"Ngh, get back!" A fifty year old woman angrily shouted. Her posture and voice wobbled, signs of a pending breakdown. "We're not going back into that hell!"
An older man's grip on his child, four or five years, tightened as he drew the boy closer.
It was understandable, the sea of flames had risen high enough over the city that they were casting a ghastly light into the apartment. Shadows wildly danced in the minimally furnished room.
The roof ominously creaked above their heads.
"We have to get out now." The hero hissed at the woman across from him.
The man behind her angrily pointed at the brightly colored camera sphere that was floating slightly above the dark hero's shoulder.
"You're just doing it for the ratings, then! Take us back out into that hell?! I don't think so!" He shrieked, eyes taking on a somewhat maddened glazed cast in the orange room.
"It's regulation. I can't legally operate without one of these things following me around. Just ignore it." Time Trapper sounded bitter. As if he had gone through this conversation several times before. He powered through the rest of the father's complaints, holding out his hand to forestall further conversation. "You survived this far. We have to go - now. Or everything you've done so far will be pointless."
The boy, who had been silent until now, squirmed.
"M-mama, I-I never seen him on TV before." He told his mother. He then looked up at his father, trying to impress his words on him with all the gravity a young child could.
The superhero's suit was all smooth lines and muted colors. He wasn't even showing off his face. In this world, most heroes openly revealed their identities.
"You... might be right." The woman admitted, thinking of the things inside the fire. If they had a hero with them, maybe they could survive the night.
"Good." Time Trapper began, a tone of relief in his voice. He began to move towards the two. "Then let's-"
An explosion suddenly erupted above them.
Rubble rained down on the four of them without mercy, fast enough that they didn't even have time to think. They couldn't even look up to see their death.
The child's brief scream was lost to the dust and debris.
Even if I'm not your regular hero, I'm still trying to save people!
Fate/Stay Night and its spin offs are properties of Type-Moon, Nitroplus, Image Epoch. All additional references belong to their respective companies.
Chapter One - When Even Idiots Realize Dangerous Opportunities Suck
The flames still burned upon the damaged rooftop. Amidst the bloodied corpses, a single body pushed itself up, standing awkwardly on the cement floor.
As the slightly burnt drone continued to record, fluids pulled themselves from the surroundings and into body, and its injuries faded. The torn spandex costume mended itself, recoloring from black and dark crimson to the familiar slate grey of the Time Trapper's uniform.
As he paced to the edge of the roof, his gait steadied, his supposedly critical injuries fading into nothing but memory.
Beneath his mask, the visible part of his jaw clenched in resolute anger.
A jet black tower was steadily rising from the sea of flames. Its appearance and exact dimensions were lost to a haze warping itself around the building. Even if most of its shape obscured, it looked distinctly alien.
Half formed eyeballs wildly rolled around, inset within pulsing meat sacks clinging to the side of the building. Meaty appendages served as twisted staircases, spiraled up the entire surface of the abomination. White teeth pointlessly gnawed up towards the skies, their sharp edges leaking drool down the surface of the entire edifice.
The very same flames that had been ravaging everything they touched seemed to shy away from the strange, obscene tower. At least until several sores began to bulge throughout the surface. They sizzled beneath the heat of the inferno, bursting open to unleash waves of ooze into the depths of the city.
In response, the inferno blazed even higher in those areas, almost as if it wanted to burn the material away.
Uncaring of what would happen to the people caught in the midst of it all.
Before such an overwhelming sight, the Time Trapper stepped forwards.
"I will save you, no matter what." Those would be the last words the Time Trapper would say for the rest of the night, throwing himself over the roof's edge and vanishing.
"Any thoughts?"
The earnest shuffling of shoes, and a single cough, answered Souichirou Kuzuki.
"It is probable that if widespread attitudes towards heroes among the older generations were less in the way of distrusting, more people could have been saved during the fires of Fuyuki." He began, walking in front of the screen.
A hesitant hand came up, and Kuzuki welcomed it with a nod.
"Sir, w-why would there even be any distrust?" A note of skepticism, generated by Kuzuki's somewhat roundabout way of blaming the town itself, made itself known in the voice of the student.
Which was good. He had been aiming to get some of them agitated with the way he had worded it. Anger, when properly harness, led to amazing things.
"Hmm, well... that is an issue in itself." Kuzuki began, he gestured towards the figure of the Time Trapper. "Your generation has grown up with these images. A Hero is something fairly common now, isn't it? Anyone can tune in on the television, and it's a mouse click away on the internet."
A new more people participating, if only long enough to nod.
"Eighty years ago, when this was new to Japan, there was no real way to familiarize yourself with a Hero." Kuzuki continued, stopping to adjust the cuff of his suit. "At the time, there were two kinds of Heroes. One was just another weapon that was unleashed by the United Nations. A bomb with arms and legs. When their mission was over, they'd retreat into anonymity. Another was the Vigilante, not directly under the control of any government. The sort of Hero we now see on television didn't exist in this country until the government permitted the Heroes' Association to legally operate within our borders."
Once he was done, he followed up.
"We didn't know the people who protected us." Kuzuki finished, "And people resent what they do not know."
The class was silent at that.
"Of course, things aren't quite as clear cut as I just told you. The history of these 'Vigilantes' have gone on even longer than our Heroes, but we will follow up on it once classes resume. Go finish whatever preparations will be needed for the school and get yourselves home." With a nod, he reached to the wall and switched the lights on. His students flinched as light flooded back into the class. Quite a few of his students were still looking uncomfortable after the movie had ended.
Deciding he'd use it to make a point, Kuzuki moved towards the room's large windows.
"As you all know, the anniversary of the Shinto Fire is coming up." Kuzuki began to speak, reaching for the curtains that had been covering them, and allowing the children a measure of true relief as he opened them. "A time of great death and destruction for the city."
Unlike the hell they had observed on the projector, nothing but the mundane safety of reality welcomed them. The contrast between the movie and their current peace drew all their eyes towards him.
"The total number of deaths were few and far between." Kuzuki continued, gesturing at the projector at the front of the class. "Thanks to the work of the Heroes Association, and the sacrifices of dedicated, and brave people."
Most of his students followed his gesture, glancing on the final image the projector was still displaying. On it was the frozen image of the jet black tower that had appeared in the last few hours of the great fire, stark against the bright lights that Kuzuki had brought back.
Several of the children looked incredibly ill at ease at the sight of it.
"So, take heed during the celebrations we'll be having starting tonight." Kuzuki concluded, giving his students a sweeping glance. "Learn the lessons of the past. Learn from those that came before us."
The bell finally rang, allowing the grateful students to rise from their desks and take leave of the class.
Kuzuki couldn't blame them, the tower's appearance was unnerving even in posterity.
He glanced away from the tower's image and moved to gather the materials left behind by the students. As Kuzuki walked amongst the rows of desks, he glanced outside the window. There were several stands in various states of completion down by the fields.
