It was supposed to be a simple robbery, mused an unnamed thug, feeling a gentle breeze of the young night brushing against his face. He saw the lone moon in all of its shattered glory, thinking about the fate and his eventual place in this bizarre thing called life. Ah, he thought, simply robbed of any words, what a pleasant day it is.
He felt the boot finally connecting with his skull, leaving him unconscious for a while and promising a killer headache in the prison. His prized glasses, red as tomato juice – this particular thug hated with incredible passion metaphors that involved blood and considered it something below a man of his class – shatter, producing a heart-breaking (and bone-shattering) cacophony that completely ruined the harmony of the night.
The unnamed (but extremely charming) thug saw the figure of the winner in the fight (more like one-sided slaughter, actually) between those two brave men. It was a man of great stature, his gray eyes piercing through his, and his tanned complexion only adding to the aura of mystery he almost excluded. Truly, a hero worthy of the legends.
Uh, said one Emiya Shirou, looking at the scene before him. It was a total mess: a group of men lying in small packs around him, all dressed in the same clothes, safe for our hero, who preferred less black and more red in his clothes. He was, as opposed to those around him, totally unharmed, if we exclude him obviously dangerous steel boots.
What should I do now? – he lamely asked no one in particular. It was a plan that seemed incredibly simple at first – see the heist, prevent the heist, beat up bad guys – but no lore describing the adventures of ancient heroes had even a single note what to do after the deed itself was done. I mean, that boring part was always omitted, right?
Oh, he exclaimed boldly, I can call the police! They will put them into jail, and I will be free to go, and the justice will be served! What a great plan! Shirou, you are genius!
Alas, fate had different plans for this clueless youth. Well, fate, and the dangerous and obviously malevolent figure that appeared out of the shadows between the alleyways. He stepped into the light, and… became a she?
What the…?! Hey, brat, who do you think you are?
Shirou turned to see who was calling him, and saw a wo – no, not just a woman, she was the woman. With a long mane of magenta hair and rather some generous – ahem – assets, she was what a common man would call a total babe. Even a small scar on her gorgeous face wasn't a flaw: it added more to her wild and untamed look. She was also armed with some dangerous guns, if you know what I mean…
Heck, she actually had guns that looked like a pair of flintlock pistols. A fact Shirou became aware of, after seeing the barrel pointed at him. Suddenly, there was a bright flash, and then nothing more.
And by 'nothing more' I meant 'nothing more remained at the place where the boy stood before' because it was literally obliterated by a shot from the woman's pistol.
What in the Remnant? – thought Shirou in his hiding place – It's a good thing I dodged that. I should thank Fuji-nee for that reflex training later… or not. After all, she was just throwing swords at me for the whole day, shouting 'DODGE!' every time.
It was his worst birthday party ever.
Come one, brat, you can get up now. I already released all of my pent-up stress and frustration over those mindless brutes Alexander calls 'his boys'. High quality warriors, my ass!
He wasn't completely sure whether he should follow her orders or not. If she was true to her words, then he had an opportunity to catch her off guard, and, most likely, got shot in the process. However, if she was lying, he would also get shot, so the choice here was about either getting shot by the mysterious woman or also getting shot by the mysterious woman.
Sadly, across the countless parallel universe, only a number of facts remained absolute. For one, Emiya Shirou was always a bit suicidal. Ah, sorry, heroic is the word.
He rushed at the full speed, feeling the aura pushing him beyond the limits.
And, fact two: universe hated Emiya Shirou.
Only to receive a generous amount of explosive dust in the face.
Ha-ha-ha! Sucker believed me! Oh man, no one will believe me!
The last thing the boy saw was he visage of the pirate woman laughing at him, and… was that a red spear? He must be imaging things from the aura loss.