Disclaimer: The works of Type-Moon and Jō Taketsuki are their own despite my most fervent wishes. This is a fan work and if anyone does pay me for it the only thing it will accomplish is to get me into trouble. This is being done purely for fun, constructive criticism is welcome, and flames will be ignored. Please be gentle though, this is the first fanfic I've put on the net.
Well, here's my latest chapter. It's a bit shorter than my last one, but on the other hand it was finished sooner so I suppose it evens out. It's also my first chapter without a fight scene so that helped a bit. For the most part this is for explanation and set up, but I hope it still proves enjoyable.
I'd like to thank everyone who gave me suggestions as to the future Authority ideas; as far as Shirou goes I've now got things more or less sorted. Still if you have any ideas you'd like to suggest feel free, my plans aren't set in stone.
Next up is one of my favourite topics: Campioneverse vs Nasuverse.
After several reviews and a bit of research of my own I've decided to amend my original assessments a bit. First off are The Type Mercury and its brethren. After reviewing its data I find I have to agree with the reviews I've been receiving about the idea of three Campione being able to beat it. I confess I seriously underestimated it, after all from what I understand of its Wiki entry the thing is not only picking a fight with the entire planet simply by being there but from the looks of things it seems to be WINNING. Add in the fact that it's described as possessing the most powerful attack capacities of anything on Earth . . . well I think the point is clear. Just to top that off due to its truly alien origin nothing of earthly origin can even affect it, as such it's debatable whether even Ea could so much as scratch it. Campione might be able to affect it, given that they are also of a sort of alien origin, being from a different dimension. Of course even if that is the case then they are simply hellishly outgunned rather that wolves howling at the moon.
Righto, ORT = secret boss that's pretty much impossible to kill. I suppose it'd be THEORETICALLY possible for an alliance of Campione to take it down, but the odd would be ridiculously high against it.
Next up are the weapons of Erica and Liliana. In previous chapters I've said how I classified them as being more or less on par with B rank Noble Phantasms. This has been queried a lot in both reviews and private messages so I thought I'd explain my reasoning here.
While I agree that neither of them possess a power as . . . final as Gae Bolg the reason I felt they merited that rank was their adaptability. Cuore di Leone can manifest as a weapon, a servitor metal lion, self guiding energy bolts and different forms of swords and weapons. It's strong enough to stand up to a divine weapon like Ama no Murakumo no Tsurugi and remain intact. Additionally its power increases along with the strength of it wielder.
Il Maestro hasn't had quite as much of a chance to show off, but its meant to be the equal of Cuore di Leone. I know that it can change forms into a bow and spear as well as a sword and that as a spear it has musical abilities. In addition to that in bow form and using the Golgotha spell this weapon was able to harm a god, something that is regarded as ridiculously difficult in the Campioneverse.
All that taken into account I feel that both those weapons would count as B rank, though their full potential cannot be brought out due to their wielders being mortal magic users. When using Godou's divine protection Erica was able to temporarily destroy Sun Wukong's staff even though doing so also caused Cuore di Leone to break as well. That indicates that they are on par with truly godly weapons. If they can even partly match a weapon of that calibre then I think they rate B- rank or at least C rank.
Spoilers
Okay, we finally get to Illya's situation. I tried to keep things as accurate as possible, but I also had to take a few liberties. I hope that what I worked out proves to be acceptable.
I've taken a few liberties with Archer's history and role in the various routes which I have been told aren't quite cannon. Still going about it in this manner allows me to tie all three of the routes into my story quite well, so I've decided to run with it. I've also gone with the idea that as a Counter Guardian rather than a Heroic Spirit Archer keeps his memories of every time he is summoned. He'd have too otherwise his existence wouldn't have been nearly as torturous. It's just that all the mountains of memories he gains all blur together into a sort of mish mash of general horror. I hope that this doesn't irritate too many.
Next up we have Shirou and an explanation of what's been going on with his memories. Also we have a little bit about Gilgamesh. After reviewing both the Fate Anime and the Light Novel on You Tube I've decided that the king of heroes is DEFINITELY Campione level or higher. He could probably overwhelm Godou if he wasn't very careful. Voban might be able to match him since I think he still has a few Authorities that he hasn't demonstrated inn addition to those I know of. I suppose it would all depend on which of them chose to go all out first. Gilgamesh meeting Luo Hao would also be both amusing and entertaining. Not only are they both ridiculously powerful, they both have egos that can only be described as titanic.
Another new god is being set up to be introduced and a few more hints are given on Athena's other collaborator. Can anyone make any guesses? A cookie to the first one to get it right.
There is also the appearance of another new enemy. Don't worry, I've only got one more planned to show up and then I think that will be the end of all the new original characters.
BIG SPOILER AHEAD. DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT THE SURPRISE SPOILED.
Next chapter is going to be the long awaited meeting of the Japanese Campione. It'll take place during Volume 5 of the Campione series. Be warned though, I'm not sure how big the chapter will be so it might take me a while to write. If so please be patient, I promise it will be worth the wait, or so I hope.
Well, here's the chapter, hope you all enjoy it. Loads of special thanks to my Beta Angry Santo.
God Slaying Blade Works: Chapter Five
The man faced the main gate to the large mansion and steeled himself. Doing this was never very pleasant; he'd had to do it before on a number of occasions and it always lead to an unpleasant confrontation.
Still this was his job and as such his duty, one that he could not shirk in good conscience. Taking a deep breath he reached out and pressed the button at the bottom of the intercom system that was built into the side of the gate. There was an electronic buzzing, a brief moment of silence and then the speaker clicked on.
