The Throne of Shirou

by Arrixam

From across Time/Space, legends from the age of Fanfiction Net come together to engage once more in the Fifth Holy Grail War. All is not as it seems as the Shirous of various works must band together to stop a force beyond their current means. But let it be known they are not alone. For they hail from the nexus above and beyond, the Throne of Shirou!

10. Umbasa

The Throne of Shirou!

(Produced by Arrixam)

The King of Swords, performed by Gabriel Blessing

The King of Steel, performed by Marcus Galen Sands

King Apeiron, performed by James D Fawkes

The Ash of Miracles, performed by Third Fang

Sir Emiya of the Round Table, performed by TypeMoonFreak

Troper!Shirou, performed by Satire Swift

***NOW FEATURING***

The Keeper of Souls, performed by LD 1449

The God of Blades, performed by Ginobi47

The Hero of Lies, performed by Shintouyu

Chief Editor (Beta)

Third Fang

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A note from the author!

So what's my excuse this time?! Honestly, I got nothing. I did, in fact, have about 6k words done of this chapter when I posted the previous one. But I was consumed with other projects that, admittedly, took up more of my interest than this one. However, now after being satisfied with updates to BSWR and Doll Maker, I got back into the groove of ToS.

On another note, I'm a little peeved at how Doll Maker is more popular than when ToS was starting out. I should be happy, but I put a lot more effort into ToS than some blab of my OC.

So here's how it's going to go from now on. I will work on Throne of Shirou, then move to Doll Maker, then Blood Stained White Rose, and then back to Throne of Shirou to repeat the cycle. I'm going to try to post a chapter a week, so therefore have each story updated at least once a month. I can't promise much since life tends to rape me at every chance it can get... plus I'm easily distracted...

Speaking of distractions. Master Marcus! Remember that story idea I proposed to you a month or so ago? Well, I'm still working on it. I decided to make it a ridiculously long one-shot covering the entire fourth season. Already at 20k words.

I laugh at how no one understands what I'm saying.

Moving on, REPLY TO PMS AND REVIEWS!

So a LOT of people are pissed that I killed off Galahad. This warms my heart. Yes, it really does. It means Galahad was so loved that it hurt people to have her killed by Miyu. I wonder how many readers I lost because of that... Anyways, I have a surprise for you people if you bothered to read my author notes from the previous chapter.

Let's see... Ah. I'm glad everyone liked the interview at the end of the chapter (with half of you liking it more than the actual chapter... *sniff*) so it means I'll be keeping it up for a while. At the end of this chapter I have another person interviewed.

Next, everyone's perspective will be played out at some point. In this chapter we have one of the newest characters involved. Now, I won't be having everyone's PoV on the same day (I would like the story to progress), so in future events I will be having chapters dedicated to specifically ONE Shirou. And we can't forget the actual Canon!Shirou. As much as we all dislike him, he IS the main character of the story, even if I've been pushing under the rug lately...

Now, without further ado, I present to you selection of the newest Shirou Rangers! I would like to thank everyone who had sent me recommendations as it helped my search significantly. However, I could only accept so many and had to narrow it all down to just three. On a last note, I am only accepting ONE MORE Shirou. That of Shirou Crimson, the villain. I have a few recommendations but am still looking. Any and all help is greatly appreciated!

(The other list of Shirou Rangers is back in chapter 4)

Shirou Black- The Keeper of Souls! (Symbolically the dot. This Ranger has the highest potential to be molded into ANY of the other Rangers, including Gold and White. However, this Shirou in particular relies heavily on the basics of the basics of each principle. In exchange for not gaining advanced battle skills, this Shirou overpowers everything he does with overwhelming brute force. And if brute force isn't enough, then he'll use MORE until something caves. Able to adapt to any situation, can work without a team, and will be guaranteed to be the last man standing)

Shirou Gray/Silver- The God of Blades! (Symbolically the line. Through effort, this Ranger has the ability to morph himself into any of the other shapes, thus 'faking' the qualities of any of the other Rangers but at a lesser degree. The middleman, he works of his own volition rather than on one side. Can be the One-Man Army or Thorn At My Side, depending on the circumstances)

Shirou Crystal- The Hero of Lies! (Symbolically the prism. This Ranger has the greatest of potential to become ANYTHING with the least amount of impurities in their growth. At the same time, this Ranger does not need to be affiliated with one shape/color as the other Rangers. They have the capacity to incorporate all of the shapes/colors should the Ranger devote themselves enough to learn. Arguably the most powerful of all the Rangers)

And there we have it! Without anything else to say, I present to you the next chapter of ToS!

On with the show!

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Chapter 2

Wednesday

Part B

The Slayer of Demons

It was finally over. Shirou paced himself as he began to exit out of the vessel of the Old One. How long had he been since he, Rin, and Saber had been sent into this strange and dark world? The perception of time in this world was forever at a standstill. There was no such thing as night ever since the Mist had invaded the land of Boletaria. Perhaps it had something to do with the Old One influencing the world.

No. He remembered someone mentioning something about the sun dying long before the Age of Man. Something about a King of Sunlight whose name had been forgotten…

With every step he took to get away from the Old One's core, he felt himself start to… cleanse, for lack of a better word. All his burdens started to roll off as a non-existent weight lifted itself from his shoulders. And why shouldn't they? The demons were no more with all of their Primal Ones, those dreadful and fearsome Archdemons, had been slain during their journey. And the problem that brought it all to this land, the Old One he had just met, was being lulled back to its eternal slumber by the Black Maiden.

Shirou shifted his balance on the newly acquired blade strapped to his right hip. He had no idea why he pulled it from the King's grip. The black blade Soul's Brandt seemed to call to him. And as he held it in his right hand, its twin blade, the Demon's Brandt, sang praises of its reunion. Naturally, his eyes had picked up the properties of the new weapon.

It was the polar opposite of the jagged white broadsword. As Demonbrandt was built to be used by one of virtue to face off against evil, Soulbrandt was built simultaneously for the exact opposite reason. It was to be used by the condemned to slay the virtuous. He would never think about using such a weapon for its intended purposes; however, it was Demonbrandt that was calling for him to be its owner. As soon as he pulled it free, both blades had accepted him as their new master.

It was strange. He had always thought since he bested Old King Doran's challenge he was already the master of Demonbrandt.

As soon as he stepped out of the gaping mouth of the World Tree monster, as soon as his feet hit the sand, as soon as his eyes shifted towards the open sky of this underground abyss…

He felt… complete.

These few short weeks in this hell were finally over. They had achieved their goal and were now able to return to their world. All he had to do was head back over to the portal to be united with Saber and Rin who were waiting for him back home. He had stayed to vanquish the Old One. If King Alant had not meddled in his desperate last attempt for power, he would have been able to go along with them. No, he stayed behind to make sure things were complete.

And complete they were. Saber had been the most reluctant to let him go alone. It was understandable. She was his Servant and had sworn to protect him always— that and their relationship had grown that much more since their time here. But no matter how much she wanted to go, the Maiden could only bring one of them. And Saber was still weak from her exposure to the Archdemons and from the final fight against the False King.

He assured her everything would be alright. He had Demonbrandt— and Soulbrandt now—, the Jeweled Sword the Blue Bloods, the anti-magic Dark Silver armor of Garl Vinland, the Monk's Cowl— Altered to fit better as a cloak, and a handful of demon and Archdemon souls within his arsenal. Not to mention his training from Saber as well as his newly developed Magecraft.

Oh. And not to mention Rin would kill him if he didn't make it back. That was good motivation to not screw up.

Nothing would please him more than to return home. He missed cooking in his kitchen, sipping tea in the dining area, sleeping on a nice futon… He missed his friends and family. He wanted to get back as soon as possible to them.

"Help!"

The cry of Rin's voice echoed throughout the confines of the underground abyss. His heart dropped through his stomach. A thousand scenarios flashed through his mind. Not one of them good. He did not hesitate as he sprinted through the sand, forcing the Hero and Mixed souls to amplify his strength and speed. His body ached and resisted his charge, but he forced it to move and would suffer the repercussions later. If Rin was calling for help, then it meant Saber was indisposed. Shirou had Avalon inside him still as Saber wanted him to keep it for the final fight.

He cursed aloud as he leapt forward at the last step on the top of the hill. The light of the portal wrapped around him as he was sent through time and space to Rin.

*Scene*

The Throne of Heroes existed outside of any dimension of reality conceivable to man. In a manner of speaking, the Throne was not a place that existed to begin with. It was a fictitious area, closer to a concept than an actual location. Time and Space could not define it. The Authorities of the Lawmakers could not either. It was a place of records in which those worshipped, glorified, idolized, fantasized were to gather. A place of records without records. A place of Heroes without Heroes.

The theories the mages who knew of the Throne were not wrong, but they were never correct at the same.

It was not some sort of metaphorical library or museum in which each shelf contained a glorified individual to observe. It was a great, swirling mass of infinite 'words' blending together into one pool of collective energy. So, Heroes did not mingle with another, did not perceive the other, did not so much as acknowledge their own existence as such mundane senses did not exist.

Still, the 'recorded' phantasmal being felt something tug at her core. Just as she had witnessed before from her fellow Heroes, some of which she had experienced herself, she knew what this tug meant. Some mortal was calling for her duties once more. At the least it wasn't that pesky Alaya wanting her to demolish another target this time.

But this pull felt… different. Normally the restrictions placed on the Throne would activate the failsafe in which kept each of its prisoners from leaving. This meant instead of the actual Hero leaving to enter the mortal plane, an exact copy of said Hero would have been made in their place. Much like shedding their outer layer of skin as a replacement. Afterwards, when the copy was complete and disposed of, a 'report' would be made for the original Hero to evaluate as to curve their curiosity on what sort of job they might have performed.

This was not one of those moments.

The failsafe did not activate. Instead, something powerful was calling for her. It broke through the restraints and protections of the Throne not even True Magic could ever achieve. She felt some metaphysical ribbon tie itself around her forearm and…

"Help!"

…By the Root. It was Rin!

The Heroin could not help but slap her forehead. The tsundere known as Rin Tohsaka was not a person to be able to take on stress. When Rin was stressed, she makes mistakes. When she makes mistakes, she panics. And when Rin panics, anything can happen.

Case and point, this anomaly.

Rather than ponder about it, the Heroin already knew what would happen next. The guardian system of the Throne would activate eventually, remove the problem by severing the link or by removing Rin Tohsaka from existence altogether, and then reset the universe to its natural course. Whoever, or whatever, was put in charge of this place was one hell of a strict warden and would go to any lengths to ensure maximum security. Even if it meant the destruction of the multiverse.

On the other hand…

Without any further thought, the Heroin accepted the tug and added her own support to it. This was her ticket out of this prison. She wasn't being copied and left alone in the dark any longer. She was finally going to be free.

She was swept away.

*Scene*

"You'll never catch me alive!" Shiro cried out in triumphant glee.

Ah, what a glorious day it was to be alive! Sure, he ditched Zayd and David behind so he could get a few seconds head start in running away from the angry mob of teenage underclassmen. Sure they'll probably get him back later. But it was all totally worth it.

He had been able to enter the Forbidden Garden and had a taste of its Fruit.

