Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or Fate/Stay Night
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Everything went as it was supposed to. Until it didn't.
In countless worlds Sakura Matou would succumb to the darkest parts of herself, materialized by the evil thing growing within her. But in one world she did something Sakura Matou could not forgive herself for, no matter what.
"Sakura-chaaaan!" the obliviously cheerful voice of Taiga Fujimura trilled out. So unaware of the dark and vulgar happenings of the place she called her home.
"Oh, there you are," the woman cooed as pulled up a chair to the bedside of the girl worriedly. She noticed her student wasn't well and fretted over her for it.
"Honestly, that Shirou. Leaving you alone where you're so sick," she said shaking her head. Unaware of the Shadow growing around her.
The girl in the bed moved to get up.
"No wait, you shouldn't—"
"Senpai said, that he would protect me. Always." The girl sat up, shaking.
"Oh, I– I see," Taiga Fujimura was caught off guard, of course.
The Shadow grew, darkening the room. But Taiga Fujimura's attention was on her precious student in front of her.
"But I – I," the girl hugged herself. "I'm so sorry." She began to sob and quiver as if cold.
"No, no. It's all–" She reached out to comfort the girl with worried and sympathetic hazel eyes.
And then she was gone. Along with Shadow.
As if nothing was ever there, Taiga Fujimura was gone.
The girl. The girl known as Sakura Matou sobbed silently and hugged herself tighter. But if one looked, they would think she was trying to crush herself, for a person who loved her, whom she loved was now gone, and she was unable to blame anyone but herself.
% x % x %
Illyasviel von Einzbern knew, of course. She had just finished conversing with Sakura herself. She knew the terrible thing that had happened but said nothing. It was not out of love for Sakura Matou, for she had none for her. No, it was out of sympathy and care for Shirou Emiya, her foolish and precious brother. Shirou Emiya loved Sakura Matou with all that he could give.
Illya did not wish to taint that love. For it was that foolish love that her brother so precious. She did not wish to ruin it.
% x % x %
Events flowed as they hand so many times across infinity.
Shirou Emiya learned of Sakura's nature and connection to the Shadow and ignored it. He had placed her happiness and continued existence above those of the nameless her Shadow consumed and would consume. He could not betray her. It was unthinkable.
He continued to bond Illya. The daughter of his father. She became the little sister to him that he never could have imagined having. He didn't want to lose her.
And Rin Tohsaka continued plotting. Zouken Matou had to be stopped, no matter the cost.
As in so many timelines, Sakura Matou in guilt and blind grief discreetly left the Emiya home to return to the Matous. She would settle the debt with her family using her own life as payment and take the Old Worm's as well.
As in so many timelines, Shinji Matou pushed too far and paid for it as he deserved. While Sakura embraced the Shadow and the being that grew within her.
As in so many timelines, Shirou Emiya joined forces with Kirei Kotomine to rescue his sister from the clutches of Zouken and the Blackened Sakura.
As in so many timelines, Shirou and Illya worked together to use Archer's magecraft to create the Jeweled Sword of Zelretch for their final confrontation with Sakura Matou.
% x % x %
But there was a shift.
Rider, the Servant of the Mount had a single lapse.
She was overwhelmed by Saber, the Blackened Servant of the Sword. Though she had not gotten away unscathed either.
Shirou Emiya struck without mercy wielding the married blades favored by Archer. Her back turned, her stamina spent, he didn't give her any time to move or to respond.
He struck true upon her downed frame, plunging the white blade Bakuya into her breast. The girl that had been his friend, mentor, and protector. He had slain her without a second's hesitation.
Had he not been tearing himself apart in guilt he would have noticed the emerald gaze from Saber. Her true eyes filled with relief and gratitude as she at last passed back to where she belonged.
Shirou Emiya cast aside the memories of his friend that he had slain, for there was no forgiveness for what he had done.
Shirou Emiya approached the inner parts of the caverns where the sisters, Rin and Sakura clashed.
Sakura Matou wreathed in vulgar and violent black, sobbed over the mangled body of the red-clad girl in her arms that had been Rin Tohsaka. Rin Tohsaka had been Sakura's idol, her goal. She was everything Sakura wanted to be and now she was gone. A single moment of hesitation was all it had taken on Rin's part, and Sakura had struck without thinking or even knowing of her actions, far too blinded by the dark god that she was birthing.
She looked up at Shirou Emiya, who could only stare at the scene with an emptiness and blankness, befitting one who had already lost more than he had to give.
She asked him, "Senpai, kill me."
Sakura shuddered in grief and loathing for herself.
Shirou stood unmoving and uncomprehending. Nothing made sense. He was here to save her not kill her. But Rin was dead. Did it matter? It should have, her knew this intellectually, but for the life of him it held no weight. It was not her existence at stake after all.
"Please Senpai," Sakura continued. "I want to die. I want pay for everythi — ing!"
He approached his blackened lover. In his hand, in a flash of blue light, an ornate, jagged dagger with an amethyst shade clutched with purpose. It was a Projection of Rule Breaker, the Noble Phantasm of the Witch Colchis meant to sever all magical enchantments and contracts. Anything held together by magic would crumble before it. But even it had its limits.
The Blackness surrounding Sakura Matou roared, writhed, and lashed out in all directions like a mad and cornered creature. Shirou approached with Rule Breaker and swept at the tendrils of black attempting to rip him apart. He merely had to cut the beast, and then Sakura would be free. It was simple, straightforward.
The dagger shattered like glass and was eaten by the blackness. It was always weak. Rule Breaker had never been a weapon meant for combat, but it failed in even its intended purpose. Instead it broke and the magical energy swallowed like air.
Shirou Emiya stared at his empty hand, confused and afraid of what he knew it meant.
Sakura Matou screamed and cried for death. "I want to die! I want to die! Nee-san, Fujimura-sensei! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
Shirou paid no attention to the agony of his beloved. He could only agonize over what he had to do. He knew what had to be done. His magic circuits were fried. He only had a handful of projections left and Rule Breaker had failed. It had made contact with the beast known as Avenger and failed to sever the connection. Sakura Matou's broken mind and body could not contain the beast any longer. Had she rejected it actively, perhaps it would have succeeded. But she did not have the physical, mental, or spiritual capacity for that task any longer.
