I in no way shape or form own Fate/Stay Night or Queen's Blade. They belong to their respective owner. Fate/Stay night is property of Type-Moon, and Queen's Blade belongs to Firelight Game Company. And I in no shape or form make a profit of writing and publishing this.


I have no regrets.

Also, if this wasn't rather obvious, compared to my other work: The Fake Player, it is far from a super serious and deep work. It's more a side work and for fun, something to try my hand at. So try not to take this fic too seriously or at face value since I'll be playing a bit with the world to make whatever happens, happen.

Prologue: 4th Wall? What 4th Wall?

"I will!"

Turning his sight from the memorizing view of the rising sun over yonder, Archer turned back to his master.


There she stood, a single hand clenching the hem of her shirt. There was fire in her eye, a deep resolve to keep true to her promise.

Her promise to him, to stop his younger, and brash self from ever walking down the same path he did.

The path to Hell.

"I know…" EMIYA whispered, his voice carried by the gentle breeze. Closing his eyes, his lip turned upwards. "If there's anyone that can do it, it would be you Toshaka."

And then he smiled.

Rin's breath hitched at the smile. Her fist trembled. The flood gates slowly opened forth and tears poured gently down her face. Unable to hold back the swirling emotions at the sight in front of her.

A smile. A simply but beautiful smile.

A dazzling smile formed from the very spark of his soul. A smile that encapsulated all, his innocence and dream.

To be a Hero of Justice.

The centuries of bittiness, anger, resentment, and self-loathing gave way. Allowing all of himself for all the world to bear.

Rin wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or what, but Archer 'changed' in a sense, becoming more recognizable. His hair relaxed, no longer maintaining its usual spikiness. His hardened eyes softened. His visage, which was once stern and calculating dissipated. The mask gave away to the face of his true self. Resembling a certain red headed magus.

In that moment Rin wasn't facing Counter-Guardian EMIYA. No.

She was facing Shirou Emiya.

The Hero that lost his way.

'Goodbye…Rin...' With one final thought Archer, or rather Emiya stopped resisting. Already he could feel the tugging of his soul. His body was dissipating as the Grail War was finally over. It was thanks to his rather high Independent Action skill that allowed him to remain as long as he did to say one last goodbye to Rin. With his piece said there was nothing left for him here.

His physical form disappeared into a shower of light. With its business done his soul disappeared from the world. But while his physical form gave away, he was still very much conscious.

While in this state it often gave the Counter-Guardian time to mull over his thoughts. However, the countless centuries of killing have made him hate this as it served no purpose than for him to reflect on his countless atrocious act.

This time however, his mind was not plague with doubt and self-destructive thoughts. Rather, the memory of Rin's promise to him and blooming hope that maybe, just maybe she could prevent another EMIYA from being brought into existence.

Perhaps Rin was what was needed to stop Alaya from sinking its claws into Shirou Emiya.

Speaking of Alaya.

His thoughts quickly soured knowing that he would be under Alaya's grasps once more. While it would be well and good for that Shirou Emiya to not make the same mistake as he did. The same couldn't be said for himself. There was no doubt in Emiya's mind that the moment he returned Alaya would just send him on another mission. Forced to commit acts of atrocities, to kill in order to save and protect.

Just like the perfect attack dog that he was.

Though he had found his answer, with the help of his younger, naïve self, there was little that could be changed for his fate.

His train of thought halted as he felt his physical body slowly taking shape. Slowly opening his eyes he was treated to a most unusual sight.


Pure white.

A barren and empty plane, void of anything and everything. The room, if he could even call it that, stretched endlessly into the horizon. He was all alone.

Emiya immediately tensed up.

Normally whenever he would return the Counter-Guardian would either be greeted by an ocean of darkness, a void of near complete darkness. Save for the glowing presence of The World within said abyss. Or appear within the barren world of Unlimited Blade Works within the Throne of Heroes. To appear anywhere else but there meant something was wrong.

"Where am I?" He pondered aloud.