"Yes?"
"Could I please speak to the owner of this house?"
"Speaking."
The man drew a deep breath and prepared himself for what promised to be a potentially unpleasant conversation.
"It has recently been brought to the attention of my department that there are a pair of young people in this house who have not been registered at any educations facility."
Life as a Truancy officer could be hard at times.
-()-
Illya stood in front of the wall length mirror in her room and examined her body carefully. At the moment she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, so her examination was quite unimpeded.
This was her first close scrutiny of herself that she had taken in several years. Ever since her body had ceased to mature due to the alterations that the Einzbern family had inflicted upon her there had been no need to. The loss of her milk teeth had been the last real change her body had managed to undergo before her maturation slowed and then eventually halted all together.
The truth of the matter was that she was actually a year or two older that Shirou. The fact that she liked to call him her onii-chan was something of a personal joke to her.
She had been the same way for seven years, able to pass for a mature ten year old, a regular eleven year old, or a small twelve year old. She knew that she was intelligent, but due to the to the circumstances of her upbringing she was far from being as emotionally or psychologically mature as her chronological age. In an odd way her mind and thought processes were a closer match with her physical appearance than they were with her true age.
It had been that way for so long that she had stopped thinking about it that much. That was how the world was and there wasn't anything she could do about it, so she just ignored it. She had come to accept the fact that she would soon be dead. It wasn't something that she was in any way happy about, but it was reality and just something that she had to deal with. She had known how tall she was, how much she weighed, what sizes of clothes fitted her best and so on.
Then she had begun to notice that her clothes didn't fit quite as well as they should have. She had stood on the scales in her bathroom, simply to see how they worked, and found she weighed nearly three kilos more than she should have. Her shoes had begun to feel uncomfortably tight. So many things that should not have been happening were happening. So she had measured herself and found, to both her elations and trepidation, that she had grown five centimetres taller.
So now here she stood, naked in front of her mirror, and examined her body to see if she could see any other impossible changes.
As contrary as it was to everything that she knew about herself there were visible changes. They were small, subtle, but to one who had seen an unchanging form in the mirror for the better part of a decade they could be spotted.
There was definitely some more curve to her hips than there had been before. Likewise her chest now sported some very slight development. Certainly she didn't have to worry about getting a bra anytime soon, but no longer could she be called flat either.
The Einzbern homunculus sat down on her bed and stared at herself in the mirrors reflective surface. How was this possible? Even before her body had been modified in preparation for the fifth Heavens Feel she had been incapable of developing secondary sexual characteristics. Certainly she could have continued to grow up, but she would have grown into a childlike woman rather than a mature beauty like her mother. After her alterations though even that had been denied to her. Both her maturation and her lifespan had been sacrificed in order to maximize the amount of prana her circuits were able to generate.
To give the family of alchemists their due their efforts had been almost entirely successful. Illya had been able to generate an amount of power that was as close to unlimited as could be achieved by mortal flesh, baring the use of a True Magic. Certainly it had been enough for her to maintain the most prana expensive Servant in the war with the bare minimum of difficulty. Even so the strain of maintaining control over the sheer force of Berserker's existence had caused the snow haired girl great anguish despite all the power at her command.
All this lead to the simple question of just how this was possible. The amount of tampering that had been made upon her should have made this impossible.
Illya's brow furrowed as a thought occurred to her. Closing her eyes she turned her focus inwards as she employed Structural Grasping upon herself. This was one of the most basic forms of magic in her world, little more than an exercise taught to novices as a way for them to practice. Of course given that the Einzbern family specialized in the art of Alchemy, the practice of the conversion of matter, the use of Structural Grasping was a key part of their training.
Normally Illya used this skill to aid her in the comprehension of the matter that she was working with in order to produce her threads. Now though she was using it to analyse her own form, to see just what it was that had changed within her to allow this impossibility to occur. She supposed that she should have done this weeks ago, if only to see whether or not her trip through the dimensions had affected her or not. However with all the excitement that had happened when Shirou became a Campione she hadn't thought of it until more than twenty days after they had arrived. By that point it had seemed largely pointless to do so as she had felt nothing worth noting.
Now though she sent her magic back into herself and used it to search for any changes.
The first thing that she noticed was that her internal organs were all far healthier than they been before the Holy Grail war. The stress of producing and channelling such huge quantities of prana had placed great wear on them over the years. As a result while they still functioned properly they were more akin to those of a sixty year old rather than a girl of her physical or chronological age. Now though they were far healthier, previous damage had faded and vitality was restored.
The second that caught her attention was her very cell structure. As with her organs her cells were subject to considerable wear due to the stress her enormous prana placed on them. This was actually the silent killer that would have taken her life, in a year her cellular renewal would have finally given up the ghost and fallen below the level where it could sustain her weakened organs. As deaths go it would have been fairly peaceful, or so she had been told, she'd simply fall asleep and never wake up as her organs failed one after the other.
However as with her organs it seemed that her cells had been revitalized completely. Where before they had 'felt' tired and wan to her mystic senses they now felt much more young and vigorous.
The next thing that stood out to her was her magic circuits. Her body possessed an immense number of them, more than were possessed by any living human. They even surpassed the Blue Blood Noble Magic Circuits possessed by the Barthomeloi. That had been one of the small vanities she had allowed herself in private, the thought that all her sacrifices had allowed her to surpass the greatest example of human power alive. Well, at least in the sheer level of prana she could produce. Though a bit prideful Illya was not so suicidal as to think herself the equal to the Queen of the Clock Tower. Even if she could claim superior reserves the fact was that the silver haired girl had essentially been raised to be little more than a well of power capable of supporting and controlling Berserker. Lorelei, on the other hand, was both older than her and had received the best mystical education humanly possible. Illya had heard stories about her, of how she had deliberately waited for a Dead Apostle to be at the peak of its power before she went hunting for them. In short the only way Illya was ever going to go up against her was going to be if she had Berserker there to back her up.