Shirou Emiya knew his role. He drew out the Azoth Dagger that Rin had given him before they departed for their battle.
He knelt in front of Sakura Matou. He knew there were tears in his eyes just as there were in hers. Broken and lost and resigned tears.
"Senpai. Please." Sakura breathed out. She took Shirou's hand, the one with the blade in it and brought it towards her own heart. The two shared on last look. A look filled with love, sadness, pain, and farewell.
The Azoth Dagger sank into Sakura Matou's heart. Neither knew whether Sakura pulled into her own chest or if Shirou had pushed it in, but it was over. The blackness left her form leaving only Sakura with a ghost of grateful smile on her lips.
He cradled her briefly without tears as his mind broke more and more, killing his ability to feel what he should have felt in the moment.
He caressed the girl's face and laid her down gently beside the body of Rin Tohsaka.
Shirou Emiya trudged forth as if on autopilot. His body screeched with the heavy grinding of an old rusted iron gate. His limbs moving less like that of a man and more like that of an old, worn out piece of machinery. Toward the Blackened Holy Grail.
And as in so many timelines, Kirei Kotomine stood in the path of Shirou Emiya.
But unlike in so many timelines, there were no words to be exchanged.
"Kirei . . . Kotomine," Shirou Emiya breathed out like an incantation. Emptier than he had ever been save for the night of the fire that had forged him. There was nothing left to be said.
Kotomine beat into his opponent's frame, destroying his own hands in order to destroy his opponent and he nearly succeeded until his own body failed. The body of a literally heartless man.
Kotomine smiles. "What folly, Shirou Emiya. A meaningless battle between meaningless men for a meaningless thing. But still, I envy you tasting pure happiness even briefly, though it eluded me my whole life. But I cannot hate you, for you are unlike Kiritsugu. I never thought I would feel brighter than when I fought that man, but it seems life does still have its surprises." He chuckled. "As the impartial overseer, I declare you the victor of the Fifth Holy Grail War. Go now, and claim your wish, my boy."
Kotomine sounded almost proud Shirou Emiya. He passed with a smile on his face
Shirou Emiya had nothing to say. His broken mind registered the man's words but could find their meaning nor their purpose. But his smile seemed almost genuine.
He walked part the corpse of the fake priest.
Shirou Emiya approached his target. The great pillar of darkness and malice that threatened to birth All the World's Evils, Angra Mainyu.
Avenger.
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Nonononononono!
So close. It was so close.
Diediediediediediedieidie!
Kiritsugu Emiya tried years before and awakened in Avenger something it hadn't known it had the ability to feel.
Hate. Pure unquantifiable hate for Emiya.
Kilkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill!
At its a core was an unexpectedly human desire. To exist. To live.
Just as that priest had predicted.
And Emiya had tried to deny it that. Tried to crush it with hope.
Diediediediediekillkillkillkillkill!
It wanted to kill everything. Everything that Emiya strove to protect. Everything that he sacrificed his mind, body, and soul for.
Emiya's scion raised his hands mechanically and beads of turquoise light came together, forming longsword with a precious and potent golden blade that outshone the sun. Hope made incarnate. The natural enemy of the creature that was evil incarnate.
It was an imitation. A pathetic piece of work that wouldn't have entered the world were it not for Avenger's descension; were not the planet about to end.
Nonononononononononono!
EmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiya!
Diediediediediediediediedie!
EmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiyaEmiya!
DieEmiyaDieEmiyaDieEmiyaDieEmiyaDieEmiyaDieEmiyaDieEmiya!
Avenger would not be denied its existence. Not again.
Shirou Emiya's arms fell like cut trees, and the imitation of Excalibur fell with it, its tip formed an arc. A single disgustingly bright golden beam surged forth as a tidal wave of hope.
Avenger's form, the Greater Grail engulfed in the light fell to dust. It could not manifest, but it would find a place it could.
It would not be denied again.
Avenger gathered the last of its limitless magic, reached into the Root and tore and ripped its way to safety from the light of hope.
It flew and rocketed and fled into the vast expanse that was infinity guided by only its darkness and rage. It had no place mind. Simply, that it would be allowed to be born. It tore through reality and worlds and it slowed as it fell through reality.
And it fell.
It fell into an embrace of absolute bliss.
Darkness.
Darkness everywhere.
Pain and negativity.
Yes.
Yes.
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It was an anomaly like no other.
Salem, the Queen at Evernight Castle felt something enter her domain.
"You Grace!"
Arthur Watts burst into the main hall panicked and calling out for her. His eyes widened in worry, his mustached furrowed as he fumbled for words.
"I know," she silenced him with a subtle hiss. "Gather the others and meet me outside."
Invaders were rare in the Land of Darkness and rarer still that made it so close to her castle. She had to be sure her domain remained uncompromised.
She stepped outside, into the dark air of her lands and walked to her Pools of Darkness that spawned her Grimm. Salem was flanked by the three senior members of her court while her junior was completing her own important mission.
Arthur Watts, Hazel Rainhart, and Tyrian Callows knew better than to disturb their Queen when her mind was focused, though Tyrian hissed as he followed his Goddess clearly wanting to say something but held his tongue.
Hazel was diligently following, his steps purposeful and measured.
Watts tried to maintain his composure with his hands folded behind his back, but his steps were small and hasty.
They approached the pools of black warily.
In one of them was a structure the likes of which Salem had never seen. It seemed like some sort of blackened coral or rubble, but alive. It pulsed and glowed as if something was trying to get out. It wasn't terribly large, but it was eerie.
Her three lieutenants were already backing away clutching their skulls. The thing released a signal of sorts. Made the air heavy with it. All were assaulted by thoughts of fear and vulgarity, but Salem pushed it back with her own will.
Salem was undeterred of course. She had been steeped in such thoughts for far too long to ever be weighed down by them again.
"What are you?" she questioned slowly but firmly. She waded through the pool, towards the thing. In an almost motherly manner, Salem placed her hands on the thing and was drawn in. Hypnotized by it almost. It was dark and violent and yet had a strange allure to it. It reminded here eerily of the younger of the bastard gods that damned her eons ago. But this thing felt far purer. Almost like a child.