From what he could see, a few of the more industrious children seemed to be taking it upon themselves to dictate orders to their fellow students, trying to get things ready for the school's events tomorrow.
Unnoticed to the teacher, a passing student carrying several leaflets paused at his door. Having noticed the tower, a brief look of venomous hatred filled their eyes. The student was gone by the time that Kuzuki turned back.
"Emiya?"
Shirou snapped out of his trance, pulling a chopstick he had been fruitlessly gnawing on out of his mouth. It made a light pop, making Issei Ryuudou smirk.
"What is it, Issei?" The boy glanced over at the his friend.
As the president of the student body, Issei was used to having several students come to talk to him about their troubles. He openly encouraged it, knowing that it took a lot of courage to come forth with issues. In the end, this helped both parties, the student left feeling like their beliefs or thoughts mattered, and Issei got to practice really listening to people.
Shirou's sudden absentmindness, which had only begun when he had returned from running supplemental copies to the various teachers on campus, set off warning bells in Issei's mind. Unfortunately for Issei, Shirou was not an open person by nature. He would have to try and approach things delicately.
"Did Matou go to the park? I didn't see him at the Archery Club's stand." He tried an indirect assault. Issei knew where Shinji Matou was in reality. In fact, the boy had bluntly told Issei that he was going to stay home today.
To the president's great annoyance. It was such a waste of that boy's talents.
"Eh," Shirou uncomfortably began, shaking his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe?" He bowed out of the question, surprising Issei.
Well, that was fine.
"Why don't you go? Matou left, so can you." Issei finally got to the point he had wanted to make. From the tone that Shirou had, even the redhead knew where Shinji really was at the moment. "Today is one of the days you're allowed to actually not be at school."
"It's fine." Shirou said, looking a little disgruntled for a moment.
"You've done enough." Issei clucked his tongue, wagging a finger at Shirou. "So I'll release you, our valedictorian isn't bothering with school today, so I don't see why you should be doing his share of the work."
Shirou chuckled, finally flashing a smile.
"Go home, and come back refreshed for more work tomorrow, alright?" With that, Issei gestured at the door. No other recourse left, Shirou rose to his feet and headed towards the door. On the way out, Issei noticed the boy linger near a small plaque next to the exit before leaving with a mumbled goodbye.
Issei waited, moving to check the plaque.
'In memory of the fallen, may your eternal rest be blissful. You shall be loved forevermore.'
The names of the students that had been buried alive when the fires collapsed the old school building were numerous - neatly set in array, as if lives concluded could be so easily summarized.
Issei closed his eyes, remembering all the times Shirou had paused to look at the plaque in the past.
'It must be easy for most people,' Even himself, Issei guiltily thought. 'The coming festival is going to be when we can stop thinking about the fire for another year.'
Those that had suffered the most had passed.
Others let time bury the dead.
And a truly unfortunate few would bear their crosses forever.
Shinji Matou miserably slammed his alarm clock off. The boy rolled over to his side, glaring out the window. In the distance, the pajama clad boy could see his neighbors walking up and down the street outside.
It was a nice day.
In fact, a glance at the alarm showed he was ridiculously late for classes. He was probably going to be in trouble.
Taking that into consideration, Shinji pulled the blanket up over his head and went back to bed.
He wasn't going out today, no matter what.
Because it was such a good looking day, he wasn't going to ruin it. Shinji closed his eyes, hoping to just pass the day away.
Sleep refused to come.
Shinji angrily bolted up out of his bed, hair in disarray and his outfit practically falling off of him. The boy rapidly rubbed his head as his frustration made him practically vibrate in place. He hopped of his bed, struggling to shove his arm back into his sleeve properly as he tried to compose himself, but the same nervous energy almost made him flop face first onto the ground.
"Why couldn't I have just slept today?" Shinji cursed as he untangled his feet from his covers. Freeing himself, he could feel the drain from having stayed up late. He was sure everyone else he hung out with was peacefully sleeping away.
Those jackasses.
Shinji angrily threw his covers back onto his bed and went to get dressed, ignoring the school uniform in his closet as he clawed for the first outfit he found.
There was at least one thing he could do to pass the day well.
"Sorry I took so long. I had to take care of some things."
A pair of teenagers, children really, walked in the middle of a graveyard. All around them, families in mourning wear walked. Several of them offered them smiles of recognition, some more sly than others at their proximity.
"Considering the kinds of things you waste time on, I'm not even going to ask, Emiya-kun."
Shirou resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Seeing that Rin Tohsaka was glancing at him sharply, he made a show of huddling further in his coat. She could win for today, he really didn't want to piss off the representative of the Hero's Association.
Today, at least.
"Your minder isn't here today?" Well, he was sort of a bad loser at times, so he'd at least get his final shot out.
"First of all, Kirei isn't anything of mine. Much less a 'minder'," Rin resisted the urge to snarl out in response, glancing over towards the church in the distance. "Secondly, he's getting ready to go down to the old memorial site."
She looked over at him with a piercing look. It was a strange thing, curiosity warring with an order. Some unsaid question was in there too.
Something he really didn't want to acknowledge right now.
"Are you going to come? We can finally introduce you to the world." It wasn't the same question that she had wanted to ask, the disappointed curl in her lip telling him as much.
"Not this year." Shirou tapped the folder that Rin had gotten him against his thigh. "No point to it."
Rin suddenly looked all kinds of scary, the smaller girl leaning towards him threatening.
"What do you mean, not important! That announcement is the most important of them all...!" She caught herself, especially when a few people glanced over at them. Either to lead them to another conclusion, or just because Rin was sort of a bitch that way, she lightly socked him in the stomach.
The innocent civilians, unaware of Rin's true nature, simply shook their heads as Rin forced a giggle.
Just a pair of crazy kids.
Shirou resisted the urge to clutch at what was probably a nasty looking bruise that was forming. Oh, that one was going to bruise for a while.
As quickly as Rin's temper came, it went though. A guilty look crossed her face, along with a not so subtle follow up.
"C'mon, let's get out of here." She began, taking a hold of his shirt and tugging him along. "I'll make you some tea before you go home."
Yeah, tea.
Alright, then.
Two gravestones, sharing the names of the departing children, were left clean and with a pair of flowers.
Within the next hour, a third flower would be added to the one reading 'Emiya'.
Some would even say it was in bad taste to rebuild on the site of the great fire, but the Heroes Association had gone ahead and rebuilt their branch location in Fuyuki even larger and grander than before.
The land, which refused to allow anything to grow, was tilled and paved over. With no one else stepping forward, the building itself spread. Several important and highly placed people had been persuaded by the only surviving member, an intern of the prestigious Tokiomi Tohsaka, to begin talks with the main Association branch in Europe to make this the go to location for the asiatic region.
Officials from the region were arriving at the multistory building, observed via closed circuit television.
"Another year," The figure lazily turned away from the monitors, observing Rin sneaking in through an often ignored back entrance. "How time flies. I wonder if you'd be impressed with your daughter's breaking and entering, Master?"