Where? Why, none other than the girl's locker room! The three of them had this day planned for months— nay, years! Everything was meticulously planned, architectural blueprints of the massive school had been surveyed and studied extensively, and mock rooms had been built for training exercises. Scapegoats had been made in the case people were wondering where they were during class. Not a soul outside of the three had been told. Those that almost found out were silently dealt with.

They had chosen the most glorious of days to exact their scheme: Swim Day! The first day of summer when the school would schedule co-ed swimming of either the indoor or rooftop pools. Now, Shiro could have just been any other pervert and watch the girls swim in their tight-fitting swimsuits. Hell, he could have asked any member of his harem— team! Any member of his team— to put on swimsuits and model for him and they (… most of them at least) would have willingly done so. He also knew that a fight would have broken out on who would capture most of his attention which would lead to a big catfight, wet wrestling, and suits being torn asunder.

But he wasn't just a mediocre pervert. He was a super pervert!

And so, with the help of his friends, the three had been able to sneak into unused lockers and watched as the females of 3-W strip and change into their swimwear. Even better, the variety was upped as more than one class had to prepare for swimming. It took all of his willpower to hold back a giggle of glee as blood dripped down his nose.

But then his boner was killed when a pair of red orbs honed in on the locker he was hiding in. His body froze up as he began to sweat up a storm. Of all the people who had to be changing, of all the members of his harem— team, he corrected— it had to be the only girl who had a sixth sense of when her natural enemy was nearby.

Gilgamesh Uruk, hailed Queen of Tsukumihara High.

She was looking right at him and wasn't even bothering to approach the locker to reveal him. No, instead, she was activating her family Gate of Babylon to skewer him before he could flee.

And this was why he had come up with Plan B behind Zayd and David's back.

He reached for his cellphone and punched in the emergency line he set up for should this instance ever happen.

Two locker doors burst open and a spring ejected Zayd and David out of their hiding places, caught completely unaware of what was happening. Girls turned at the sudden appearance of individuals hiding and it took a moment for those nearby to realize what was happening. It took a while longer for them for the first girl to understand the situation.

Two boys had infiltrated their haven. While nearly all the girls were naked.

Screams echoed and rattled the walls of the school as a unified sonic acoustic screech of teenage girls wailed. Things were thrown as a few that were clothed enough began to beat down on Zayd and David. Some even used their Noble Phantasms to blast them around like rag dolls.

It was during this moment Shiro took his chance to escape. He heard Gil shriek out in her fitting rage as some of her family heirlooms zipped by him. More screams shook the halls as eyes flickered in his direction. But before they could do anything, he was out the door.

Which led him to now, running for his life as an angry mob of half-clothed girls were trying to chase him down, including a ferociously ticked-off Gil. Spells, Noble Phantasms, and strange creatures turned projectiles flew by him as he effortlessly dodged them. They'll never catch him!

"Shiro-kun~"

Dread filled him as the lone figure stood at the end of the hallway blocking him from his escape. That long flowing green hair, that porcelain face, that unholy yet alluring figure belonging only to a trap…

And that loving yet murderous smile could only belong to Enkidu Aruru.

Normally Shiro would be wondering what sort of graduate would be doing here on a school day. That is, until he saw the rolled up blueprint tightly held in his left hand.

Ah. So Enkidu had somehow stumbled upon their plans and had come to enact justice.

Still running at full-speed, Shiro's mind came to a crawl as he evaluated his options. One, he could continue to run and face Enkidu head-on. But he doubted unless he used Unlimited Blade Works he could defeat the bishoujo trap. The living daylights would be beaten out of him. On two, he could just give himself up and be subjugated to what punishment the girls behind him would deliver. Once again, a great deal of maiming would be the end result of such a path.

Hmm… To be punished by a beautiful and highly misleading trap or to be punished by a horde of nearly naked girls…? Gods he was truly one hell of a pervert if both options didn't make him shiver in fear, but rather in anticipation.

But he didn't want to be captured. This was his crowning achievement! He would be a failure to perverts everywhere if he were to give in to such cravings and have his rein ending right here. No! They will speak of Shiro Emiya for generations!

"FOR PERVERTS EVERYWHERE!" he shouted as he made a sharp left and leapt out the window…

…Of the tenth floor.

Probably should have put at least some thought into this…

However, as the glass was still just sliding off his skin and before gravity could take hold of him, he felt a sensation unlike any other. It was familiar, yet at the same time he knew he had never experienced it before. It was a torrent of power in which was wrapping itself around him, blanketing him as though it was going to protect him from his fall.

"Help!"

His eyes shot wide open at the voice ringing in his head. He thought it was impossible. He had left that world behind. How and why was it reaching out for him?

"…Rin?"

Before the students would reach the window, any evidence that Shiro Emiya had existed in this world would be gone.

*Scene*

Shirou had Soulbrandt and Demonbrandt in each grip, his mind calling up a series of weapons he had seen from the lands of Boletaria, and his body Reinforced to engage in whatever was threatening Rin. He blinked a few times as the light faded and his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. Right off the bat he knew he wasn't alone as he felt the presence of two others inside the compact room. The demons within him answered his call with some hesitation. He was not the only one tired from the final confrontation against Alant.

A sword of pure photon light manifested, floating above their heads. His eyes greedily read it and stored it away in his inner world. However, it could not set inside his Reality Marble because it was not a weapon that ever existed. The history of the weapon stated it was but a few seconds old.

It was simply 'light' in the shape of a sword.

To his left, the caster who had conjured the light, was a young woman a few years his senior, possibly in her early to mid-twenties. Her eyes were metallic silver, her skin slightly tanned, and her hair in which fell down below her shoulders was white with the tips red. She wore a casual dress of blue and white which wrapped around her neck but exposed her shoulders. Her expression was just as sharp as his, if not more so.

To his right, however, he had to take a step back in shock as well as readjust his sight to make sure he was seeing correctly. The one before him was… him. It was a spitting image of Emiya Shirou with his red hair, gold eyes, and fair skin. But… there were some small differences from what he could tell. The skin was just a shade darker, not tanned but getting there. And there were small splotches of white mixed in his hair, barely noticeable as they were dotted in the roots of his hair. Other than that, he was dressed in a school uniform with a button-up shirt, slacks, a school blazer, and school-given indoor shoes.

There was fire in his eyes. Fire akin to a forge. It was roaring, capable of breaking anything down to its base, but well controlled and refined. It reminded him of the Flame Lurker, or at least what it could have been if the Mist never came.

"…Zelretch," the schoolboy grunted under his breath in agitation.

Shirou felt like he should know what that meant. The word, title, name, whatever it was sounded familiar to him. He remembered Kiritsugu mentioning something like it before, but Shirou could not recall what it was.

"Where's Rin?" Shirou asked instead, not sure if they would know the answer or not.

The schoolboy came at attention to the question. He looked around and rubbed the bottom of his chin. "Not here, obviously. This is without a doubt her workshop…" His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought of something. "I'm assuming I'm not the only one who heard her voice."

"You were not," answered the female. Her posture shifted as she observed the two of them. "And of course this is no normal summoning. Not only do I not have a Class, but it would seem neither of you are Heroic Spirits." She sighed and then rubbed her temple. "Naturally only Tohsaka could accomplish something like this when she panics…"

"That still doesn't excuse she's in trouble," Shirou spoke up. "Look, I don't know what's going on but we all know we heard Rin cry for help. It means she's in danger and we should—"

"No she's not," sighed the female. When Shirou stared at her in disbelief, she elaborated. "We've wasted precious seconds examining our surroundings and talking—"

"Exactly!"

"…And nothing has happened to us," she finished after pausing for being rudely interrupted. "Regarding life and death situations, if she were truly in such a fiasco where she, the Rin Tohsaka, had to cry out like a little defenseless girl, it means whatever she was facing was something that could have killed her in an instant."

"I came to the same conclusion," said the other Shirou. His eyes shifted over to the Slayer of Demons and explained. "If you know Rin even in the slightest, you know she'd never beg for help unless it was against something that forces her to defy her nature. The only other situation would be if she were tortured to the point of being broken— and I can assure you that wasn't the sound of someone being tortured. Knowing Rin, she probably got herself stuck in a very embarrassing position… again."

There was a smile on this parallel self that creped the living hell out of Shirou, nearly as bad as any of the demons he had faced. He couldn't put his finger on it, nor could he tell what that smile was about, but it told him to keep away from this one as long as possible.

"If it means anything more," the female tossed a few strands of her hair over her ear as she addressed Shirou once more. "I can tell you Rin is more than a mile away. She's not anywhere near my senses and since this isn't a true summoning I can't pinpoint her location. I can only say due to our… thin link I can tell she's no longer in any danger. Besides, even if she was, I wouldn't know where to start looking."

Shirou opened his mouth, but decided to close it as he had nothing else to say. He still wanted to check on Rin to see if she was alright, but at the same time admitted he couldn't possibly know where she was if she wasn't home. He would have to bite back his urges and wait for her to return.

"Oh, you mentioned you're a Spirit without a Class Container?" questioned the schoolboy to the female. "Does that mean you're a true Heroic Spirit straight from the Throne?"

"Courtesy of our favorite witch," she nodded. "You don't seem to be surprised at all by this. I trust this is from experience? Perhaps introductions are in order?"

"Rather," interrupted Shirou, "shouldn't we get to the bottom of this first? I mean, yeah I'm back home and that's great and all… But why are you here as well as…"

A pointed finger at the schoolboy Shirou explained his unfinished question.

To which the one pointed at merely shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I don't know who you are either and I find myself in the same boat running into two of my alternative selves."

Shirou blinked in confusion. Two alternative selves? There was just him and the schoolboy. What the hell was he talking about?

He continued, "Our friend here blames Rin, and I can't argue against her reasons. I, however, blame Zelretch for this, even if he is completely innocent this one time. He did help set up the war in the first place after all."

So Zelretch was a person. Shirou will have to note that down and ask about it later.

"Yes, well, this friend heard the voice of Rin and can recognize her magical signature through the contract," the white-haired woman crossed her arms. "I can assure you the old pervert has nothing to do with it… this time."

"I still blame him," muttered the schoolboy under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

"So…" Shirou looked between his mirror-self and the woman. "Rin's not in danger? Then what are we doing here? Do any of you have an idea of what's going on?"

Silver and gold eyes turned his way as the two individuals gave him a blank look as though annoyed by him. He had asked the same question that they had answered to the best of their abilities and by him asking again they were going around in a circle. Nothing would have gotten solved at this rate.

"Alright, alright," the schoolboy raised his hands and shook his head. "Look, I don't know what's going on. One minute I'm racking up another point for my already impressive resume and in the next I hear Rin's cry for help and here I am. Wasn't doing anything to cause something out of scale like this to happen. And I'm not dead so this is an unusual Summon Servant ritual, if at all. Plus there's also the fact that there are multiples of myself appearing at the same time."

"This is a Summon Servant spell, for sure," nodded the female. "This wouldn't be my first, but it is an oddity under these circumstances, absent summoner not included. I was personally extracted from the Throne of Heroes and granted corporeal form, not a copy of myself, placed into a Class Container, and bound to spiritual form. This is something beyond the means of the Third Magic."

"Zelretch!" repeated the schoolboy.