What was strange though was that her circuits now seemed to be of even higher quality than they had been before. Not only that, it was as though the prana that they were channelling was also of a higher grade. No . . . that wasn't quite right. Prana was by its very nature slightly harmful to those who used it, after all if one channelled too much of it then that led to burn out, just as electricity could fry wires if too much voltage was used. Now the energies running through her felt more . . . benign? Helpful?
Illya's frown deepened as she focused more of her concentration on the make up of her prana. As part of her training Illya had been taught how to constantly harvest Mana from her environment and use it as a component in her prana. While the bulk of her prana was composed of the phenomenal amounts of Od that her body generated this harvested Mana made up a noticeable portion of it. In practice using that method allowed her to increase her prana output by fifteen percent, a fraction noteworthy enough that she now did it all the time without even thinking about it.
This was apparently the source of the change in her prana. The Mana that she absorbed from her environment seemed to be, for want of a better word, friendlier than that of her home dimension. She supposed that made sense to a degree, unlike her own world this dimension still seemed to be in an age of the gods, a time when the natural powers of the world were present to govern and organise those forces. In addition her own experiments had shown that this world didn't seem to have a World Consciousness such as the existence that had been called Gaia in her own home world.
That had been one of the first things that she had worked out when she had been trying to find a place for her and Shirou to shelter. There was no opposing force to her mage craft, no sensation of having to fight against the world in order to keep her Mystery manifested.
Yeeess . . . it made sense in a way. This world was more amenable to the desires of those who wielded power. Neither Gaia nor Alaya existed here because the 'space' in the metaphysical world that they would normally occupy was being shared between a huge number of gods. They were each exerting a small but real influence upon the world, and spell casters were able to tap into this influence in order to improve their own magic. It made sense to her, if she had to guess she'd be willing to bet money that their spells often took the form of prayers to one god or another, even if the target of that spell was a god themselves. At a guess she'd say that over the centuries the natural Mana of the planet had been imprinted by this influence, leaving it just a touch more 'willing' to co-operate with magi.
Still, that could not account for the changes in her body. Healing and revitalization of this scale would have required a potent spell of ritual; it wasn't something that could just happen on its own.
Focussing her attention even further Illyasviel Von Einzbern looked even deeper into her flesh. There . . . there was something. It was small and diffuse, but it seemed to permeate her entire form, and what was even stranger was that she could feel it healing her body cell by cell. Then as she narrowed her attention even more to analyse this strange phenomenon she sensed something that caused her to metaphorically recoil in surprise.
The strange energy field 'tasted' of Shirou.
Ever since coming to this new world Illya had become intimately familiar with the feeling of the power that Shirou now constantly radiated. It amazed her really; originally Shirou had been the possessor of twenty seven low quality circuits. Granted some of the things he had done with those circuits could have been regarded as borderline sorcery, but that had been due to Archer's arm being grafted onto him. However since becoming a Campione the quality and capacity of his circuits had risen to a level that could be called inhuman. To the best of her knowledge no other human had ever been able to generate that level of raw prana. Some of the most powerful Dead Apostle Ancestors had been reported to be able to achieve such feats, but never a mortal human.
Illya knew that Shirou had gained abilities from each of the gods that he had slain, abilities that were on par with Noble Phantasms as far as she could tell. This energy field within her own body had a 'taste' to it that was similar to one of the powers that Shirou had gained after killing the god called Perseus. It was not an ability he liked to talk about, but by her own observations and experiences she'd been able to work it out.
In a way it seemed to be a weaker and conditional version of the mystic face possessed by the Lancer of the fourth Heavens Feel War. It only worked on those who had been 'saved' by Shirou, and then it simply made him more attractive to them rather than inducing love as the Lancers love spot had done. One way that it had differed though was that the Authority did not merely influence those under its effect, it also bolstered them, healed them. Illya had observed that girls that fell under its influence almost visibly became more energetic and 'peppy' while around Shirou.
She also knew that she herself was under the effects of the Authority, granted her magic resistance had been more than sufficient to ward off the mental effects, but she'd noticed that even so she tended to generally feel more lively when she was around her adopted brother. She had also noticed that while in his presence small cuts and bruises healed up so fast that it was almost visible.
Could that be it? Had the influence of Shirou's Authority caused this field that was healing her?
No, that couldn't be right. The field was working right now, but the effect that she had noted only seemed to work while in Shirou's immediate presence. Also the field within her might have the 'taste' of Shirou's power, but at the same time she could tell that it wasn't his. It was as though the field were a . . . copy? An imitation? It seemed to replicate the effects, but was not OF Shirou's power.
With a groan of frustration the young Einzbern released her focus and lay back on her bed.
Great, now she had even more questions than she did to start with. Where had that field come from? How was it able to rejuvenate her ruined body? How was it related to her adoptive brother? AAAAHH! So many annoying questions, why couldn't this have just been simple?
On the other hand it seemed that she had been granted a new lease on life. Whatever that field was it seemed to be repairing all the damage that had been done to her body while at the same time allowing her to retain her enhanced performance. Exactly how it was managing such a seemingly paradoxical task was just one more question to add to the list.