Kirei Kotomine reached for a switch, powering several of the screens off and deleting the evidence of Rin's crimes in the process. It wasn't like he needed a real reason to lecture her, she was too much of an adult to really pay him any mind.
The screens switched back to an unedited copy of the Time Trapper's desperate attempts that night. Unlike the slop that was offered to the rest of the masses, the copy he had before him showed more failures than successes. The reality was always much crueler than what they aired - the truth was tough for business.
As he observed the video, Kirei mentally kept a countdown for his own benefit. Rin would only take so much time to get ready, and during that time he could at least bolster himself for the day's pagentries. If only that coward presented himself this year, then all this would be worth it to the priest.
'Your son disappoints me, Emiya.'
Several miles away, the staff of the Fuyuki Grand Hyatt were well in the midst of their own work day. Despite the anniversary, or morbidly enough, because of the anniversary of the tragedy, they were getting an influx of guests. It would tapper off within a week, but for now they would serve out of town well wishers and the distant family of both heroes and civilians lost to the best of their abilities.
It was a trying time, though.
Sometimes some of their guests just felt the stress of the season moreso than others. At those times, the staff could rely on the manager of the hotel to step in and get everything under control. Or at the very least get the pressure off them.
"Sir, my deepest apologies, I will see to it personally that we deliver you the proper vintage." Right now, the manager was calmly leading an irate looking customer away from the front desk. The heckled agent behind the front desk only felt relief as his torment was led away.
Meanwhile, several bellhops were crisscrossing the vast room, the sparkling floor reflecting them as they pushed copper dollies to and from the entrance. The sound of cars and traffic weren't very far away, lending a sense of urgency and energy to the proceedings.
In this controlled chaos, it was easy to see why would everyone miss the sight at the back of the room.
A line of bronze decorated, glass elevators sat undisturbed along the north side of the building. One of their caretakers and operators, Yoko Terauchi, was currently more focused on the show that the manager and unruly employee up front were putting on.
"Hahah, poor Nishihara." She shook her head, observing as their guest looked on in disbelief as their manager offered some sort of delicacy ham to them. "Guy was aiming for some wine, I bet. Those overpaid drunkards from Tokyo always do."
While it was frowned upon, Yoko always snuck her small radio with her. Even now while she watched her manager get lambasted, she kept half an ear on the annual speech they were giving over at Shinto.
"Hm, looks like they're going to get the daughter of the old chair talking?"
She missed as the brass arrow on the elevator three spots down the row began to tremble. Much less see the fine cracks forming on the glass itself as the arrow was shoved further to the left than it could possibly go.
Purple and dark mist began to seep out of the tube as the elevator's platform finally began to sink down into a void.
Observing the disgruntled guest begin to turn towards her, the operator quickly composed herself. Her smile lasted approximately three seconds before two things happened.
First, one of the elevators behind her made a musical chime, surprising her since the elevator display didn't show any requests for the ground floor. The second was the guest dropping his fancy ham and wildly shouting and pointing behind her.
"Wha-?"
She turned, getting a faceful of hot, fetid air as a swarm of pale, squirming creatures poured out.
Upstairs, in one of the empty VIP rooms of the Hyatt, a lone teenager scanned Fuyuki's vista with ruby eyes. Her expression grew frustrated as minutes passed without finding what she was looking for.
It really wasn't helping that the haze of magecraft that was practically clinging onto the building was tainting the view of her birth city with a noxious sort of haze. Privacy or not, that darned film was giving her a headache!
"I can't find what her at all from up here!" She peevishly spoke up, stomping her foot angrily. "Best view in Fuyuki, my bottom!"
Guilt struck her, making the girl anxiously look around, hoping no one had heard her curse.
The resident of the decadent room was about to breath a sigh of relief, but froze in place as she felt a prodding sensation. She quirked her head and closed her eyes to focus on the communication. "No, don't eat them. Just send them back to grandpa. He'll figure out what to do with them." The girl commanded, voice firm.
She didn't want to make a scene yet.
"My lady?"
The prompt made the girl, wearing fading and patched up skins, turn towards the entrance of her room. Standing there were a bellhop, the manager, and the poor girl that her boys had accidentally crushed.
"I'm sorry about that. The boys sometimes act without thinking about the consequences. Are you feeling better, now?" She immediately bowed towards the middle aged lady, her boys immediately informing her of the woman's name. The teenager belated added on that knowledge to the end of her sentence. "Miss Terauchi."
Yoko shook her head, looking severely disturbed and just a touch hesitant.
Fortunately for the teenager that was questioning the operator, her boys, already working to replace Yoko's torn off limbs, told her the operator was healthy. Just a little bit shy of traumatized.
Well, that was mostly good, then.
The manager cleared his throat, making the teenager refocus on him. A few of the worms clung onto his shoulders and one was partly burrowed into his forehead.
"We need to send someone after our target." The manager, thanks to the worms within him, vocalized the tiny, niggling little detail that the teenager still refused to acknowledge.
"I need to check something." The teenager replied. She brought her hands together, pouting. "I'll do it later, I promise!"
The manager's expression turned chiding as she tried to focus her attention on anything but him. She settled for a pout as the manager brought up what the leader already knew.
"Our grandfather will be ... displeased if we take too long."
The extra emphasis really wasn't needed.
The teenager hummed and considered it for all of a few moments, before orienting her attention back on the bellhop. The worker looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, urgently pushing a dolly carrying a pale and traumatized man towards her.
The queen looked at the ham the bellhop was clinging to like a life preserver.
"Give me that, and you got yourself a deal." She cracked a deal with herself, bringing a smile to the manager's face.
Several stiff moving, nervous faced people glanced away from the comforting sight of the lobby exits as the elevators behind them roared to life. One of them, afraid of another rush like had happened last time, quickly moved over a puddle of ooze and huddled behind a low coffee table.
Just like before, the floor markings on the top of several of the elevator doors swung past the ground floor. A terrible racket, like a groaning giant, echoed in the lobby for a few moments. Then it all stopped as all the elevators rose as one, revealing a series of figures. Several glimmering lights were deep within their shadowy bodies as they looked around for a few moments.
The starbursts located around their heads dimmed for a moment as they took in the slimed up people.
They were not the people they were looking for.
As one, they all flickered and vanished in bursts of prana. Only tiny bits of dark grain floated down to the bottom of their elevator tubes, before it too faded.
Shinji kept his eyes on the front door, ignoring the dusty plaques on the walls. Stopping at the bottom of the staircase, he turned in the direction of his father's study.
"I'm getting the hell out of here!" Shinji called out to his court enforced guardian, rolling his shoulder when Byakuya Matou didn't respond. A quick glance at the clock near the exit of the home made him roll his eyes.
It was a quarter past the hour.
Of course, it was still too early in the day for his father to wake up from his 'bout of creativity'.
