"What do you mean, 'he's gone'?!"

The land before him reminded him of a place he once knew. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, casting long shadows over a barren mountaintop. Everything had been stripped away, the power of Excalibur unleashed having proved too much for the forest to withstand.

The final battle was over, as was his entire reason for existing. He was fading fast, the last vestiges of his magical energy draining away. But he couldn't disappear so quickly… there was one last thing he had to do first.

"I mean exactly that," Archer's expression was uncharacteristically neutral, even if he was cringing internally. "When Saber destroyed the Grail, it resorted to absorbing Gilgamesh in an attempt to prolong its own existence. Both he and the boy were swallowed by the hole the Grail left behind. I'm sorry, but he's dead."

His words sounded harsh even to his own ears, but they were necessary. He needed to make it clear on no uncertain terms that Shirou was gone, or his former Master would no doubt tear herself up trying to find him. Few things were more cruel than false hope after all.

"...You're wrong."

"Rin, I may not like the boy, but even so I wouldn't lie to you about something like this. Being the bearer of bad news brings me no pleasure, but trust me, there's no way he could survive inside the Grail. You need to accept that and move on."

"You're wrong!" she repeated, stronger this time. "He's alive, I know it."

Archer hissed through his teeth. "You're as headstrong as ever, I see. Now, tell me… why are you so adamant that he's in fact still kicking?"

"...My Crest," Rin muttered. "There's still a connection between us. It's faint, but there's still trace amounts of my magical energy going… somewhere. If Shirou had truly died then surely the connection would have been severed—"

"Hold on one moment. You gave him your Crest?"

"Yes, I did."

"And because something is draining your mana, you've come to the conclusion that he's still alive?!"

"Yes."

That brought Archer up short. His first thought was that Rin's mind had shattered from the sudden shock, because everything she had just said was insane. First admitting quite openly that she'd given away her family Crest to someone who should have been an incompatible host, then confidently stating that she believed the brat was still alive somehow. Those weren't empty words to reassure herself, she genuinely believed everything she'd said to be true.

Perhaps the boy's blind optimism had rubbed off on her a little too much.

Pressure started to build behind Archer's eyes as he thought of his next words. He would break down those delusions of hers if it was the last thing he did… and given the rate that he was disappearing now, that was very likely to be the case.

"Rin, listen to me—"

"I would save your breath, Archer. It seems her mind is made up."

The calm bell-like voice blew away the words on the tip of his tongue. "Saber?"

She had abandoned her armour for the white blouse/blue skirt combo she had taken to wearing as Shirou's Servant, but just like him, she too was fading. The fact that he hadn't noticed her sooner was shameful, but maybe it was in part because she hadn't wanted to be seen just yet. She had done her duty and destroyed the Grail as commanded. Had she wanted to, she could have willed herself out of existence by then and disappeared.

Yet she had stayed behind, wishing to watch over the two of them for a while longer.

"Is it true?"

"...Yes. Had I arrived a few seconds earlier, I could have saved him. But…"

He trailed off then, as there was no need to say the rest. The words 'I failed' proved unnecessary when the outcome was already known.

Saber nodded gravely, the tenseness around her eyes betraying the sorrow that hid behind her kingly mask. He knew for a fact that that was the only indication of her feelings that she would allow herself - she wasn't one to burden others with her own suffering, not if she could help it.

Camelot may have long since fallen, but some things never change. Just as she'd sought to protect those that had served her, protecting the one she now served mattered no less.

Casual displays of affection weren't something Saber was accustomed to giving out, but she put her arm around Rin even so, drawing the girl into what she hoped was a comforting embrace. Rin started at the sudden contact, but otherwise didn't show much in the way of a reaction.

"So, he's really gone then…" said Rin, shakily.

"...Yes."

Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Rin slumped forward. The desperate light in her eyes dimmed, the final pillar of hope that she had been clinging to having collapsed from under her. All at once, the exhaustion that she'd pushed out of her mind came crashing back, crushing her under its oppressive weight.

He's gone. I failed, again, as I always do.

That had always been her downfall. She was a prodigy - that's what some would say. A talent the likes of which was only ever seen once a century, someone who could do things that defied all expectations. And yet, no matter how hard she tried, nor how meticulous her plans, she always stumbled at the final hurdle.

The world was saved, but not without cost. In exchange for the many millions that would have succumbed to the curses of All The World's Evils, a single person - an incompetent third-rate magus, the partner who had fight and bled by her side, the idealistic fool who had inexplicably wormed his way into her heart - was lost.

It was a price too high to be paid.

She wept silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then her training imposed itself and she doubled over to hide her face, the sign of her weakness.

Archer glanced at his former Master, then raised his eyes to share a helpless look with Saber. Neither of them were accustomed to comforting others, Saber least of all. The perfect king she had strived to be had had no room for things like pity or compassion and the vigilante who'd devoted most of his life to fighting… well, he rarely took the time to spare a thought for those he'd saved. Once a threat had been dealt with, he'd moved on, leaving the survivors to fend for themselves.

Moreover, was it even his place to try to assuage her grief? After he had so selfishly severed his connection to her and abandoned her in her time of need? He had taken the trust that had slowly built up between them and trodden it into the mud.

Pathetic.

Someone like him had no right to console the girl. Maybe he should have taken the opportunity to kill the brat after all, if only to prevent further heartache.

"That's fine. If he's lost to me, then I'll just have to bring him back."

"Huh?"

Saber echoed his expression of shock, gazing with uncertainty at her Master's back. Rin straightened, her momentary show of weakness forgotten. Her eyes were hard as steel, unwavering in their determination. A sentiment that her entire posture seemed to radiate.

"If he thinks he can get away from me that easily, he's got another thing coming," she said softly. Then, louder: "I'll bring him back, whatever it takes. Even if I have to master the Third Magic and re-create his very soul."

Archer swallowed audibly. "Rin, you can't just—"

"In that case, it would be remiss of me to disappear at this point in time."

"Saber!"