Not for the first time Illya cursed the slanted nature of her mystic education. Had she not been the next representative of her family in the fifth Holy Grail War then the training that she had been forced to undertake would not only not have been cruel but it also wouldn't have been so tightly focused. If it had not been related to the war then it was deemed useless and so forbidden to her. There was so much that she should have known that had been denied to her. So much that could have been useful to her.
Bah, no point in thinking about that now, it was best to focus on the good news.
She was going to LIVE! She had a future now, she had a future and she had her freedom. There was none of her blasted family here to tell her what to do and to hurt her if she refused. The only family here was the only member of her family that she gave a damn about. Her beloved onii-chan, the brother her father had chosen.
More and more she was beginning to think that the stories her grandfather had told her of her father abandoning her in favour of Shirou were worth the contents of a septic tank.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she quickly sat up and reached for the dressing grown that was lying on the bed beside her.
"Who is it?" She called as she slipped the purple garment on.
"It's me Miss Einzbern," came the voice of Yusuke, "Could you come to my study as soon as you're free? A situation has arisen that I need to discuss with you and your brother."
Illya blinked, but quickly gathered herself and answered.
"Sure. Just give me a few minutes to get dressed and I'll see you in your office."
"See you there then."
The answer was accompanied by the sound of retreating footsteps. As she pulled her slightly uncomfortable clothes on Illya idly wondered what had happened that required the attention of both her and Shirou. Normally Yusuke was the very model of competence, for something to come up that he had to discuss it with them . . .
This might prove to be quite interesting.
-()-
Emiya Shirou sat cross legged in the centre of the manors dojo and tried to find his own centre.
The problem was that this was proving to be damnably hard to accomplish.
It had been three days since his collapse. Three days since he became consciously aware of the seething mass of foreign memories that were almost flawlessly interlaced with his own.
No, calling them foreign wasn't quite right. After all every single one of those memories belonged to Emiya Shirou. The problem was that they didn't belong to HIM.
Once he had regained consciousness he had immediately begun to meditate in an attempt to sort the chaotic mass of recollections into some sort of order. For the most part he had been successful and the fragmented memories had resolved themselves into three sets.
The first, and by far the longest of the three, belonged to a Shirou that had found himself embroiled in the fifth Holy Grail war. He hadn't cared about his Servant, he had not cared that she slew that wars Archer barely five minutes after her summoning. All he cared about was that he had the chance to fulfil his ideals.
So he had fought. He had received some aid from Rin as thanks for sparing her life. He had received some aid from Kirei who was curious as to how the Grail would grant his wish. He had cast aside all attachments and pursued the path that would save the most lives. He had gone on to win the war, how could he not? He was following the ideal of a hero, and the hero always won.
He had no wish to make on the Grail of course, he had seen how polluted it had become and used his last command seals to grant his Servant the power needed to destroy it. As she had faded he had sworn to continue to pursue his conviction, after all he had just proven it to be correct by saving the world hadn't he?
He had continued to live holding fast to the ideals that were his. Years past and he grew stronger and stronger, his skills grew sharper and his experience mounted. Always he went along the path he had chosen even as those who tried to walk it with him disappeared one by one. Illya died and he barely took time to mourn, Rin found her own path and he didn't care, even Fuji-nee was left behind as he continued on.
And in the end the path he followed seemed to run off a cliff and those that he had saved turned on him and condemned him to death. Still he had never wavered in his convictions. He had been trying to save as many as he could and if this was the price for it, well there were worse ways to die. And due to the contract into which he had entered with the world he knew that even after death he would be able to continue to save people.
However that was not to be, for he soon found that the existence of a Counter Guardian was not what he thought it would be. It was not an existence of salvation; it was an existence of damnation.
Again and again he was called forth to ensure mankind's survival. Not by saving anyone, but instead by acting as a destroyer. He would arrive and then everything about him would die. The guilty, the innocent, one and all they would be annihilated by his hand until there was nothing left that could pose a threat to humanity. Not only that, he was also forced to bear witness to the stupidity and self-destructive arrogance of humanity taken to it heights on every occasion he was summoned. Then he would return to the Throne of Heroes and wait to be summoned again when he would be forced to repeat the process again.
Over and over the cycle was repeated, for years then decades then centuries. Again and again until that Shirou's resolve was broken and all he desperately wanted to do was erase his own existence from ever having been.
This chance came when the whims of fate allowed him to be summoned by Tohsaka Rin during the fifth Heavens Feel.
Unfortunately for him during his first clash with Saber he had received a grave wound, one so deep that it had left him with little of his strength left. Unable to materialize for extended periods he had been forced to wait as his injury was healed by the prana supplied by his Master. He had watched as that Shirou had continued to follow his ideal, doing his best to save as many as he could.
In a way it had been painful, but in another way it had been oddly nostalgic, a chance to see himself as he had been before his grim fate.
In the end that EMIYA had found himself facing a choice. He could simply step aside and allow Berserker to pursue Shirou, Rin and Saber and kill them all, or he could lay down his life and buy them as much time as he could.
To be completely honest with himself he had no idea why he chose the latter. Maybe he had been feeling sentimental; maybe it was his youthful ideals rekindling. Whatever the case he had spoken a few words of advice to his younger self and then thrown himself into a battle he knew he couldn't win.
Yet even as his false body had disintegrated he had felt a certain satisfaction.
That Shirou had fallen in love with the Saber that had been his Servant in the fifth Holy Grail War. Together they had defeated Berserker using Caliburn and had then gone on to face the King of Heroes Gilgamesh. In the final battle of the war Saber had faced the golden King while Shirou had battled Kirei. They had both been successful in defeating their foes, destroyed the corrupt Holy Grail and Saved Illya. That Shirou had been treated to the sight of Saber's last beautiful smile before she had faded away. He had learnt in that war, he had learnt how to follow his ideals without being consumed by them. How to accept that not all could be saved no matter how hard you tried, yet what was truly important was that you gave it your all nonetheless.