Or whatever Byakuya was taking to calling it these days.
"Don't wait up, nimrod." Shinji grumbled, slamming the door shut behind him. The teenager rubbed his glove clad hands together as he moved out towards the street. He got a few looks from neighbors as he walked through the thigh high length grass, but he ignored them.
It wasn't his turn to pretty up the yard, so he was going to let it go until his live in pest did it. Or bribed him to do it.
Walking towards the direction of the Emiya home, Shinji didn't notice the stray dog following intently.
Cooking was one of the few things that Shinji had ever seen Shirou actually brag about. Strangely enough, he agreed with the old lady that it was worth bragging about. The thought that he agreed with Taiga was a unique enough situation that he felt like noting it out.
"Yes, it's great when we're a harmonious home, isn't it Matou-kun?" Taiga sweetly smiled at his statement, retracting her knuckles from the top of his aching, rattling skull. The crazy woman had a somewhat unnerving pitch to her laughter as she followed up. "A big -sister- and her two annoying brothers, ohohoho."
He should have kept his fat mouth shut.
Shinji noticed the traitor keeping out of the conversation, instead serving his leftovers to a suddenly childishly entreating Taiga.
"You're spoiling her. Stop it. She's going to be an absolute pain to work with in the morning."
"Ignore him." Taiga continued, flashing Shinji a glare. It used to affect him, but continued exposure over the years had given him a measure of immunity. "He just isn't happy I'm bursting with so much more vigor than him during club."
"Hikaru Genji would be proud of you right now."
Taiga actually -blushed- at that one, stuttering as she declined another serving off Shirou's plate. And Shirou, blessed idiot he was, simply glanced at Taiga in open shock. It only added more to the woman's blush.
Dammit, she wasn't supposed to actually look cute when she got like that.
"I-I'm heading out!" Taiga shouted, shooting up to her feet and rushing out before Shirou could speak.
The bright light of the day briefly shone into the house before Taiga slammed the door shut behind her.
'Wow, I actually won,' Shinji thought to himself.
"What happened?" Shirou was as stunned as Shinji felt, staring between the door heading to the hallway and then at me.
"Probably something that'll lead to pain." The Matou raised a bowl to his lips, taking his slow victory sip.
The sun began to set over the neighborhood.
The solitary dog overlooking the Emiya home ignored the squealing, cursing woman that ran out of the building. At any other time, the dog would have fled at the sudden noise, but the parasite within kept him in check. Thoughts of running away made its body tremble as disturbing sensations assaulted it from the direction of the building.
Some sort of primal force was at work defending it.
One that it could do nothing to resist while trapped inside this meatsack. With its power restrained, all it could do was send out a weak, whimpering cry to its brethren.
Fortunately, it got an answer.
Unfortunate for its target.
As the hour ticked by, conversation slowly drizzled to a stop, and Shinji found himself at a loss for words. A glance over at Shirou, sitting next to him on the porch facing the yard, showed the jerk seemed completely at ease just basking in the silence.
"Hey," He broke the unneeded silence, drawing on the redhead's attention. "Why don't we go out and play for a bit?"
Shirou, being the milquetoast he always was, frowned a little.
"We can't be late for the memorial tomorrow," Shirou responded, making Shinji's mood sour a little. "Plus you already missed class. Issei was already asking about you. In fact, why do-"
'Meh, that damn four eyes should know I'm not coming back until next week.' The Matou boy thought to himself, knowing damn well that the class president knew his pattern by now. He had been repeating it for years now.
"Who cares, Emiya?" Shinji retorted, cutting off his friend's chiding statement. "You already do a lot of extra work anyway. What's a day or two that you miss?"
Shirou flatly looked at him.
The other teenager realized what that look meant after a split second of thought.
"Forget that woman!" He barked at Shirou. Shinji angrily waved his hands around for emphasis. "Even she'll have to accept that you're allowed to vent a little! You're not a machine, dammit!"
Shirou went strangely quiet at that, looking up at the rising moon for a moment in consideration.
"C'mon," Shinji prodded, sensing Emiya's change in mood. "I even let you finish that stupid stand. It'll be a waste if we don't at least pass by the Hyatt or something." He suggested, smiling a little. "Maybe we can find you a girlfriend? You're practically one of the town's star attractions this week."
The energy in the air died out.
And Shinji felt like punching himself, gently biting down on his tongue to keep his mouth from flying further than his brain could catch up.
"I...think I'm going to go to bed instead, Shinji." Shirou delicately replied, in an almost disturbingly serene voice. Shinji felt like biting in full force when he caught Shirou's eyes shimmering with restrained emotion.
"Hey, Shi-"
"You should head back, Shinji." Shirou cut him off, rising up. Once again, the seemingly goody two shoes got in his own blow as he concluded. "Besides, your dad must be worried about you by now, right?"
Shinji winced, but allowed it. He had been the one that had accidentally started it.
"Yeah." Shinji trailed off, sighing as he stood up. "I'll see you." He tried to keep his tone casual as he began to walk towards the door.
"See you tomorrow."
Well, at least Shinji hadn't burned his bridges. It was one of the good traits about his friend, at least. Still, he very much wanted to say something to clear the air before he left.
Or at the very least ruin the accepting look Shirou had on his face right now. He waited until he was nearly at the exit to the home, followed by Shirou, before he let his final weapon fly as they stood opposite each other across the divide of the entrance.
"Ayako says you're an idiot, and she wants you back, by the way."
Once his words registered, Shirou's zen look began to crumble.
"She wants you back hard."
Shirou's eyebrow twitched.
Shinji looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth as he gave his final, parting shot.
"You'll need to bring lube, though."
And like that, Shirou's face caught on fire.
"Shut up, idiot!" Shirou swung without any real force. Shinji quickly moved backwards, holding his hands up defensively.
"What?! You need to bring some more oil to maintain the bows, Mr. Janitor!" Shinji replied, eyes twinkling as he avoided a few more half hearted blows. Shirou breathed heavily, not willing to chase Shinji into the street for payback, but the way the boy's shoulders were heaving with restrained mirth told the Matou boy enough.
Now it was fine to leave.
"Anyway," Shinji started, waving goodbye to Shirou as he began to move away. He looked away from his resident chump, feeling good as he threw out his final words. "I'll catch you-"
The sound of metal dragging on pavement rang out in the night.
Shinji's words died in his mouth as he looked at the source of the noise, able to hear the gasp of surprise coming from behind.
A figure made out of darkness, outlined by the rising moon, glimmered before him.
It was like a galaxy condensed in the form of man, with countless twinkling lights shimmering within. The moonlight hypnotically danced along its form, making the priceless gems within the strange, otherworldly figure glow and sway.
Any further consideration of the creature shortly ended as the source of the sound revealed itself - A misshapen appendage was jutting out of the figure's left shoulder and dragging itself along the street.
It took a few moments for Shinji to place the nature of the blocky, spikey appendage, he and Shirou simultaneously coming to the same conclusion.