Salem smiled. There was power here. Power perhaps to shatter the endless game she had been forced into.
Yes.
She turned back to her lieutenants. "Arthur. Hazel. Tyrian."
Each of them stood at attention as their names were called.
"Come inside. We have a new project."
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An old man sat in a void. Stars reeled overhead and below, and infinity was the man's palette.
He was in an elaborate chair and wore rich black robes over his thin but worked frame. He had a grey beard and swept back hair. He was the Old Man of the Jewels. The wielder of the Second Magic.
"KALEIDOSCOPE!" a great sound boomed, and the old man known as Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg sighed deeply.
He opened his eyes and in a flash of stars, before him were two tall beings, one of golden light and the other of vivid darkness. They had no mouths, and for eyes only two glowing openings in their faces. The being of dark had two dangerous ram horns atop his head, while the being of light wore a crown of heavy antlers.
"I know, I know," Zelretch tiredly waved them down. "Don't get your horns in a twist."
The dark one growled at him. "'Our horns in a twist'?! You senile, arrogant —"
"Brother," the golden being sternly silenced him.
Zelretch simply sat amused. For gods were always amusing.
The dark one stopped his tirade but leveled what appeared to be glare at his brother.
"Lovely to see you both as well," Zelretch quipped.
"You know of what has occurred," the golden one said. "An interloper from outside our world has appeared."
"And has against all odds landed in my old domain." The dark one chimed.
"Which has since been commandeered by Salem. We cannot return as per our word, but as an observer of the multiverse you cannot simply allow this to be," the golden one stated with gravity. "How will you remedy this?"
Zelretch hummed deliberately. "If you're expecting me to go down there personally, then you can take a hike," he said almost bored.
"What was that?!" the dark one stepped forward.
"It's as I said. Any events of any world that I directly observe and interfere with will become — how shall we say? — canonized across all iterations of that world. At any rate you gave your word. Ozzy wasn't getting any help or miracles. He's on his own."
"Indeed, that is what we said," the golden one acknowledged. "But the issue still remains. We cannot break our word and yet the destiny of our world has been altered. The test we placed on them has been changed."
"Ah, but not broken," Zelretch pointed out.
The two beings looked towards each other as if to mull over the implications for a moment.
"We cannot solve the problem for them then," the dark one hummed. "So, we must simply add another piece to the board. A counter to that thing," he practically spat. "A God of Darkness. As if that pathetic slime has any claim to that title."
The dark one sounded almost offended. And perhaps rightly so. Very amusing indeed.
Zelretch leaned back in his chair. He was not blind. He knew he had to do something the second that thing entered the multiverse. How pathetic. After hundreds of years, his foolish students failed to get their precious ritual to work and somehow ended up corrupting the Grail with that disgusting abomination. Sometimes he wondered if he should've gone to check on them. But he'd seen it play out enough times, so he knew there was nothing to worry about. Until now.
He knew it was possible, but possible didn't mean probable. It wasn't complicated though. He didn't even have to destroy it where it was. No, he simply had to balance the scales.
"Yes, yes, my foolish students are to blame. But if you want to rebalance the scales of your world, I know just the thing." He held out had with a determined smile and all around, windows opened playing scenes of a red-headed idiot who was betrayed by his ideals and choices. "He is young and tormented but is perfectly placed in history to oppose our problem."
The beings of light and dark absorbed the information of the man known as Shirou Emiya through the windows. They comprehended every aspect of him. His powers, his life, and the very nature of his existence.
"He will do." The golden one said after a moment.
"Can't be any worse than Ozma." The dark one snarked.
Zelretch laughed at that. It seemed this would be interesting after all.
% x % x %
His body, mind, and soul had crumbled and fractured as he summoned forth his pale imitation of Excalibur, the golden blade of the King of Knights, the Sword of Promised Victory.
A Noble Phantasm and Divine Construct. Under normal circumstances, even attempting to reproduce that magnificent item would have killed him, let alone trying to wield it. But it was a Last Phantasm forged by the planet to defend it, and with the planet on the verge of destruction by Avenger, it offered its power. It was a mere fraction of the real thing, but it did the job. That was all that mattered.
It was meaningless by now to Shirou Emiya. With her gone. But it had to be done. It was what she would have wanted. And that was all that mattered.
He succumbed and fell to the cavern floor.
Or he was supposed to.
He felt something hard against his face. Or was it soft?
It felt lying on his bed, but the material was all wrong. It didn't feel like a mattress at all. It was dense and hard like concrete and yet it didn't pain him at all. It was strange.
"I'm dead."
"Not quite," the voice of an old man echoed in his ears. "But you gave it your best shot."
Shirou's eyes widened stood up shakily, but with strength. His body felt better than it had in ages.
His mind broke. Not literally this time, but it felt like it.
Stars and infinite warm blackness swirled all around him and he was standing on some great white arena. He was sure his mouth was hanging open rather stupidly, but he didn't care at the moment.
His looked at the old man in elaborate chair and black robes with a twinkle in his eye and mischievous smile. "Wha– who– I–". It seemed forming full sentences was still beyond him.
"You needn't worry boy, you aren't in any danger. Well, yet."
Shirou sputtered again, "who —"
The old man chuckled briefly. "Every magus worth his cent knows on your world. Here, perhaps this will help."
The old man held out a strange knife made of some crystalline substance filled all colors imaginable. Shirou's mind, made for interpreting blades and their history instantly understood what that was with a single glance. He and Illya managed to produce a shoddy replica of it after all.
He turned his gaze back to the man. "Ki– Kischur Zelretch," Shirou breathed out disbelieving. Which was silly, as it was all happening in front of him. "But why– the Grail War, I–" Shirou froze. It all came flooding back.
Shirou clutched at his hair. "Sakura, Sakura, Fuji-nee, Rin, Illya. I– I—!" he collapsed to his knees. Tears falling down his face as the grief threatened to break him. But this time it didn't. And it made everything that much worse.
Shirou rocked on the ground on knees and cried.
Cried like he had never cried before.
He didn't know how long he stayed on his knees. How long he wept in the expanse of infinity, but there was no escaping from his deeds now. It was as Archer said, his crimes would judge him, and he couldn't even escape into death.