"Yes, this resembles more the Second than anything," she rolled her eyes as her tone shifted to correcting a child. "But the Throne exists outside the boundaries of reality. Something far more powerful than what the vampire could produce was used. Perhaps at his prime when confronting Crimson Moon but not in his current state. I can only conclude it is an anomaly, something akin to a great phenomenon produced by the omniverse through a series of improbable events in which triggers this 'glitch'."

"Like Rin panicking?"

"Like Rin panicking," she nodded.

Shirou was trying to follow this. Really trying to. He understood the information they were throwing around regarding the War. Rin had shoved all of this into his brain, even beating it into him whenever some of the information was missed or he had forgotten. However, he had no idea what kind of person this Zelretch was. Nor did he know anything about this Second and Third Magic.

"Um…" he tried to get a voice in. "So… who are you two?"

They turned away from their private conversation to look at him with the same expression they had before.

"You," they both said at the same time.

Shirou blinked. It was an obvious answer to come from the schoolboy, but he couldn't understand why the female was saying it. "That's not… That's not what I mean. I mean… who— what are you two?"

The woman sighed while pressing a hand to her brow. "Oh by the Root, was I always this… Very well; if you must know my name is Emiya Shiroko."

Shirou blinked a second time. Emiya… Shiroko?

She went on, "In life, I was the apprentice of Rin while she was being taught by Zelretch. However, when I could not progress my magecraft any further through their resources, I ventured around the world. They tried placing a Sealing Designation on me once they found out I was using my magecraft to help the general populace, but quickly found nothing in their power could suppress me without digging into more costly measures. But no matter how many monsters, rogue mages, and Dead Apostles and their Ancestors I removed, the Mage Association continued to hunt me.

"Regardless, I continued to wander around the world on my own, helping everyone in my power. I quickly found that the ability to Trace swords was an inappropriate method of saving people. Yes, they can kill the wrongdoers harming them, but it was ineffective against things normal swords could never defeat. Disease, for one, to throw an example. From there, I dove in deeper, recreating the wonders and mysteries of nearly every mystic field through my Tracing. I eventually grew too powerful for the Association to keep bothering me. So, in fear I may lash out at them in vengeance, they slapped the title of The Yellow and raised my status to that of Archmagus to appease me. It made sense, in a way. Every magecraft imaginable could be replicated through my swords.

"The people spread word of a miracle worker who was stopping conflicts and healing the injured, sometimes bringing the unfortunate and innocent back to life. The Association wanted my power. The Dead Apostles fled when hearing rumors I was around. The Church condemned me a heretic. But still I wandered, doing all I could.

"The people eventually began to question my motives. Why was this person going around doing these things without revealing their intention? Surely she couldn't be doing this 'just because'. How was she conveniently stopping wars, stopping murders, and countless crimes without having to harm a single individual? How were these so-called injured citizens walking away without wounds as soon as she showed up?"

There was silence as she closed her eyes.

"The people I saved betrayed me. I was branded the villain, the conspirer of all the wrongs I had stopped just so I could flaunt my false miracles. No matter how powerful I had become, I could not go against the world entirely. Eventually, I was caught, tried, and condemned. My death was a grand execution broadcasted to every country across the globe. And the world forever spoke about the terrorist who committed genocide just to fake being a hero.

"I am Emiya Shiroko, Hero of Liars. Does this answer your question on what I am?"

Shirou couldn't say anything. He wanted to. His mouth was open but no words could ever come out.

"I almost followed down your path," however the schoolboy could say a few things. "I wonder if I would have been the same. Granted, I can't Trace things that could cut through conceptions. But I still wandered the world following the path of the hero. I was starting to see the signs. I was becoming something like Archer and I was too stubborn to start to see it.

"But, Rin was the one to save me. I found out not too long ago she made a deal with Zelretch to have me transferred over to another world. See… this isn't my original body. Zelretch performed a ritual in which in order for me to exist in that world without being erased I had to fuse myself with the Shiro Emiya of that world. It was a spell called Overwrite. Meaning in order for me to exist in that world, my soul would have to overpower that of that world's Shiro while my body in my original world would remain soulless.

"I did it because I was told I was needed to save those people. Granted a lot of shit happened and I ended up doing just that, but not for the reasons Zelretch and Rin convinced me for. Maybe she wanted me to live a normal life? Who knows? Well, I ended up living that Shiro's life and I can't complain about it. Dad is still alive, married to Irisviel, and Illya is my loving sister. And in honor of that Shiro's sacrifice, I've done everything I can to incorporate his personality and to live his lifestyle to the best of my abilities!

"But that is without saying, though I am still a Shiro Emiya, I am known as Futusunushi, the God of Blades. I usurped the title from the former prick."

"…So you're like forty-something years old?" questioned Shirou.

"Details," the self-proclaimed God of Blades waved it off.

"Interesting…" Shiroko tapped a finger against her cheek in thought. "Might I ask what sort of person this other Shiro was like? He must be something quite different in a world where Papa, Irisviel, and Illya-nee can live happily with you under the same roof."

The question was hastily avoided as the God of Blades pointed at Shirou. "Now that you know about us, what are you? I'm sure you have one hell of a colorful story." He said while eyeing his attire and swords.

To be honest, Shirou was still trying to get over that hurdle about how Shiroko was a female version of himself. He always thought parallel worlds were abstract dimensions like the Boletarian Kingdom. He never thought to consider these other worlds could be places in exact replication as his own with the exception of one minor detail, like a female Shirou. Plus, there was this schoolboy in front of him. Yes he also came from an alternative world, but Shirou would have thought he came from the future instead based on his story.

Ugh, his head was seriously hurting. He wished Rin was here to explain things to him.

The thought of Rin made him want to check on her. But he forced down those feelings. These two had been right when they said there was no way of knowing where she was at. It was pointless to look for her in such a large city like Fuyuki. Normally, he would have run out to do just that, but the words of Shiroko kept him in place. He still didn't like it, but couldn't argue against it all the same.

"I… don't know where to start," Shirou began to answer. "I suppose I should begin with… how I got… there. This may be a silly question, but do either of you know about the Holy Grail War?"

They both nodded. Shiroko rolled her eyes. Of course they knew. They were talking about terms only found in the Grail War.

"R-Right…" Shirou scratched the back of his head. "During a last-stand against Berserker, I was able to Trace Saber's Caliburn. We used it together against him, but the explosion following after knocked us senseless. By the time we came together… well, we were in a completely new area. Instead of fighting in a forest, Saber, Rin, and I were found inside the terrain of a crumbling castle."

So began his tale about their adventures through Boletaria and its neighboring lands. At how they were bound to the Nexus to slay demons and Archdemons alike in a twisted, decaying world invaded by the Mist. He spoke of how the Old One was stirred from its sleep, lured into the land by the King Alant in his quest for power over the Souls. He talked about the people they met in the land, those who had helped their quest and those who had tried to kill them.

But he did not reveal much to them. Only the bare minimum. Naturally, because it was present, he told them about how he came about his armors, the twin blades, and the Blue Blood sword. He did not tell them about what happens when a Demon was slain, about how their soul will seek out a new host. Perhaps his experience in that God-forsaken world left him skeptical of others.

He did not trust them. It was unfair, but he could not hold them in higher light even if they were him from other worlds.

"I don't really have some kind of title to go by like how you two do," he said after telling them the last thing he was doing before being summoned here. "But the people of the Nexus sure called me a few things. The Slayer of Demons, Archdemon Emiya, King of Souls…

"But… if anything… I was best known as the Keeper of Souls…"

The schoolboy Shiro looked at him with narrowed eyes. "…Why Keeper of Souls?"

Immediately, Shirou countered, "Why do they call you God of Blades?"

This got him to raise his brows. "Fair enough," he said with a shrug.

With the story told and introductions done, Shirou looked at his two counterparts and crossed his arms. His hands were dangling with the tips of his fingers resting on the ends of Soulbrandt and Demonbrandt. "So now what? We just wait for Rin to come home?"

"If we must," replied Shiroko as her floating sword of light came down to her grip. She began to walk toward the stairs, using her Traced weapon as a torch. "But I believe the first thing I shall do is welcome myself to the kitchen. It has been quite a while since I've been able to step foot inside one. Three years before my death, I believe."

Something within Shirou stirred at the mentioning of cooking inside a kitchen. His heart skipped a beat. He hadn't been in the Nexus for very long, but it was still more than long enough for him to miss his haven. Cooking on an open fire with mediocre tools only gave him so much.

"I-I think I'll help you with that," he quickly followed in her footsteps.

"By all means," was her reply, not sounding like she cared in the slightest.

The God of Blades was the last one to exit the workshop, closing the door and locking it using the spare key placed under a lamp. However, he too stopped in his tracks as soon as he followed them out of the hallway.

The place was a wreck. Furniture was thrashed and there was a large gaping hole on the ceiling which reached the next few floors until breaking through the roof. But from what Shirou could tell, there wasn't any sign of a struggle and his nose couldn't pick up the scent of magic anywhere other than from the workshop. His eyes, though, turned towards the open front door. He followed the path and saw a trail of kicked-up dirt. But by the way the dirt was moved, it appeared something came charging towards the door.

"What do you think happened?" worry crossed Shirou's voice.

"…I plead the Fif."

Eyes turned towards the God of Blades.

"Fif?" questioned Shirou.

"FIF!" he raised his voice while repeating the word in a strange accent.

There could only be silence from his counterparts.

The schoolboy gave a heavy sigh as his shoulders slacked. "Really? You don't get the reference? You know what, never mind. I'm saying our summoning no longer resembles the Second or Third True Magic. I think it's more a result of the Fifth."

Shirou gave him such a dead stare. He had no idea what this old man was rambling on about.

"Magic Blue," Shiroko elaborated. "It is the Fifth True Magic, a Sorcery, belonging to the Blue of the Clocktower, Touko Aozaki. It is a miracle with roots linked to time-travel, but its exact specifics are unknown, even to the Blue. But this was years ago when I last saw her. Perhaps now she has a better grasp of its workings.

"And what my… Second self is trying to say is we are not just sent from parallel worlds but it would also appear we have gone back in time. By the look of things, we have stumbled upon near the time when Archer was summoned. And put into her cry for help… I can fathom a guess where she is at the moment. And your joke wasn't funny, Futusunushi-san."

Shirou blinked. "Wait. You know where she is? Where is she?"

There was another sigh from her as she brushed the bangs out of her eyes. "I'm afraid that if you can't figure that out on your own then it would be best you not go. You'll cause more problems than you'd solve."

Shirou stepped forward, "Rin could be in danger and you're not going to let me go? Why would you hide this information? If you really are me then wouldn't you care just as much?"

"It's because we care about her that we're stopping you from doing anything stupid," countered the God of Blades with a sharp look. "Now that we know what's going on Yellow-san and I know for a fact that Rin is fine. She's in good hands and if you just sit and wait she'll be back here a little after midnight."

Shirou scowled. His hand instinctively went to the pummel of Demonbrandt. He wouldn't draw it, but it was there to give him some minor comfort. Still, the intent to do harm onto the two of them wasn't missed. Without having to adjust their stance or change the look in their eyes, the same intent was thrown back at Shirou. It was then Shirou realized he was out of his league.

Though he had faced such grand monstrosities such as the Demons and Archdemons, he still lacked the large amount of time and experience given to the two before him. It was very likely they had come across similar abominations in their journeys. And their shift in mental state had proved just that. All it took was a trigger to be pulled for them to shift into 'combat-mode'. Rather, they seemed to be more at ease in this state of mind than they had been in casual behavior.