"Get back in, Shinji!"
It appeared their guest also appeared their guest had also realize the game was afoot. The humanoid's 'eyes', or whatever passed for them on the figure's head, shone with a sudden malevolent light. It began to break out in a run towards him, sparks flying from its blade like appendage as it raced along the street.
Shirou practically hauled Shinji back into his house. The latter could only look on in confusion as the redhead slammed the door shut and pulled them back, deeper into the house.
The front door and much of the surrounding wall were simply vaporized by the creature barreling through.
Considering the way the night was going, he wasn't surprised him one bit when a crackling amethyst electricity wrapped around their attacker. The beast threw its head back and emitted an head splitting squeal as it trembled and thrashed within the grasp of the trap.
Shirou pulled Shinji out of a stray swipe that annihilated a cool looking vase he had brought one time. It seemed like the beast's range lengthened as Shinji began to actively contribute to his own survival after that point. Rents on the walls and gouges on the ceiling and floor formed as the boys desperately avoided the wicked looking weapon the beast was flailing about.
The attack ended as suddenly as it'd begun.
The countless lights within their attacker's body guttered out, the monster crashing to the ground. Where it made contact, clouds of soot erupted, causing Shirou and Shinji to cough and hack as the foul smelling substance assaulted their nostrils. With the strange dust billowing in the air, Shinji could finally see what he'd been expecting by now.
Countless patterns of esoteric symbols and strange words were scribbled on the walls with a desperate sort of energy. These things Shinji had seen already, within books and on other tools.
That had been another time and place, though. An era of his life that Shinji really didn't want to remember anymore.
Too bad he had to face it again.
Shirou looked like he had taken a bite of something sour as Shinji looked at him looked at him silently, wearing no visible emotion.
"Shinji, we-"
An angry howl cut off Shirou's attempt to speak. The distraction would save their lives, as the had missed a critical issue. The soot was moving on its own, covering the symbols on the could only watch in mounting horror as another figure, joined by three more, began to approach the entrance as their protection began to fall.
The same attack that had ended one of their attacks struck on of the figures full force, but the other two merely got a mere light peppering of electricity for their troubles as they entered the Emiya home.
The invaders would not be given the opportunity to catch them.
Both boys ran out of the hallway and clear across the living room. Behind them, they could hear more things being shattered, followed by heavy footsteps. The monsters were getting closer - the house's defenses were only slowing them down.
That's when Shirou got a stupid look in his eye.
"Get over to the shed, Shinji! There's a weapon there that'll keep you safe!" Shirou had apparently abandoned any pretenses of normality at this point, taking up a stance facing the only door.
Shinji stared at the redhead in stunned silence.
There was only one kind of weapon that could deal with beasts like that, though...
"But last time they needed a-!"
"Yes I know, just go!"
Shirou stepped back and shoved Shinji away, pushing him into the shed. The Matou boy tried to get back to his feet, refusing to allow the idiot to play the martyr hero, but Emiya was faster.
A bodycheck sent Shinji flying back into the shed.
The door slammed shut before Shinji could right back up. More of those symbols flared over the now-locked door, most likely some sort of final defense.
Not that it would protect the person it was meant to.
Shinji was baffled over what happned, but a metallic clang on the other side of the door jolted him back to the present.
"Don't get a big head, Emiya!" Shinji jumped towards the door, hearing the sounds of a scuffle on the other side.
He had to Shirou into safety with him. The door obviously had defenses, it surely could hold up long enough for the two of them to find that weapon!
The Matou's hand was grasping the doorknob to force it open, barrier or no barrier, when the entire thing shuddered. Steel shrieked along and a noise like a paper bag tearing echoed in Shinji's ears.
Darkness temporarily covered his vision.
Shinji wiped off the warm liquid that had splashed his face, and marveled at what he was seeing. A long, wickedly barbed spear had punched clear through the door. It was a miracle that Shinji had avoided getting run through by the thing, which was retracting even now.
A coppery scent filled Shinji's nostrils.
Shinji's knees buckled as he scrambled away from the door. Something heavy could be heard slumping onto the ground outside of the shed. Several more spears pierced through the door in front of him.
The magic field on the door held. For now.
The teenager silently fell further into the shed, absently wiping the strange liquid on his pants. So long as he didn't acknowledge it, it was fine.
Everything was fine.
Empty pots and strangely light appliances were angrily scattered away with a furious blow.
"Think! He wouldn't be so vague about it unless it was obvious!" Shinji's heart was aching in his chest, probably from the sheer terror. His breath pitched itself higher as he heard the thrashing outside.
He didn't have time for this.
Shinji tried to control himself, even forcing his trembling hands to his hips as he looked around. He needed to be calm, or he was just going to waste this last chance. His eyes scanned past discarded bikes, past old tarps covering who knew what kind of hardware, and over assorted junk.
The light over Shinji's head swayed back and forth, making his search harder. His persistance was shortly rewarded, though. The teenager could just barely make out a large shape in the darkness.
He prayed it was the weapon.
'Crap, you had this thing all along?!' Shinji was amazed at the beautiful looking motorcycle that was revealed as he drew away the tarp protecting it. Shirou must have spent all his time maintaining it, especially since it was practically pristine, unlike the various half-finished projects and broken knickknacks lying around.
'Could this be it?' Shinji wondered, looking at the bike. He had heard that those weapons could take on all kinds of shapes. It was a long shot, but...
"Hen...shin?" The word was ground out, from thinned lips and a stuttering voice as he looked around, feeling like this was the moment of truth.
Nothing happened.
"Son of a bi-!"
'That's not going to be productive.' Shinji clamped his mouth shut. Sweat was running down his back in rivets now as the sounds of the door behind annihilated behind him rather painfully reminded him of what was going to happen. He walked to the center of the shed and slowly gave things one last pass.
There had to be something else...!
Moonlight flooded into the shed as the door finally gave out. Whatever force had been holding them back was annihilated with a final, defiant burst of light.
The lit up shed revealed a wooden cabinet set in the back corner of the room, almost completely concealed behind a large collection of paint cans. Shinji didn't dare to glance at the door as he ran towards the cabinet.
Steel was crushed behind him as he threw the cabinet open.
A black ribbon framed picture of Shirou's father, and mentor from what he remembered, resided within. All the tools for a family shrine were there, and for a moment Shinji's hopes bottomed out.
Reflected on the glass of Kiritsugu Emiya was one of those beast, reaching towards Shinji with its hands.
This was it. He had lost.
Shinji felt the hands clutch at his shoulders, beginning to pull him away from the shrine. In desperation, the teenager grabbed something - anything that he could use to delay the inevitable. His hand tightened around something as he was pulled to face the monstrosity.
He immediately regretted it, feeling like he was going to throw up as he saw his friend held by the abomination entering the shed after its ally. Shirou had a massive wound running down the length of his body, with blood having darkened his entire front. It was probably a miracle that the boy wasn't flopping into two pieces, especially with the way that he was being held in the beast's grip.