"Mr. Emiya. Right on time." A single voice echoed throughout startling the man. Emiya was unable to pinpoint just where the voice originated from, the voice traveling and echoing as if it came from all around him.

"Trace on!" The crimson clad servant invoked. Only for nothing to appear. His eyes widened as he stared as his hands dumbly.

"As cool as it would be to see Tracing in person, I have a feeling you would try and stab me as soon as possible. I liked not to get stab thank you very much." The voice gave a wise-cracked quip.

Emiya grimaced.

That implies that whoever this entity was has shut down his ability to trace any Noble Phantasm whatsoever. Meaning: he was at the complete mercy of whoever sent him here.

Bringing his arms up, he took a basic combat stance. Tracing or not he was still a trained killer and warrior with centuries of experiences. There was no way he would simply stand there and wait for whoever to do as he pleased.

His ears twitched suddenly, catching the recognizable sound of footsteps.

Turning, the Counter-Guardian was treated to a sight of an individual appearing from out of nowhere.

With heightened eyes he carefully studied the newcomer's appearance. The individual stood at roughly the same height as Emiya himself. If he had to guess, he would assume Caucasian descent by simple looks alone. Slightly tanned skin, but not too similar to Emiya's own bronzed skin tone. On his head a mop of raven black hair, cut to accentuate the visitor's looks. Hazel colored eyes that held a glint of mischief. The stranger wore a simple white dressed shirt with a buttoned up black dressed vest. Rimmed glasses pressed against the bridges of his nose. The final, and most noticeable article of clothing was the white lab coat draped over him.

Stopping a few meters from Emiya the two stood silently apart, watching the other. Emiya's lips pressed into a thin line while the stranger's lips curved into a small smile.

"Who are you? No… What are you?" Emiya asked warily.

"Who am I?" The mysterious stranger repeated. "Kekekeke~" He then cackled.

This only put the Counter-Guardian more on guard.

"I am he that can craft world with nothing more than my fingers…" The individual swept one of his arms in a dramatic flourish. "…With naught but a thought I can bring forth life no matter how large or small, strong or weak." His second arm followed suit. "Lying dormant within my mind lies a labyrinth of worlds, a cacophony knowledge old and new, obscure and forbidden." The two arms were slowly brought together, his fingers interlocking.

At this point Emiya was really starting to get a tinge nervous. Whether this was simply boastful banter or not, he seemed very confident in himself. Question was, what was he?

Some obscure god of old?

A being on the level of the ORT and Ultimate Ones?

Or maybe something much more?

"I am…" Pause for dramatic effect. "…A Writer!" He struck a pose. His middle finger pressing against the bridge of his glasses with the rest of his finger spread apart in front of his face. His left curved around his chest while the rest of his body bent at an odd angle.

Hearing his answer Emiya couldn't help but feel as if he was pranked. In Emiya's eye he just simply looked ridiculous, but he didn't drop his guard for a moment.

"A writer…" He repeated slowly. "As in someone that writes stories?"

"Indeed!" The man cheerfully clarified. He pointed a finger at Emiya, shifting his posture to take another odd pose. "Though the names 7th Pride. You can just call me Pride. Pleasure to meet ya!" The now named writer cheerfully greeted.

To go from ominous, to ridiculous and then to amiable all in a matter of a minute, it was safe to say he wasn't dealing with any normal loon.

A pensive looked crossed Emiya's face.

"Now, I'm sure you're hell'a confused and everything. So why don't we get comfortable first before getting down to brass tax."

With a snap of his fingers the once blank canvas that was their surrounding shifted. Two single seated couch chairs appeared behind them respectively. In-between them was a small glass coffee table. Pride took his seat and waited for Emiya to do the same.

It took a few more seconds before he relented. Never once breaking eye contact, he lowered himself onto the surprisingly cushy seat. Still, he was wound up as a spring, ready to snap at the first sign of danger.

"Care for anything? Something to drink. Perhaps a snack?" The eccentric man offered.