The Blue Blood on his back twitched. It was hardly noticeable, barely felt even with the strong bond he had tied to the blade. But it was there, and it was telling him this was wrong.

He relented and removed his hand from Demonbrandt.

And just like that, the malicious intent was removed. The two did not change, let alone give any means to say they were doing anything to begin with. It was as though the tension had never been there to begin with.

The two then turned their attention to each other. One nodded, the other nodded back in kind. Something unspoken was exchanged between the two that Shirou couldn't pick up.

"By the way," the God of Blades turned his attention to his female counterpart. "There's something that I must ask of you. And I'm sure you're the only person who can provide me with an appropriate answer. It is a great philosophical wonder proposed one day by my dear friend David and his question started a spark that became the great GOB Civil War. Many good men have already died in pursuit of this answer and more continue to pass on as the war draws out. I cannot go on like this, having to bury my brothers over something like this. Even if it is worth dying for, there have been far too many causalities that I begin to wonder what is the point!"

She tilted her head curiously and raised a brow. "I'm… not sure what I may do for you. But if it means saving more lives I will do all that I can. What is it?"

The room was silent for a moment as the God of Blades closed his eyes to collect himself. When his eyes opened, they were filled with such fire and steel Shirou had to take a step back.

"If I were to have intercourse with you, my female self, would it be considered incest or masturbation?"

…And then trip over his steps.

Shiroko blinked. Opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again, blinked some more, and then shut her mouth for a final time. She was silent as a light hue of red started to grow across her cheeks.

"WHAT THE HELL KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?!" shouted Shirou as he bounced back to his feet with Blue Blood in his grip. The blade was resonating with him. It wanted to draw blood from this person.

The God of Blades replied with such ferocity and passion his prana was leaking and thickening the air. "It is THE question, you fool! Here before us is a spitting image of ourselves but with a different chromosome! Have you never had the question 'what if I was a girl' and imagined what it would look like? Well she is the answer! There's no need to perform some expendable dark art or heretical science to change your gender when the beauty of the Second Magic can bring us this without repercussions!

"But this did not start the Great Otaku Brotherhood Civil War. No! It is a question of which preference this falls under! As this is your parallel self does this mean any illicit relationship would be considered incest? Can she truly be called your sister and/or cousin? A twin?! It is truly an act of forbidden love?! Or as she is you but as a different gender, can she be called anything? She is a reflection of you and as such would it mean any illicit relationship not be illicit after all?! Would it just be something so meaningless as self-pleasure despite her having her own needs?! This is what we must know! For the greater good of our children and fellow perverts everywhere, we must know!"

Shirou was silent. The Blue Blood had gone still. Some sort of fuse inside the two of them must have gone out as they tried to comprehend his logic. Shirou could only stare dumbfounded.

Shiroko wasn't fairing any better. Her left arm was wrapped around her waist as her right hand covered most of her face with the exception of her eyes. But her face was beat-red and she could not look in the general direction of the God of Blades.

But said pervert cleared his throat, adjusted his stance, and patiently waited for either of the two to come back to reality.

"And… people are… dying over… this?" Shiroko muttered with her words slightly muffled by her hand.

…She wasn't taking this seriously, was she?

The God of Blades crossed his arms. His eyes returned to being just as sharp as they once were. "Do not underestimate the passion of the Brotherhood. People always have a reason to live; ours is just a little more… eccentric. There's only so much I can do as the God of Blades to quell them. My power may be great, but even I can't force them to stop their fighting. Such discrimination will always exist so long as the two sides don't agree with another."

He was talking about this like it was a war between two powerful nations than a group of otakus slapping each other over nonsense.

"Shiroko Emiya," but he wasn't taking this as a novelty. He was dead serious. "You may hold the key to ending the civil war and sparing the lives of everyone in the GOB. As you and I are the only parallel selves to meet, you are the only one who can give me an answer."

His words would have been more valuable if blood wasn't dripping out of his nose.

The Archmagus gave a heavy sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I should slap you for asking something so… wrong. However, I can see the importance of this to you. Come here. I will only give you my answer once and I will not repeat myself. Nor do I want anyone else to hear of this, do you understand?"

The God of Blades curled his hands into excited fists close to his chest as he nodded his head worshipfully like a child… or a pervert willingly given a panty-shot. At Shiroko's gesture for him to come closer, he did as he was told as she whispered the great truth of all things in his ear with her hand up to hide her lips.

But Shirou couldn't help but grimace. Half because he couldn't believe Shiroko was going along with this. The other half because halfway through her answer, both her and the God of Blades' eyes moved onto Shirou's.

He had a feeling whatever they were thinking had nothing to do with the stupid topic.

A large grin plastered itself across the God of Blades as he took a good step away from the woman. Noticeably, in his attempt to be discreet which was failing horrendously, his hands were behind his back. "Thank you Shiroko-chan, I find your words a remedy. And now that I have that piece of information, I shall be off to share this with my brothers! Fare thee well!"

Before Shirou could so much as blink, the God of Blades was out the door. The speed of his movement caused the golden shroud to bellow behind him and for Shiroko's skirt to flutter. Her brows came together at the feeling against her skin. And when Shirou turned his head back to question her further, he found her patting at her waistline looking for something.

"Did… Did he steal something?" he asked.

Her brows came even closer until a deep scowl crossed. She shut her eyes as her cheeks turned deep red. "He… stole… my panties."

If Blue Blood was angry before, it was pissed off now. He could feel the Archdemon within rage on, its feelings printing over his own. It was crying to him for the sake of righteous justice.

"H-How?!" was all Shirou could ask as he began to pace towards the door.

Following close behind, but with her hands pressed against both sides of her skirt, Shiroko answered in a troubled tone. "Never underestimate the potential of a pervert, Keeper of Souls. The greatest of thieves sometimes lack their skills when the treasure they are after is not present. I need you to find him for me and bring them back with all haste. In this dress I'll not be able to follow. I can sense him still. He's heading towards the direction of the school."

"Don't worry," Shirou assured as he strapped Blue Blood to his back. "I'll find him. I can't let him get away with this. I'll drag him back here and make him beg for your forgiveness!"

"Oh. I've a feeling he'll be there hiding doing… grotesque things with my underwear. He'll probably be doing that for hours."

"That sick son of a…!"

With that, he channeled the power of the souls and went off towards Homurahara Academy.

*Scene*

"The idiot didn't even know I was still here," Shiro, the God of Blades, landed beside his counterpart from the rooftops of the Tohsaka manor. "But I don't think it was his fault… Still, can't have him here when Rin gets back."

"Innate prana distortion," Shiroko let her hands rest to her side as she dropped the act. Ever since she and her counterpart exchanged a silent conversation, they had come up with a method to make sure the Demon Slayer wouldn't be a problem. "Not necessarily Mental Pollution, but whatever remains inside him is influencing his emotions. His influx of Od is erratic. I'm surprised his Circuits haven't crossed."

"Did you see his swords, though?" Shiro asked the rhetorical question, still receiving a roll of her eyes even when they both knew she had indeed used her Structural Analysis on them. "Never mind the twin blades. That… Sword of the Blue Bloods has the same thing that's inside of him. I could barely get its name; but its method of production and materials are completely unknown. And whatever's inside it is a lot more potent than what is in his body. Toxic, almost."

"Because it is toxic," Shiroko grimaced. "However, I'm perplexed by how he's not affected by it. There was no sign of magic poisoning or brain decay. Rather, it seems to reinforce him. It was clear he was hiding something from us when he was telling us about that… Boletaria. I'm curious to know what these other sources of prana are."

"Soul-based magic, titled as Keeper of Souls and a Demon Slayer? I'm sure you came to the same conclusion as I have. Oh, before I forget…" Shiro reached into his pocket… and pulled out a pair of silky white panties.

Shiroko lost color in her face. Immediately her hands returned to the waistline on her clothes. What was once something she pretended to check turned into something for real. Running her fingers around her hips and the space between her thighs, her face suddenly flashed red. No longer was this faked like what she had done to convince the Demon Slayer to leave.

Without another word, she swiped her stolen underwear from the schoolboy's grip. Her eyes glared daggers at him and silently asked how he had done it.

"Never underestimate the potential of a pervert," Shiro gave a sly smile as he used her own words against her. "Pretend? Ha! You can't fool your enemies unless you can fool yourself. And might I say, I'm a little shocked. You totally have a fit body, some strong abs, tender thighs, yet you have a cute squishy bu—"

Elbow to the face, Shiroko broke his nose.

"Worth it," Shiro gasped as he tried to stop the bleeding.

"If that is all, I've matters to attend to." Shiroko turned away steadily, making sure her skirt did not flutter to reveal anything. She will have to put back on her underwear when she was alone. "Please don't follow me."

"Off to check why there's one sick Bounded Field around the entire city, Fourth?"

She stopped dead in her tracks. She turned, her eyes glowing with power as they sharpened with killing intent.

Shiro stood with his arms crossed, all hilarity gone from him. He returned the gaze with a look of steel just as sharp. "Please. The Clocktower entitles you as an Archmagus and then grants you the rank of Yellow just so you leave them alone? The Association isn't so forgiving. Archmagus or not, you'd need something world-changing to get them off your back. Plus the Church and the Dead Apostles? Even with my current power I doubt I could pull that off. As soon as you said you developed Tracing that can cut 'wrong', it wasn't so hard to put things together.

"Only real monsters could do that. And the only ones in this world are the Magicians themselves."

Shiroko said nothing. Her lips thinned out into a slight frown. Prana swirled around her in a light gale as the surface around her shimmered. At her command, any blade of her choosing would skewer this man.

Shiro pointed up to the sky as he looked to the stars. "But enough about that. This Bounded Field, however? This wasn't here during my War. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't here during yours. So here's my proposal," he began as he looked at her. "This clearly isn't a normal War if you, me, and the meat-head just now are here together. Add in this ridiculously immense Bounded Field, I have to say there's more to play here.

"I'm going to go look around the city and will mark down everything I see that's different in this world. Since I'm sure you're a better magus than I am, Yellow-san, please look into the Bounded Field itself. Learn what its purpose is. At midday, find me at the shopping district across the bridge. I'll fetch our friend from the school if he's dumb enough to stay there. We can compare notes then and get to the bottom of this."

She said nothing at first. Gradually, her power dwindled until the glow of her eyes faded. She blinked, and then sighed. "It was always my intention to observe this… prison. But very well. It would do good to have an assistant. Half the work and all that, plus a second opinion. But please, no more foolishness."

Nothing more to say, she Reinforced her limbs and leapt away towards the closest edge of the city.

Meanwhile, Shiro pulled out the other article he had stolen from his female counterpart. A rather dry and plain white bra. He mused it was a modest C-cup, definitely nowhere near as big as some of the other girls on his har— team— screw it, he was in another world so he had some liberties without fearing the wrath of his harem. Still, Shiroko sure as hell was one hot babe.

"I wonder how long it will take for her to realize this…"

*Scene*

"Boy! I need you in the west corridor!"

"Yes sir!" the Primal Slayer of Demons saluted after adjusting his construction helmet. Hefting another large sheet of glass by himself, he ran off towards where the boss was pointing at.

