capacity to perform mysteries, there is something even more important. Magic circuits reside within the magus's soul, and the body is only a physical expression of them that stretches throughout the body in a way similar to the nervous system. Since the body is only a physical expression of a magus's magic circuits, the deterioration of them would be fatal.

What Kiritsugu gave to me on the day of the great fire as I lay on the ash covered ground was none other than Avalon, the scabbard of Excalibur. Without it, I wouldn't have been able to summon Saber in time to save my life from Lancer, the servant of the lance. It has healed me time and time again from the gravest of injuries, from deep laceration on my chest, to being stabbed right through the torso. It seemed that even in death, Kiritsugu could still save me.

The war ended after I battled the strongest servant of the Holy Grail War, Gilgamesh, the king of heroes, and king of Uruk. I went into battle against him alone, and servantless, while Rin and Saber who was now Rin's servant after our encounter with Caster, rescued my former friend Shinji Matou. If not for Rin making a contract with me to give me mana, the use of my reality marble, and Archer's timely intervention, I wouldn't have won against Gilgamesh.

The fight with Gilgamesh also proved invaluable to my dream to become an ally of justice, due to the use of structural grasping, projection, and reinforcement. These spells, though they are the only ones I can cast, led me to my own form of magecraft, Tracing. I had discovered this skill during my fight with Caster.

Tracing, a higher form of projection magic that completely copies everything regarding the creation and existence of the object; letting me create near perfect copies of the originals as well as copy the moves of its previous owners. Gilgamesh's treasury, his "Gates of Babylon" provided me a multitude of weaponry. All of them stored into my reality marble, the "Unlimited Blade Works" after a single glance.

At the end of the war, Saber stayed with Rin and I, maintaining corporal form due to her contract with Rin. Rin being the aspiring magus that she was decided to join the Clock Tower in Europe after graduating from Fuyuki High school, bringing Saber and I with her. Life in the Clock Tower wasn't so bad, aside from being looked down upon by those who believed us to be inferior because of our Asian descent; still though, life continued as usual.

Over the years, I grew to love Saber, and Rin, just as much as I loved helping others. It was nearly a decade later that we became a happy couple, even going as far as to have kids on the way. More often than not though, we found ourselves separated due to our fields of work. I might not have told you yet, but I am a third rate magus whose only note worthy skill is in the field of projection, and not much else. This being the case, I was more suited to being an enforcer while Rin and saber worked most of the day in the Clock Tower.

It was during my duties as an enforcer that I began to see the evil in the world. It was here that I began to understand what Archer had meant about the impossibility of my ideals, but unlike Archer, I would never give up on them. To do so would be betraying myself, and denying one of my reasons to live. So I continued to save those that needed saving, to save those who couldn't save themselves.

I have walked through countless battlefields, saving as many lives as I can, be they a victim of war, or a supernatural occurrence. All battlefields that I have crossed had one thing in common; the victims who I had saved were consumed in hatred and took revenge on those they believed to have wronged them. As a result, the loved ones of those that they had taken revenge on, in turn, took revenge back, creating a never ending cycle of pain. Still though, I don't regret saving those lives.

As of a few hours ago, I had been battling a dead apostle, allies fleeing in fear of their lives, leaving me to fight alone. It had been a random mission, to check up on a sealing designate gone rogue in northern Italy. The sealing designate in particular was a man that I defeated and brought to the Clock Tower as a direct order from the head enforcer. Apparently, the man, to further his own mysteries, experimented on young kids, and teenagers, nearly revealing the existence of magic in the process. He was swiftly captured and brought to the Clock Tower. Whatever the Clock Tower discovered about his magecraft couldn't have been good if it was serious enough to warrant him to become a sealing designate.

The mission had been going well, until the sealing designate himself showed up, laughing hysterically, all the while proclaiming to the night skies, that it was complete. I was the first to engage the man, tracing Kanshou and Bakuya as I reinforced my body using reinforcement. The man didn't even try to move as I slashed at him. If possible, the man laughed even harder upon seeing me, disregarding the new deep and open laceration on his chest. Not a second later, the man fell face first onto the ground, fingers spontaneously twitching. I had thought that things would end there, but I was wrong. No sooner than when I had turned around, a hand pierced through my chest, just barely missing my heart.

The others instantly went into action, years of experience dictating where they positioned themselves. As for me, I made distance as soon as I felt the sharp pain of the man retracting his hand from my chest. I shouldn't have been so careless; I should have made sure that the man was dead before turning around. Was it because I didn't wish to look at the 'dead body' any longer than I had to? Or was it something else entirely, but these were questions for another time.