Emiya stopped himself from saying no at the last second. While he didn't trust the self-proclaimed writer, he has been cordial so far. At least, as much as he could within the short span of their meet.

That and Emiya was sure that if he wanted to attack or hurt the Counter-Guardian it would have done so already instead of these pleasantries.

"Tea." Emiya requested.

Another snapped of his finger produced two ornate teacups in front of them. Gingerly picking up his drink, Emiya stared down at the golden amber colored liquid. His nose twitched, taking in a familiar and wonderful scent. Drinking his beverage his suspicions were proven correct. In his hand was his own personal blend of tea.

The how and why were loss on him as Emiya eagerly downed his drink in one go. The delicate tea soothing his nerves and warming his stomach. His muscles slowly unraveled, losing his previous tension.

"Finally starting to relax." The crimson archer heard Pride say.

The two lapsed in silence as they drank their tea, with Emiya pouring a second cup. After a few minutes he finished it and finally addressed the elephant in the room.

"So…you said you're a writer." Emiya repeated.

"Yup!" Said self-proclaimed writer puffing out his chest.

"You're telling me a simple writer brought me here?" He questioned slowly; heavy skepticism clear in his voice.

"You don't believe me." It was more of a statement then a question. Pride pouting a little as if offended that the Counter-Guardian thought he was lying.

"Of course. You're saying someone that calls himself a writer of all things brought me here?" Emiya snorted. Crossing his arms and lying back into his seat.

Pride huffed. "And yet here you are, still talking with me, instead of Alaya. That should say something at least." He immediately rebuked, taking another sip of his tea as the implication of his words registered in the Archer's mind.

Emiya's eye momentarily widened.

He was right! Why was Emiya still here? Why had he not felt the tugging of his soul, to return back to The Throne of Heroes, to Alaya?

Alaya was rather punctual when it came to managing her Counter-Guardians. The Will of Humanity was an ever perpetuating machine. It expects its forces to do what needs to be done as swiftly as possible. No delays, no nothing. And when said assignment was completed, they would be immediately taken back only to then be reassigned to another mission.

No breaks, no respite, nothing but continuous work.

Though he hates to admit it there must be some truth to his words. The fact that he was still here and didn't feel as if his very soul was actively being ripped away from this plane of existence back to the Throne of Heroes meant Pride, this writer, there was more to him than meets the eyes.

This only made Emiya more concern. For whom or whatever he was to actively keep him here meant it was beyond a doubt powerful enough to go against the likes of the Counter Force and the likes Collective Conscious of Humanity itself. The only other entities with power comparable to them would be Gaia, The Ultimate Ones themselves, or other obscure beings of immeasurable power.

Still…A writer...?

"Still not convinced?" Pride pointed out; a lone eyebrow raised at the conflicted expression on the Heroic Spirit's face.

"Can you blame me?" Emiya returned. "Out of nowhere you, a writer of all things, appears claiming you possess power rivaling that of Alaya, if not more so."

"A fair point, considering everything you've been through and seen. I have only one rebuttal to that."

Here, Pride's smile grew sly. "Multiverse theory."

Emiya frowned but nodded.

Of course, he was familiar with such a concept. As a Counter-Guardian he has traveled to thousands upon thousands of earths and world, each one a parallel version of one another. Besides Zelretch himself, Emiya would perhaps be the second most knowledgeable on such a subject. But still, he has never heard of such anyone or anything that was known by a simple title as a Writer.

"As you already know the multiverse is a very complex series of intricate web worlds. Composed innumerable parallel worlds. Some so identical to one another but with one solitary distinction. Others so radically different or unique, they can defy comprehension."

Images appeared within the air, aiding as small visual cues. A singular orb appeared, taking the form of Earth. It was labeled as E-1. It then multiplied, spreading across the across the blankness numerous orbs counting and labeled. Stretching endlessly.

"That's the secret of the multiverse, you know. Infinite possibility." Pride swept his arms, gesturing to the empty white world and visual aid that continued stretching across white void.