The sun had risen a few hours ago when the first wave of construction workers arrived at the school. By the time the full team had arrived to begin work on repairing the broken windows, Shirou had appeared before them and offered some help. He had no idea what happened to have the school in such a state. All he knew was he was available and it looked like they needed as much help as they could get. It also hurt his heart a small bit to see his school like this.

Shirou had arrived in less than twenty minutes in pursuing his perverse counterpart. As instructed by Shiroko, he searched several hours into the night looking for where the schoolboy had hid himself. All he could find were what remained of an intense battle. The windows were blown out, trees were tipped over, desks and chairs scattered, and there was a large hole by the archery range. Upon further investigation, he found a large crater closed off by police tape in the middle of the surrounding forest. It didn't take an idiot to figure out most of the damages around the area originated from that spot.

Still, he had more important things to deal with. Such as the returning of Shiroko's undergarments from that foul thief. And so, Shirou continued his search until the sun rose, and by then had volunteered himself for construction duty.

Naturally he couldn't work with his Boletarian equipment. He had to dismiss them inside that strange subspace only he had access to. He kept his black undershirt, trousers, and boots, while maintaining the gauntlets so he could deal with the more strenuous part of his work. No one really asked where he came from. The boss had given him only one strange look before shrugging and then sending him around all over the place. He also didn't understand why there needed to be three layers of glass for one window. Then again, he knew next to nothing about this so he just went along with it.

"Alright kid, that's enough," the boss came up to him as soon as he returned for another set of glass. "You've been here all morning. Go take a break or something."

"Don't worry, I can keep working," Shirou clapped his hands to remove what little dirt and dust he had on them. He gave a reassuring smile.

Though, yes, he was quite tired. He had been up all night looking for the schoolboy with an already exhausted body. The Demons were becoming restless. Nothing a good night's rest couldn't fix. Plus, he was getting kinda hungry.

The older man was able to see through his smile. A grizzly grunt slipped through his lips. "I don't care if you're fit as a fiddle. It's been four hours. Go."

The reassuring smile faltered into a nervous one. With the look the man was giving him, he had to think twice about arguing any further. He supposed he could continue looking for the other Shirou. He had to be here somewhere. Where else could he be hiding? Ah! He didn't check the track field. He must be within that general area. If not on the field then in the supply shed.

One would think why he hadn't figured it out at this point, eh?

Twenty minutes later, after checking the majority of the field as well as its audience stands, the last place he had to check was the shed that kept all of the equipment. Surely his target had to be here, right? Where else could he possibly be doing… unspeakable things with their female-self's underwear?

He heard voices coming from within the shed. They were muffled by the concrete walls and the closed door, but he could make out at least two different people. One of them he knew was familiar but he couldn't tell who the second was. The scent of magic leaked out from the cracks. Regardless, process of elimination told him the God of Blades was in this container and the voices were evidence enough.

Calling Blue Blood from the subspace inventory, Shirou prepared to ambush whoever was inside.

He kicked the door open and charged, Blue Blood raised more so to intimidate than to defend or assault. His only intention was to punish the schoolboy and teach him a lesson about respect, not to maim him. However, his actions were for not as he found out neither of the two individuals inside were his intended target.

"E-Emiya?" the blue-haired Matou Shinji spun around on his heels as soon as he heard the door slam open. His eyes widened for a moment as he saw the blade, but then his cool quickly returned once he identified its wielder. "What do you think you're doing here, scaring me like that? And what the hell are you wearing— shit it stinks worse than the lockers."

Shirou's jaw went slack as he tried to figure out what was going on. From last he remembered, Shinji was killed by Illya and Berserker when he ran away on that rooftop as soon as Rider was defeated. But here he was in all his obnoxious glory.

And then there was the second individual standing in Shinji's shadow. His eyes went over to the tall woman in the blindfold. He could never forget someone like her. The pungent stench of blood and reptilian oil lingered around her. She was the Rider, Servant of Shinji's. Saber had killed her with the radiant blast from Excalibur on the same night Shinji was killed. But, like her Master, she was alive and returning the gaze despite the metal plating concealing her eyes.

Her hand was to the wall on the far back of the shed. Shirou could see the faint traces of something drawn with blood before vanishing— becoming invisible. His nose could still pick up the scent of its foul magic.

There was also the cold in the air. A cold Shirou had gotten so attuned with from his journey through Boletaria. It was a sensation consisting of the lack of life. Instantly, his eyes looked past the two until he saw a pair of shriveled legs barely hidden behind some equipment.

His eyes returned to Shinji's, a cold fury making his brows narrow.

"E-Emiya," Shinji couldn't help but flinch at the look for the coward that he was. He tried to put up a charming smile but found it fruitless. "W-What's gotten into you, man?"

"I don't know what's going on," Shirou began as he lowered Blue Blood down to his side. He was not lowering his guard, but rather adjusting the angle of the blade for assault. "I don't know why you and Rider are still alive."

Shinji blinked. Rider gave no physical indication she had reacted to his words, but there was something that had clicked. She had his full attention.

He went on without missing a beat, his anger rising as the Demons within began to stir. "But I do know what you were about to do. And you were having Rider feed off of other people to give her the strength to do it. Shinji, do you have any idea what you've done? Do you realize you killed innocent people for the sake of potentially harming an entire school full of them?!"

Shinji was beginning to sweat as the sunlight within the shed began to dim, giving the Slayer of Demons a silhouette of a vengeful spirit with glowing yellow eyes. A miasma of not just killing intent thickened the air, but a poison of negativity made him choke on his words. Rage, hatred, vengeance, spite, wrath, malice, malevolence…

Evil. Evil was radiating from Shirou, darkening the world.

It made Shinji piss his pants and squeal like a pig.

"I'll not let you live, Shinji," he hissed with such venom as Blue Blood twitched in his grip. It did not welcome death, but it was welcoming the act of spilling blood for the sake of justice. "I don't want to, but for the sake you've killed and the many others you would have, I have to stop you. Friend or not."

Reinforcing his body, Shirou kicked off the ground to cross the distance in an instant. Shinji screamed and dove away.

The swing of the Blue Blood was deflected by a large nail with spiked guards attached to a long chain, the weapon of choice belonging to Rider. Naturally, she wouldn't stand by as her Master was in danger. The demonic miasma may have disturbed her, but it did not hinder her physical prowess in the slightest. She was as fast as he remembered.

Only, things were different now. Before the best he could do was stop her from killing him until he had to use a Command Seal to summon Saber. Now, though she was still so inhumanly fast she was a great blur, he could follow her movements enough that he wasn't helpless.

"R-Rider, kill him!" Shinji cried out in anger and desperation as he scurried away towards the door.

The Hero and Mixed Demons souls empowered him at his command. They boosted his strength and agility enough to turn the tides immediately. As Rider flung one of her nail-daggers his way, his Reinforced senses was able to follow its movements. He spun out of its way, caught it with his spare hand, and tugged with every bit of his strength.

Rider, caught completely off-guard by his monstrous strength, was pulled off her feet towards his direction. Before she could recover, his gauntleted fist slammed against the underside of her jaw, sending her reeling back.

Shinji gave a startled squeak of surprise, his eyes going wide. As a person driven to survive this long in the Matou manor through cowardice, he turned and ran with all his might.

"SHINJIIIIIIII!" roared the Demon Slayer. His arm whiplashed around as he sent Blue Blood hurling after his former friend. The sword even curved impossibly as Shinji took a chance to look behind him and try to dodge the weapon.

He screamed when the blade carved into his side and dug itself into the concrete pathway. It was not a lethal blow, but it was deep enough to where he will die of blood loss if not treated as soon as possible. Shinji gripped his side in fear, panic, and in his pathetic attempt to stop the bleeding. Tears fell down his face as he got up to his feet and continued to flee. Only the pain was hindering his movements. He could only speed-walk.

Shirou spun back around when his instincts were screaming at him of impending danger. With the back of his hand, he was able to deflect one of the daggers. One. The second one coming at him was able to stab into his shoulder. Rider tugged to snare him into her next combo attack, but the Keeper of Souls kept his feet planted onto the ground and personally tore the weapon out. A thick hole far greater than the diameter of the nail remained in his flesh, leaking out much blood.

Before Rider could launch more attacks, Shirou called upon his armory within the subspace. The Monk's Cowl, Dark Silver set, and twin blades of Demon's and Soul's Brandt appeared in the same placement they were since the night before. With the black Soulbrandt, Shirou deflected another combo attack of Rider's daggers. His instincts as well as the guidance from his Demons had him avoiding the chains that were trying to trap him.

He didn't have time for this. Deflecting another series of launches, Shirou kicked off the ground backwards, launching himself out of the shed without taking his eyes off of Rider. Matching his speed, the purple-haired Servant followed closely behind. She threw her daggers after him, this time sending one directly at him while sending the one at a far arch around.

He ducked the first rather than trying to deflect it, while placing the white Demonbrandt behind him to blindly deflect the dagger coming back around at his flank. But it wasn't over.

This time, Rider charged in to meet him head-on. The chains spun around her like whips. She spun to bring her foot around in a strong kick to his temple. Except he had been able to deflect it with Soulbrandt. He scowled as the black blade could not carve into her. Was it because he was using an evil weapon against a wicked opponent? Or was it because Rider's Endurance was high enough?

He didn't get the chance to think about this any further.

The chains circling around her tugged. One nail-dagger sprang out like a snake. He was forced to roll to the side. But as he was barely halfway cycling, Rider spun to bring her leg down in a vertical strike. He barely had enough of a chance to bring both arms up to defend himself. Her attack landed on the cross-guard of Soul and Demon Brandt, but the force had him gritting his teeth. Reinforcement and Demon enhancements or not, her kick still had one hell of a… kick.

…Probably not the best time to throw in a pun here.

When Shirou was able to bounce her back off him, another dagger came at him from his left flank. He sprung back in a backhand-spring, jumping to his feet in the process. Without a chance to gather his optic senses, Rider was already upon him to bring another powerful kick his way.

If he didn't have the Demons supporting him, guiding him, and possibly manipulating his movements, he would have lost his head.

He ducked, his senses already screaming at him in warning. Another dagger would come at him as Rider used the spin to tug at her rotating chains. All she was accomplishing was delaying time for her Master to escape. But he wouldn't have that. Rather than try to play this game any further, he listened to the wordless whispering of his Demons' 'recommendation'.

He charged forward, letting a dagger graze off the protections of the Dark Silver armor, and tackled Rider to the ground. She had not been expecting it, but her own instinct was just as sharp as his and was already trying to fight him off.

She put her legs around his waist in a vice-grip and twisted her body to throw him off. Except he slammed both his blades to the ground to use as pillars while using his own strength to follow along. Alas, it meant his weapons were now out of his reach. Her rotation was twice as fast and against her control, forcing her to spin more than she liked which left Shirou back in charge.

He used their united velocity to bring his fist down to her face. Hard. When their bodies hit the ground, her head was sandwiched between his armored fist and the concrete ground. The force split the pathway into large spider web cracks. Her body twitched as the grip around her legs loosened, but not enough to let him go.

"Trace, on!"