He breathed deeply trying to steady himself but failed, for the pain assaulted him again. He wished he was dead. Sakura dead by his hand, when he swore to protect her. Rin, Saber, Fuji-nee, Illya. It was all meaningless. Their sacrifices meaningless
And thus, Shirou Emiya was meaningless.
He was jolted out by a warm had on his shoulder. He looked at the face Zelretch who wore a sad but sympathetic smile on his face. There was no reason it should've made him feel better. But it did. Perhaps there was some Sorcery involved.
Shirou stood again and faced the old Magus.
Shirou sighed again and wiped his face. His thoughts clearer and more ordered now. He didn't know what the old man did. His pain was not gone. It was there is powerful as ever, but it did not threaten to overwhelm him as before.
Shirou breathed deeply and finally spoke to Zelretch. "Why am I here? Why did you save me?"
"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked slowly.
Shirou became somber again. "I destroyed the Grail, after Sakura . . ."
"Yes." The old man bowed his head in kindness. "I don't expect you shall forgive yourself for it anytime soon. But you are not weak Shirou Emiya," Zelretch stated firmly.
Shirou scoffed. "I failed to save anyone I set out to save, because I just wasn't up to the task. That's the definition of weakness."
"Yes. That is true. But weakness is a complicated thing. And beating yourself up over failing at something you were never meant to do is just counterproductive," Zelretch rattled. "You were pulled into a mess you had no business being within ten feet of and made it further that anyone else could have."
Shirou hummed at the words. There was confidence in the old man's voice and Shirou could not agree, but he couldn't find in himself to disagree either. It seems his thoughts weren't as unjumbled as he hoped.
"What is going on? Why am I here?" Shirou asked seriously.
"That is difficult to explain, I'm afraid."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that your fight isn't over yet." Zelretch looked him with severity.
"My fight?" Shirou tilted his head questioningly.
"Yes," Zelretch nodded firmly. "There is still a battle to be fought for you, and they will help explain it," Zelretch inclined his chin over Shirou's shoulder.
He turned around and he was certain that his jaw was hanging open again. Two tall beings, one of pure golden light with a crown of antlers, and the other of harsh darkness with a pair of vicious ram horns, stood apart from each other gazing down on him with two openings in their faces he could only assume were substitutes for their eyes. "Wha– bu–" and he was babbling again.
"Do you plan to have another meltdown boy?" the dark one snapped at him.
"Brother, please," the golden one said. "He has just been through something traumatic and been pulled into something just as momentous. It is to be expected that his emotions are not as controlled."
Shirou sputtered and turned back to Zelretch who simply smiled apologetically at him and shrugged.
Shirou turned back to the two.
"Tch," the dark one scoffed. "This boy is just a piece we are throwing in to keep the balance. We don't need to bother with all the theatrics."
"It is important that the boy know what he is walking into, if he is to have a chance. The balance cannot be restored if he falls too early in the fight," the golden one explained to his brother.
"What fight?" Shirou finally asked. "What am I up against?"
"The same being that you have always been against Shirou Emiya," the golden one sighed sadly.
Shirou's eyes widened and his fists shook. "Avenger," he growled. "But how? I destroyed the Grail and its contents. It can't be born ever."
"That isn't entirely true boy," Zelretch said carefully. "You did well, and prevented it from being birthed on your world but . . ."
"It can still manifest on another. Ours," the golden one's tone was heavy.
Shirou turned slowly back to the two being in the void. He was beginning to understand. "Then you two are . . ."
"We are gods, Shirou Emiya. I am the God of Light and my brother, the God of Darkness." Said brother inclined his chin.
"A real God of Darkness," the God of Darkness declared proudly.
"Gods . . . from another world." Shirou was dumbstruck to say the least. His life had never been normal but this far transcended anything he could have ever imagined for himself.
"Yes," the God of Light nodded. "The world my brother and I created has been accessed without our approval, by the creature you call Avenger."
"What?!" Shirou suddenly had much more focus as he latched on that particular topic.
The God of Darkness crossed arms. "Yes. That disgusting slime managed to save a small piece of itself before your last attack was able to finish the job, and sent itself through time and space to the Remnant of our world."
"It would not be so problematic, had it not arrived precisely in the domain of the enemy of humanity," Light said.
"'Enemy of humanity'?" Shirou inclined his head.
"Yes. Had it landed anywhere else it would have died from exposure without something to sustain it. But the domain of humanity's enemy is filled with darkness and hate. It is ideal for it to continue its birthing process."
He was overwhelmed. This was too much at once. So, he decided to start with the easiest piece of information. Avenger had survived. Or at least a piece of it had and shunted itself to another world to escape Excalibur's light. Next, the precise location on that world would allow it for it be birthed and when that happened, the inhabitants of another world would have to face Shirou had.
It stirred something in him. Guilt yes, for if he had been stronger, Avenger would've been destroyed completely. But there was something else as well. A feeling that simply sitting out this fight would be unacceptable for Shirou Emiya. He had sacrificed more that he had to give to destroy Avenger. The creature that had tormented him and those he loved, and it still lived out there somewhere.
"Tell me more about this world," Shirou declared to the three beings with enough power to wipe him from existence with a thought.
Zelretch smiled. And even the gods seemed pleased despite the fact that it couldn't show on their faces.
"It's a hell of a tale boy, it would be better if we showed you." The old wizard said.
The God of Light held out a hand and the star platform around Shirou blended together in a whirlwind of color and energy until it fled and faded, and he was standing a vast field before a single tower. He turned to see a man charge inside, dressed in green and armor, wielding an elaborate staff with an emerald at the top.
Whoever this man was, watching him reminded Shirou of the night he summoned Saber. There something distinctly heroic about him.
But the was only the beginning of the tale.
Shirou followed it all very closely. Ozma's rescue of Salem, their profound love, Ozma's unceremonious passing, Salem's grief-induced actions, and the punishment the gods forced upon her for it.
To Shirou it seemed more like a divine prank.
Though, he was disturbed by how Salem manipulated the masses into rebelling against their creators only to lead the entire populace of the planet to extinction by the gods' wrath.
Shirou couldn't help but pity her. She was pathetic and tragic and sad all at once. And then came the moment of her corruption and Shirou was unbalanced by the resemblance Salem bore to her.