"Every single possibility, every single action or inaction, every single what if scenario, from the beginning of existence to the end of reality itself simultaneously existing simultaneously. Whether it be hypothetical, imaginary, or perhaps more prudently in this case, fictional.

A question for you, Emiya.

If there are numerous worlds for which the likes of Alaya and Gaia exists, a constant factor throughout. Then it would stand to reason there would be worlds for which they wouldn't. Whether they are dormant such as something similar to the Age of the Gods or simply a nonfactor. Such is the nature of the multiverse; that all possibility can exists. Applying that logic to say, fiction for instance, then it's possible that such a story would real somewhere within the vastness of the multiverse. But the same could be said for the inverse to be equally valid as well couldn't it? That's one's reality can be simply more than fiction to another."

Pride proposed to Emiya, who was deathly silent from the beginning.

"What is your point?" Emiya said steadily, irritation rearing its head into his tone of voice. He knew exactly what the being in front of him was insinuating. And quite frankly he didn't like it one bit.

"To put it plainly and simply Emiya, when I referred to myself as Writer, I am referring to not only its traditional definition but also it by a title." He revealed.

"Were I to make a comparison it would be similar to Zelretch and his ability to visit and interact with alternate worlds. Only, I'm a bit more than that. I am someone who writes, who imagine worlds, ideas and possibility and fill those worlds with life. To me Alaya, Gaia, The Ultimate Ones, or even Zelretch himself with Kaleidoscope at his disposal, and of course you, are nothing but fiction. Fiction is my craft and to me you are all fictional. Such is the nature of a writer, one who creates worlds and life with naught but their minds and thoughts."

Ending on that, a deep silence permeated the white space. Neither party choosing nor daring to say anything else.

Emiya fought down the shudder at such a prospect. Not even the likes of Alaya or Gaia has that form of power, to influence and interfere most certainly, but not to such an extreme extent. To be able dictate and write how every single living being begins and dies.

A rather terrifying prospect.

And now said entity has his sights on the Counter-Guardian.

Just great. His E-ranked luck screwing him over once again.

"Is that a satisfactory answer?"

"Perhaps, but that still doesn't exactly explained how you accomplished it."

"What? I just told you. Multiverse—"

"I heard you the first time." Emiya interrupted and scowled. "But that doesn't explain how exactly you accomplished this. Such as how did you managed to pick me away? What method you used to do it? If I'm fictious as you've oh so implied, how is it that you're capable of interacting with me? Doing something in the realms of true magic and perhaps beyond. Zelretch possess 2nd magic, but what do you have to aid you?" Said Archer, raising some valid questions.

"Look…" Pride aggravatedly scratched the back of his head. "This explanation is already long and way too meta enough as it is. If I tried to explain it further, then the joke and novelty of what I just said is going to go under. It's already tough as it is, especially since I'm kind of going against the norm when it comes to crossover explanation with the Nasuverse. I don't need any more headache with all the logistical BS on this whole esoteric idea! Please!"

For a moment, Emiya truly looked dumbfounded at the off tangent rambling. Unsure of what to say, let alone do with the information.

"…Great, I'm going off tangent." Pride groaned, rubbing his temple. "This already dangerously passing 4th wall breaking territory…" He muttered.

"Look…" The writer began, getting comfortable in his chair. "I'm sure the "how" is important and all, but I'm sure there's a far more important question on your mind."

Emiya's scowl let up as he sat straighter in his chair as he regarded the confusing man. How he ultimately got here was circumstantial. He was here already, at the writer's mercy. So that begs only one question. "Why am I here?"

Pride allowed a small smile as he looked at the Counter Guardian. "Finally, we can get down to business. I brought you here because I have need of your service for a task. And you, my sword spamming friend are perfect for the role in mind."

"Of course, you do." A sardonic smile took shape on the Counter-Guardian face. He chuckled openly, full of mockery. Lifting one of his legs and crossing them while he leaned back into his seat, looking at him with a thin veil of disrespect.

