Third Morning (3)

Illya felt confident in stating that she now bore witness to one of the most unique sights a Magus could ever hope to see.

Two Reality Marbles, both intersecting at a perfectly even distance between the pair that had manifested them, respective worlds halted seamlessly at some cosmically designated endpoint.

One was naught but a blasted and cursed landscape, decorated by countless weapons stuck into the loose dirt and choked with dust and smoke, gargantuan and rusted cogs lining the sky with ominous creaks as they ceaselessly turned with a sound like a whale's lament.

The other was a snowy, utterly flat plane of steel that, upon closer inspection, was actually countless and innumerable weapons perfectly interlocked together to form a geometrically precise configuration...and in the center of that field resided a raised platform, leaking molten metal that flew with sparks and fire as it fed the ever expanding ground.

Illya was no fool, even though what she was witnessing was so impossibly unique and specific that it might have very well not existed in the first place...the facts were right there in front of her.

Two Reality Marbles comprised of nothing but weapons, both extremes of a literal interpretation of a metaphor?

That tanned Archer...was her brother. Or at least some possible version of him.

She shook her head and dispelled those thoughts for later perusal, turning to face the pair of Servants that were still her Berserker's foes.

"Heh...it's not enough to see one rare sight, but two at the same time...what strange individuals..."

Saber neglected to say anything but the way she looked around in complete awe was comment enough, Illya taking a deep breath and giving her step-sibling a brief glance.

He was motionless, locked into a staring contest with the other him and she knew that the battle was between them and then alone.

"Berserker, back to business!"

With yet another powerful roar Herakles sprang forward to engage Rider and Saber, Illya muttering, "Angel's Note," before yanking out a few strands of her hair, willing the threads to life and wrapping them around Berserker's weapon.

Saber rushed to meet the Servant, own blade rising to counter Berserker's assault-

-and instead of cancelling it out as she had done before the magically charged wires negated some of her prana-based technique, forcing the King of Knights to her knees with a bewildered expression as Rider moved forward to assist.

The Homunculus smirked at the results of her improvised strategy, knowing full well her magecraft wouldn't long withstand an assault between such high-tier Servants...but that was fine.

For now, she was just stalling until her brother finished up his side of the battle.


Archer had seen a lot during his countless-perhaps even infinite-time spent 'alive'. He'd fought against threats both mundane and Supernatural, participated in countless Grail Wars of varying intensity and conclusions and even been dragged off to some truly strange timelines.

...Not that many of those specifics were particularly clear or vivid but his muddled memories were slowly coming into greater and greater focus, mostly through recognition that this time things were different. The pace was different, the faces were different and the reasonswere different.

And yet he could, with absolute certainty, state that he'd never had the dubious pleasure of an alternate version of himself stare at his-their-Reality Marble with such abject revulsion and fear in equal measure.

He tried to ignore the disquiet and existential shame that expression brought as amber eyes-his eyes-finally locked onto his own.

"You're me. A me that failed. That gave up."

No amount of experience and events partaken of could hide his flinch, at having an intrinsic part of his persona as EMIYA being ripped open bloody with just a few words.

And, naturally, stoic sarcasm and morbid humor were his shield and sword. After all, it was hard to be hurt when you could make light of the worse possible scenario.

"Well don't you have things figured out, Shirou. How's your lifelong purpose coming along then? If you've already manifested your Reality Marble then congratulations, you're well on your way to becoming as distorted as I am-"

"Save your excuses. I'm still fighting, not looking for a way out over a broken dream."

Staring upon Alaya, making a deal to become a Counter Guardian and subsequently being betrayed by the one, singular wish he'd held all his life...that one statement from his other self brought back an emotion he thought he'd long ago given up on feeling.

Hot, emotionally charged fury.

"A broken dream? What makes you so certain of that, boy?"

His anger was met with disgust of equal ferocity.

"Look at yourself. Rusted swords, a salted field, choking clouds, a dying sun and turning cogs just waiting for that one, final mechanical failure that will bring it crashing down. What makes me so certain? It's your soul."

Kanhsou and Bakuya were immediately Traced into his palms, grip on the handles so tight that the familiar weapons groaned with the strain.

He was so incensed that he didn't even notice the molten core of his alter-ego's Marble flare with sparks, a pair of Chinese blades flying out of it and smoothly inserting themselves into the floor like they had always belonged.

"Don't talk like you know me, like you understand me! We share the same name and nothing else! What lovely little dream did Kirtsugu plant in your head? To be a Hero of Justice? To be the Second Magus Killer? To finish what he couldn't and destroy the Grail? Or perhaps-"

"None of those. He wanted me to save his daughter, my sister."

Archer's mind screeched to a halt, eyes automatically flicking towards where Herakles was fighting Saber and Rider before snapping back to his resolute self's.

"...You're going to fail. Her body-"

"Already accounted for. Avalon and Oto-san's corpse for Homunculus forms she can inhabit without fear of degradation."

"You're up against several Heroic Spirits and one of the most powerful Dead Apostles-"

"And I have a few friends in the Church who know the best way to destroy one."

