A/N: sorry about that first time. Turns out I should probably preview things before posting them.
Disclaimer: first fanfiction I've ever written. Constructive criticism is greatly welcomed
I don't own Fate or DxD. They belong to their respective owners
Let's get some things out of the way first.
This Shirou is going to be Heaven's Feel True End Shirou.
I like the world building of DxD and the lore. The Sacred Gear system is incredibly interesting, along with the different factions in the game, both inside the Religion of the Bible and different Religions.
I don't like the story progression, with all the inane buffs and powerups that Issei gets just so that he can be a competitive force since he is pitifully weak. He got like one training arc for his fight against Raiser, and even then, it amounted to very little as he had to sacrifice his arm to get stronger.
I really dislike the Brave Saints. Humans can never become perfect, and that is what makes us human. Angels are beings of perfection and letting humans reincarnate into them is impossible. I'm fine with the Evil Pieces, as devils could expound on the sins of humans, but angels? No way. Plus, I have an idea of what to do with the power disbalance later in the story.
Going to have to change Issei's harem a bit. Sorry Issei.
This story is going to be mostly focused on Heaven and the Angels, and since DxD mainly focuses on the Devils, I have a fair bit of creative freedom. And if the backstory that I make for certain characters aren't cannon, then fuck it, oh well. It's my fanfiction.
While this is going to be rated M since its DxD, I am not planning on writing any lemons yet.
As for updating schedule, its going to be sporadic, I'll be able to get more done over the summer, but I'll attempt to get one out every two or three weeks.
This first chapter is going to be a little shorter than most, but afterwards, I'll try to get 5k-ish words per chapter.
Now that everything's been said, it's time to get this show on the road.
Emiya Shirou was in pain.
That was a massive understatement if he had ever heard one.
He stumbled towards the corrupted grail. The previous fights with Berserker, Saber, and Kirei had drained his body and mind of everything that he could offer. He removed the Shroud of Martin in order to not die against them, but the arm was killing him in their stead. The arm of a heroic spirit would have killed any person immediately. Such was the power and strength of the legends of mankind that reached the Throne of Heroes. The only reason he managed to live was due to the nature of Archer.
Counter Guardian EMIYA. A version of himself that followed Kiritsugu's ideals and dreams. Prompting him to make a contract with Alaya to become a Counter Guardian in order to save more lives. But the only thing that awaited him after death was even more death. The Counter Guardians were only utilized when there was massive death and destruction that even the counter force could not neutralize. It broke him. He wanted out. And so, the only way to do so, was to kill Emiya Shirou that would eventually become him.
His body is made out of swords.
Shirou was unable to fully utilize and bring forth his reality marble, as his was fundamentally different from Archer's. He threw away his ideals for Sakura. Archer kept his even after his death. But that did not mean it was unusable. Nor did it mean he could control it, especially with his weakening mind.
His body was being torn to shreds due to his reality marble. Swords sticking out of multiple parts of his body, with even more swords attempting to stitch his body back together. A grating, screeching sound followed every single one of his movements, as his entire body was slowly being turned into swords. He was no longer human, no, he was a sword in the shape of a human. Or a bundle of swords. Or maybe it was one very long, very squiggly sword?
…He was going insane.
But the pain was bearable. Having many of his nerves being severed might have also helped. Or made it worse, he wasn't too sure. There was no possible way anything would be as painful as the fire that gave birth to him. This pain came close, but it would never surpass what he felt, what he witnessed, during the aftermath of the Fourth Ritual. And endless landscape of fire and death born from the curse of Angra Mainyu. There, Emiya Shirou died for the first time.
But his chest.
Sakura.
The one that he loved. The one that he would do anything for. The one that he would sacrifice the world, and more, for. The one that he gave everything for. The one that he had failed. His greatest regret, a constant reminder of his incompetence. A reminder of his ignorance. He knew her for so long, and yet, he knew nothing. He did nothing. He let her suffer. She masked her pain, her suffering, her violation, her corruption from him, but he would never hate her.
No, instead, he would hate the ones that put her through it. Zouken. Words could not describe how much Shirou wanted to see that man suffer. Shinji. A mere puppet in his grandfathers' machinations, but he still hated him regardless.
He doubted he would ever see her again.
Illya.
His sister. His father's greatest regret. His greatest mistake. Even though they got off to a rock start, she was family. The last that he had left. She was his elder, but he never thought of her in that way; like Fujimura, she never acted her role either. Siblings always protect their younger. And she sacrificed herself instead. He had failed.
Although they both knew that she would be dead by the time the War was over, he still would have helped. A way to extend her life, a way to let her age, and a way for her to live. He wanted to see her smile more, to laugh more. Afterall, children should not have to fight.
He knew that he would never see her again.
Rin.