Rin eyed her Servant searchingly. "Does that mean you want to help me? There's no telling what that might entail, you know."

"Be that as it may, I can't in good conscience let you shoulder this responsibility alone," Saber replied, slowly. "But more than that, I… wish to make sure he is well before I leave."

The Tohsaka heir smiled that mischievous smile of hers. "Well said. In that case, I can hardly refuse. I'll be counting on you from here on out, Saber."

She extended her hand in invitation and Saber grasped it firmly with her own. A thread of magic passed between them, renewing the contract that had begun to unravel with the Grail's destruction. The bond between Master and Servant was whole again, the anchor tying Saber to the world reaffirmed. Before their very eyes, the missing pieces of her body re-formed and her form became more tangible, more substantial.

Archer watched on silently, baffled by the sheer bull-headedness of his former Master. That was just like her - refusing to accept anything that didn't satisfy her expectations and going to extreme lengths to rectify such things. It was as if she saw everything that ran counter to her viewpoint as a challenge to be overcome.

What she was planning was something that shouldn't be possible. And yet, he could not help but think that if it was her, she might just find a way to pull it off.

"Rin."

At his call, the magus and her knight turned to him. "It goes without saying that I… that we are unreliable. Please take care of him."

"...Of course, Archer," Rin stated confidently. She sobered up somewhat. "He won't turn out like you, I'll make sure of it. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry I couldn't find a way to save you too."

Gobsmacked, he gaped at her for several seconds. Then, overwhelmed by a feeling he couldn't quite describe, he burst into laughter. It was no dry chuckle, tainted by bitterness or cynicism, but a genuine expression of joy.

Oh, Rin. You already have.

At last, his laughter dried up. He smiled fondly at the girl that had defied his expectations time and time again. "I was right… you really are extraordinary. In more ways than one. Farewell, Rin. May the Root forever be your guide."

There was no way he could know it, but the smile that graced his face was captivating. It wasn't the smile Rin and Saber had come to expect from him, the twisted smirk of the Heroic Spirit EMIYA. Instead, it was that of the person he had once been. A distorted young man who's only wish had been to save lives and in doing so maybe, just maybe, find his own salvation.

It was the smile of a hero.

It was thus that Archer faded from the world once more. From day one, nothing had gone as he had hoped, his plans to remove himself from Alaya's roster ultimately stymied by his own lack of resolve. Yet, he did not regret how things had ended; if anything, merely that they had ended in the first place. Since his summoning, he had been reminded of things he had long forgotten; from the blinding brilliance of the King of Knights and the radiant light of her Noble Phantasm, to the unwavering conviction of his younger self… and finally, the genius that was his Master. And his Master she was, despite his own actions towards her. They really had been the perfect match.

But for him, staying wasn't in the cards. It was his time to go and he would do so with the grace befitting of a man accustomed to battle.

As his body faded away into the ether, his last thoughts were not for himself, but for those he was leaving behind. Their self-appointed task was not an easy one, but what would come after would be even harder. The road he had walked down had been a slippery one and it was only after he had looked back that he'd realised how far he'd strayed from it. Now his younger self would face the same choices.

But with Rin at his side… who knows how things might turn out. Maybe he would turn out for the better.

His vision grew dark, but one last feeling lingered in his heart until the very end.

It was hope.


It was perhaps the strangest Mexican stand-off ever.

In one corner, the oldest known king, a demi-god with the world at his fingertips. In the other, a teenage boy with the power to recreate weapons of legends after a single glance.

Contrary to what one might expect, the match wasn't to take place in a grand arena in front of a roaring audience, but rather in a dingy side street. The raucous applause was definitely lacking, but at least the empty beer bottles appeared to be watching with rapt interest.

The King of Heroes looked aghast as he took in his surroundings, no doubt beyond disgusted by what he saw. He turned to the only other person present, shooting daggers at the boy whom only minutes before had dared to raise his blades against him.

"Your interference knows no bounds, does it, mongrel?"

Shirou hummed in response. "Your time would be better spent contemplating your own actions instead of pointing fingers, Your Majesty."

From the audible grinding of Gilgamesh's teeth, Shirou gauged that the man had finally crossed over into the realm of true rage. His muscles tensed, a sardonic grin settling on his face as he goaded the King of Heroes even further.

One opening. That's all I need.

With his final trump card having already been revealed to his opponent, Shirou's chances of winning a battle against the Servant had plummeted. But blind rage might just give him the opportunity to land a lucky hit and finish things quickly. Failing that… well, he'd just have to aim for a mutual kill.

He and his opponent burst into motion as one, simultaneously conjuring up their favoured weapons. Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in Shirou's hands as he weaved through Gilgamesh's portals and the weapons that emerged from them, raising the twin blades to strike—

When a soft thud from behind him stunned both combatants. They both looked towards the source of the noise confusedly, first noting the shopping back spilling its contents to the ground, then the young lady who'd presumably dropped said bag.

Fear flashed across the lady's face, the perfect embodiment of a deer in the headlight— then she ran as fast as the wind could carry her.

For a split second, Shirou and Gilgamesh simply stared after her gormlessly. Then their brains finally kicked back into gear.

Blind to everything around them, the two of them had carelessly utilised their supernatural abilities in a public place. Worse, someone had witnessed them doing it.

And that witness was getting away.

Gilgamesh was the first one to act, trailing after the woman with purposeful strides. In contrast to his earlier rage, his face was set in a hardened mask.

It dawned on Shirou then just what he intended to do. Though Gilgamesh was no magus, he couldn't pretend to be disconnected from them either. In fact, he owed his current existence to the magus who had summoned him some ten years prior. As much as he might hate to admit it, he was as much a part of their order as any of the mortal spellcasters.

Perhaps one of the strangest things about mage society was their general lack of rules. Aside from those unspoken - of which 'don't mess with those who are above you' was a big one - magi were generally left to do as they saw fit in regards to advancing their craft. Practically anything was fair game, no matter how much time or funds you had to sink into it, nor how extreme the methods. Any act you could stomach, no matter how morally questionable, was justifiable if it served the greater good.