Shirou watched as she tormented the second of iteration of humanity brought to bear by the Gold of Light's "mercy."
But it was all a joke. They were doomed to fail.
Ozma was allowed to return but it was obvious to Shirou, that is was a small boon and the Relics like less of a gift and more a taunt or a challenge to humanity.
It was all one big joke.
Worse still, he was moved by it all. Something about the fates of Salem and Ozma resonated with Shirou and touched something inside him.
"So, Shirou Emiya," Light began. "Will you take up this task? Will you journey to an unfamiliar world to finish your battle?"
Shirou wanted to laugh. Now they were just patronizing him. They obviously didn't even need his consent, seeing as how they brought him here. But it didn't matter because they knew that he wouldn't refuse anyway. There was so much more he wanted to tell them. What he thought of their world and what he thought of them. But he decided against it. He had more pressing concerns after all.
"I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"No, you don't," Darkness said bluntly.
Shirou scowled at him but the god simply seemed amused.
Light spoke again. "We took the liberty of restoring your mind and body. We even stabilized your connection to the Counter Guardian's limb, but I would caution you against being reckless with it. It is still the power of a higher-level being and must be treated with respect."
Shirou clenched his left hand. His left hand. The god was telling the truth. The left arm now had Shirou's original complexion and the hard, rippling muscles of the Counter Guardian were replaced with the lean and sharp build of the rest of Shirou's body.
The arm of Archer was no longer the destructive tool it had been. As he felt the magic flowing through the magic circuits of the limb, he could already see more of Archer's weapons than he had ever been able to. More than that though, and perhaps more importantly was the knowledge. Shirou could sift through it almost as easily as his own memories. Tactics, experiences, even feelings; it was all open to him like some metaphysical encyclopedia.
Not to mention his own magic circuits were also restored and didn't feel like he'd fried them just recently. Magical energy flowed from his own circuits to the ones in Archer's arm unhindered. It was indeed potent. Whatever Shirou thought of their character, the power of these gods was very real.
Shirou clenched his left hand a few times. His mind was clearer than it been since the start of the Grail War. And he knew what he to do.
"I ask you again Shirou Emiya. Will you go to the Remnant of our world and face your foe again?" the God of Light asked him. Shirou had no choice in the matter, of course. They'd already patched him up. They didn't need his consent; this was all just a show. And he still had one thing that he needed.
"Yes, I will do it. But I have a request."
"A what?!" The God of Darkness now was angered. Not surprising really. Who was Shirou Emiya to ask anything of these being before them? "We didn't even have to give you this much, you miserable whelp! And now you've the gall to demand more?!"
"Yes. And I will not compromise on it for anything."
The God of Darkness looked like he wanted to turn him to dust then and there. The God of Light seemed perplexed more than anything else. As if he couldn't comprehend why Shirou was asking this. But even he seemed ready snap his fingers and send him on his way.
In the end it was Zelretch who stopped things before they erupted into something unnecessary.
"What is it you desire boy?" he asked with sympathetic eyes.
Shirou turned to the Old Man of the Jewels. "I don't suppose you can bring back the dead."
Both gods growled at that but Zelretch simply shook his head sadly.
He'd figured.
Shirou closed his eyes, and then opened them again. "In that case. I want you to save my sister," he said in a tone leaving no room for compromise.
Zelretch scratched his beard as he hummed. "Justeaze's descendant? Ah yes, she helped forge that copy of my sword, didn't she? She's a competent little thing. It would be a shame if she died because those stiff Germans didn't bother to do a proper job with her."
Shirou nodded solemnly. "I can't save her. I don't think I ever could have, but I don't want her to die yet. She deserves to live a full life, even if I can't be a part of it."
A great smiled appeared on the old wizard. "You've got yourself a deal boy. I've still got enough pull with the Mage's Association to make it happen."
"And will you tell her? Of what is happening?" Shirou asked carefully.
Zelretch's eyes widened for the briefest instant and then his smile was back. Small but reassuring. "Yes boy. I will tell her. You both deserve that much at least."
"Thank you," Shirou intoned. He felt a stinging in his eyes, and he had a feeling it wasn't dust. He couldn't save anyone. Sakura, Rin, and Fuji-nee were gone. But Illya could be saved. He wouldn't be there to see it. He wouldn't be there to enjoy it, but she would live, and she would move forward and find happiness. "Thank you," he said again.
The Old Man nodded deeply.
They turned back to the gods who looked like they'd calmed down.
"What must I do?" Shirou asked.
"Not die instantly," the God of Darkness snapped.
The God of Light's response was a bit more helpful. "It will be a difficult road for you. Sending you directly into the Domain of Darkness as you are would only result in your death. Instead we will send you somewhere else. You must seek Ozma and join his quest. This is a battle that neither of you can hope to fight alone and are intertwined in ways that are beyond anyone's understanding."
"I met Ozzy, a while back," Zelretch added flippantly. "Just tell him I sent you, and it should all be fine."
"Truthfully, we cannot see which form your foe will take," Light said. "You destroyed most of it and robbed it of its capacity to end humanity, at least on its own. But allied with Salem, there is no telling what will happen. It may test the people Remnant more than they may be prepared for."
"Basically, you'll have to figure it out on your own brat," Darkness snarled at him. "Don't expect any last-minute saves. You're not some 'chosen one.' Whether you succeed or die or some combination of the two is in your hands only."
Shirou digested the gravity of his situation. An unfamiliar world, unfamiliar enemies, a shadow war between the forces for good and chaos. It was something out of one of Fuji-nee's anime.
There was no going back from this. His old life would never come back. There weren't many things he would miss. But those that he would, would move on. And so, would he.
He had failed to save those he loved. He had cast aside his ideal to be a Hero of Justice and he did not regret it. But Avenger still lived. And he could not allow it to manifest.
"I'll do it. I will go to your world and finish what I started."
It was in every cell of his body. The momentum and feeling of responsibility to do something. He could not leave his task unfinished.
He turned back to Zelretch and nodded.
"Remember boy. Remember who your true enemy is."
Before Shirou could question what that meant, Zelretch smiled one last time, snapped his fingers, and in blur of light and colors, Shirou Emiya flew through infinity to his next battle.