While several nicks and deep looking cuts were on the abomination's body, it didn't seemed phased in the least.
'You died...'
The one that held Shinji simply pulled him higher, so the two of them were looking at each other face to face. His hand hurt as he tightened his grip on whatever he'd pulled out of the shrine.
'For no...'
A swirling cluster of stars danced before Shinji's eyes. The beast angled its head to the side, almost curiously.
'...goddamned reason!'
Shinji slammed a brass urn into the side of the creature's head with a sickening thud.
"Idiot!"
Its head rocked to the side.
"Why didn't you get it?! You knew where the damn thing was!"
The monster refused to let go of Shinji, tightening its hold on him.
"You shouldn't have left me behind!" The boy rallied and began to rain blow after blow on it's skull uselessly. At one point, he realized he was screaming, but Shinji didn't stop. If the freak holding him was going to kill him, that was fine with him!
The beast holding him finally grew tired of Shinji's pointless assault, reached for, and ripped the urn out of his grasp.
"...you didn't have to die, Shirou!"
The hand the monster was gripping the urn with began to smoke seconds before a trio of lightning bolts streaked through it, racing past Shinji's back and curving around to run his tormentor through.
"I had hoped that this device would not be used again, but it seems that I was too naive."
It shrieked and dropped Shinji, each one of them bouncing off in different directions.
The teenager's mouth dropped as he gazed at three smoking holes which had punched through the cabinet. Was there someone behind it? His question was answered as several more formed as multiple bolts of lightning suddenly pierced through the furniture, annihilating it and revealing a hidden entrance.
"What's happened has happened, and there's nothing we can do about it."
The beast squirmed, howling miserably as it was tormented by the attacks. If there was mercy to be found, it would not be at this shed, not tonight.
"You have the power to make it so that nobody else suffers the fate of my son." Through it all, a detached, wary voice spoke to Shinji from beyond the entrance that had been revealed. The bolts that were very thoroughly cooking the abomination alive were forcing the other one, the one that held onto Shirou's body, back.
Noticing that none of the lightning bolts were coming in low, Shinji took one last gamble. He quickly crawled towards the entrance, huddling and shivering as the bolts raced above his head. The man, Shirou's father, spoke up one last time as Shinji entered the darkness beyond the entrance.
"I won't force you to do it."
Even as the ground suddenly vanished, turning into a smooth slide downwards, Shinji stayed silent.
There wasn't a point answering.
A blank plane met his eyes, spreading out as far as Shinji's eyes could see. High above, a segmented, blocky sort of ceiling stretched outwards. Beyond the mattress he had landed on was a normal floor, linoleum tiles probably.
It looked like some sort of office, scaled up to impossible dimensions.
He straightened up and walked forwards. There was something he could just barely make out in the distance.
The boy immediately had to hiss out a pained breath of air. He clutched at his knee, which was pressed up against a desk that definitely was not there a moment ago. In fact, a sweep across the place he found himself in showed several more new things had appeared.
Or...rather, didn't. They were all surrounded by an nimbus of light, blocky in nature. It looked like virtual images or something, to Shinji's untrained eye. Parts of the things were fading in and out of sight like ghosts.
Shinji touched the part of the desk he had run into. It felt solid, but trying the same on a flickering piece just let him hand swipe through nothing. Next time he winced as fingers slammed hard onto the material.
"I'd advise against further attempts." Kiritsugu Emiya's voice called out, almost from everywhere at once. His voice made Shinji wildly cast about for its source as the man concluded. "Unless you wish to lose your fingers when it phases back into our local time."
Shinji quickly retracted his hands, keeping them to himself.
"Excellent choice. Now, come along."
A portion of the ground beneath Shinji's feet darkened, followed by a crumbling noise as it began to stretch out before him, towards the distant object on the horizon. Shinji stepped onto the path before him.
The world outside of the designated path blurred, his eyes stinging as he tried and failed to keep up with a sensation like reality was flashing around him at hundreds of miles per hour. Tears came to his eyes as he uselessly brought his hands up to protect himself from what was going on.
A high pitched sound rattled in his head, and his clothes and hair began to whip around - like if he was standing in a wind tunnel. Just when the pressure and his own fear had mounted to their limit, it was over.
He had arrived at his destination.
Shinji immediately keeled over, and loudly retched. His hands dug deep into the shimmering sands he found himself on. In the distance, he could hear the sound of crashing waves. The scent of the sea filled his lungs.
"It takes a while to get used to."
The teenager miserably looked up.
Lingering high above were two palm trees, arcing towards each other. Floating between the two was some sort of golden pyramid, whatever was contained within it was emitting intermittent beams of light. Wherever the light struck faded into a haze of vagueness, as if it'd grown insubstantial.
"I don't care about that," Shinji replied, not in the mood for pleasantries. "Just give me the weapon."
He rose from his spot, ignoring the dilapated, burnt down houses around him to focus on the object before him. It had been the source of the voice, so it had to be what was in charge of all this. The teenager's voice broked no argument as he punctuated his point. "I want to kill those son of a bitches."
"Anger - well, I can work with that."
The voice of ... whoever that was sounded accepting. Assuming it was Shirou's father, the man didn't sound nearly distressed enough for Shinji's liking.
A trio of beams suddenly struck the sand a few steps ahead of Shinji. He didn't flinch as the beach swirled to life, rising upwards in a spiral. The teenager's eyes narrowed as he leaned forwards, something was rising up, concealed by the sand all this time.
"So in the end it really was a Hero Driver." Shinji's observation was clinical as the sand blew off the object. The device didn't look as specialized as the ones he'd seen on TV.
It wasn't in the shape of the vehicle, like he had thought in the case of the motorcycle. The Driver didn't resemble any weapon either, even if it granted more than enough destructive power for any given task.
Quite frankly - the small metallic card, inset with a circuit board sort of appearance, was underwhelming.
"Registering new user..."
The faceless creatures mercilessly marched into the Emiya home, punching holes into its walls. They kept flooding from the streets, called in by the parasite observing within the stray dog across the street. Through death and brute force, the reinforcements systematically shattered the mystical protections.
"Accessing the Gaian records."
Soon the scouting parasite would be able to report to their Lady.
"Identifying compatible cultural foundation. Cross checking regional dominance. Running search parameters."
In the meantime, they tirelessly swept from room to room, looking for the prey that had been confirmed inside. Rooms were overturned, furniture was broken to try and locate any hiding spots. Their mindless pursuit trampled and crushed many precious things belonging to those who had made this their home.
"Compatibility diagnosis in three...two... one."
A burnt, near dead figure stumbled from the shed as it sensed several more of its kin. The weakened defenses, by the grainy material generated by its ally's death, were too weak to restrain it. Far too weak to keep the limp body from being taken away.
Met partway by its allies, the wounded beast began to retreat.
"Begin synchronization."