In exchange for this freedom, there was just one major rule that the Mage's Association demanded their members abide by: above all else, the common populace must not be made aware of the existence of magic. If it just so happened that someone not in the know happened to see something they shouldn't—

Then the witness was to be silenced by whatever means necessary.

Shirou burst into motion, but not nearly quick enough. As he shouldered past the King of Heroes, the older man simply picked him up and flung him aside as if it was nothing. He slammed into the alley wall with force, pain lancing through him as his head cracked against brick.

Through the stars in his eyes, he watched Gilgamesh walk out into the sunlight beyond the alley. The Servant had a headstart on him already. Unacceptable. Shaking the fuzziness from his head, Shirou forced himself to his feet and staggered into the open.

All at once, the previously muffled sights and sounds of a bustling city washed over him— the steady hum of motor vehicles and the acrid fumes they put out; the chatter of a million voices clashing in a discordant symphony; the scents of local restaurants vying for attention. Large signs on the buildings drew the eye with a mixture of hiragana and romaji, advertising various services and events, while blossoming cherry trees lined the road on either side. That was enough to suggest that they were still in Japan at least, though the exact location couldn't be so easily discerned.

There was just one thing that seemed a little off, however - while the road itself was quite wide, there seemed to be a distinct lack of cars and a disproportionate number of people rushing in one direction. In fact, it seemed that Shirou was the only one not in motion, which was enough to earn him a few irritated glances as the throng was forced to part around him.

Shirou smiled politely, muttering apologies as he danced through the crowd, scanning the sea of faces and comparing them to the one he was searching for as he did so. More than once he almost reached out to grab someone, only to realise his mistake; those people looked similar for sure, but it was only a passing resemblance. The shape of the eyes, or the colour of their hair, the right height, but not in the right combination. As much as he hated to say it, he'd lost her.

"Damn it…"

The taste of failure was bitter indeed. He could only hope Gilgamesh met similar success in finding her. And by that, he meant complete abject failure.

He almost left then— had it not been for a sudden roar roar in the near distance. With titanic, earth-shaking footsteps, a giant lumbered into view, before scaling a nearby overpass. A tattered black vest and grey cargo pants did little to conceal the giant's bulging muscles - a grotesque sight for sure, but not nearly as strange as his face. For he had the head of a rhino, with a bulbous, protuberant nose.

Several government officials appeared out of nowhere, cordoning off the area and driving back the crowd of curious onlookers, who for some reason seemed inclined to treat the giant's appearance like a circus attraction.

"Wow… that's a huge villain!"

A young man stopped beside Shirou, looking up at the giant with wide eyes. He was evidently a student judging by the dark high-collared blazer and trouser combo he was sporting, yet his messy hair, dark at the roots and green at the ends, was at odds with his otherwise smart appearance.

Such was his fixation on the giant that he didn't appear to notice Shirou's presence at first. His expression was a look beyond simple curiosity, treading more into the realm of overwhelming awe.

Their eyes met then and the boy started, realising he'd accidentally strayed into Shirou's personal space. "I- I'm sorry!"

The boy bowed suddenly, before disappearing into the crowd, his yellow backpack bouncing off his back.

"No problem…" Shirou muttered to the boy's retreating form. What a strange kid.

He turned his attention back to the giant, just in time to watch the 'villain' backhand a nearby power pylon, sending it tumbling down to the ground. Hissing through his teeth, he suppressed the urge to go and protect the crowd. The police had already established a sufficiently sized safe-zone, so it was obvious the falling pylon wouldn't hit anyone. Even so, that's going to be expensive.

However, a large muscle-bound man raced forward into the pylon's path and snatched it out of the air.

"Oh, it's Death Arms!" someone said. "The Punching Hero!"

Death Arms? It was a little strange that someone was able to recognise the man, but at least Shirou could now put a name to a face. Filing away the information for later, he took a closer look at the strangely-dressed man.

His first thought was that the man was a cosplayer of some kind since his outfit was something straight out of one of the manga some of his school friends were fond of. His chest was bare, revealing his body-builder-like physique, with what could generously be called a blue 'shirt' covering his back and arms but little else. Perhaps the most interesting thing of all was the man's obsession with hazard tape - his belt, wrist-guards and headband were all plastered with it.

A second man stepped out of the crowd. At first glance, he appeared to be an ordinary firefighter, but looking at him from behind, there was something about his figure that was just a little off.

"Everyone, this is dangerous. Stay back, stay back!" he ushered. Stretching out his arms, a rope of water shot out from the nozzles held in his hands—

Wait, something wasn't quite right there. Looking a little more carefully, Shirou mentally amended that observation to 'the nozzles that were his hands'. Again, nobody seemed to bat an eye at the man's inhuman appearance. What's going on here? Is this some kind of fever dream?

He pinched himself surreptitiously, but the three men didn't disappear as he'd half-hoped.

In a near-daze, he watched as a fourth man with a carved wooden mask arrived to a chorus of adoring cries. Kamui - if that was indeed his name - swiftly topped the overpass in a series of herculean leaps, quickly dodging as the giant attempted to swat him away. He quickly engaged the giant, dancing around the much larger man's clumsy attacks with graceful movements even as he delivered his own probing attacks.

A colossal hand swung down and struck the ground where the tree-man had been standing half a second before. The slender man exploited the opening ruthlessly, running up the giant's arm. But the giant reacted quicker than he'd expected and flung him off violently.

One tree-like limb elongated to improbable proportions and wrapped around the giant's arm like a whip. Using the giant's own movements, Kamui swung through the air, releasing his grip at the apex of his swing and landing almost perfectly on a rail-side rain shelter.

Shirou imagined that Kamui said something then, but even if he'd managed to reinforce his ears quickly enough, he doubted that he would have managed to pick up what was said. The tree-man raised his right arm, the bark-like material splintering into dozens of branches. The sight seemed to stir something in the crowd as several of them chanted a short phrase in unison.