"The King of Heroes-"

"Already met him and know I'm likely the only one that can fight against the King of Heroes and win."

Archer's teeth ground in aimless fury, voice a low growl as he stated, "You have to fight me. Even if I didn't want to grind you to dust-and I don't-Command Seals are absolute. And you're fresh, you're inexperienced...you don't have a prayer of beating me."

The other Shirou's eyes narrowed.

"I doubt that. I'm still fighting, unlike you. You, who let his own soul rot-"

"SHUT UP!"

His last bit of restraint snapped, prana flooding his body as a tidal wave of weapons flew to his side like faithful dogs. Some appeared in flashes of light, others ripped themselves from the broken ground and many more simply dropped from the sky overhead.

Mundane swords and Noble Phantasms alike lined up next to the other, no distinction held between them as Archer raised his faithful bow, mundane arrow knocked and aimed at his other self's heart even as the forge behind him spewed an endless stream of identical weaponry.

The arrow would be the beacon, the projectile that guided the storm of metal and power that would destroy any trace of his infuriating alter ego, consequences be damned.

"These are the facts, the reality. You aren't a Counter Guardian. You aren't powerful enough to beat me. Because you're only Human."

The other Shirou, instead of quailing, flinching or retreating...he merely smiled. A twisted, distorted smile that spoke of madness despite his neutral gaze.

"Human? Weren't you listening? I am but one blade comprised of many."

Archer didn't bother responding to such an inane statement, simply releasing the tracking arrow and the air around him exploded.

Metal flew at killing velocities, Noble Phantasms glowed with unnatural light as their effects triggered and the Reality Marble's shivered, Archer's imagined terra encroaching upon Shirou's as the conceptual weight of his assault overwhelmed the opposing one, the Servant so focused on destruction that he was heedless of the strain it would inflict upon Rin, even with Unlimited Blade Work's unique nature making the production of weapons cost barely a thing.

The onslaught of steel closed to within ten meters, Archer smirking as the young man made no motion to defend himself-

-only raising a hand to cover his heart, circuits flaring as he whispered a single word, their imagined worlds exploding into golden light.

Archer instinctively covered his eyes, the wave of released power strong enough to raise a significantly sized cloud of dust that temporarily obscured his vision, a scowl marring his features.

That light...why was it so familiar? Like a distant utopia one could only reach for and never...reach…

Ebony bow slipped from nerveless fingers, clattering to the dust as his eyes widened, features locked in a rictus of disbelief.

"How...how do you-"

There he was, his alter ego...standing unharmed in a small ring of immaculate ground, golden sheath held steadily before him as it hummed with a peaceful benevolence, lines of sweat and exertion dotting his form...and those present stared at it with varying levels of awe, the fighting briefly put on hold as Saber-most of all of them-was utterly gobsmacked at seeing her lost artifact in the hands of her opponent.

Archer forced himself to speak.

"You're not contracted to Saber, right now you're her enemy. Avalon shouldn't even work for you, it shouldn't have the power needed, shouldn't have enough of her essence-"

Memories that he had thought forgotten, of the beginning of his life when he had first been exposed to the Holy Grail War, when he had first lain eyes on Arturia...of how they had recreated the Holy Scabbard to defeat the King of Heroes, how he had never again been able to properly use the Noble Phantasm.

"How?! And you said you gave up Avalon, all you have within you is a copy! Why?! Why is a child like you able to wield what was never intended to be wielded by any but Saber?!"

Calmly dispelling the sheath into motes of gold Shirou wiped his forehead, exhaling a breath of steam before glancing in Arturia's bewildered direction...and simply shrugged.

He shrugged. As if the loyalty of one of the most priceless treasures to ever exist in the world was of little consequence or thought.

"The Once and Future King is said to have been granted it, after swearing to put the Kingdom above all of the King's Human desires. To live and die for the country as the immortal, perfect ruler."

A contemplative expression briefly flitted across his features.

"I have done the same, except instead of a country I wish to save a single person...Avalon was with me for all of my life, either as a copy or the original. Perhaps it has judged me worthy of its power. I have no desire for immortality or the utopia within...only that it aid me in protecting another."

Archer stared.

He stared and stared and stared.

It was absurd. It was ridiculous. It was plain, flat out wrong.

But the proof was right in front of him.

...No. It had to be a trick. Because if that was the truth, then that meant his dream, his desire to save others...it wasn't worthy. It had never been worthy. Even before he had been a Counter Guardian, before he had sacrificed everything his dream had been regarded as not worth the attention of paradise-

The man snapped back to the present as he belatedly realized the horrific entity before him was sprinting at a pace comparable to a low-level Servant, Kanshou and Bakuya whirling to meet his palms as the Reality Marble began to encroach against his own.

It was instinct that Traced an identical pair of the married swords to meet the other, instinct that reinforced the blades so that they would shatter their inferiors and tear into the boy wielding them-

"Time Alter: Triple Accel."