Despite the circumstances, somethings never change. It seemed that it was his density to always be sought out and used. To do the works of others. The Clocktower, the Church, Alaya, and now the self-proclaimed Writer.

There'll always be someone, something, that wants him to do their dirty work for them.

"Seeing as I have very little choice in the matter, what will it be? Kill a certain individual? Destroy a small town to prevent an outbreak from occurring? Maybe participate in another war with naïve teenagers involved?" Emiya mockingly questioned.

Pride's only response to the Counter Guardian's biting sarcasm was to lean in forward, a barely restrained smile on his face.

"I want you, Emiya, to be the lead Harem Protagonist in my story!" Pride proudly proclaimed, jumping from his chair and an arm outstretched towards above.

There was naught but silence. For fifteen straight seconds not a single noise was made. Pride stood silently, an excitable smile on his face.

Emiya on the other hand sat there, the image of flabbergasted. His eyes comically widening, his mouth slightly agape, he had even dropped by his teacup due to the unexpectedness. His mind blanked out for a few seconds, trying to reboot itself. Out of everything the Archer imagined he would say, never in his long and tragedy filled existence did he ever, ever thought of hearing such a thing.

"Are you messing with me?" He genuinely asked.

"Do I look like someone that jokes around?"

"Yes." Emiya immediately answered.

"Hughhh argg. That hurts!" Pride gripped heart in faux pain. Not a second later he stopped and playfully stuck his tongue out to the silver haired warrior. "There's the famous Emiya biting wit I see."

Emiya gave him a deadpanned look. His credibility as some all-powerful being was quickly going down the drain.

"What in Root's name could you possibly think that I would a good candidate for…whatever the hell you want. You've got the wrong person if that's the case." His face scrunching up in uncertainty.

"I think otherwise. Because you, my cynical friend are an Emiya!"

"I'm very aware of that." Archer deadpanned, wondering what his name has to do with anything. "That still doesn't answer why I of all people am qualified. Surely there's someone better suited for this."

"Ahh, the classic Shirou humbleness I see."

"I'm nothing like him!" Emiya scowled, upset at being compared to his old, naïve self.

Pride held up both of his hands in surrender but still held his infuriating smile.

"You're not wrong. However, you're still underestimating yourself."

Pride snapped his finger and various screens appeared before Emiya.

His eyes widened at the numerous sights of himself. There, various images and videos involving the crimson archer played out. Each one showing something different. One was where he was smiling at Rin and Shirou before launching himself at Berserker, another was him was gently caressing an unconscious Rin before cutting off his arm, the most recognizable one was him backstabbing Souichirou Kuzuki and Caster to save Rin and Shirou. There was also more interesting depiction such as him and brown-haired girl fighting within a digital background, one where he was cooking with the presence of other servants all laughing, one where he was having a cook off with Caster; Medea and strangest one of them all; one where he and Rin were in a gameshow.

"Allow me to educate you on just how popular you really are." Pride cackled as he pushed up his glasses, light shining out of it, obscuring his eyes.

"Despite your seemingly cold and callous exterior demeanor, deep down you are a good person. Beyond your pessimism and self-loathing, you are still Shirou to a degree. You can be kind and understanding. And in spite of what you say, you'll still try your best to fight as a hero even if you don't believe you are on. You are also quite sarcastic at time; your lashing tongue and quick wit is quite to behold.

Aloof but far from kind, witty but knows when to be serious.

Then there's also your backstory. A man wrapped in tragedy and have suffered untold times. A broken shell of man, and yet you still move forward. Even willingly to part with your selfish desire for the greater good of those you cherish. A story that tugs at the heartstrings. One that others cannot help but get attach to and root for you. Especially with the satisfying ending you get at UBW."

Several more screens appeared, each one depicted the crimson Counter Guardian in a different light, following along the writer's point.

"You're also an underdog. While you are far from weak, there are others that eclipse you in terms of strength and power. Yet, that doesn't stop you from fighting head on even if it means total death. Not to mention your own style of fighting and magecraft that is just chockfull of awesomeness and potential."