"I thought you'd never ask!" Shinji Matou leapt back up to the ground floor of the building. The metallic deck in his hand began to heat up, the circuits on its surface turning red as energy flooded the device for the first time in years. His ascent peaked, and he came down, slamming the weapon into the ground with force.
The released energy had all the strength of a gale storm behind it. Concrete was shredded apart beneath Shinji's fist, surrounding him in a dome of wind. Prana gathered from the damaged defense system and even the grainy remains of the abomination. Light gathered in the center of the sphere as it flew out of the shed, tearing the hinges off the steel door. It went screaming towards the trio of demons standing directly in the way.
With a literal shooting star bearing down on them, the demons were like wheat before a scythe. They stood as one, bodies hardening as countless protrusions erupted out to impale their attacker. Their attempts at weaponizing their limbs to attack only served for a brief, laughable joke in the face of the onwards rush.
Blown away like dry leaves, the comet arced upwards to prevent its suicidal dash from colliding into the last figure, the one carrying Shirou.
The thrill of the ride came to an end. Gravity was beginning to take hold again, and he felt his ride beginning to lose speed and power.
His enemies' bodies were heavily damaged, filling him with a strange eagerness. They hadn't shrugged his attack, showing wounds far beyond the scratches Shirou had managed, but they were still standing. More power was required to totally break them down, it seemed.
Lesson learned, the next time he would make sure to crush them like bugs.
He shelved his musings of overwhelming force in favor of spreading his limbs, getting himself out of his ride. With his hands pressed against the dome's inner walls he felt something like a fast moving stream of water. A grunt escaped as he pressed himself up against the walls, trying to put more strength into breaking them.
It would have been most pathetic if this were where his revenge came to an end, with the monsters closing in while he was trapped inside his own chariot. Using the imagined indignity as more fuel, he was able to channel just enough force. His fists tore through the swirling dome, while the rest of his body followed as he escaped through the widening gaps.
A low pitched whine filled the yard, the grass rustling in the breeze. His body plummeted towards the ground, but fear wasn't even a consideration. It was like he'd gone into autopilot, pivoting through the skies to lightly touch down like a predatory animal. A sense of vertigo briefly assailed him as he briefly glanced toward the approaching monsters.
Was something wrong...?
No, there was no time.
He pushed himself in their direction, shooting low across the ground.
The grass brushed against the front of his body as he slid across the ground, goosebumps crawling up his arms. He knew that this was the best way to meet them. Whatever these things were, they weren't the least bit agile.
Shinji was proven right as two of them missed him, the heavy weapons on their bodies striking the ground behind him. He descended on the last one, swinging at one of the monster's legs with all his might.
The cracked armor simply couldn't resist his full strength. Black grain powdered itself against his knuckles.
"Kuh!" Shinji grunted, feeling vibrations surge up his arm.
A substance similar to blood flew everywhere. His fist had torn through the armor, revealing some strange sort of flesh beneath it. It looked practically alien, whatever it was.
Alien or not, his fist was committed to the strike. He tore through that flesh as well, the limb practically blown off the the abomination. Even with its armor, it felt like ripping through wet paper.
That strength was a double edged sword, though. With Shinji over committed to the strike, he kept moving forwards, and shoulder-checked the monster. The creature was already unsteady, and this was enough to send them both to the ground.
He knew if he fell or got himself pinned, it'd be over.
Rolling forwards, his momentum was barely enough to clear the shadow of the - now howling- creature.
The self-same strength aided him again, sending him rolling into a forwards flip. It seemed that he and gravity were simply on casual terms now. The demons, not wanting to give him the time to recover, pressed their attacks.
This turned the first roll into several tumbles and eventual all out gymnastics, as Shinji was forced to move in ways that his mind just couldn't conceive.
It seemed having super strength helped there too.
Eventually, Shinji got tired, and space was quickly running out.
His fists and legs tagged the demons in return, barely avoiding their counterstrikes. Apparently super strength didn't quite make up for lacking a solid stance. The blow sent the creature spinning, not causing any real damage.
It disappointed Shinji, he guessed he just wasn't quite that much of an anime-type of character yet.
With his pursuers temporarily halted, Shinji gratefully returned to terra firma. Unfortunately, it seemed that his attackers had finally wizened up to what he could do. Spikes, fired at him from crude-looking launchers jutting from the beasts' bodies, were barely avoided.
Another volley was somehow instinctively dodged.
Shinji winced, and thought that something snap. Pushing through the pain, he finished his contortion as he danced out of the way. His impromptu dodge left him completely open to the last volley.
Sensing that his body had finally run out of fancy tricks, Shinji did the only thing he could think of at the moment.
The next set of spikes embedded themselves in his bare forearms.
God, that was a bitch.
The surge of pain - along with something else - flooded through his system as he saw his own blood. He was done. This was it. He charged, contrary to what any intelligent - no, what any creature with a survival instinct - should have done. With a maddened, primal howl that even surprised himself, he barreled toward the two creatures before hum.
Shinji smashed aside the incoming spikes with the two freebies he'd been so graciously given. With every jarring thud from a successful deflection, fresh pain surged through his arms. It really wasn't smart, but he really had no other means of actually defending himself.
The most important thing was avoiding turning into a hedgehog. He really didn't want to have to go through that dilemma.
The distance to the monsters was crossed in the blink of an eye as he spun, smashing the back of his arm into one of the demon's skulls with a furious blow.
The spike ripped itself free from his arm as it made a new home in the monster's head. It went down with a fresh squeal, to replace the one that his first target had stopped making a little while ago. His other attack missed entirely; there wouldn't be any celebratory dessert for him tonight, he thought.
Whatever was inside the third armor had begun to panic. In a belated show of survival instinct, it fearfully backed away. Shinji straightened up and paced - unsteadily, but with a predatory confidence - towards the creature.
Without forewarning, it detonated its head.
Stunned at the petty act of surrender, he missed the fact that it was less of an explosion, and more as if the dust that formed its facial armor was being blown away in fast-forward. From the neck's stump rose a segmented, multi-limbed, wiggly-waggly... thing.
Not daring to even take the time to think about the impossibility of the insect-like creature before him, he was momentarily defenseless as it shot out of its body like a bat out hell.
The creature flexed several sac-like organs along its front and blasted him in the face with a yellowish tinted mist. He stumbled backwards, clawing at his face and feeling like the biggest jackass in the world. To his great relief, the outcome of the attack wasn't so worthy of a horror movie as the events of the night had led him to believe.
It was still a comedy, and Shinji was decidedly a fool.
Its little friend took advantage of his distraction to slam something into his side, aggravating his self-inflicted wound.
Stars flashed behind his eyes, which his fingers had just revealed to be covered by a moist leather-like mask. As he was launched into the air without his consent, his fingers came back burning.
It was acid!
He realized that acid would eventually eat through the mask, and just wasn't sure if his personality would be enough to get him through life.