% x % x %
The Old Man of the Jewels sat back in his chair with a sigh. "And there we go. You idiots happy now?"
"Don't push your luck you old vampire," the so-called God of Darkness snapped. "This is all your fault to begin with."
"Oh, calm down you big oaf," he snapped back. "Don't make this sound like some irreversible disaster. Besides, worst comes to worst, you'll just blow up the planet, won't you?" he added with a sneer.
"We would rather it not come to that, but yes, if the threat cannot be contained we will have no choice." The God of Light faced him fully. "Why did you grant the boy's request?"
"Because it's no skin off my nose to save one little girl."
"He would have to go to Remnant anyway. The odds of them being reunited are so slim they may as well be nonexistent. Is it not cruel to save her and yet be eternally separated from the one she loves?"
Who are you to talk?
Zelretch chuckled mirthlessly. "For all your power, you gods can be surprisingly thick. If you took a chance to actually get to know people, you'd see that sometimes proximity isn't the same as closeness. Simply knowing that someone is out there and pushing on, is enough to see you through."
"I do not understand," Light stated simply.
"Sounds like pointless drivel," Darkness added.
Zelretch sighed disappointedly. It was as he suspected.
"Well, nonetheless the issue is dealt with. Rest assured, if anything else crazy happens I'll let you know."
"See that you do. We shall take our leave now. Farewell Kaleidoscope," the golden god bade him.
With that, the two Brother Gods vanished in sparks of light.
"Finally. I thought they'd never leave," the Old Man sighed relieved into the vast expanse.
Gods were pains. But he'd rather not antagonize them more than he had to.
"Welp, better to get on the boy's request. There's a little girl who needs saving." Zelretch got up with a flourish. "Time to make a few calls."
% x % x %
Harbinger in its greatsword form swept out and the three young assailants jumped back to defend themselves. Qrow had come as fast as he could, but a crow could only fly so fast, and his legs carry him only so long.
Qrow growled under his breath. The faces of the three assailants were blurred.
Semblance probably. Annoying. He knew things were bad as soon the young woman in red spread out her arms and orange flames flickered around her blurred right eye. Qrow could swear she was smirking.
Well fuck.
And then, everything went out the window.
There was a formation of flickering light and color above the young woman with Maiden powers, and then something fell on top of her, and she tumbled to the ground with a yelp. It would have been funny if it weren't so bizarre.
The blurring was gone on their faces.
He could see them clearly now.
But his eyes and mind were on something else. What in the hell?
"Cinder!" The green haired girl went to leader's side who was dusting herself off indignantly, and the three of them leapt back down the trail, cautiously observing the thing writhing on the dirt.
It was a boy in a simple t-shirt and jeans with red hair. He looked unremarkable and wouldn't have drawn any attention on a normal day, were it not for the fact he had just dropped on top of the Maiden's assailants in a weird flash of a light.
The boy groaned as he stood up. "Ahhh, what the hell?" The kid sounded annoyed. And he could speak properly. Good. The kid looked around him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Another world, I'm actually on another world."
'What the hell' was right. So, he wasn't entirely lucid. Great.
The boy grabbed his skull and shook himself. It looked he trying to get his bearings straight. "Alright, another world. I need to find Ozma. And Salem, help fight Salem, okay," the kid rambled on.
But Qrow's eyes went wide. Salem. The kid knew about Salem.
The kid seemed to spot him finally. And his eyes went wide and panicked. Clearly, he realized he wasn't alone and everyone in the area had heard his rambling.
Everyone. Shit.
The assailants were still there down the trail.
He looked back to them and they seemed to have gathered their bearings as well, as the new Maiden shot a rather sizable fireball at him.
"Get down!" Qrow tackled the new red-head to the ground for his own safety.
The kid looked in the direction of the assailants. "Magic. She has magic, a lot of it." The boy breathed out seemingly in awe.
"Wait, how do you–" Qrow was interrupted as he dodged another fireball and scooped Amber his arms. The kid himself deftly rolled out of the way and instantly leapt to his feet.
Qrow placed Amber behind him gently while readying his greatsword again. He leveled a glare at his opponents. The one with powers seemed particularly enraged.
She sent another beam of fire at them. He stood protectively over Amber, hoping his Aura would be enough to take it.
But then, the kid, the damn kid, stepped forward. He held out his arm, clasped with the other.
"Kid! get ba–"
"Rho Aias!" He didn't know what the kid said, but some sort of grand pink shield of light formed in front of them. A grand barrier in the image of a pink four-petaled flower and the flames were stopped cold in the tracks.
Qrow was certain his mouth was hanging open. Seriously, what in the hell was going on!
There was no time to think about it. The lead assailant charged forth wielding a pair mecha-shift dual swords and in the kid's hands, in a flash of turquoise light, a pair of exotic black and white short falchions appeared and he met the young woman head-on in flurry of sparks and marital prowess that even Qrow found impressive.
Qrow himself didn't waste time. He ran in to help the boy only to be forced to block a kick from that silver-haired kid.
Qrow growled.
The green-haired girl came in next and attacked Qrow with a flurry of fast and lethal attacks with a pair of dual green kama. Qrow blocked all of the attacks and kicked her away before attacking the other boy. He dodged all of Harbinger's swings but Qrow seized his opportunity to slam his fist in the boy's face before following up with knee to his stomach. Both were on the ground and neutralized. They were tired and aching from their battle in the Maiden. They had no business fighting anymore anyway
Qrow wasted no time in jumping into the air to get the angle on their leader and swung down into the duel between her and that kid. She kicked the kid away and blocked his attack, pushing him back. He looked to the kid who had regained his bearings. They nodded to one another and attacked again.
Their opponent was skilled without a doubt. Trained well.
Their own attack was uncoordinated but effective. The kid's attacks were fast and aggressive and Qrow used the reach of Harbinger to push her back to force her to put herself at risk to get in a strike.
The kid fought with a grace and ease that bespoke of vast experience. That was good, for it meant Qrow didn't have to waste energy protecting him.
The woman fought very efficiently and held her own. Her technique nearly flawless and precise and deadly. She was fast and light on her feet, but precise and heavy in her blows.
The dance of death continued, the two sides leaping a dodging across the path trying to get the angle on each other.