He had seen fragments of glimpses of memories in Archer's arm. Of what might be and what could have been. Any more and his mind would have collapsed even faster than it already was. It was odd, knowing that he had such an intimate relationship with Rin, but also knowing that he never had such a relationship. He felt like he was cheating on Sakura, but he also knew he was not.
But even then, no one should have to fight their siblings to the death. No one should have to go through the amounts of betrayal that she went through in life. She had nobody left, and here she was, killing her last blood relative.
Saber.
Arturia. The King of Knights. His father's servant. His servant. Another one of his failures. He was weak. Too weak. So, she was consumed. Altered. And then killed by his own hands.
He saw the things that they could have accomplished together. He saw the lives that they lived together. He saw her dream, her regrets, her strengths and weaknesses. But in the end, it did not matter. Since he was too weak. The strengths of the servant don't matter if the master is not a capable one.
Kiritsugu.
The one whose dreams, whose ideals, he received. And then threw away. He couldn't remember the last days of his father, but he remembered the very first time they met. How could he not? The smile of a man that was seemingly saved, instead of the savior.
The dream that Shirou inherited was a beautiful one, in theory, that is. Not everyone can be saved. You have to make sacrifices. Especially if they were ones that were close to you. Neither Kiritsugu nor Archer learned those lessons fast enough. And they both suffered from it.
As the while light of the collapsing grail surrounded him, Shirou was reminiscing of what could have been. His mind too fractured to stop the Counter Guardian's memories from flowing into his mind. Different lives, different ends, different failures. He had many regrets. Too many too count. He refused to die with regrets, like his father, like Archer.
And then Emiya Shirou knew no more.
The Holy Grail knew it was tainted. No, at this point it wasn't mere taint, but full-on corruption by Angra Mainyu. Whatever the Einzberns did in the Third Heaven's Feel to summon avenger removed any safeguards it contained to halt a possible extinction level event. It no longer had control over its wish granting capabilities. Any wish that it would try to enact would instead be used as a means of mass destruction.
The Fourth Heaven's Feel only expounded the problems within the system. There was a victor at the end, but the grail was destroyed. The wish was never enacted. The mana stored within had no place to go, expediting the next ritual, which caused even more prana to be stored within the system.
Technically it still was not complete, as there were still servants that walked the Earth. It required the prana of six servants. Gilgamesh alone constituted three of them. But it had absorbed and stored enough prana to activate its mysteries.
The conditions for victory were met.
But in this case, it was victory for Angra Mainyu. A complete reincarnation into the moral plane in order to avenge those that pinned all of the world's sin onto him. And as All of the World's evils, he would have killed all of humanity. Simple as that. While he was weak towards other servants, he was the greatest killer of humanity. And he would see them suffer.
But the lesser grail's sacrifice managed to purge the corruption from its entirety. It was even the correct lesser grail donning an incomplete form of the Third Magic, not the messy, incomplete, and corrupted mess constructed out of the remains of the Fourth Ritual. Granted it was also being destroyed but for a fraction of a moment, a completed and untainted Holy Grail existed.
Even if it was only for a miniscule moment, that was all the time it needed to enact the mystery it was created to do. The only person it could deem the victor had a wish. It had the prana. Therefore, it acted.
There was a misconception about how the Grail accepted wishes, not told to any of the founding members but only known to the Kaleidoscope. It could not enact the wish of the victors in their world, as it required the fifth sorcery to change history. Instead, it scours the multiverse looking for worlds that would be similar to, if not the same as, its current world if the mystery was enacted there. A single quark could have moved in a different direction, spawning a completely new dimension. An infinite number of worlds, and an infinite number of different kinds of worlds, with the only differences between an infinite number of them being infinitely small or great. And people wonder why the Kaleidoscope acts the way he does.
And punching a hole to reach Akasha? A mere lie created by the Wizard Marshal to attract the more academically inclined masters to actually attempt the war. There is no possible way seven servants had enough prana to pierce through to the Outside of the World, no matter how small the hole is.
But it only had a moment.
Not enough time to scour the infinite infinities of the multiverse to find a perfect fit. But it was enough time to find a compatible destination. The victor was alone. Full of regrets. He had no role. No purpose.
And no will to live without those close to him.
…
It would give him one. People to surround himself with. A goal. A dream. A place where the Age of Gods never ended. A place where he could become a hero. And a conflict that he would have to step in.
After all, a hero needs its villain.