With a desperate sort of speed, he ripped the mask off his face. The fresh breeze stroked his brow as he looked upon the world - perhaps for the first time.
For a brief, euphoric moment - psychedelic colors and pain-inducing [reality] assaulted his senses.
High above him, the bug was sweeping down for a dive. There was no way for him to defend himself in his current position, but ... somehow, he was alright?
The moment his gaze landed on it, the beast's entire body jerked in place, almost as if it were twisting itself away in fear. The opaque wings that had jutted out of its sides - no, the prana jetting out of its body - flared like out-of-control blowtorches before cutting off.
Several of the sacs along the bottom of its body darkened, turning from transparent to milky white. Some of them even ripped themselves out of the creature's body as it chittered and thrashed under his sight.
With pain continuing to assault his head, he didn't dare look away as the creature stopped writhing and twisting around. It rapidly lost agility, turning in color to a uniform gray. More pieces of its body fragmented, flung throughout the area as it sped to its death.
His dawning realization was broken as a cluster of stones fell upon him. With a breath that escaped his mouth in a spent wheeze, he was taken along for a short, unmerciful ride to earth. Even in death, that creature had still won a minor victory.
'A miserable death... when I took these blinds off?'
It was official. He was some sort of monster.
'I'm truly touched by your analysis of my personality, Kiritsugu Emiya. If I were a more sentimental man, I would go into that shed right now and smash your urn into the ground.'
Shinji stood wearily, shaking off the debris that covered him, and taking stock of his 'costume' for the first time.
"Hostiles have been eliminated." Kiritsugu Emiya called out. The man sure could project his voice. It reached him all the way from the shed. "What's your status?"
Not that Shinji was paying attention, busy trying to figure out the physics of the little black dress he was wearing.
"Chesty." He mumbled back, sounding shocked. Then looked some more. "And leggy."
Or rather, what -she- was wearing.
What kind of ridiculous victory was this?!
The hotel wasn't nearly as beautiful as what she had been led to believe. So she simply smashed all the space together and made it suitable. Like that, now there was something that fit her uncle's tales of wonder about the building.
Plus she finally had a good view of the entire city. Smashing several of the rooms on the top floor together let her gaze out no matter where she was standing. Plus she didn't have to waste time walking now, she could roll around on this really neat chair that had come with her original room.
The hotel's manager - technically, a part of herself now - patiently stood at attention as the new queen of the Hyatt rolled around her room, giggling her damn fool head off. He tried not to pay too much attention as parts of her body visibly warped as she crossed certain patches of the bedroom. It was better for the part of him that was still Sugita Chano to not really pay attention. The helpful, but rather sanity sapping, explanations he was getting whispered to him were not helping.
Space wasn't meant to be violated that way.
In Sugita's arms lay a whimpering, fearful stray. While its appearance was certainly aged, possibly to the point of passing away soon, its eyes were bright and alert.
The queen, and impromptu leader of their merry band, simply kicked her bare legs into the air as she spun around on her chair.
"So, you were a naughty boy." The queen's words made the dog whimper and glance down. Although that could very well be because Sugita's fingers had suddenly gone rigid, digging into the animal's sides. "Went and got someone caught up in our troubles, and that's no good." She wagged a finger, and the manager drew blood.
The beast attempted to reach out towards his mistress with the knowledge it had gained, but was coldly rebuffed by the girl. It soiled itself as the image of its fate appeared within its mind. Any attempts to scramble out of the hotel manager's grasp failed.
Heat warped the space they were standing within. Shadowy tendrils rose from the ground.
With an even greater desperation the beast continously tried to force it knowledge upon its queen, pleading for mercy in its simple way.
"Not this way," The teenage girl closed her eyes. Her voice sounded like it was considering an after dinner snack. "I think I'll have to make sure to train grandfather's soldiers better, hmhm. Still, it's a good thing I found him."
The dog squirmed, and tried to bite through the fingers holding it.
A smile came to both Sugita and the queen's faces as a stray thought came to mind.
"Well, after I make sure that poor boy winds up alright!" She developed a slight blush, considering a few thoughts as she twiddled her fingers thoughtfully. The teenager finally opened her eyes, looking at the bloody mess that remained in the hotel manager's hands. "Oh, you can drop that and go home."
Sugita allowed the meat to fall through his hands, swallowed up by the darkness beneath him. Even as the man within trembled in revulsion, he crisply nodded, turned, and walked away from the door.
The queen's stomach grumbled as the swirl sealed itself shut.
'I'm still hungry.'
She wondered if the cafe downstairs was still open for transdimensional abominations. The cake they had was good.
Really, -really- good.
Down in the Hyatt's basement, several humans serenely floated within crystal tubes. Each one was filled with some strange fluid, several black creatures swimming lazily about. A pasty sort of adhesive seemed to be covering the majority of the bodies floating within.
The tubes continued onwards into the darkness.
Skittering could be heard from the depths, along with deep, steady breathing.
Heroes Association Member Database
Time Trapper
Hero ID: D27594C2-1756-4BA7-9DD5-D20EBE8F978F
True Identity: Clearance level 'King' or higher required.
Hero Rank: C+
Driver Type: Transformation Device
System: Magecraft, Eastern Asian.
Hero Driver: [The Bloody March Towards Utopia]
Magecraft Analysis -
Circuit Count: Further investigation required.
* Addendum. Investigation cancelled due to death of subject.
Circuit Quality: Average
Cultural Foundation: Clearance level 'King' or higher required.
Dossier: Originally a vigilante, Hero #082 found the subject working alongside an armed guerilla insurgency in South East Asia. #082, currently on a mission in the region, immediately restrained and brought subject back to main base per the Randall Treaty of 1792.
Subject is charismatic, and was able to manipulate results on repeated psychiatric evaluations. Mind readers show that the subject's goals align with those stated on the Association's mission guideline.
Hero license instated after four months in holding.
Evaluation: An average hero. No use to the Association's long term goals. If found on the field, avoid contact.
"The nail standing out is the one to get hammered down first."
"An average her-"
"A true hero."
Edits complete.
File closing.
Hero Check!
Justice Boy
First Appearance: Investigation Comics #1
Kiritsugu Emiya wished for everyone in the world to be happy. With this ideal buried deep in his heart, he trained night and day. He would share this beautiful dream with everyone!
"That's impossible." His father, renowned chronomancer Noritaka Emiya, bluntly stated. "You're just a boy. Now stop eating delicious HOSTESS FRUIT PIES TM and help Shirley clean the laboratory."
Devastated, young Kiritsugu fled from the laboratory. Shirley, young Kiritsugu's childhood friend and Noritaka's protege, felt sorry for him.
"That's too much, Noritaka-san! You shouldn't be so cruel to your son!" The teenager pouted at him, leaving the files with STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS FORMULA lying behind as she followed after him.
Noritaka frowned as he followed after Shirley's exit intently, the man stroking his thin, dark beard in thought. His eyes, hidden behind his glasses, darkened ominously...