That is, until his fists were covered in thick weapon-gauntlets with blunt edges the size of his head. The Hands of God were weapons crafted by the blacksmiths Ed and Bodwin, a matching pair of fist-type weapons forged of dragon bones, enchanted with dwarven magic, and coated with molten steel-gold found only in the volcano of Stonefang.

Shirou whipped his arm back around in a full rotation to gather as much momentum as possible. He brought his fist down while turning his body to press as much force into the blow as he could.

The magic inside the right Hand of God did the rest.

Concrete shattered and blew up dust and debris everywhere. A satisfying crunch was heard as Rider's legs spasm'd, releasing their hold on him. He did not bother to check to see if she was dead. She was just a Servant. If he could kill Shinji then she will fade away in time.

He bolted, following the trail of blood into the forest. He didn't have time to pick up the three blades discarded by the battle. Shinji didn't get very far. His squeals of pain were heard.

"SHINJI!" Shirou shouted as soon as he spotted the blue-haired brat in the distance. Said brat stumbled and tried to crawl back onto his feet. Shirou did not slow down and would be upon him in a matter of seconds.

Every Demon inside told him to stop. He growled in frustration but listened. They had never betrayed him before (except when he had to first kill them). It was just when he trotted to a stop did his natural instincts kick in. He felt the presence of another.

"Heh, it's a good thing the little missy told me to stay away from her this morning," a charming yet snarky voice, much like Shinji's, echoed throughout the forest. Shirou couldn't pinpoint its location just yet. "Looks like the kid's in a bit of trouble. Well doesn't that suck? Guess I should step in before he gets himself killed."

Shirou's eyes looked around the area. He kept the Hands of God raised in the chance the speaker would come at him at any moment. But no matter where he looked, he could not see anything. He didn't even recognize the voice. Was it a Servant he had not met in the War? He had not learned of the identity of the Caster. But if this was Caster, then why didn't he help Shinji whenever he was in danger like now? Why now would he intercept?

"S-Shut up!" Shinji groaned and cried at the same time. "Just hurry up and kill him, Lancer!"

…Lancer? Yeah, Shirou had only met the blue Servant once. But he could never forget what the Servant who had killed him sounded like. This and that were two completely different people.

"…It's not wise for you to boss me around, little shit," the hidden Servant snarled in a similar fashion Shinji would have. "I'll save you, but only because it'll be too much of a burden should the snake be bound by our real Master."

Shirou felt it then. The attention of the Servant moved from Shinji to him. That shift sent his senses haywire. An amount of killing intent spiked, far more potent than any Demon and almost as deadly as the Archdemons. It was coming from…

Up.

His body was moving before his mind could comprehend. His instincts and battle experience, as well as the guidance from the Demons, had him moving to the side with the left Hand of God up to intercept the large hook coming at him. It had come at him at such a strange angle that only his heightened instincts kept him alive. It had scraped against his fist and slid down his armor, kicking up sparks as the opposing weapon was unable to pierce through due to the angle.

A blur of black, white, and gold came at him from his right side. Again, he put up his fist to deflect another abnormal attack. His mind was telling him the attacks were coming head-on, but his instincts were telling him otherwise. And it was best he listened to his instincts as it saved him every time back in Boletaria. Because the blade was not coming head-on like he had thought. It was suddenly changing trajectory as though ricocheting off of a wall of air to get him by surprise. And though he defended himself, he could not capture a glimpse of the perpetrator before the Servant flickered away faster than Shirou could retaliate.

The Servant was definitely faster than Shirou. Not as quick as Rider, but certainly around her level. It was only from the power of the Demons that kept him alive. A power that was starting to dwindle.

Suddenly, something was targeting his back while he was preparing a defense from his front. He dove, cartwheeling with one hand, and returned to his feet faster than a roll would have provided. In the nick of time, he had been able to dodge that blindly fast hook blade and a nail-dagger simultaneously.

Rider had caught up.

Shirou snarled in frustration as he stood in a battle stance, the memories and experience of both Ed and Bodwin expressed through the Tracing of both Hands of God. He was sweating and his breathing was beginning to harden. The weight of his armor was starting to ache.

"So she's not as useless as I thought," Lancer clicked his tongue. He did not press his attack, however.

Shirou took the chance to glimpse upwards. Standing— standing!— on the open air was not the Servant Lancer he knew. This one was donned in a black and gold leather chest-guard, matching leather bracers, a white kilt, and knitted leather sandals that ran up to his knees. There were white essences burning at his heels in a manner that made them look like burning wings. In his right hand was a long polearm just as tall as he was with a large bladed hook at the tip. On his back was a large brass mirror.

He had the same face and hair as Shinji. He had the same obnoxious look, the same snarl, and the same way the Matou would have creased his brows over something that disgusted him. Though the hairstyle was combed in the exact same manner, the only difference would be the color. His was a dark-gold.

Shirou's Reality Marble ate up the information of the staff in his hands. An exact copy was imprinted into the grassy terrain that was Unlimited Blade Works. Harpe, the severing sword given to Perseus in order to fulfill his task of slaying the monster Medusa. Any wound inflicted by this blade can never heal, ensuring the snake deity would remain forever dead.

Harpe. A brass mirror. Sandals with burning wings.

Shit. This wasn't the blue Lancer he knew. This Lancer was Perseus, demi-god and son of Zeus.

"What the hell are you waiting for?!" Shinji yelled as he was stupid enough to stick around. "Kill him already!"

Lancer, Perseus, groaned and scratched his head with the tip of Harpe. "For gods' sake! If I didn't like the girl, I'd kill you instead. So shut your mouth before I change my mind!"

"Lancer," Rider spoke up for the first time. "Do not underestimate this one. He can match a Servant."

"So I noticed," Lancer frowned. "But it doesn't matter. Just stay out of my way. I don't need your help. Go and get the little shit playing master out of here. I don't trust you, anyways."

Shirou grimaced. Had he known something like this was going to happen, he would have spent that extra second at least grabbing Blue Blood. He couldn't Trace copies of his blades. Their materials were too… foreign.

But he did have something else in his arsenal to even the odds.

"I am the bone of my sword."

His speed just doubled as a new weapon formed in his hands, the Hands of God dissolved into golden dust at his dismissal. He fired off the ground like a rocket, blowing dirt and leaves everywhere and catching both Servants unawares. However, neither of them was his target.

"EEEeeeekkk!" Shinji screamed like a little girl as he only had a second to piece together what was happening.

In Shirou's hands was the Penetrating Sword of Boletaria's champion, the Knight Metas. It was a straight-sword in name only. The blade was longer than Shirou was tall, as it was fit to be used by an eight-foot-tall Archdemon. Regardless, it was designed to be used as both a claymore and a rapier, forged out of ancient geisteel of the lost civilization of Mirrah. Metas, having carried the knowledge of his ancient people, was well trained in the dueling arts while incorporating the Boletarian practice into his swordplay. The end result had given him a powerful soul— powerful enough to be the only one of the three champions to be transformed into an Archdemon.

Though Shirou did not possess the Silver Demon's soul, through the Penetrating Blade he carried all of Metas' wisdom, experience, knowledge, and, above all else, his inhuman power.

Shirou was upon Shinji before the punk could put up his arms in helpless defense. He went in for the lunge.

However, no plan survives the enemy.

While Shirou was twice as fast as before because of the blade's enhancement, Perseus was still much faster. The Servant of the Spear had been able to travel the distance in the blink of an eye and swat away the narrow blade before it could strike Shinji. Before Shirou could regain his balance, Lancer twirled his spear around and smacked him across the jaw with the butt. Only his Reinforcement kept his jaw from breaking, though he lost a tooth from the hit and spat blood.

Lancer was upon him not before long. He kicked off his 'ground' of air to launch himself at Shirou. The Keeper of Souls followed the flow his body was already guiding him into and parried another abstract attack of the spearman. He also had to suddenly dodge when Lancer pulled the mirror off his back and tried to shield-strike him.

The two series of daggers coming at him didn't help either.

Shirou grunted as he surrendered the Mixed Demons' soul and replaced it with the Iron Demon's soul, keeping the Hero's soul for its stat increase in his strength. His armor and shroud shimmered in an eerie glow as the newly channeled Demon enhanced the durability of his defenses, including enhancing the defensive properties of his Reinforcement such as the toughness of his skin and bones. As a slight added bonus, the Demon also sharpened the edge of the Penetrator.

But for an increase of endurance and defense, Shirou had given up some of his speed. Though he had the assistance of the Penetrator, he no longer had that heightened speed to keep up with Perseus. Perhaps if Perseus was alone then things would be different. However, Rider was assisting him. Together, they were bombarding him, pushing his already fatigued body.

Shirou had to continuously dodge Rider's flying daggers and ensnaring chains. He also had to keep track of them else be caught in her trap as the chains were now surrounding them all across the forest like a giant net. And Perseus was sending his own assaults with Harpe. While Shirou could parry them with the Penetrator, he could not deliver any sort of counter as Lancer kept up his shield at all times. Lancer had the skill to back up his arrogance. He knew how to use his shield and knew it was one of the greater weaknesses against a rapier-class weapon like the Penetrator.

Shinji continued to stick around. Laughing, mocking Shirou while using the actions of the Servants to boost his ego. He seemed to have forgotten he was suffering from a bad wound.

Worse, Shirou's body was starting to tire to the point where channeling the Demons was hurting more than helping. His Od was dangerously low. He doubted that even if he decided to retreat Lancer would let him live. The Greek Hero was faster and could catch up to him even at his peak.

He ground his teeth as Harpe cut into his face for the third time. His reactions were slowing down. He wasn't going to last long.

The strong scent of Steel cut through the air.

"Trace. On."

Rider turned her head, gasped, and leapt away. Lancer looked over his shoulder; eyes widened, he tucked himself into a crouch while lifting his mirror-shield up to cover as much of his body as he could.

Swords were fired off from across the clearing in multitudes. Shirou should have put up his arms, but his instincts weren't telling him anything. As several dozen blades stabbed into trees, the ground, or bounced off of Lancer's shield, not one had been aimed at Shirou. They either passed by or were fired off too wide away.

Shinji had screamed, again. He had fallen on his rear as a few swords dug into the tree he was hiding behind. Though he had narrowly escaped with his life, he did get nicked on his face and arm.

"My body is made of blades…"

A single projectile fired off in a different angle from the previous swords' origin. This one was far faster than the others, so much so that Shirou couldn't see it clearly enough to get a reading on it. Perseus scowled and was about to dodge when…

"Square Accel."

…the projectile jumped speeds mid-flight.

Lancer didn't get the chance to dodge. His eyes widened in surprise. But his experience kicked in as his arm brought the shield around to block the impending attack. He barely made it in time as the projectile was inches away and closing in.

"Aaaaarrrrggghhhh!"

Lancer snarled in pain as his shield was rendered useless. The projectile, a blade Altered from what Shirou could tell, had phased through the brass mirror and struck into his abdomen. His face contorted in both rage and pain as he ripped the blade out of his ribs before tossing it aside. Blood gushed everywhere. Normally such a wound would have greatly crippled anyone else and more than likely kill them, yet Lancer had treated it like it was but a minor flesh wound.

Now from a new direction, more hail of swords came in alarming quantities.

Perseus clicked his tongue in annoyance and leapt up high above the trees.

"Improbable Aiming Skills!"