"Pre-emptive binding: Lacquered Chain Prison!"

The branches shot out in a tangled mess to ensnare the villain—

"Canyon Cannon!"

Then the giant was blindsided by a purple and cream streak. The giant villain tumbled to the ground, incapacitated by an even larger giant's flying kick.

Judging from the sudden silence that had descended on the immediate area, everyone was just as dumbstruck as Shirou, though it was unlikely that anyone was as surprised as Kamui, who had yet to move an inch. The villain in front of him had disappeared in the blink of an eye, just as he had been in the process of restraining him. Worse, his efforts in testing the villain had proved to be for naught, the target taken down in one fell swoop.

The pale-haired giantess straightened, drawing everyone's eyes to… her latex-clad rear-end.

The rapid clicking of camera shutters sounded as virtually every man present at the scene snapped a pic of her— er, documented the events rather. Exclusively for posterior— posterity's sake, mind you.

Shirou was, of course, one of the few to avert his eyes. Looking at the antics of his less-than-chaste fellows, sometimes, just sometimes, he was ashamed to call himself a man.


The scratching sound of pencil against paper droned on, graphite scrawlings quickly filling the pages of the notebook in his hand. His observations from the last few minutes were recorded in painstaking detail, despite the haste with which they were written. Everything was thought up on the spot with little in the way of planning, but there was still a sense of order in his words, a structure that spoke of a procedure polished over many years.

"...looks like she'll be popular and it's an amazing Quirk, but thinking about the damage that'll go hand-in-hand with that—"

The green-haired teen ceased his muttering, casting his eyes over to the crater left by the two giants. The degree of damage was significant enough that at least one of the road's lanes would have to be closed, further impacting the traffic on an already busy main road.

"...Yes, its use would definitely be limited," he mused. If the Hero causes more damage than the villain, it's almost better to just do nothing.

Not that he would ever advocate letting villains off scot-free, but it was always important for a Hero to consider the consequences of their actions and their after-effects. Even if the villain was incarcerated, the longer they did as they pleased, the more innocents would be hurt for it. Minimising that impact was a burden Heroes had to shoulder so that others who wouldn't - or couldn't - be Heroes could live in peace.

And just like that, he'd almost stumbled onto a train of thought he didn't want to consider. Before his mind ventured down that particular avenue, he turned his attention back to his notebook.

Or tried to rather, if it had not been for a flicker of colour in his peripheral vision.

Looking over, the first thing he saw was the redhead from earlier, the one he'd almost bumped into. The boy with those unusual amber-gold eyes that had given him the chills in the brief second their gazes had met. It appeared that he was being strong-armed in one direction by the significantly taller blond-haired man beside him.

Something about that felt off. He couldn't quite explain what he was feeling or why, but it was something beyond simple concern for someone who appeared to be under duress. Something he couldn't quite explain.

As if on autopilot, his body started to move. But just as he was about to follow them—

"Ah, that was a good fight!"

The antennaed man from earlier said something unexpectedly, before looking at his notebook. "You've been taking notes, huh? Studying to become a Hero? That's great, you can do it!"

A warm bubbly feeling welled up in the pit of his stomach, a wide grin creeping its way onto his face.

Part of him was embarrassed that he was so easily reassured by a stranger's words, but that was largely drowned out by the simple-minded glee rushing through him. In the sea of people who would doubt him and tell him he would never achieve his dream, this man had looked at him and seen something. Even if he wasn't operating with the full range of information, here was someone who dared to speak against the naysayers and support him.

"Yes! I'll do my best!"

The man nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit kid. Best of luck to ya."

He left then, but his words lingered in the boy's heart for some time. The fires of determination within him, stifled for so long by the constant pessimism of those around him, stirred just a little, rose just a little higher. He would become a hero, of that he was certain. He would find a way and make it so.

He cast his gaze around him then, searching once more for the red-headed boy. But he was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared from sight during his own distraction. All he could do was hope that he had been misinterpreting things and that the boy would be alright.

But what are the chances of that?

Pretty slim, if he were to hazard a guess. That boy's bearing spoke of someone who's seen more than most would in their entire lifetime. And while the man he was with was handsome in every traditional sense, he also knew that didn't mean anything. Sometimes the prettiest of faces hide the darkest of hearts and something about that man screamed 'unpleasant'. In all likelihood, the kid was getting drawn into something no-one his age should be involved with.

But, powerless as he was, there was little that he could do to help. Instead, he alerted a nearby policeman, pointing him in the direction of the alleyway where he believed the two had been heading towards, then proceeded to walk home, his heart heavy with shame.


What are the chances of this?!

Though Shirou wriggled and prised and squirmed, he could do nothing to escape the grasp of the former Servant beside him. All he could do was fruitlessly resist as Gilgamesh strong-armed him further into a maze of side-streets and alleyways, drawing him ever-further from the public eye.

After a solid five minutes of trying to keep hold of the struggling teen, the re-incarnated heroic spirit had apparently had enough. Without any warning, he released his grip on the back of Shirou's shirt.

The already off-balanced magus - suddenly deprived of his only physical support - crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Momentarily stunned by both the unexpected action and the equally unexpected fall, Shirou looked to capitalise of his new-found freedom—

Which he lost almost instantly, as Gilgamesh bodily lifted him up by the front of his shirt and pinned him against the wall.

"Your meddling knows no bounds, does it, brat?!" growled Gilgamesh.

"My meddling? I'm quite sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Shirou quipped.

"Don't play dumb with me, boy!" a wide sweeping gesture indicated towards where they had just come from. "That! I may not be as informed about the world as the rest of you puny mortals, but even I know that's not normal."

Unable to resist pushing the man's buttons, Shirou took his time considering what he had just seen. "So, a few people seem to have developed superpowers and are actively flaunting them in public without any sort of outcry… and you think I'm responsible?" Shirou summarised. "Well, I'm flattered, but you seem to have a rather inflated perception of my abilities."

