A/N: This is going to be my first try at a real full-length story. I don't know what my posting schedule will be like but I hope to have at least 3,000 to 4,000 words a chapter.
I want to give a different side of Archer that I haven't really seen before, and I hope that I properly convey that to my readers in this story.
I own nothing and no money is made from this story
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"I am the bone of my sword."
Those words were the bane of his existence. He despises them, curses them with all that he is. If it weren't for those words he would not be in this hell. If they were not so true, he would not be in a prison of his own creation…
He stood upon the hill of blades in the [Unlimited Blade Works] as he always had; dressed in his usual clothes but forgoing the holy shroud for a plain brown half-cloak. He was looking out at the cracked and broken world that was the manifestation of his soul. Monolithic gears hung in the smog-filled sky turned endlessly; everytime one completed a fraction of its rotation, around two dozen swords fell through the smoke and embedded themselves into the ground like gravestones.
Which they are.
With each new sword that touched the ground new memories of his missions as a Counter Guardian slammed into him. His hands tightened into fists as the images of him killing countless people flashed through his vision.
'It's not fair. It's not fair!' He thought as the images continued to come. 'This isn't what I wanted.'
All he wanted to do was help people.
No. That's not exactly true. The man that had once be Shirou Emiya couldn't remember much about his previous life before his death, but he would never forget that foolish and accursed dream. The one born from a black sun and the hollowed out shell of a boy who should have never existed. To become a Hero of Justice.
What a fucking joke.
A Hero of Justice that saves everyone? There was no such thing. It was impossible. If you save one life you inadvertently leave another to die. Sometimes you have to sacrifice the one to save the many. No matter who you are, what you can do. No matter how strong, or how fast, or how skilled, or how brave, or how well equipped you are; you can't save everyone.
To carry the weight of every life one sees would surely break any who attempted.
He should know. He tried and that burden shattered him into the mindless attack dog he is now.
But still, he tried. By the Root, he devoted everything he was into that impossible dream. That ever-distant utopia.
He trained harder than any mortal had in centuries. Pushed his mind and body to the absolute limits and then some. Honed his mediocre skills to terrifying levels, turning the simplest of spells to the most dangerous anyone had ever seen. He fought creatures from humanity's worst nightmares: Dead Apostle Ancestors, beings from beyond the stars, from different universes, and heroes whose legends were permanently etched into humanity's history. He saved the goddamn world! He performed these labors and feats without once asking for payment or thanks. He rarely even gave his name. He did these things without witness or reward, not because he wanted anything in return, all he wanted to do was help people. And what did it get him?
Countless betrayals, a public execution, and a hell too cruel for words.
"IT'S NOT FAIR!" He shouted. At his command, a barbed, blood red spear appeared in his hand.
The legendary spear wielded by Ireland's golden child. Lancer of the fifth Holy Grail War. It has never missed its mark; its name is...
"Gae Bolg!" He called out its name and launched it towards the closest gear.
The explosion sent him back a step and rattled the many swords near it, but when Archer's vision cleared nothing had changed; the gear continued to turn and the swords continued to fall.
The Counter Guardian fell to his hands and knees and sent out a prayer to anyone who was listening. "It's not fair. Please, someone, anyone; please save me."
Nothing changed and Shirou Emiya's glass heart shattered into pieces and the gears never stopped turning.
So consumed by his despair he never noticed the amulet in his pocket glow nor the copy of the jeweled sword in his reality marble flicker out of existence.
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An Eternity Later
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Archer couldn't quite place what was wrong but something was definitely off.
He stood from his seated position and scanned the horizon of his world. Nothing seemed to be off, but in his bones, he could tell something had changed; so he Reinforced his vision and scanned again. Nothing.
He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses and then he caught it. A sound, or rather a lack of. He snapped his eyes open and then looked up.
No…
It wasn't possible.
Those infernal gears had finally stopped turning. The swords stopped falling.
Just as Archer finally beginning to process what that meant the world around him suddenly shattered and he began to fall.
A tempest of colors, images, and emotions shot through him and around him as he fell through the divide between the worlds. The cracks between the multiverse.
The [Kaleidoscope].
Archer felt his soul being torn apart piece by piece. Then, just as he danced on the edge of oblivion, he felt someone drag his soul to safety.
And then everything went black.
"Sigh. You owe me for this, you idiot. This wasn't easy by any definition of the word. So when I find you better be grateful."