Quickly, I rushed at the man, while the others were preparing their various combat spells. I made for a horizontal slash with Kanshou, but the man simply took a wide step back, managing to avoid the sharp end of the blade. I continued to hack, slash, and pierce, but he was somehow dodging everything; all the while my blood poured out of me like a fountain.

Suddenly he did something very peculiar. He ran a steady hand over the area were my blood stained his clothing and brought it to his mouth, revealing a set of elongated fangs. 'Dead Apostle' was the thought in everyone's minds, but how can that be possible? I'm a hundred percent certain that he was human the last time I brought him in, unless...his magecraft!

It's no wonder that he got designated; his research was about becoming a Dead Apostle. If he did in fact, become a Dead Apostle then this situation is not to my advantage. My chest is still bleeding profusely, and not even Avalon can heal it fast enough for me to fight. Regardless, I will fight to save my comrades.

The only advantage in this situation is that the man just became a Dead Apostle, meaning that he shouldn't be all that strong since he doesn't have multiple years of experience to back his magecraft. Still though, Dead Apostles are nothing to laugh at. They still possess inhuman physical abilities, and are hard to kill.

I was wrong. I was wrong to assume that the man's magecraft was weak. With one incantation, the man obliterated half of our forces, the rest were injured to a small degree. Many of the ones who died were the more experienced enforcers, leaving behind most of the inexperienced rookies. Those rookies, easily panicked, began to flee. And this is where I was presently, fighting alone, with an injury that could prove fatal.

I had discovered from the man's first use of his magecraft that he could not cast it without gaining sufficient room between himself and his targeted opponent. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to be caught up in his own spell. So I engaged him in close quarters combat, his vampire claws and reflexes managing to land significant blows on me. I had tried using various noble phantasms to put the man down, but it seems another part of his magecraft involved reversing time on certain parts of his body to heal injuries. Injured and bleeding, I realized there was only one possible way to win with minimal loss of life to the surrounding area.

"I am the bone of my sword." I began, as I stopped channeling prana to Avalon, and directed it towards the projection of my reality marble; my twenty seven magic circuits coming to life, generating the prana needed to actualize my reality. It had been Sabers idea for me to keep the scabbard after I returned home from an Apostle hunt badly wounded, but now that I think about it, it's probably what's been keeping me alive.

"Steel is my body and fire is my blood." The Dead Apostle stopped laughing, looking at me closely.

"I have created over a thousand blades." I traced Kanshou and Bakuya, and threw them in an arc towards the Apostle, quickly creating another copy and throwing those as well.

"Unaware of loss, nor aware of gain." I engaged the Apostle with another pair of Kanshou and Bakuya, keeping him on the retreat as the multiple copies of Kanshou and Bakuya began to converge on him. I jumped high into the air, the full moon at my back.

"Withstood pain to create weapons, waiting for ones arrival." I flooded Kanshou and Bakuya with prana, far surpasing the amount the blades could hold. As a result it became unstable, broken, becoming twice the size of its original form. Feather like splinters cover the blades from ridge to edge, giving the impression of wings.

"I have no regrets. This is the only path." I began my descent, swinging Kanshou and Bakuya down in a wide arc as the other copies converged on the Apostle at the very same moment. An ear deafening explosion sends small ripples through the ground of Northern Italy, yet it was still not enough. The Apostle, though only his torso and head were left, simply reversed time on himself to time were his injuries were non-existent.

"My whole life was...Unlimited Blade Works." Fire shot out around me, consuming me, my opponent, and everything in its path. In its wake, the world was now surrounded by endless swords; be they legendary, nameless, or ordinary weaponry. The sky, though it appeared normal, is a fiery orange in color. The only other structure to be found is a lone hill out near the horizon. This is my reality marble, a reflection of my inner world, my soul brought to life.

"How can this be? For you just a mere human to have a reality marble, it's absurd!" The Apostle shouted, no longer was he laughingly enjoying the moment. "Only a few could ever hope of achieving such a mystery, yet you, you, How!?"

"I'm distorted." I began focusing on the creation and projection of famed noble phantasms, and nameless weapons. The open space behind me soon began to fill with ominous weaponry, my creation not just limited to swords. Spears, axes, halberds, lances, shields, and other weapons of the sort began filling the air behind me. Some cursed by blood, and others the holiest of weaponry.

It had been Rin who flat out informed me of my distortion in the middle of a battle field, frustrated that I took yet another blow meant for her. "Why can't you ever think about yourself?" She had said while calling Saber over to increase Avalon's regenerative rate. At the time my brain wasn't functioning as well as it should have due to the loss of blood, and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "My life is not worth yours, Saber's, or any others."