Qrow and the boy slipped in a rhythm of sorts where his impromptu partner engaged the woman in an exchange of skill and Qrow would blindside her with sweeps from Harbinger.
And it was working. They were restricting her position and limiting her ability to escape. They could win this.
But the woman was growling. She was growing impatient.
Qrow's eyes widened then. All went to hell.
There was a look anger on the young woman's face as she swept her arms and he and the kid were blown back by an impossibly powerful gust of wind as if a tornado erupted between them.
They both were sent flying and hit the ground hard.
Qrow was the first to get himself together as the dust settled. He got up groaning. He reoriented himself as he looked for the assailant, but she was gone. Along with her lackeys.
He then spotted the red-head still on the ground and ran over to him. "Hey kid. You still in one piece?"
"I– I think so." He sat up shaking his head. "What was that? I've never seen wind manipulation of that magnitude done so casually. At least not in a normal person."
Qrow tilted his head. This kid makes no sense.
% x % x %
'Don't die instantly,' they said.
If they didn't want him to die instantly then why had they thrown him into the middle of fight? That seemed counterintuitive. But still, it had been an education.
The few blows that he'd scored on the woman had pushed her back but hadn't cut her. There seemed to be some sort of tight but dense bounded field surrounding her frame. And the man who had fought her alongside him had the same ability.
Was it common here? He had had to adjust accordingly. Shirou's own body was covered in scrapes and shallow cuts, only kept from being lethal by his reinforcements.
He hadn't gotten a chance to focus on their opponent's allies, but they seemed to have a similar ability, but it didn't manifest itself too well. He could only assume they were exhausted given how easily they had fallen.
The next thing Shirou had noticed, was that woman was good. Her technique was as exquisite as it was deadly, and she was faster and stronger than Shirou had expected. He had long since learned in the Grail War that the size of one's opponent didn't determine strength, but that kind strength demonstrated by the woman didn't come easily nor casually.
The second he laid his eyes upon her weapons he had become confused. He understood her fighting style immediately, but its history was blurred. It probably had something to with the fact that it could shift into a bow. But her name, or at least the one she used now, was Cinder Fall. That might be useful.
A cursory glance at his circumstantial ally's weapon, Harbinger, revealed that it could mechanically turn into gun and a scythe. Was it normal for weapons to have multiple forms? Because that was just weird.
Nonetheless, he could smell magic in the air. The woman had it. It smelled of ash and cinders. The man also had a miniscule amount. It smelled of old bird. And there was the unconscious woman, her magic smelled of grass and trees. And their opponent's allies did not give off any magical scent. He found that strange, given the apparently common ability to summon up some kind of dense bounded field as a form of invisible armor.
The way the woman casually manipulated the elements was also disturbing. No incantation, no set-up. The elements bent to her will with a mere thought. Dangerous.
And then, she was gone after unleashing that tornado, likely to cover the escape of herself and her allies.
And he was now talking to the man who had remained. His weapon's history revealed that the man's name was Qrow Branwen. He was dressed oddly. A grey shirt and small red cape down his back. He had swept-back hair and red eyes and reeked of alcohol. It was like something out of a video game.
Shirou had just remarked offhandedly on the casual wind manipulation that their opponent demonstrated, and the man seemed at a loss for words.
Luckily, Qrow Branwen had finally settled on an easier topic for discussion
The man shook his head. "Alright, let's start small. What's your name kid?"
"Shirou, Shirou Emiya," he replied evenly.
"'Shirou' huh? Yeah, I have a buddy named Shiro down in Mistral. You from around there?"
"I have never heard of Mistral," Shirou said directly.
"Yeah. Of course, you haven't. Why not." Qrow muttered to himself as pinched his eyes.
"And you are?" Shirou prompted for show.
The man hesitated. "Name's Qrow kid. Qrow Branwen," he replied after a moment. He wasn't unguarded, however.
Well, at least the man trusted him enough to share his name. But this conversation was going nowhere, very quickly. Of course, considering neither of knew what to say, it was to be expected.
Then Qrow's widened. "Shit. Amber!" He ran back on to the path over the where the unconscious woman was. Qrow fretted over her, checking her pulse and her breathing.
Shirou himself approached warily. The young woman had olive skin, short brown hair in a bob-cut, and was dressed in a white blouse, and elaborate brown vest with pieces of bronze armor over her body.
And there was scarring on her face. As if she had been burned. It was concentrated on the left side of her face.
He knelt down as Qrow began to panic. "She's barely breathing. I'll call a transport to pick her up."
He pulled out a device that vaguely remined Shirou of cellphone, tapped it few times and sent away. "Transport will be here. It's gonna take time, but if they want to stay off the grid there's nothing else for it."
"Is this woman important to you?" Shirou asked after a moment.
Qrow looked at him almost confused and them thoughtful. "Well, sort of. I know her but we were never too close. She is important though. To a lot of people. For better or for worse." He sounded tired as he finished.
Shirou looked the woman over. Her breathing was as shallow as Qrow made it out to be and there was a ghastly wound on her back. It looked like she'd been hit by an arrow. The telltale rise and fall of chest non-existent and her pulse was far too weak.
This was bad.
"Is it because of her magic?" Shirou asked suddenly.
Qrow looked at him wide eyes and his expression suddenly became serious. "Okay kid. How do you even know about that?"
Shirou tilted his head. That's right. The gods had taken magic from these people. And only two people alive were supposed to have it as far as he knew. And this woman, Amber was not one of them and nor was Qrow Branwen.
"You have magic too," Shirou said to him. He watched as the man backed away and his stance lowered slightly. A hand resting on the hilt of Harbinger. Shirou continued undeterred. "It's miniscule compared to this woman's, but it's there. Without a doubt."
"What the hell are you?" There was threat in the man's voice.
Shirou thought for a moment and decided that he needed to unbalance the man. "I can sense magic, or any supernatural phenomena for that matter," he replied innocently. It had the intended effect.
"You can what?" Confusion. Perfect.
"I can–"
"I heard you the first time!" Qrow snapped. "I meant how."
"That's complicated."
"'Complicated' my–!"
"We need to save this woman first."
"Don't change the damn subject! And I told you a transport is on its way."
"And who is sending it?"
"I'll keep that to myself for now," the man sneered.