And as the Grail collapsed. As its foundations fell into the magma below. As the mountain it was contained in collapsed in on itself. The Grail sent the victor to some dimension he would l̶i̶v̶e̶,
D̸̢̘̤͕͎͍͈̾̉͑̇́͝Ī̸͙̫̞̺͇̘̞͍̝͖̑̊͂͜ͅE̷͇̰̍͐͌͋̋͗̈͘͜ D̵̦̟͚͉̏̌̃̌̐͋͋̎͝I̴̖̤̤͖͎̱̪̰͌̀̀̚͝ͅE̵̹͔̥̐̀́͂̊ ̴̢̼̩̪̜̗̯̓̈͋͐̈́̓͒͆͝ D̶̶̷̸̸̡̺̣̹̙͇̄̓̓̄͜͝I̴̵̶̴̸̷̲̠̬̝͈͇̰̎̈́͗̈͒̽̀͜͝E̸̴̷̵̴̸̢͉͎̤̺̱̰͈̜̝̽͆̐̉͛͌̋̚ ̵̴̷̷̸̡̖̤̳̥̙̐̐͒́̀́͘̚ͅD̵̵̸̵̴̤̙̣͍͖͍͔̎͌͑̄̈́̚͝ͅĮ̶̶̴̶̷̵̢̛̝͇̗͇̹̬̌̍̈́̀̉̅̀̏̕͝Ȩ̶̶̷̶̴̺̘̹̟͈̜̜͋̽̍̌̓̚ ̶̷̶̶̷̵̢̨̺̟͍͎̤͍̱̱̐̓̏̊́̒͐̋͜͠D̷̷̶̶̴̶̛͓̖̣̹̃̑̉̉̊̅̇͂̕ͅͅI̴̵̵̸̸̸̷̬̘̪̬̹̗̮̋̈́͒̐͊̽̊́̚͜͜͠Ȩ̷̶̵̵̸̵̭̬̞̤͎̫̞͚̽̈́̋̂̓͛̄̽͜ ̴̷̵̷̶̵̨̖͍̪̞̹̜͛͐͐͒́͠͝͝Ḑ̸̶̸̷̸̷̵̛̛̲̠̥̹̙͓̼̔̿́̈͂͒̇̈́̓͘͜͜I̵̸̷̴̸̳̥̬̝̲̺̮̤͛̍͐̈͛͂̉͠Ȩ̸̴̶̶̶̸̵̡̖̼͉̟̻̜̗̟̬͆̎̊́̋̋̇̒͐͘̚͠͝ ̷̴̸̶̵̸̶̡̟̦͔̖̦̖͕͋̉̈́̐̍́̀͋̉̀͒̕͜͜Ḑ̷̷̴̶̷̵̡̤̘͕̙̯̹̟̦̌̉͋͋͐̍́̑͒͠I̵̴̶̴̶̵̡̹̹̮̟̤̘͚̞̋͌͋͑̎̃̌̚Ę̵̷̶̵̸̱͍̼͚̘͕́̃̓͌́͑ ̷̸̸̴̵̴̷̨̣̥͔̬̟͇̺̤̃̂͌͐̍̅̈͗̋͠D̶̷̴̶̴̸̨̲̗̱͍̰̰̦̘̭̿̀͋̑̃̌̍I̵̶̷̷̶̢̖̭͉̮̺̮̋̇͐̌͌̿̚̚E̴̷̴̴̵̶͈̺̱͈̘͉͙̦̠͇͌̔̔͋̇̇̽͋̀ ̷̸̶̸̵̴̡͉͖̘̫̹͐͊̐̽̊̾͐͘͘͝Ḑ̶̴̵̴̵̷̻͔͙̜͎̺̩̳͐̍̅̏̑͌̑͜I̵̸̴̴̸̸̠͎͕̦̻̤̻͖͈̐̈́͂̉̒̇̊̊͜͝Ȩ̸̶̸̸̷̷̷̧͈͚̼͉̩̼͔͖͕͔̌̒̅͐̅̀̋̊͗̒̈͘͠ ̴̴̸̷̷̶̵͔̗̜̯͍͉̝̥̗̖͙̲̈́̒͒́͗͋̄̆̚D̴̴̷̶̶̞̳̳̯̗̱̯̔̾̄͛̂̕̚I̶̵̶̵̵̢̦̜̜̼̩̗͛̈͊̾̌͂̊͝E̷̴̶̷̶̶̛̤͙͈͇̩̖̞̲͌̎̊͂̿̑̎̓ ̷̴̴̵̵͙̹̼̣̼͓̝̐̇̓̈́̔̔͝
E̵̦̥̰͆͆̀́̎̔̓̅̉̆̈͑̚R̸̢̲̭͙̘͎̲̭̊̏͠R̷̰͔̭̳͉̻͕̱̮̭̙̮̪̃̊̑͘Ǫ̵̧͈̞̭̯̬̺̳̫͈̦̟̲̺̓̈́͒̿̀͠Ȓ̶͖͙̩̣̄̎̇͐̾̉̈́̎̓̄̚͘͝͝