More screens appeared, each one depicting a grand battle of himself against either monsters and beasts, or Servants he'd only knew in passing. Each a spectacle to behold as he and his opponent fought.

"Then, there's also your skills. From the lists of amazing physical feats of your own to your undeniable godly cooking. You are a man of many trades. That's even not mentioning your physical appearance that makes all the girls, and guys, swoon at the sight of you. From your chiseled pecs and body, to impressive arms and legs, sculpted face, mesmerizing eyes, exotic bronze skin, and alluring silver hair. All of these traits and attributes together has granted you the greatest skill of all. The ultimate skill! Harem Protagonist EX! A skill exclusively possessed by yourself and only two others, Shirou Emiya and Ritsuka Fujimaru - Gudao. In short, you Emiya are top tier Husbando material!"

More screens dotted the air, this time of himself in various outfit, some casual like him in a suit or at a beach in trunks and an open Hawaii shirt to him in the kitchen with an apron and cooking up a storm of meals. Charts and rows statistics accompanies these, those the actual values and statistics were loss on him, they were quite high from what he could make out. Even numerous popularity poll of some kind that saw him ranked high on the list.

There was even a brief video of him performing a high jump? What was that about? Emiya wondered.

Emiya sat there as Pride continued to babble on and on, talking in great length and detailed about him as more and more windows appeared. He wouldn't admit it, but he was starting to get a bit unformattable, especially at how fanatical and dare he say it, passionate the writer was getting about the details of his life.

"Not to mention, the surge of works involving you, be they fan work or from Type-Moon, have brought you untold recognition which has only boosted your popularity. And with Fate's popularity sky-rocketing in the last several years, the whole eroge things and jokes with the visual novels has been resurfacing and—"

"Ok, enough!" Emiya exclaimed, ending the longwinded malarkey.

Pride snapped out of his trance state, a sheepish smile plastered over his face.

"S-sorry. Got a bit excited."

'A bit?' Emiya held his tongue. He took a deep breath.

"What do you gain out of this?" He wasn't no fool. If Emiya took what he read at face value, then he would benefit mostly from this deal. Then that begs the question, what does Pride gain out of this? He severely doubted that it was doing this out of the kindness of its own heart. Years of cynicism made sure of that.



"Yes. Experience." Pride sat back down, making himself comfortable, linking his finger on top of his knees.

"As I said before I'm a Writer, albeit a very young and inexperienced one. If I wish to get better at expanding my craft and grow as a Writer, I will need more experience. Thus, I would need practice. And you, Emiya, is perfect for the role I have in mind."

"You wish to dictate my life." Emiya accused, his frown deepening. Just like all the others.

"Correction, I wish to write and dictate the scenarios of your new life, but not directly interfere." He smoothly countered, waving away his skepticism, never once breaking his strive. "This new life will be your own and yours alone. You won't have to worry about a sudden end of the world threat or Alaya. Unlike the bitch, I have the decency to be transparent when making deals."

Emiya blinked once. Then twice before snorting aloud. To call Alaya, the Collective Will of Humanity a bitch was quite the understatement in the Counter-Guardian perspective. He was either extremely brave or extremely stupid. Either way the crimson archer didn't deny his words.

Alaya was indeed quite a bitch.

Glancing away, he silently mulled over the proposition once again.

Seeing the subtle change of interest Pride kept on pushing.

"In the end we both benefit from this." Pride continued. "You get a chance at a new fresh start, no sudden heroics, no end of the world threat, and most importantly no Alaya to get in your way. Not to mention the main benefit you'll be getting. And I get to try my hand at something new, a learning experience if you will. A win-win situation for the both of us. So, what do you say?"

After a full minute of silent contemplation Emiya had this to say.

"What if I refuse?" He posed the question.

"Then that's that." Pride shrugged. "I'll just move onto the Emiya and try my luck. In fact, you would be interested to know that you are not the first EMIYA I have spoken to."