EMIYA had returned to the Throne and the memories of his experience were reassimilated into his 'original' self. It was impossible for the 'report' to be fully taken in, but on some level what had happened was comprehended and the notion of achieving the paradox gained a grain more of hope.
The EMIYA was summoned to another Fifth Holy Grail war. Again he was an Archer and again he was the Servant of Tohsaka Rin. Only this time he managed to avoid the grave injury that had hampered his other self in that other time route.
So he had planned and schemed and manipulated the situation to give him the chance to slay his own younger self. It was hi hope that the paradox created by the impossibility of him killing his own past would be sufficient to wipe him from existence.
And that was where the third set of memories came from, for as Archer had influenced the younger Shirou to gain ability in Tracing faster so did he experience his younger self's lives. So it was that Shirou was able to watch the confrontation between future and present from both sides. He saw how EMIYA's bitterness and hopelessness had run straight into the bull headedness and sheer stubborn resolve of Emiya Shirou and had been unable to break them. Indeed it had been EMIYA and his despair that had been broken in the end.
Through two sets of eyes Shirou saw sights both wonderful and terrible. He saw two versions of the Reality Marble that was the ultimate mage craft capable by Emiya Shirou. He recalled those two versions of Unlimited Blade Works and knew wonder. He remembered the death of Illya in that world and knew horror. He recalled the face of the Servant who had torn her heart from her body and had known hatred. He had watched the Shirou of that world face the most powerful of all Servants and win and he had known amazement.
At the end he had seen Archer chose to fade back into his own existence rather than form a new pact with Rin. He had done so with a smile on his face, the bitterness in his heart dispelled and a weight lifted from his shoulders. He had seen that his ideal had not been wrong, only the way in which he had followed it. He then disappears safe in the knowledge that Rin would stop that Shirou from taking a path that he would regret.
The tragedy of the situation was that the 'report' of his success was never fully grasped by his 'true' self at the Throne of Heroes. That one spark of deliverance was buried under the same mound of atrocities and massacres that made up the life of a Counter Guardian.
So he had continued in his existence, destroying what needed destroying and occasionally being summoned in some other from. When that happened he played his role dutifully and would then return to his role in existence. And in truth he hated almost every minute of it.
Then he was summoned into another iteration of the fifth Heavens Feel, only this time there was a difference. At first he had been prepared to follow through on his plan, to kill his younger self, even though he had been wounded. Then something had happened, something that had caused a change in his focus. A threat had emerged that normally did not, a threat so grave that he felt that it required his attention as Counter Guardian.
In addition to that he had watched his younger self. It soon became clear that this version of Emiya Shirou was in no way related to his own past. Killing him would accomplish nothing. In fact since the boy had seemingly abandoned his ideals in order to protect his version of Sakura he couldn't even relieve any stress through his murder. He was actually doing something that EMIYA mildly approved of by casting those ideals aside.
He had watched the process take place with a certain clinical interest. Emiya Shirou was offered a choice, to choose between saving the one and saving the many. It was clear where his choice should have gone; his ideals demanded that he sacrifice the one so that the many may live. That was the path of a 'hero' after all.
But to Archer's mild surprise this Shirou did not take that path. Instead he chose to abandon his ideal, the same one that had for so long been that centre of his being, and chose to protect the one dear to him above all else. He cast aside the heroic path that he had inherited from Kiritsugu, to sacrifice even his loved ones if it meant saving more lives. To the Counter Guardian the sight was akin to seeing Lorelei Barthomeloi become a Twilight fangirl. It was utterly inconceivable, but slightly entertaining.
Still, it had happened, and for some reason Archer had felt there was no point in killing or baring any animosity towards this Shirou that seemed to be breaking the mould. So when his core was severely damaged and that Shirou had lost his arm the Counter Guardian decided to have Kirei graft his arm onto his younger self.
Let him have a chance to save his precious one. If nothing else he deserved his support as one Emiya Shirou to another.
Shirou opened his eyes and focused on the wall of the dojo.
It was . . . strange to say the least, seeing, hearing, experiencing the lives of those other Shirous. He had felt their emotions, their joys and pains, but at the same time those emotions had not been his own. There had been some sense of connection, but there was also a distance there as well. He had experienced the affection that had developed for Saber and Rin by his temporal counterparts, but those emotions were not his. He loved Sakura, certainly he held a certain affection for Rin and for his lost Saber, but those feelings had been for friends rather than lovers.
It was certainly awkward though, to now have the memory of having had sex with both of them implanted directly into his mind. Hell, he could even remember having had a threesome with the pair of them.
He felt his face flush as that memory once more rose to the forefront of his thoughts. He wondered if this counted as cheating on Sakura. Granted he had not touched another girl in that way, but now he had somehow gained the majority of the end results of such an indiscretion without having actually done it.
With a growl of frustration Shirou forced his mind away from thoughts of soft flesh and white skin and instead focused on the more practical aspects of these newly gained memories.
The first thing that he had realized was that these recollections had been subtly influencing his decisions for weeks now. It made sense he supposed, Archer had gained phenomenal amounts of experience in both his life and his existence as a Counter Guardian. With those recollections hiding in his subconscious and bleeding over into his main mind it was hardly a surprise that his behaviour had changed. After being in so many terrible situations Archer's mind had settled into a naturally analytical and reactionary state of mind. This, combined with his great experience, had allowed him to possess the potent Eye of the Mind (True) skill.