Pain lanced through his skull, his head rocking to one side. It took him a few seconds to realise that Gilgamesh had struck him - an open-handed slap to the side of his face, if he wasn't mistaken.

"As if a pathetic excuse of a magus like you could be responsible for something on this scale," Gilgamesh spat. "No, I'm talking about your wish… your juvenile dream and that thrice-cursed grail, both too ignorant to know any better than to follow your impulses. The grail swallowed us whole, boy! By all rights, we should be nothing more than particles of magical energy, fuel for that primitive device and its gods-damned ritual. And yet we - I, a Servant and you, one of the only Masters to survive to see the War's end - we are both here. So of course, the most plausible explanation is that you are to blame."

"Then you're wrong. I didn't do anything."

"Oh-hoh… you're even more dull-witted than I originally gave you credit for. You didn't need to, you foolish boy. Just being who you are was enough, more than enough for the Grail to get what it needed. Your greatest desire is so deeply etched into your soul that you would go to war against beings so far above you it's laughable - for something like the Grail, reading the thoughts of one foolish little boy is child's play."

Shirou stilled as the implications settled in. "You mean—"

"Yes. This world is the perfect playground for an aspiring Hero of Justice," he sneered. "Either the Grail changed the world to such a degree that magecraft, or something similar, can be used openly. Or…"

"Or?"

"...Turn on your circuits, boy."

Shirou looked askance at the older man, but hesitantly did as asked. The image of the gun that was his mental trigger formed in his mind, the hammer cocking back, then firing. The wondrous warmth of his Od swelled within him as he instinctively processed it into raw magical energy—

And in contrast, the bitter cold all around him chilled him to the bone.

"The Mana… it's gone!" he gaped.

Gilgamesh nodded gravely. "Precisely. You may not have had the attention span to notice it earlier, but there's not a trace of it left. And that is why I find my second theory to be much more likely - it seems we are in another world entirely."

Shirou cursed under his breath. "The Second Magic, then. The Grail imitated the Kaleidoscope."

"Your brilliant insight is very much appreciated, boy."

For some reason, his barbed words irritated Shirou more than they had any right to. He'd never been one to be bothered by insults, but everything Gilgamesh did brushed him the wrong way. In that sense, he was almost as bad as Archer.

"And your obnoxious attitude is just as bothersome as ever," Shirou retorted. "If you have to refer to me by anything, then at least call me 'Emiya' and not 'boy.'"

Far from looking angry, as Shirou had expected, the Servant instead appeared rather amused by that remark. "Oh, you don't appear to have realised yet… then let me enlighten you."

He lazily raised his spare hand, a golden portal appearing at his fingertips. Shirou instinctively prepared his married blades, but Gilgamesh simply tutted at him. "Now now, that's entirely unwarranted," he rebuked, withdrawing a small handheld mirror from his Gate. "Here, take a long, hard look."

It was a beautiful thing - the mirror, that is. Ornate gold trim was set in the likeness of a phoenix curled around a thin sheet of burnished silver. Two small rubies were set in place of its eyes, while its tail served as the mirror's handle. The slight notches that denoted tailfeathers made for a decent, yet comfortable grip.

But what held Shirou's attention was not the mirror's outstanding craftsmanship, nor the decadent design, but the face reflected back at him. It was unmistakably the face of Shirou Emiya - but it was not his face. The features were a shade too delicate, the cheeks and jaw a little more rounded than he remembered. But the eyes and auburn hair remained unchanged.

What he saw was not the Shirou Emiya who fought in Fuyuki's Fifth Grail War, but a Shirou Emiya from two, perhaps three years prior.

"Congratulations," Gilgamesh crowed. "You appear to have obtained a means of recovering lost youth - something that, to the best of my knowledge, only I had previously possessed. Well done, indeed."

The Servant laughed heartily, apparently taking great delight in Shirou's discomfort. Doubly so when Shirou failed to suppress the pained expression that crossed his features.

Meanwhile, Shirou's thoughts were racing like mad. While he did a good job disguising it, he was in fact a lot more concerned than he was letting on.

Dear God, please don't let Rin find out about this.

He knew what he would be in for if she did. She would no doubt relentlessly tease him for months on end, begging him to address her as 'Onee-chan' or some such at every possible opportunity. When she finally grew tired of that, then - and only then - would she help find a way to return his body to normal. And knowing her, she wouldn't do that for free - the cost would be something ridiculously high, like signing a magical contract that would bind him to serve her for the rest of his life, all the while she'd hold it over his head that she had done it all for him—

Oh… just kill me now.

"Hmm… I wouldn't be opposed to ending your life, I suppose."

For a brief moment, Shirou could only entertain the idea that Gilgamesh could somehow read his mind. But a heartbeat later, he realised that he'd probably just accidentally spoken aloud.

"Yes, you've certainly given me more than enough reason to: continually ruining my plans, your sacrilegious imitations of my treasures, forcibly bringing me to an alternate dimension…" Gilgamesh mused. "...more than enough…"

His expression grew cold, all traces of his earlier mirth left forgotten. For several long seconds, his crimson eyes bore into Shirou's own and in them, Shirou saw many things. Boundless hate, disdain, apathy—

A flicker of uncertainty.

And at long last, the King of Heroes came to a decision.

"No. As much satisfaction as killing you would give me..." he brought his face close, a menacing glint in his eyes. "I have a much better plan for you."


"Here we are. Room 402."

The shady-looking landlord who had met them at the entrance to the run-down apartment complex was just as rough around the edges as the building he was in charge of. He had the overall aesthetic of a man who'd peaked in the eighties and decided there and then that was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. His shaggy black locks, three shades too dark to be natural, were greased back by a liberal application of hair gel and his own grime. The grey tracksuit straining to contain his considerable bulk was a patchwork of strange orange-brown stains, giving him the appearance of a man who'd recently ventured into experimental clothes design, using food in place of dyes. And yet, in a rather baffling turn of events, his rather expensive-looking sports pure-white shoes were utterly immaculate.