They had looked at me in disbelief and outrage at my clear lack of self preservation. They had tried valiantly afterwards to correct my way of thinking, only for me to deny them because it was who I am. Finally, Rin looked me in the eyes and said with a hint of regret and sorrow, that I am distorted; Later making me promise her and Saber one thing, "Don't die".

"Trace on, continues fire!" Noble phantasms and weapons of all kinds poured down on the Apostle in a never ending barrage of steel, the noise resembling the sound of a hammer striking nails. When the sounds of cursing could no longer be heard, I stopped firing to maintain what little prana I had left.

"Do you really think that I would simply die? Fool, no longer am I just a mere mortal, no, I have transcended into a higher being, a Dead Apostle." He lunged at me, his vampire claws primed to rip out my throat. I proceeded by side stepping to the right and smashing a reinforced fist to his face, sending him flying a long distance away. Suddenly he started laughing again, and in a moment of clarity I realized why. He was far enough away to utilize his strongest mystery.

No sooner than I had managed to process my grave error, he actualized his mystery. Raising both of his arms into the air, he began to chant a strange rhythmic incantation. The air around him began to distort as pure prana was generated into a giant sphere forming directly above him. The sphere was massive, at least as large as a house, but it had yet to stop. Strange runes began to encircle the growing sphere, glowing in an eerie red light.

As the runes finished encircling the sphere-which was now double of its previous size, it began pulsing blue light. Each pulse compressed the prana sphere smaller and smaller; making the prana denser and denser, stopping when the sphere became baseball sized. Almost as soon as it had the Apostle grabbed it from the air, and threw it straight at me.

Reacting more on instinct than logical reasoning, I projected Rho Aias, and flooded the seven petal shield with as much prana as possible. The attack struck Rho Aias and exploded on impact. The force of the explosion was so great that it reduced the seven petal shield to a mere two petals. My ribs had all but broken as the the third petal was penetrated; next came my left thai, followed by my left arm and kidney, yet I still remained standing. I had to end this fast.

"Enkidu!" Golden chains suddenly sprouted from behind the Apostle, binding him in place, but it would not hold for very long. Quickly taking action I traced my strongest noble phantasm; one with enough power to annihilate the Apostle to prevent him from utilizing his mystery to heal himself. After a glimpse of the sword the Apostle tried even harder to break out of the chains, channeling as much prana as he can into his limbs. Raising the sword up I invoked its holy name as I swung it down.

"Excalibur!" A beam of pure holy light erupted from the tip of the sword, straight towards the bound Apostle, taking with it all of my remaining prana. The Apostle, bound and helpless was consumed in its holy light, leaving behind nothing but empty ground.

Excalibur, the sword of promised victory wielded by Arturia Pendragon, better known as King Arthur, is my strongest noble phantasm. Although I can trace Excalibur its power is nothing compared to the originals, but even a portion of Excalibur's power is destructive enough to destroy almost anything.

All around me, cracks began to appear on the far reaches of my reality marble as I fell in and out of consciousness from my position on the ground. I had swiftly fallen as the last of my prana was used during my attack, and I did not have the energy to get up. Injured and severely bleeding with no prana to increase Avalon's regenerative rate, I lay dying; remembering the path that brought me here. I felt a presence approaching my location.

"You do not have to die mortal." said a voice from above me. "You can still realize your dream to become an ally of justice." I looked up from where I lay to see nothing but my crumbling reality marble.

"Who are you?" I looked around for the source of the voice.

"I go by many names Shirou Emiya, but most call me Alaya, or the will of humanity." The voice came from nowhere, but at the same time everywhere. When it seemed like I pinpointed the location of the voice, the voice would sound from a different location.

"What do you want with me?"

"Want I want from you, Shirou Emiya, is to come to an agreement, a contract of sorts."

"Will I still be able to save people, to become a hero of justice?"

"That, and whatever you wish, but know that you will serve under me as a counter guardian after your death."

I thought it over. On one hand I could continue to pursue my dream, my ideal, but on the other hand an image of Archer came to mind. A man who turned his back on his ideals after countless years as a counter guardian.

"I'm sorry, but I decline your offer." I don't know why I declined; perhaps it was due to the efforts of Rin and Saber, or my extreme revoltion to becoming anything remotely similar to Archer. Ultimately though, I chose to die rather than continue to save people. I wonder if Rin and Saber would ever find out that their efforts paid off enough that in the end I chose to die.