His eyes widened as the swords coming at his original position had shifted. Rather, it was more like they were always aimed at where he was going to arrive at. As he gathered altitude from his winged heels, the projectile swords were coming to capture him. Even as he suddenly stopped his advance, they were already locked on his position without having to physically alter their trajectory. It was as though no matter what choice he made they were going to hit him.

The brass mirror was up and able to block many of the blades. However, by their sheer amount, many cut into his exposed legs and arms. One even clipped at his heel. He couldn't help but fall back down to the dirt.

Shirou panted as he chanced himself to look around. He had to blink to make sure he wasn't just seeing things. Two pairs were coming to his location from two separate locations; one from the east and the other from the north. The first pair was… well, him. The one on the right was an exact replica of him in a plain sweatshirt and jeans. The other, however, was dressed in a long coat, fingerless gloves, and sunglasses. His hair had traces of white streaks in odd places.

The second pair had only one… him, for lack of a better word. It was a spitting image of Shirou even down to the clothes. Granted, this one's tunic and leggings were blue while his armor was ready to fall apart. The blue cape was a nice touch… if it wasn't so tattered.

The last of the group was…

"Archer?!" Shirou lifted Penetrator as he forced himself to gather strength. But as he took a second look, there was something… off about Archer. His skin was gray, not tan. And he didn't have the hair the same way as he did. Last, he wasn't wearing his fashion-less red two-piece cloak. This Archer was wearing a black overcoat with a red shirt/hood combo. To top it all off he appeared to be at least a full decade younger than the last time Shirou had encountered the Servant.

As soon as they all gathered, the two groups looked at another in some mild confusion before nodding. Immediately after, every other Shirou was examining him. The look on their faces said they had questions (just as much as he did), but they all pushed it aside as they stood united.

Perseus snarled as he finally stood. His lips parted until his teeth showed. His eyes flashed between each newcomer and back again. "Monster, get the brat out of here already."

"Don't let them get away!" Shirou shouted as he also charged forward with Penetrator raised. Lancer was in his way to smack him back with the brunt of his shield.

Rider appeared beside her Master. In one swift motion, she wrapped her arm around his waist (with him ranting in pain) and took off away from the group.

"Distract him!" cried Archer(?) as he went to pursue them.

Perseus was about to run into him, when the Shirou in the sweatshirt appeared before him at impossible speeds. He deflected Lancer's Harpe with a Traced straight-sword with divine properties. The blade shimmered and began to transform as its edge was sharpened and beautiful decals etched along its spine.

"Go! I have him!" he said as he went into a series of strikes and parries to fend off Perseus.

Archer did not respond other than to take off running with great agility to catch up with the Master-Servant pair.

Lancer growled in frustration as he blocked another attack with his shield. But the force had his feet sliding back. His eyes narrowed in disgust. "Where did you get that blade, thief?!"

"From you," the reply was given with a smile. The Shirou gripped the blade with both hands and began to swing it about with such skill and finesse it shouldn't have been possible with his size and muscle-tone.

Lancer roared in rage and leapt away. The wings at his heels blazed as he quickly began to increase altitude in his attempt to flee.

"SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!" cried the Shirou in the sunglasses as he pulled out a ridiculously massive rocket launcher from his inside coat pocket. Without warning, he fired it off.

The kick was strong enough to throw him off his feet. At the same time, the rocket-propelled grenade struck at Lancer's back, having him howl in pain and stumble back down to the ground. Though it was nowhere near enough to wound the Servant, it was more than enough to knock his senses around to break his concentration.

"…Always Wanted to Say That…" the assaulter said in a croak while he laid there on his back.

The distraction was more than enough for Shirou to leap high enough to bring the Penetrator down in a vertical swing. Lancer brought his spear up to block with the shaft, and the strength of the Hero's soul had him being thrown back down to the ground hard. A small cloud of dust kicked up as he landed on his knees.

Lancer rolled away as the other Shirou with the sword had moved in to strike at him with a horizontal swing that missed decapitating him. Following his swing, Shirou brought the Penetrator around and used its ridiculous length to reach Lancer before he could recover. The spearman put up his shield but wasn't quick enough and had his face nicked with a deep gash.

His eyes widened as everyone heard the rushing of wind from his back. He spun and brought his spear up in time to parry a powerful strike of a gold and crimson sword. But his attempt was for naught. The wielder was far stronger than the Servant, had pushed the spear back, and had his blade dig deep into Lancer's shoulder.

Said wielder was another Shirou. This one was as tall as Archer with a few years older in appearance than the others. His hair was an even amount of red and white, his eyes a swirl of gold and gray, and his skin was sun-kissed. He was donned in a regal gold and crimson shroud hanging from his shoulders with traveler's clothes underneath.

In his hands, tearing into Lancer's flesh, was a crimson and gold blade that radiated such power Shirou had to look away. The Demons within were… fearful of that blade as it breathed holy power. Had Shirou known otherwise, he would have thought it was Excalibur right before Saber was about to unleash the full power of her Noble Phantasm. But there couldn't be a blade more holy and powerful than King Arthur's Excalibur.

…Right?

"Gods be damned!" Lancer hissed in pain as he brought his shield around to smack his attacker. But said Shirou brought an arm up to absorb most of the shock with him only being pushed away slightly.

He retched the sword free, drawing much blood and forcing Lancer to roar in pain.

"Where's Ash?" he asked without looking away from Lancer.

"North-west," answered the sweater Shirou as he circled around to get at Lancer's flank. "He went after Shinji and Rider."

"Swords! Help him!" the crimson Shirou barked as he engaged Lancer some more.

"On it!" the voice of another Shirou came from the distance. Shirou saw a flicker of movement in the background, but couldn't tell much further as he too was focused on subduing Lancer.

By this point, Lancer was beginning to panic. Three Shirous were upon him. One was weak and tired, but able to keep up with him. Another was his equal, if not better. That one was strong and had his skill, but lacked the experience to follow. The third, however, was the greatest threat. That one was powerful with each swing from his blade rattling his bones. Not to mention he was blindly fast.

With the three of them surrounding him, he didn't stand a chance.

"The little shit isn't worth it," he said before going the only possible route to escape. Up. The Heels of Hermes activated at his command and propelled him towards the sky. But as he towered over the trees and gazed back down at the humans that had harmed him so much, his eyes narrowed in disgust. With nothing else to say, he took off in a different direction rather than to follow Shinji and Rider. He was only interested in getting away than assisting his teammates.

Shirou gave a grunt of frustration as he dismissed Penetrator as well as his Demons. Exhausted enough to where his body was aching, he sent his armor and shroud to the inventory dimension before collapsing to his rear. His legs bent, he leaned forward with his arms resting on his knees.

"You alright?" asked the older Shirou with concern. He flicked the blood off of his blade, Escalvatine, and placed it inside a minuscule but magical sheath at his hip, Sarras.

"Just… tired…" Shirou answered as he fell onto his back and went through a few breathing exercises to calm his body. The battle wore him out, his magic was low, and he felt starving. If he wasn't hurting so much, he thought about taking a nap right here in the middle of the demolished forest.

"Guys, I have a problem," the armored Shirou, the one who hadn't done a thing, spoke up with a grave look on his face.

"What's that?" asked the one in the sweater as he dismissed his nameless Noble Phantasm of Perseus. He didn't look winded at all.

"…I can't Trace. I can't even use Structural Analysis."

There was a moment of silence as the Shirous turned their attention towards this one. Even the one with the sunglasses rose from his unconsciousness. The Shirou in ruined armor was looking at his hands as though he had never seen them before.

"I… I can't Reinforce even," he went on. "My Circuits are there and I can channel Od. I can summon my armor and Merlin's sword… but that's it. It's like there's something… blocking my abilities."

The crimson Shirou crossed his arms and grimaced. "I'm afraid that's something beyond my expertise. But that shouldn't be happening. You should head back and ask this with Rin. Maybe she can provide you with an answer."

"Y-Yeah…" the armored Shirou clenched his hands closed. His mood didn't fare well. "I hope so."

"Now then," the sweater Shirou looked around at his counterparts. "What's everyone doing here? Troper and I were heading to the furniture store after visiting this world's Shirou. We happened to come close enough to sense Servants fighting. I'm guessing you guys did as well?"

…This world's Shirou?

The crimson Shirou nodded. "Right. Swords and I had finished the cleanup a while after you left. Suzuki-san mentioned to Rin that she was low on food stock so she had us go on a grocery run. We were on our way to the market when we felt the spike in prana."

"Same here," said the armored Shirou as he lifted his head. "Ash-san and I were making a detour to the hospital when we noticed the fighting. He said he saw him—" he pointed at Shirou, "—fighting both Rider and the other Servant alone and said we needed to help."

Troper? Swords? Ash? What kind of names were those?

Shirou sat up and turned his head to look at each of his other selves. He blinked before asking, "Thank you all for saving me back there; but can I ask what's going on? Who are you people? Did you also come from hearing Rin's plea for help? Or did you arrive here at a different time?"

Looks were exchanged from everyone.

The one with the sunglasses was the one to answer, switching out his shades for a pair of prescription lenses, "We are all half-assed Servants of Rin, being dragged from all corners of the omniverse to participate in this Cluster Fuck of a Grail War. We were summoned two days ago along with Archer, the only actual Servant of our group, so I can only assume you were summoned another time when all of us weren't looking. Since you've been out of our Sewing Circle meetings, you're out of the loop a bit. So you know, I'm another Emiya Shirou. But you can call me Troper."

That was the cue for the others to introduce themselves.

"I am Apeiron Lepida Leitoyrgei, King of the Forsaken," the crimson Shirou announced with a slight bow. "You can call me Apeiron."

"Eighth Campione and King of Steel, but I'm called Steel," the one in the sweater said.

"Um…" the armored Shirou scratched his head. "Sir Emiya of the Round Table. I don't have a title like the others. So I guess you can just call me Sir Shirou or something like that."

"And you can call me Swords," said another voice as the sound of crunching leafs and twigs came closer. He too was as tall as Archer and donned in clothes similar to the red Servant, though his cloak was in tatters and dyed blue. On his back was a long sword tucked into a metal sheath about half his size. Still, he was a little older than the others and had features similar to the Apeiron chap. "But I'm the Servant of Louise de la Vallière, her Gandalfr, before I am Rin's. I'm also known as the King of Swords… among a few other things."

On his shoulders was a stiff figure of the questionable Archer. The King of Swords placed the equally tall man down onto his feet as though he were a statue. Said Servant was almost as still as one. The only indication he wasn't frozen was his movements. Rather, he was moving at a snail's pace. His head was turning towards the group's direction while giving the longest blink known to mankind. It would take him probably five minutes just to finish his blink.

"What happened to him?" Shirou asked.

"Don't know," shrugged the King of Swords. "When I arrived he was like this. Rider and Shinji were already long-gone."

"It looks like his perception of time is… obscured," Apeiron rubbed the underside of his jaw. "Do you think it has something to do with his time thaumaturgy?"

"I thought that the feedback of using the Time Alter mystery like dad broke down his body." Steel frowned in confusion.

"Who's to say that he wasn't applying the crest in a different way?" Aperion shrugged. "Father wasn't exactly known for being an ideal magus after all, and Ash does seem to have a more complete comprehension on magecraft in general than the rest of us. Regardless, we can always find out from him later."