The landlord - Sai, as he'd introduced himself - glared at the two of them suspiciously as he reached into his trouser pocket, before pulling out a large set of keys. Fumbling through for the right one, he unlocked the door to room 402 - which seemed to be in better shape than he was, if only barely. The red paint was flaking away in more places than not and the door itself hanging slightly crooked in its frame, but despite that, it wasn't that bad.

When the door caught in the frame and the guy had to shoulder it open, Shirou was forced to re-evaluate his previous assessment.

Sai entered first, followed by a disturbingly quiet Gilgamesh. Shirou was hot on the Servant's heels, reluctant to let the King of Heroes leave his sight for even a moment.

"It's a bit rough, but a room's a room," Sai grunted.

Shirou was inclined to agree with him, on both accounts. However, that wasn't to say he found the room to be anywhere near his perception of acceptable living conditions.

Dark and dingy would be his first words. The room's sole window was caked in dirt and the feeble glow of the ceiling light wasn't nearly enough to compensate. The wallpaper - some sort of bizarre grey and orange geometric pattern - was decades out of date, peeling away in parts and water stained in others. The carpet was threadbare, the leather sofa falling to pieces, the kitchen little more than a microwave and mini-fridge. The worst crime of all, in Shirou's opinion. And to top it all off, everything was covered in a layer of dust so thick that you could make dust-angels in it.

"...could be worse, I guess," Shirou muttered.

"One last thing," Sai huffed. "There's a deposit fee worth three months rent that ya gotta pay. If you ain't got it now, m'fraid I'm gonna have to refuse yer the room."

As one might expect, the not-so-subtle threat was directed towards Gilgamesh. After all, between him and the obviously-teenaged Shirou, who would you expect to hold the purse strings?

If Gilgamesh noticed the landlord's glare, he showed no outward signs of it. Instead, he kept his back to the man as he continued to survey the room with a critical eye.

He did not look pleased. Not in the slightest. Rather, he only got more irate with every passing second. You could see it in his shoulders, the way he set his feet, the way his fingers tapped restlessly against his elbow as he crossed his arms. But mostly, you could see it in his eyes - the murderous look that spelt death for the next person who crossed him.

"Well?" Sai demanded.

Shirou cringed, mentally preparing himself for a fight. Did the man not possess any sense of danger? That one word could easily be enough to drive Gilgamesh over the edge.

Miraculously, he didn't murder the man on the spot. Spasming briefly in what Shirou could only assume to be barely-controlled rage, Gilgamesh reached forward into his Gate - the angle of his body making it look like he was merely looking through his jacket's inner pocket - and withdrew a necklace. Like, the mirror before, it was pure gold and absolutely exquisite.

And he simply tossed it to Sai like it was nothing.

"I assume that will be sufficient?" he questioned tersely.

Sai made a fuss of examining it. "It'll do," he said, as if the artefact in his hands wasn't worth millions. And from the greedy glint in his eyes, he knew it too. "I'll accept this for now, but make sure you've got cold, hard cash next time."

He turned to leave, but couldn't resist making one last comment before he did. "I'll be back at the end of the month. Make sure you've got next month's rent ready, or you're out on yer asses."

The door slammed behind him. And with that, he was gone.

Once again, Shirou was alone. Well… alone with someone who'd tried to kill him several times. And had now led him to what was essentially a hotel room, albeit one in very poor condition. Despite all that had gone on, he hoped things wouldn't take a strange turn at this point. While he had never watched them, he had heard from some people at school about certain… off-brand animes that had similar plot lines followed by shocking twists.

He couldn't help but flinch as Gilgamesh stirred for the first time in a while. The Servant crossed the room and plonked himself down on the sofa, dropping his feet onto the low coffee table in front of him.

Which promptly collapsed under the weight.

He sighed in exasperation, pointing imperiously in front of him. Taking the hint, Shirou moved to stand as indicated.

Neither of them said anything at first. Gilgamesh seemed perfectly content to look Shirou up and down and Shirou was perfectly content to let him. Truthfully, he was curious to see what the man would do now.

After what seemed like forever, Gilgamesh finally broke the silence.

"So, you've finally learned when to hold your tongue, then? Excellent. One less lesson I'll have to drill into you."

Shirou didn't deign to respond.

"You're probably wondering at this point why I've brought you here."

"...It may have crossed my mind at some point. I assume you're finally going to let me in on your 'plan'?"

Gilgamesh hummed. "Indeed. It would be more counter-productive to leave you in the dark. There was one more item I neglected to add on the list of crimes you've committed against me."

"Oh?"

"You may have not been directly responsible for this one, but by association, you are indeed guilty. Because of the actions of your… allies… I lost a rather useful pawn."

That stumped Shirou for a few seconds. But as he thought about it a little harder— "Kotomine?"

"Kotomine," Gilgamesh confirmed. "Don't misunderstand me, I feel no grief over his passing. But his death is somewhat of an inconvenience. He was nought but a tool - but he was a useful tool and one that brought me no end of entertainment at that. His presence made living among the sheep of the modern age… not pleasant, but bearable."

"And because of your alliance with that Lancer, he met his unfortunate end," He spread his hands to emphasise his point. "Can you see why that might irk me?"

"Maybe just a little," Shirou conceded. "Still, I don't regret him dying as he did. The man was far from a saint."

Gilgamesh rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I should have known you wouldn't be able to see things from my perspective… no matter. The point of the matter is, the position of personal aide is now open - and considering the recent turn of events, it needs to be filled rather urgently. And given that at present, there's only one viable applicant..."

A chill rushed down Shirou's spine. Oh, he did not like where this was going. "You mean—"

"From this day forth—" Gilgamesh announced. "You shall be my servant!"

He went there.

"One as splendorous as I is not suited to subterfuge and trickery. So, until I discern the measure of this world and establish my dominion over its people, you will assist me in blending in with the common rabble. Be grateful that one such as I would find some measure of worth in a measly worm like yourself."