Shirou leveled a stern gaze at him and continued with his tactic. "Magic isn't common from what I understand. And there should be only two beings in this world capable of using it in any capacity. I can only assume one or both of them have something to do with you, this woman, and her assailant having it as well."
Qrow's eyes narrowed. But he also looked worried. So, Shirou was on the right path it seemed.
Shirou hadn't gleaned much of the man's history from his glance at Harbinger, but his actions said much about his loyalties. "I'm going to assume you don't work for the one known as Salem."
"Not in a million years," Qrow replied instantly. In fact, he sounded almost offended by the insinuation. Now, we're getting somewhere.
"So. You work for Ozma."
Qrow blinked as his expression became confused once more. "Ozpin?"
Shirou furrowed his brow. He had been told that Salem's enemy was called Ozma, and this man before him obviously was opposed to Salem. Had Ozma changed his name? It made sense, given that he reincarnates.
"I suppose so. Can you take me to him?"
Qrow dropped his guard but the hostility was still there. "I can, but why should I?"
"Because, I was told to seek him out," Shirou said honestly. "I have a mission that I need to accomplish, and it intertwines with his. I was told that we would be able to help each other."
"And what mission is that?"
"I'd like discuss that with your leader first."
"Yeah. You're gonna have to do better than that."
Shirou locked eyes with the man. He'd rather not break into a fight and he needed to meet this Ozpin, whom Shirou was sure had to be Ozma. Shirou sighed and spoke again, "The enemy has unwittingly acquired a new ally of sorts, that can turn the tide of this game in her favor. Maybe permanently. I have a history with this entity and was chosen to join this fight because of it."
Qrow's eye went wide. "What kind of entity?" he asked warily.
"The inhuman, wipe-out-all-of-humanity kind."
Qrow's eyes narrowed. "Like some kind of super-grimm?"
"Worse. Much worse."
Qrow just looked skeptical. Shirou didn't blame him. His story would have sounded ridiculous to his own ears if he hadn't lived through it already. "And why the hell should I believe you?"
A valid question. Luckily, Shirou had an answer. "Because, I can save her." Shirou gestured to the unconscious woman.
Qrow blinked at him. "Come again."
"I can save her," Shirou repeated. "You said she is important. And I think you'd rather have her alive and well, rather than unconscious and likely eventually dead."
They both knew it was true. She was on death's door and there wasn't much that could be done. Which made Shirou's offer all the more valuable.
Shirou and Qrow locked glares for a moment. Which would crack first?
"And how do you plan save her?" Qrow finally asked with no small amount of suspicion.
The fact he was even entertaining the notion meant Shirou's assessment was correct. This woman was important and needed to be fully functioning.
"I have a powerful healing agent. It was once used to bring me back from the brink of death. It can do the same for her." Now, that was something Shirou wasn't a hundred percent certain about, but it was the only card he had to play. And though he was loathe to part with Avalon, in the end it was a tool.
Qrow chuckled mirthlessly. "Holding my ally's life over my head as a hostage? That's cold kid."
"I know."
A moment passed.
Finally, Qrow sighed. "Fine. Work your magic," he said sardonically.
Shirou nodded and got to work.
Shirou knelt and brought his hands to his chest. The woman's strength was failing, and her magic felt torn. There something wrong with her. Whatever those assailants did to her was fundamentally wrong. He concentrated on what lay within him. The ultimate healing agent which Kiritsugu used to save him so many years ago. It had to have enough power to do this.
Shirou had cast aside his ideals to save the one he loved most. But he failed there. He tried to destroy the being that was responsible for her suffering, but it still lived. That was why he was on Remnant. To complete his task.
And not to mention, it was too much for him to leave someone to die callously. Whether he was a hero or not was irrelevant, for some propensities were too deeply ingrained into him. Even Archer at his worst always tried to make sure people didn't die needlessly.
It was the same for Shirou Emiya.
In golden brightness, a brilliant and grand sheath materialized from his chest and into his hands. A sheath of pure gold, decorated with blue enamel, and engraved with lettering of the fae.
"Holy . . ." Qrow breathed in awe.
That's right.
Avalon, the Everdistant Utopia. The greatest Noble Phantasm of the King of Knights that made her nigh-unkillable in life. It could heal any and all ailments so long as it was supplied with her prana. She was no longer here, and that fact brought a certain sadness to Shirou, but that did not mean she could not help. Residual traces of Saber's magical energy still filled the Holy Relic.
It was enough when Kiritsugu used it to save him that fateful night so long ago, and it would have to be enough now.
Shirou allowed the Sheath to hover over Amber's prone form and willed it to sink into her. And sink it did. It was beautiful sight. It glowed a brilliant gold lowered itself and without any aid nor injury it sank into Amber's body. She herself lay uninjured and undisturbed.
Avalon now lay within her, and he could only hope it did the job. Qrow meanwhile stood there with a dumbstruck expression.
For a few moments there was nothing.
Amber was as still as ever.
Had it failed? The thought made him panic for some reason.
And then he saw it. The rise and fall of Amber's chest. Her breathing increased and stabilized.
Qrow rushed over to her side and placed to fingers to her neck.
"I don't believe it. Her pulse is normal, she's breathing normally. All her wounds and those burns — it's like they were never there." Qrow looked back at Shirou in equal parts awe and fear. Good. "Kid. Where in the hell did you come from? What are you?"
Shirou gathered as much seriousness as he could muster. What was the harm? "I am a mage from a parallel dimension, sent here by a wizard who watches over the multiverse." Shirou wore a dead serious smirk as he said this.
Qrow blinked at him.
And then blinked at him again.
And again.
He was still and unmoving for a long moment. Shirou wondered if he hadn't shut down completely. That was bad because Shirou needed the man in possession of his senses.
Then, Qrow pulled out his flask and took several long swigs.
% x % x %
% x % x %
Thank you for reading. Please feel free to comment and leave constructive criticism.
A/N: I decided to start this fic after reading Heroes, Dreams, and Destiny by, Lord of Penguin, as well as Noctis de Cadere, Noctis de Hiems by, spiderslayer42. Both of these fics have influenced this one, so if you see an similar ideas, know that the credit goes to those writers, not to me. Be sure to check them out.