With Shirou it seemed that the bleed over had left him less prone to spontaneous action and more favourable to preparation and contingency planning.
Idly he contemplated that thought. Just how much had this changed him? He didn't feel any different, but at the same time he could see how his actions were different from what they would have been two months ago. Of course back then he had still been holding onto his ideals with a death grip.
That was another thing; he could now look back on his past self and see the flaws in his pursuit of the ideal he had inherited from his adopted father. The ideal itself was beautiful, flawed it might be, impossible to truly uphold it was, but those same flaws only made it more beautiful. There was nothing wrong with following it, but the way in which he had done so had been . . . wrong. In his memories Rin had called him distorted, and frankly looking back on himself Shirou had to agree with that assessment. He had been willing to throw himself away completely at the merest hint of being able to save someone. Even someone else, if it had been to save enough lives then he could have seen himself sacrificing others in order to do it.
His mind went back to that night in the play ground. He had gone there after he had been faced with the choice as to whether or not to sacrifice Sakura in order to save others. He had been in a daze at the time, having learnt of the condition of Sakura's body as well as learning of the danger of her running wild in an attempt to replenish her fading prana. With Rider at her command she could have left countless bodies in her wake as she mindlessly tried to satiate the hunger of the Crest worms within her.
It would have been so easy; the cruel mathematics of the situation had made for a simple but inescapable conclusion. What was one single life against so many? It had been as Archer had said: "How can you throw away that oath and discard everyone to save one person?" There should have been only a single conclusion.
And yet he hadn't taken it. He had chosen to protect the one he loved over all those faceless others.
He still felt that helping others was important; he would act to save those that he could. But at the same time there was something different. That drive, that relentless NEED to save others was strangely absent. He wondered just how much a part of Emiya Shirou that urge had made up.
Letting his thoughts drift he found himself thinking about how he now compared to those other Shirous and Archer himself. This had then led on to comparing himself to the Servants of the war, and from there he thought of the strongest of them all, Gilgamesh.
In the thoughts of those who had seen him the golden king towered as a titan from myth. Through those borrowed memories he could see him, see the casual ease with which he had annihilated other Servants. Caster had been a spell caster wielding magics long vanished from the world and yet the king of heroes had swatted her form the sky like an insect. Berserker had been less of a living being and more of a force of nature forced into a humanoid form, and yet even he had been cut down by Gilgamesh with almost contemptuous ease. Archer had never faced him directly, in the Counter Guardian's mind the golden king had unquestionably been the most powerful of all Servants.
In his mind Shirou immediately began to use his knowledge of the Servants capabilities as well as how he had been fought in the past to try to prepare a strategy in case he had to fight him himself. That was ludicrous of course since it was clear to him that even if he found a way back to his world Gilgamesh was undoubtedly dead.
That was the only logical conclusion. From what he could tell of the king of heroes possessed an ego that could only be described as monumental. Given the events that had been taking place the thought of him staying at the sidelines was utterly laughable. Shirou had no certainty as to what had happened to him, but he imagined Gilgamesh had met the same fate as Saber and Berserker, consumed by Sakura's shadow. The thought was almost unbelievable, as terrifying as Sakura's dark alter ego had been the Archer of the Fourth Holy Grail war loomed so titanically in the recollections he had acquired as to eclipse even the likes of Berserker.
Still, how would he go about fighting the golden king if had to for some reason?
The first and most obvious way to defeat him was through the use of Unlimited Blade Works. With that at his command the Shirou of that world had been able to actually force the golden king to the very brink of defeat. Unfortunately the option of that Reality Marble was still unavailable to him. His own inner world and that of Archer, or the other Shirou for that matter, were simply too different to be actualized upon the world by the same method. Granted the development of his own Reality Marble was now years ahead what it would be otherwise, but it would still be a long time before he could impose it upon the world.
That said his ability to project and sustain Noble Phantasms was far in excess of even Archer. While he might not be able to project Unlimited Blade Works into existence, he could use pure power to almost duplicate its effects with his own Tracing. It might not be quite enough to defeat the king of Heroes, but when one factored in the boost to his combat power that Dragon Slaying Hero gave him he was pretty sure that in close combat at least he would be able to overwhelm his foe.
The problem was that Gilgamesh was unlikely to fight him at close range. From what he could tell the golden kings favoured way of fighting was to simply rain Noble Phantasms down on his target until there was nothing left of them. In that situation Shirou's best bet would be to fight defensively while using Curses without End to inflict as many curses as he could upon his foe. That golden armour of his might increase his magic resistance, but he was willing to bet it would have a hard time dealing with some of the curses that he Authority could produce. Certainly his will and force of personally had been able to resist all attempts by Angra Mainyu to corrupt his mind and soul. But if those curses were aimed at his body instead then it would be no different from him fighting the spells of a Caster.
Also there was the option of using his Pegasus' kamikaze attack. If Gilgamesh opened the Gate of Babylon then he was rendered stationery himself. If he was focused on attacking Shirou then the Pegasus could attack him from behind before he could reorient himself. The eighth Campione wasn't entirely sure of how effective the tactic would be given the defensive powers of his armour and whatever shielding Noble Phantasms he might have.
The real problems in dealing with Gilgamesh were his two favourite Noble Phantasms, Enkidu and Ea. The first was what could be called an Anti Divinity weapon. In his memories he had seen it hold Berserker partly immobile while a rain of Noble Phantasms tore him out of existence despite his God Hand. Shirou wasn't entirely sure how much he counted as a divinity, but he could use 'the sacrosanct, divine powers wielded by the gods'. That might be sufficient to render him vulnerable to the Chains of Heaven's effects.