-and it was instinct that failed him as his own weapons were the ones broken, steel punching past his armor and deep into his heart and lungs as he automatically judged the amount of prana needed to handle the projections, factored in his opponent's speed and velocity...and was caught off guard as the boy accelerated beyond his expectations, Phantasms far more powerful than they had any right to be.

Archer could only look upon his other self and laugh at what he saw, what technique it was that had allowed him to perform such a feat.

Converting one's own nerves into a temporary magic circuit...and if the glowing lines slowly fading from his alternate self's smoking and steaming body were any indication he'd made almost forty of them, the surge in output enough to break through the strength of even a Servant, albeit one of his own relative level.

To think he was killed by the very method of practicing magecraft that he had believed to be improper and abandoned...fate had a very messed up sense of humor indeed.

"You said I don't know you, that I don't understand you. I don't. But you don't understand me either."

Despite the sweating and crimson skin, the trembling limbs, the steam that trailed from his body and in billows every time he spoke the young man's tone was steady, obviously no stranger to pain.

"Seeing your inner world frightened me...because I saw what a broken tool looks like. That's what I'm supposed to be, you know. An emotionless weapon set to carry out someone else's task...but I'm not that, no matter how much I try to be."

The married blades buried themselves deeper into Archer's body, neither version of the same man so much as blinking.

"Caren makes me feel anger, aggravation, vexation...and I love it, I can't get enough even though I hate her for it. Sakura I feel pity, sympathy...empathy. To know that we're imperfect tools even though we try so damn hard to be just the opposite. And now...now Illya. How I feel myself slipping around her, giving in to emotions and making concessions even though it might kill her, how being imperfect is worth it if she would only smile one more time for me."

A sharp yank removed the blades, both stumbling away from the other.

"But I'm going to keep going, no matter how confusing, alarming, worrying and terrifying all of these new paradigms are...and it's all thanks to you. You've shown me what failure is like, what awaits me if I falter."

Shirou cast a brief glance behind him.

"...The Noble Phantasms and such are useful too."

"Heh, yeah...that's me...always helping others even if it ends in my death and damnation...hey, kid. Your dad, the version of him in this world...what were his last moments with you like?"

Cocking his head Shirou eventually shrugged, replying, "Confusing. I think he tried to be normal at the end, saying 'sorry' every chance he got...I never understood it. Why?"

Archer chuckled, a trickle of blood dripping from his lips.

"My father 'gifted' me his dream of becoming a Hero of Justice, saying he loved me and died with a smile on his face...did you cry?"

"No. Why?"

This time EMIYA openly laughed, remarking, "Our extended family truly are twisted little monsters, aren't we...my father loved me and tried to be a good man, cursing me to an eternity of servitude and endless slaughter as a consequence...yours tried to turn you into a weapon and succeeded so well that you didn't even shed a tear upon his miserable passing. And I would say you are the far more fortunate one."

Motes of light began to drift from the Servant's body, the gears of his world overhead groaning and beginning to fall with majestic grace to the wastelands below.

"...Don't let her down, kid. Coming home only to find her body motionless in bed, a lonely expression telling the whole story of how I wasn't there in her final moments...there were a lot of nails in the coffin of Shirou Emiya, but that was the final one. I could have been there, I should have been there...but I wasn't. Because my Goddamned dream took precedence, cursing a sad, friendless girl to expire with a frown and dried tear tracks to mark her passing."

"I wasn't planning on it."

Accepting that with a final nod EMIYA turned his gaze to the faraway sight of his sister, expression fierce as she threw yet another strand of her hair onto Herakles weapon, standing firm despite the chaotic battle occurring practically within throwing distance.

A small, genuine smile appeared on his lips as conscious thought left him.

His Illya may have died alone due to his own obsessions...but this one may just yet have a chance at happiness.

And amid all the blood, all the loss and memories of countless failed attempts to save someone...that thought gave him some small measure of peace.


Illya didn't so much as blink as the dual Reality Marble abruptly collapsed, depositing them onto the ruins of her home, sirens of emergency services wailing in the distance.

She only had eyes for her brother, collapsing weakly with steam rising from his form and shirt drenched with sweat, sprinting towards him as she shouted, "Berserker, carry us!"

Faithfully carrying out the order the towering Servant grasped his weapon with both hands, firing off a mighty blow that sent both Saber and Rider careening down the road and tore anything not securely bolted to the ground along with them in a small cyclone of destroyed property.

Illya had just reached Shirou when powerful arms scooped them both into the crook of one massive shoulder, the Homunculus wincing as she felt just how warm her brother's body was, almost burning to the touch.

"Onii-chan, are you going to be alright?"

"Yes, I'll be fine...just need a few minutes..."

She wasn't convinced but held her complaints for the moment, scowling as she saw the two enemy Servants quickly give chase.

Granted, Berserker was managing to outpace them but the moment they came to a stop they would be on them within seconds.

She hoped that Servant of the Matou's had a trick or two up it sleeve because today was turning out to be a really long one...and forget keeping the Moonlit World hidden, this was going to be a very hard one to explain to the masses.

Oh well, that would that Caren bitch's job~!


In Soviet Russia, Caren IS manager.