"I see, that's too bad, you would have been a wonderful edition to my counter guardians." Alaya said before Alaya's presence could no longer be felt.

"So this is it huh? At least I died saving others, following my ideals through till the end." My body began to go numb, and the constant pain of my injuries could no longer be felt. "I'm sorry Rin, Saber, and to my unborn children. I broke the only promise I swore...never to...b-break."

I died on a hill of swords. My body matted with numerous injuries, and covered in pool of my own blood; My red turning white hair covered in dirt and grime.

I had believed that death would lead to an end, but not a beginning. I was in, from what I could tell, was a black void. My movement was restricted, my senses far from good. I could hear noises, but they were too muffled to comprehend. Subconsciously, I began to reinforce my body for fear of danger. No sooner than I had, I realized that I could feel a secondary energy forming inside me; prompting me to use structural grasping on myself.

What I had discovered left me confused and reeling. Though my magic circuits and mentality were still the same, my body was replaced with the body of an infant. Judging from my restricted limbs and lack of sight, it was safe to say that I was still in the womb. Time had an odd way of passing in the womb, I could not even tell whether a day had passed or not.

Often times I entertained myself by practicing using my prana, and toying with the strange new energy. The more I had used the new energy the larger it seemed to have become. Curious I decided to experiment with reinforcing myself with it, remarkably, it worked; causing me to try various other experiments with it, making it grow even larger. I would have to remind myself to try tracing with it when I would inevitably leave the womb.

I don't know how much time had passed, but something had begun to happen. The walls of the womb, which I had taken to feeling occasionally, began to apply pressure on me; changing the position of my body. Suddenly the walls around me squeezed, pushing me out of the womb; each squeeze pushing me further and further out. The pressure was suffocating, if not for me reinforcing my body, I could of died before I even got out.

As I was released from my nine month home, I was assaulted by the coldness of the outside air, but I was promptly wrapped up in a blanket. There was a flurry of activity occurring around me, but my eyes had not yet developed enough to see. My pudgy arms and legs felt heavy and hard to move, but I was slightly able to twitch my fingers, if only even a little. In my situation, I couldn't help but feel defenseless. From the way people were talking, I assumed I was born in Japan, but I would later know otherwise.

Abruptly I got the idea to try and reinforce my eyes. Even though I reinforced them, everything around me was still a blur, aside from things that were relatively close to me. From my position in the blanket I could only look up at the ceiling, the occasional arm passing through my line of sight. A red haired woman soon picked me up and held me in a cradle, tucking my face gently onto her shoulder; taking me to someplace else.

"It's a boy Shizuka-sama." Said the woman carrying me as she handed me over to another woman sitting up on a bed.

"Thank you Tsuki." said Shizuka as she positioned me on her lap. I took a moment to look and observe her face as much as my reinforced eyes would let me. She had vibrant red hair left untamed to cascade down her back and a violet pair of eyes. It was when her mouth opened to form a tender smile that I realized that she was the one who gave birth to me, my mother. I had mixed feelings on this. I don't recall ever having a mother and it felt strange to suddenly have one, but at the same time, I basked in the feeling of love washing over me.

"What will you name him?"

"Give me a moment, this is a very important question." My mother raised me to her face rubbing her cheek against mine, and finally she looked at me. "Shirou, he shall be named Shirou. Shirou Uzumaki."

"Thats a lovely name Shizuka-sama." Tsuki began writing on something

"I know right, it's a great name. Speaking of which, why do you still refer to me as "sama" you know I'm not one for honorifics."

"It is only right to refer to the main family as "sama"." The sound of a door bursting open catches my attention. Without warning a young red haired girl jumps into my line of vision, smiling brightly.

"Kushina! behave yourself. Your mother needs rest." said a masculine voice from the direction of the opened door.

"Buuut toouu-san, I just wanted to see if what you said about babies being born from a kiss is true, since you and kaa-san kiss a lot." said Kushina as she pouted in front of me. "And I wanted to meet my new brother born from a kiss!"

"So now do you believe that babies are born from kisses?"

"Yes!"

"So now do you understand to never kiss a boy until he has proven himself to me, or I approve of him?"

"Yes tou-san. I understand." Kushina nodded resolutely.

My mother began laughing, the vibrations from her chest sending a warm feeling through my infant body. "That's enough Toma, no need to confuse Kushina with your jokes." She said between giggles.

"Oh no, I most definitely was not joking." Toma said sternly. "Speaking of which, what did you name our boy?"

"Shirou, Shirou Uzumaki."