As for Ea . . . well, the less said about that impossible sword the better. Archer had seen many awesome powers in his existence, and in spite of that he had only ever seen two forces to match the Anti World weapon. The first had been what could only be described as an Anti God Noble Phantasm, one that surpassed Enkidu completely. The other had been the Type Mercury.
Shirou's mind instinctively recoiled from that memory. Gods were frightening, Gilgamesh was terrifying, but the ORT was an existence on an entirely different level.
Deliberately steering his thoughts the eighth Campione returned to his thoughts on Ea. In a way that sword was a game breaker, an absolute kill cheat. The only way to defend against it was to use something of equally ridiculous power. Avalon was the ultimate defensive Noble Phantasm, one that went beyond mere defence and instead made it wielder 'Untouchable' instead. In all honest Shirou didn't think that any of the powers he had gained or the weapons he could produce form the memories he had acquired could match that sword.
Fortunately even if he were to face Gilgamesh the chances of him actually using that sword were quite low. He only employed it against 'worthy' foes, and the Servant's ego was so towering that it would take something pretty monumental to make the young Emiya worthy of such an honour in his eyes.
With a sigh Shirou got to his feet and stretched. As he heard a few of his bone pop, he realized just how long he had been sitting there lost in his thoughts. It was already late morning, and he hadn't even had breakfast yet. Well Illya was still in bed most likely, that should give him time to throw something fairly simple together. Now how many eggs did he have left?
A knock on the door brought his attention back to the present and out of thought of cooking. Crossing over to the main door he opened it to see Yusuke standing there.
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid a fairly troublesome matter has arisen that effects both you and your sister sir. Could you please join me in my office as soon as you can? This is something that I'll have to discuss with both of you."
Shirou blinked, but then nodded his head.
"Just give me a couple of minutes to throw something together for me and Illya and I'll be right there.
It looked like some simple cut fruit would have to do.
-()-
There was a small island off the eastern shore of Japan. It was a tiny thing, large enough to support some grass and trees but not much else. Nothing more developed than an insect lived there permanently, though sea birds regularly stopped there. As far as the authorities were concerned the place simply merited a security beacon to warn off ships and that was it.
What very few people knew was that on that tiny island there was a shrine. One that had been prepared with the utmost care and precision, using high arts and secret knowledge that had since been long lost. The purpose of this small shrine was to guard the secret that rested beneath the isles surface.
Japan was called the Far East because it represented one of the outermost edges of the eastern continent. Because of this location the nation of Japan served as a sort of net, one that caught all the spirits, forces and gods that came drifting in from the west. One of the names for the land of the rising sun was the land of five million gods. While the number might be grossly exaggerated there was some truth to it, for the size it was the land called Nippon did indeed have a great many divinities existing upon it.
The god that slept here had been brought to this land by his wanderings centuries ago. He had torn his way out of his legend and descended to earth amidst calamity and destruction. At the time two different Campione had sought to defeat him, but in combat the Heretic God had emerged victorious over first one and then the other, and so the devil kings had fallen. He had freely rampaged then, but eventually he had calmed himself. Knowing he could not return to his legend but unwilling to enter the spirit world he had found this small isolated isle and buried himself beneath it in order to sleep.
Eventually the mystics of this land had divined his location using their arts. Sensing just how strong he was they had erected the small shrine on the island to ensure that his sleep would be undisturbed. The spells and prayers built into the shrines construction would ensure that the sleeping god would not be roused by outside forces. It was a master work of subtle manipulation of the islands natural energies.
Which was why it was so shocking when a small booted foot kicked the shrine over, causing the stone slabs that made it up to split and scatter on the ground.
The foot that had done the deed belonged to a young girl no more than ten or eleven years old. She was dressed in a long green coat which she wore fully buttoned up, and despite the summer heat there wasn't a hint of perspiration on her forehead. Her long blonde hair was worn in a mane of curling locks that reached all the way down to her hips.
Idly she flexed her power and sent a pulse of it to the god that slept beneath the land she stood upon. It had been most fortunate that she had stumbled across this find. Under normal circumstances the same shrine that had kept the sleeping god undisturbed would have also veiled his existence from the sight of even questing gods. However while researching Japan for her one of her worshippers had stumbled across an old text that made mention of a god who had defeated a Campione and then come to sleep on this tiny isle.
So she had sought this place out. The task had turned out to be far more fiendishly difficult than she had originally believed it would be. However she had once been a powerful Earth goddess. Despite how reduced she had become her powers were not so dulled that she could not use them to seek out the islands that dotted the coast. Once she had sensed them all she had simply had to visits them one by one until she found the object of her search.
Still, this had to be handled carefully. Certainly it was within her abilities to deliver a massive jolt of energy to the sleeping elder god and bring him immediately to full wakefulness. However, if she did so he would probably go into a raging frenzy as soon as he awoke. And since she would be the only worthwhile potential foe in the local area she would be the instant subject of his rage. She may be a power beyond any mortal, but if she were to face a true god in full battle she would be an ant before the juggernaut.
So instead of a powerful stab she instead used a gentle nudge. It would yield no immediate results, but it had begun the process of rousing the god t wakefulness. It might take longer this way, but when he returned to the world the god would be in a far more rational state of mind. A state in which, she hoped, she might be able to persuade him to aid her.
The same magic that had brought her here wrapped around her and carried her away. This had been important, of that she was sure. Gods that had managed to defeat a Campione were rare, especially one who had remained upon the mortal plane. If she could enlist his aid then there was an excellent chance that her plans would be able to proceed unimpeded.