"Probably. But we won't know until he snaps out of this."

"If he snaps out of it," countered Troper.

"If…" the King of Swords rubbed his chin much like how Apeiron was as he eyed the Archer look alike. "If is good."

Apeiron spoke up for Shirou, "And that would happen to be another one of us. He is the Tenth Dead Apostle Ancestor, titled the Ash of Miracles. He's also recognized as the Second Magus Killer by the Clock Tower. But we just call him Ash."

Halfway through his blink, the Ash of Miracles was beginning to scowl. His lips were also beginning to part as though about to prepare to speak.

"…So he's not Archer?" asked Shirou.

"Archer is back at Rin's place," answered Troper. "He's another Emiya Shirou… just more of an asshole in general."

Not wanting to be rude, Shirou stood up and gave his own introduction. "Um… I still can't say I know what's going on. But as I told the others, I'm known by a few things. But the thing people called me the most was Keeper of Souls."

"Would you prefer Keeper or Souls as your addressed name?" questioned Troper.

However, the King of Steel's brows came together as he caught what the Demon Slayer had said. "Others? What others? Do you mean you weren't alone when you were brought here?"

"And how did you come in battle with those Servants?" questioned the King of Swords.

"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU…" the Ash of Miracles began as his curse was slowed much like his body. Apparently enough time had passed since his affliction kicked in for his reaction to finally come through.

"Huh." Troper tilted his head in curiosity. "I do believe that's the first time I've seen or heard of a DAA dropping an Atomic F-Bomb."

Apeiron put up a hand. "I think it would be best if we all went home and brought this up with Rin. It's not wise to just stand here talking about this. And I'm sure our new friend here could use a rest."

Looks were exchanged once more and nods were given.

"UUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccccccc…" went on the Dead Apostle.

"I would appreciate it," agreed the Keeper of Souls. "If you don't mind waiting right here, I'll be right back. During the fight I had dropped some of my weapons. I need to go get them."

"By all means," Apeiron waved as he gave a fatherly smile.

"Thank you," Shirou bowed before turning and moved at a slow pace back to the track field. He had to retrieve Blue Blood, Soulbrandt, and Demonbrandt. Sure he could stick them inside his inventory and pull them back out whenever he needed them, but that still required him to directly touch them. At the least he didn't have to worry about anyone taking them. Soul and Demon Brands had marked him as their rightful owner. And the Archdemon inside Blue Blood would never allow anyone other than Shirou to wield it.

As the adrenaline of battle was starting to wear down, he finally felt fatigue hit him. His steps were becoming heavy. The world was beginning to spin. The trees were growing in multitudes. The world was becoming hazy as a sense of nausea swept through his brain. He took one step and stumbled. He took another and found his other foot could not be lifted. With the darkness growing around his vision, he lost his focus.

Truly, he never made it past ten feet from the group as he fell like a rock. His face splashing into a pile of mud. The last thing he heard was the sound of treading coming towards him. As consciousness faded, he really hoped someone could retrieve his blades.

"cccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" finished the vampire in the distance.

---

As the reel comes to a stop and the lights flicker on, there was no sign of the hostess. A moment drawled out as the sound of a toilet flushing was heard in the silent auditorium. A door was slammed in the distant as a clatter of feet was coming closer...

The goddess approaches...

Pluto: They could have told me the episode was about to end! 'Oh don't worry, you have plenty of time!' You SUCK Arry! Yeah, that's right, I'm dissing you. If you don't like it, then you can get someone else to do this stupid show!

Ahem, welcome folks! This is Underlord Supreme, the beautiful and ever immaculate goddess, Original Spirit Pluto coming to you live in Studio 69! Now that you know where I am, please call the police. I'm kept here against my will.

But until then, I might as well get on with the show... Gathered today are is a pair of author and character joining our little community! Now then, please introduce yourselves!

LD: Hi.

Pluto: ...

...

...

...Oh. That's it? Gee... thank you for making my job that much more... Well folks, allow me to introduce you our gathered interviewees. Seated in the Author's Chair is LD 1449! And at his side is one of our newest additions to our cast, the Demon Slayer, Emiya Shirou Keeper of Souls!

So LD-san, I know you're new to this bit. But what was going through your mind when Arry approached you and asked to lease Keeper-san's contract? What were you expecting in his debut?

LD: First thought that came to me was "Wow. Didn't think it was that popular" Second thought was something along the lines of "Does this mean I have to finish the story more quickly?

I didn't have any expectations really. I've never seen a fanfic like this before, dragging the various protagonists of various other fanfics together with all of their deviations and alterations so I expected very little because I simply had no basis to go on truth be told.

Pluto: Keeper-san, the next question goes to you. Now I know you're not quite done with your journey in Souls of Heroes and still have a while to go. But how do you feel about Arry's script? Meaning, what do you think about giving you some of the weapons only found in the game and not in your story? Do you think you're ready to take on some of the heavy-hitters recruited for this show?

Keeper: Its odd I mean- *Fingers the shroud*- this thing kind of tried killing us so I don't know. I'm hoping it doesn't try to strangle me in my sleep or something to be honest. As for me fighting, I think I could win, but I'd rather not fight at all if I could.

Pluto: Keeper-san again, since you haven't had the time to get acquainted with the cast just yet, I'm going to have to ask you something else. What do you think about the two you were summoned with? Funu... Futu... the God of Blades and Madam Shiroko?

Keeper: *Frowns* Blades is...not what I would expect given his name. And its...really weird finding a female version of yourself.

Pluto: I beg to differ. I find it refreshing switching to a boy every now and then. But, I suppose I could sympathize as I think about it. There's only one of me and can only be one of me. I'm afraid I'll never know.

LD-san, going back to you. It seems like your Shirou is one hell of a development. What made you decide to have a Shirou carry a few Demon Souls? Why didn't you let him have all of them? And what made you want to get into the Demons' Souls franchise to begin with?

LD: Because one mistake I find a lot of FF's tend to make is always granting the protagonist far too much power far too quickly. Power is only valuable and valued if its earned. Sure I could have given Shirou every demon Soul for himself and thought of other ways to empower Rin or cripple Saber for a time butthen there would be no struggle and no value in the Souls he has acquired. In comparison to what power he had in chapter one, his skill and ability is now *noticeable* there is a measured progress in this slow and steady pace whereas otherwise he would have simply been powerful enough to take on the archdemons after the defeat of their fourth lesser demon.

As for why I chose Demon Souls, I chose it because the Demon Souls Lore is fantastic, as is the spiritual sequel, Dark Souls and its a reservoir of material that is largely untouched and unexplored, so open to interpretation you could do virtually anything with it I wanted to be one of the first to really delve into the nuances of the universe.

Pluto: Let's see... next question. Oh. How original. LD-san, what made you want to go into writing fanfiction? I'm sure there are a lot more rewarding opportunities out there. I don't get why Arry does it instead of working on his original stories like he should. But then again, he is a lazy slob so it's understandable. But why do you?

LD: I started writing FF to practice my English. It was always bad. So I figured I needed to practice at the time there was this thing I'd always read but never written so I said why not. And from that point on, the rest is history.

I keep at it because I genuinely enjoy the hobby. I haven't written anything original because I don't believe I'm that good yet and while FF does much to teach in terms of character development, grammar and in several other of the core skills (for those willing to learn) it does little to help in teaching "Universe Building" so until I learn to tackle that by reading and studying some of the better universes that have been created out there, Dune, Hyperion, LotR even Star wars I probably won't write something original

Pluto: We haven't forgotten about you, Keeper-san... Mostly because I think you need a shower. Ahem, let's say that you never were recruited for the Throne of Shirou project. Say you beat the final boss of the game and was able to return to your world. Did you have any plans on incorporating the Soul Arts to your magecraft?

Keeper: You try finding a decent shower in the middle of a lunatic infested city and a sealed off dimensional nexus of a child-like ancient. *Grumbles* The Soul arts are my magecraft they're my swords, my shields and my armors. All of these things are born and empowered by the demons...so in a way I already am using Soul arts. Just my version of Soul arts, like I had my own version of projection magecraft.

Pluto: Another thing, what did you think about Arry turning you into such a meathead? Honestly, I read your story. Though you do questionable things, as does any canon Shirou, I feel so bad for him turning you into such a tool. Do you think you could have done things a little better if we gave you as much free rein like we do for Troper?

Keeper: I don't do that many ques... *pauses* ok. Fine. I do some stuff that's...risky but its because of the situation more than anything. I don't think I'm that bad.

LD: You charged Berserker.

That doesn't count...and that was your fault.

Pluto: To the both of you... and they better change this question next interview. This is getting rather dry. What would you say to be your crowning achievement? LD-san, this applies to your works on Fanfiction Net. And Keeper-san, this applies to your... Shirou-ness.

LD: In fanfiction, my crowning achievement is a story called Lost Soul. And I kinda hesitate to say that because the story took over five years to finish. So I was not the same person at the start of the fic, as I was to the end of the fic. A shift in style occurred between the start and finish of that story. It was gradual of course so you can't notice the sheer difference between the start and finish unless you read the start and immediately read the finish. So I can see now, that at the start of it, I did make several mistakes I wouldn't have made now, I did do some things sloppily, I did write some questionable dialogue and even though I've edited it to better reflect the late story style and quality some of my more amateurish mistakes can still be seen under the polish work.

But I mark it as my crowning achievement regardless of that, because the story was absolutely massive. A lengthy plot multiple characters, several side plots and little things all of which were weaved from start to finish to one single goal, the ending that I'd had in mind since the very start. And given the fact that I was able to do that, keep focus and keep the story straight in my head for five years and keep up the drive it took to continue the work for that long and ultimately complete it is what I truly take away from that piece. It showed me that I could indeed do this if I ever set my mind to it like I did then.

Pluto: I'm sorry, Keeper-san, but I just received a message saying you're not aloud to answer the question. Something about the agreement between LD-san and Arry about giving spoilers. Which is a little redundant because Arry practically spilled the beans at your introduction. But whatever. He signs my check...

Last but not least, this question is brought to us by... really? I mean really? Seven months and STILL sponsored by these... Ugh. Our sponsors the Department Next Door Department, 'Pair of 3's, go fish'... What a [beep] stupid slogan. If they didn't get it back in Chapter 6, they're not going to get it now. Ahem, as the two of you have taken the chance to meet another, what is your opinion about the other? And PLEASE don't go blowing shit up like our last two guests.

...Seriously? I can say shit but can't say [beep]?

LD: I like Shirou. Sure he's absurdly dense in certain things but he's a nice enough guy with plenty of potential no matter what venue that's pursued.

Keeper: He throws us through five worlds of pure hell, sicks demons onto us and has us stabbed, clubbed, concussed, burned, nearly impaled, eviscerated or otherwise mauled by angry...things. What do you think my opinion is? You better hope Rin doesn't catch you.

LD: She'll have to find me first.

Pluto: ...Oh my god. No ridiculous and disastrous conclusion this time. I have high expectations for you two as this series goes on. Anyways, there you have it folks! Another episode complete with more under productions! I don't see why Arry has to have you wait so long when we finished Season Two a few months back, but he's the producer. Feel free to start an angry mob if you want. I might even supply the grenade launchers and tanks. Oh please, pitchforks and torches are so outdated.

This is Underlord Pluto signing off!