"Hoh?" Emiya raised a single brow at the information. "You've meet others? How many?"

"You are number 7." He revealed with a knowing grin. "In addition, you are also the furthest I've gotten to convincing. The others in the end ignored or denied my words immediately."

"That sounds about right…" He mumbled to himself.

"Like I said, I'm not like her. I'm giving you a fair choice. I figured you of all people would jump at the first chance to escape. Although in my opinion, you'll be shooting yourself in the foot by rejecting what could probably be the most important decision in your life. Can't imagine serving her and being forced to break your creed every time she sends you out to kill would be all sunshine and happiness. Seriously, she's quite the slave driver." Pride continued.

If what he was saying was true, then…this could be it.

While he did fail at killing his younger past self to cause a temporal paradox to occur, thus erasing his existence forever. Fate, it seems had found it fit to grant him a second chance. A chance to finally escape the wretched Hell that he foolishly entrapped himself in by accepting Alaya contract. This could be it!

Plus, the benefit outlined would be the cheery on top of the proverbial cake.

But the gnawing doubt and years of pessimism remained strong. There was still a chance that all of this was just an elaborate lie.

"How do I know this isn't some elaborate lie?" Emiya voiced.

"I'm afraid that's up for you to decide. I have spoken all that I could to try and convince you. If you wish to doubt and persist what I say as nothing but lies, then I cannot do anything to change your opinion. Only you and you alone can make the final decision."

Pride leveled an even stare at the Counter-Guardian, of which he returned with an equally defiant glint. Silence elapsed once again as the two stared at one another in an impromptu staring contest.

It would be Emiya to break standoff.

Inhale. The Counter-Guardian took a deep breath.

Exhale. He released it. His shoulder fulling shagging and relaxed. He leaned back completely in his seat, at eased. Resting one of his hands on the armrest of the chair Emiya tilted his head and rested it on said hand. His iconic jaded/know-it-all smirk firmly in place on his face.

"Where do I sign?"

Emiya made his decision.

It appeared for no more than a millisecond but Emiya caught the surprise and even satisfaction that appeared in the Writer's eye. Pride returned with a smirk of his own.

"Simply say, I accept." He instructed, standing up and holding out his hand to the silver-haired man.

Emiya stood up and grabbed his hand, shaking it and saying the words. As soon as he did, tendrils of what he could only described as words shot forward encased his entire arm and hand. Incoherent scribbles appeared and pressed along his right appendage before settling down and fading away. Leaving no permeant marks on his tanned skin.

He had no idea what just happened, but he seen enough within his lifetime to assume the contract was in effect and binding.

Raising his hand and with one final snap of his finger light suddenly burst forth from out the Counter-Guardian vision. Dimming a few seconds later Emiya was greeted by the sight mysterious door. It was clear for what purpose the door served.

"Simply walk through that door and your new life begins."

Without another word, Emiya walked towards it. Just as he reached for the doorknob and was about to turn it, Pride called out to him one last time.

"Shirou…" Pride called, calling him by the name he abandoned a long time ago.

With his hand still on the doorknob he craned his neck back to the Writer.

"…Do try and enjoy yourself." Pride said, a soft and genuine smile accompany it.

Emiya said nothing and simply turned his back towards Pride. Unseen by the mysterious Writer, Emiya's lips curved into a small smile. Opening the door an array of bright light flowed forth.

"We'll see…" With one last regard Emiya nonchalantly waved goodbye and stepped through. Once through the door shut with itself and disappeared. Leaving only Pride alone within his world.

"I suppose we will, now won't we?" Pride gave one last chuckle. Taking his leave, his form shimmered and disappear.

I originally intended it to be entirely one chapter, but then decided to split it up to a Prologue and a Chapter 1. Don't worry, you'll get what you're looking for in the next chapter, I promise.

Next Chapter: Chapter 1: As the Dawn settles, Nyx rises or Maids, the corner stone of every good vanilla H-series.