From the smirk on his face, it was clear he thought it to be an offer that couldn't be refused.

Little did he know that Shirou was legitimately debating whether or not that was a good idea.

Entering into Gilgamesh's service would mean devoting a great deal of time and energy into what was essentially a babysitting job. The downside of that being that he would struggle to find time to do anything else - like finding a way back home, for example.

Home.

Of course, the moment he thought that, Rin came to mind. What was she doing right now? Had she made it out safely after the Grail was destroyed? Was she looking for him, even now? Kicking herself over allowing him to fight Gilgamesh alone, for failing to protect her investment, as she'd no doubt think of it? Was she mourning his 'death' at that very moment?

Just the thought of her grieving over him drove a lance through his heart. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold her close, to tell her that everything was over and he was fine. And though it was too late, he regretted being unable to say his last farewells to Saber. If he had the chance now, would he be able to look her in the eyes and say 'goodbye' without breaking down? To thank her for their time together and apologise for not finding a way to fulfill her wish?

Stop it! Now's not the time to think of stuff like that!

Dealing with the matter in front of him took priority for the time being. So, though he loathed to do so, he considered it further. What could he gain by helping Gilgamesh?

Well, first of all, it'd give him a way of keeping him under control without direct conflict. If he could curb some of Gilgamesh's more violent tendencies without resorting to force, wasn't that preferable to the far more risky option of trying to physically subdue, or just outright kill him? Shirou did prefer to go for the most peaceful option where possible and as unlikely as it seemed, there was always the chance he could reform the man.

There was also the fact that two heads were simply better than one. Though Shirou had no doubt he could make his own way in this new world - either by doing some under-the-table work or presenting himself to an orphanage - it was always useful to have an ally. Even if said ally was a little troublesome to handle.

Then again, Gilgamesh was more than a little troublesome. Given that the Servant was probably more dangerous as an ally than an enemy, he mentally transferred this over to his con list.

What else was there?

Ah, there was that. If for some reason, god-forbid, a group of overzealous researchers - someone akin to his own world's magi - came a-knocking, having a little extra muscle wouldn't hurt. Rather, Gilgamesh's talents might prove to be something of a boon.

So while all-in-all it would likely prove to be a bit of a pain, he would stand to gain more by accepting than he would otherwise lose.

"His Majesty is more than generous," Shirou stated, not quite managing to hold back his sarcasm. "In that case, I graciously accept."

"Of course you do," scoffed Gilgamesh. "A king's orders are absolute, mine above all. But rest assured, your cooperation is noted."

He casually dismissed Shirou's acceptance, confirming in the magus' mind that the Servant had in fact taken it as a foregone conclusion. Then, having dispensed with the formalities, he conjured up a golden goblet and an ewer with a long, narrow neck and poured himself a drink. From the faint alcoholic scent and the reddish tint of the streaming liquid, it wasn't hard to identify it for what it was - wine. A particularly fine one at that.

"We shall decide on a plan of action later," Gilgamesh announced. "For now, we will focus on more immediate problems - namely, making this place liveable. I won't spend a single minute more with the place as it is, so get to work!"

Shirou looked around once more. On one hand, he was pleased that his first order aligned so closely with his own desires - the state of the apartment was atrocious after all. For someone who had always been meticulous when it came to housework, it was almost enough to make him weep in despair. But on the other hand…

Where to start?

He sighed wearily. It didn't matter where he started, because there was no right answer. One goal was as good as any other.

Pausing just long enough to project something that could be loosely described as a broom, he began the arduous task of transforming a wreck into a home.


It was a few hours later when he heard it.

He was still in the middle of his clean-up operation, having cleared away most of the dust and prepared the apartment's sole bedroom for His Majesty's use. When he re-entered the living room, the tv was on. As in, on and actually working, which was new - thirty minutes ago, it would show nothing but static. It was one of those old boxy CRT sets that people used to use before the newer flat-screens were a thing. If Shirou had been a betting man, he would have put everything he owned on it being rescued from an antique shop, because given what he had seen of this world's technology - so far very little - even he could tell it didn't belong here. It was a relic, a remnant of a bygone time and something that probably should have stopped working a long time ago.

The bronze-coloured shaft jutting out the top at a jaunty angle probably had something to do with its resurrection. Without conscious thought, Shirou reached out and Grasped it from across the room.

It wasn't a sword, of that much he was already sure. If it was, he would have felt his Reality Marble react the moment he'd laid eyes on it. Consequently, a degree of effort was required to actually read anything. Even then, the reading was superficial at best, extremely limited compared to what he would have learned from a sword or something he could touch directly.

However, he did learn something. And that something was rather interesting.

It's… an ancient Mesopotamian antenna?

There was more to it than that, of course. From what he could tell, it was designed to not only detect signals from the EM spectrum, but also pick up on magical signatures as well. There was also some advanced relay function he couldn't quite make sense of and it had somehow fused itself to the TV's circuitry like some sort of synthetic parasite. Not only had it fixed the set, but improved it to the point where it probably worked better than it ever had before.

Gilgamesh pried his eyes from the screen just long enough to glance at Shirou over his shoulder. "Ah, there you are. I'd half feared you'd been eaten by a pack of monstrously sized rats. That would have made for a nasty end, that."

"Ah, were you worried about me?" Shirou deadpanned.

"Worried? About you? Pleeease," Gilgamesh retorted. "The rats? Yes. Could you imagine the fallout of a pack of horse-sized rats having the chance to breed? I would have had no choice but to burn the building down and half the city with it."

"..that's one way to avoid the apocalypse, I guess," muttered Shirou. His eyes flicked to the screen momentarily. Just as he was about to return to work, something on the screen caught his eye. Something he recognised. "What's that?"

In response, the Servant reached for the remote and cranked the volume up a few notches.

"—Pro Heroes Death Arms, Backdraft and Kamui Woods were quick to arrive on the scene, the rising star rushing to make battle with the villain, while the others looked to protect the growing crowd of onlookers. It looked like it was done and dusted as Kamui made to subdue the villain with his signature move… when, unexpectedly, another hero made an appearance."

The feed transitioned from the close-up shot of the comely news reporter to a still image of a pale-haired woman in a purple and cream jumpsuit. The giantess from earlier, standing next to the villain she'd helped detain. "Newly minted Pro Hero Mt. Lady made a big entrance as she dropped in on the action and took down the villain with one blow. Quite the impressive debut, if you ask me. But don't settle for my opinion - my co-host Tara Nai and I will be discussing how Mt. Lady will fit in with today's Hero society, alongside our special guest Saido Moji from Sonzai Shi Nai Basho Institute.

Mt. Lady's image faded away to once again show the news reporter's face, the camera panning to the side to show the afore-mentioned co-host and guest patiently awaiting their cue. Behind them, a large screen replayed the footage of the villain's capture, presumably taken from a helicopter given the high angle - the very thing that had caught his eye in the first place.

Before he knew it, Shirou was already taking a seat on the opposite end of the sofa, utterly enraptured by what was taking place in front of him. After exchanging quick pleasantries, the three starring presenters quickly got into the thick of things. First outlining the background, then delving into the education and eventual graduation of Yu Takeyama - professionally known in her industry as Mt. Lady.

There were several terms bandied around that went over Shirou's head. Some, like 'Quirk', he was able to infer the meaning of through listening to the newscaster's discussion. Apparently Mt. Lady possessed a Quirk called 'Gigantification', which gave her the ability to change her size at will. She could switch between a regular-sized human or a scaled-up giant form as the situation demanded.

As for the other terms… no such luck there. It seemed like a level of prior knowledge was required to fully comprehend the topic of discussion, information that Shirou sorely lacked. But even without that context, there was still a lot to be gained by listening in.

This world… is home to a superhuman society.

That is what he gleaned from the discussion. The existence of those supernatural abilities was not only common knowledge, but they were welcomed, celebrated, even. Those gifted with Quirks were not atrocities to be hidden away for fear of bringing shame to their families, but treasures to be proudly displayed to the world.

"This is…" Gilgamesh started. He sounded quieter than normal, more subdued. "It's quite something, isn't it?"

"Yes… yes, it is."

They had known things were different here. Yet, for the first time, they understood how glaring those differences really were.

That sudden revelation was enough to shake Shirou to the core, his disbelief warring against the more optimistic side of him that so desperately longed for it to be more than some fantasy. And beneath it all was a feeling unfamiliar to him, a sense of exuberance and curiosity so intense that he chafed with every second he remained still.

He was… excited. When was the last time he had felt such a thing? It must have been years, surely. There had been things that he had enjoyed to an extent, events that had brought him a degree of satisfaction or contentment. But rarely did he encounter anything that evoked such passion inside him, or such a level of anticipation.

Just like that, he knew what he had to do. It was almost out of his hands at that point.

That world of Heroes… he would learn everything there was to know about it.

And he would carve out his own place within it.

Without a doubt, it was a decision that would echo across the entire globe.


Hey, it's me. Long time no see. How're you doing? Good? Great to hear.

Me? Oh yeah, I'm fine. I went a little insane over the last 4 months or so trying to write my two Fate fics, but otherwise pretty good.

...Ok, that's enough for this bit. I never know how to start these author's notes off tbh so sometimes they get a little wacky, but try not to mind it too much.

Anyway, I'm back with chapter 2 of AIH. Not a lot going on here, but it's all necessary foundation stuff I need to do before I can get into the good stuff. Apologies for the long wait - for those of you reading my other Fate crossover, you'll already know this, but since I uploaded this, I went through the worst case of writer's block I've ever experienced and only recently found a way to cope with both that and the distractions getting in the way of my concentration. Not sure if I'll be able to continue relying on said technique since it relies on us having good weather over here so I can go outside with my laptop, but hopefully I can make the updates a little more regular from now on.

Moving on to reviews. Most people seemed fairly happy with the first chapter, which I'm happy to see. A lot of speculation about where this is going to go. A few people dismayed to see that Gil's tagged along, while others are ecstatic to see just how he might mess things up. This is an ideal outcome. A disclaimer though: be prepared for some crack-fic like elements - while this story will primarily be serious, I'll be trying for some more light-hearted elements too. Probably a few scenes that might make more sense as omakes. So be prepared for a mixed bag.

This fic is already at 250+ follows despite being only one chapter so far, which seems pretty crazy to me. So thank you very much for everyone who's supported this so far. I hope I can live up to your expectations.

Since I didn't specify last chapter, this fic roughly follows on from the Good route of Fate/UBW, with some minor mostly-undecided deviations. The first was when Rin gave Shirou one of her gems last chapter to help save his magical energy. The second being that she transferred her crest to him to supply him with magical energy as she did in the Realta Nua version of the VN, rather than... the other thing. Whether or not they did the deed in addition to that, I'll leave that to your imagination.

Also, a call to any Fate experts here. I'm hunting for information about certain works outside of F/SN for potential ideas for this fic. If you fancy yourself as someone who knows a lot about the various other series in the franchise, please PM me or drop me a review to let me know if you're up to answering a few questions. Be warned though, since this concerns my plans for the story, it might constitute potential spoilers. So if you'd prefer to go into this blind, I'd suggest refraining from messaging me. But if you're alright with minor hints, then I'd love to hear from you.

EDIT: Oh... to that one guest reviewer who managed to sneak an FGO short story on to my last chapter... well played.

I think that's enough from me for now. As always, let me know what you think. Leave a follow and/or favourite to let me know that you liked what you read here. If I made any mistakes that need correcting, or you wanna let me know what you liked/disliked, or just want to say hi, drop me a review. I do love me some feedback (politely phrased is preferred, even if the message amounts to 'I despise everything you do').

But yeah, thanks for reading everyone. Thanks again to Berix for beta-ing again. And I'll see you all in the next one.