She was not like her allied Divine Ancestor; she was not burdened with an almost crippling hatred of what she had become. Certainly she had every intention of regaining her former power, but she was far more interested in gaining revenge on the one who had reduced her in the first place. He had reduced her and then given her away to his ally like a cow that had been bought and then traded.
The object of her ire had been slain by a Campione and sent back into his legend. Well that was fine with her. Once she had reacquired her full might she would drag him from his myth and visit every torment the mortal world had to offer upon his flesh.
Nothing would be allowed to stand in the way of that.
Nothing.
-()-
Mariya Yuri was by nature a somewhat shy girl. She wasn't timid and she certainly had no lack of courage, it was just that when it came to putting forth her own opinions she was sometimes a little too hesitant. She also didn't like to raise her voice or put others down; Godou was actually one of the only exceptions to this rule. For some reason she had little trouble in berating him for his lecherous actions.
Anyway the fact was that it normally took a great deal of provocation to get her riled up.
"I still think this shrine is far too humble a place for you to be staying Kaida-sama. Surely the Committee could have found you a more suitable place of residence while you learnt what meagre knowledge this shrine maiden has to offer."
Ever so slightly Yuri's left eyebrow twitched. Right now she was dearly regretting the fact that she had never shown any aptitude for some of the more violent Miko arts. Right now the ability to seal somebody's mouth shut held a particular appeal.
"And why is it necessary for you to be the one to meet this new Campione? Surely there is someone that is more expendable available to take on the duty. This girl for example, she seems to get on well with one Campione, why not send her to the other one as well?"
The young Hime-Miko gritted her teeth and tried to find her centre. She would not lose her temper, she would not abandon her composure, she would not seize the girl's excessively long keychain that she kept on fiddling with and use to throttle her. No matter how attractive the image might be.
"I'm bored, this shrine is so dull. Maybe the Committee should knock down a few of those trees and put in another pond. At least then there'll be some koi to watch."
But it was hard, it was oh so hard. Yuri didn't often think harsh thoughts of others, but right now she was seriously beginning to contemplate murder.
"And why do you have to wear the same shrine robes as her? That shade of green does not suit either of you at all. It reminds me of a soup I ate while studying in Europe, hardly a very dignified colour to be dressed in you know."
Right that did it. She could endure comments about her shrine, her choice in hair style, her sweeping technique, and even insinuations about her relationship with Godou, but that was the straw that did in the camels back. There was going to be blood now. BLOOD!
However before the Hime-Miko could begin to even stand up for her seriously uncharacteristic act of violence the room's third occupant spoke up.
"Manaka, why don't you take a look around the local area, see if there are any shops or restaurants about that catch your interest. If there are perhaps we can go to them later."
Yuri was amazed at the change that came over the girl as soon as the other shrine maiden had begun to speak.
Kuhoutsuka Manaka was an adopted member of one of the Kuhoutsuka branch families. She was a tall girl of about seventeen or eighteen years of age with a slim build and long limbs. Her hair was a dark shade of brown and cut short to just below her ears. It parted over her face save for a single triangular lock that fell between her eyes. Those eyes were ice blue and were set in a face that while pretty could only be described as 'sharp'. She was dressed in a tight business suit that was the same dark brown as her hair except for the white shirt. The suit also hugged her body snugly, showing off pleasant curves. Though not as lush as some girls that Yuri had seen in the past, Manaka still had plenty to be proud of.
But what was most eye catching about her now was how much her attitude changed from how she had been just a moment before. Where she had previously been leaning against the wall of the small room now she was practically standing to attention with a look on her face that could only be described as eager. The change was so complete that it was akin to a true transformation.
"At once Kaida-sama, you can rely on me."
Then with a deep bow to the girl she had addressed and a quicker more perfunctory bow to Yuri herself she was out the door and heading off on her mission.
Silence reigned in the room for a moment, then the girl seated opposite to the young Mariya placed both her hands on the floor and lower her face until she was almost touching her fingers with her forehead.
"Please accept my sincerest apologies for Manaka's behaviour. I know that it might be impossible to believe but she really means no insult when she speaks like that. As far as she's concerned she's just speaking the truth, and those around her should feel obliged that she's being so honest."
Yuri felt her temper cool as she looked at the bowing girl before her. Renjou Kaida was not a tall girl, but neither was she short, in fact she was more or less the same height as Yuri herself. Her long midnight black hair was tied in a single thick ponytail that fell down her back to her thighs, except for two long forelocks that fell from her temples to her waist. Her eyes were a startling shade of green that put the shrine maiden in mind of a cat. Everything about her possessed a kind of porcelain beauty, but her warm personality seemed to make that beauty friendly and inviting rather stiff or cold. Aside from that Kaida had a figure that actually left Yuri feeling a little jealous. It was quite unusual for a Japanese girl to be as busty as the young Renjou; in fact the only other girl that the Hime-Miko knew that was equally blessed was her friend Seishuuin Ena.
Of course it was rather hard to harbour any kind of negative feeling for the other Hime-Miko for long. She was a nice girl, one so earnest about her task that it made one forget about anything that they might have held against her.
"It's alright Kaida-san, please don't worry about it."
With a thankful smile on her face the possessor of the Dragons Roar sat back up.
"Even so I am thankful for your understanding Yuri-sama. Though she means well I know that Manaka isn't the easiest person in the world to get along with."
And that was an understatement if ever she'd heard one. Still rather than speak her thoughts the young Mariya simply nodded once.
"Well, getting back to the reason for my coming here. I trust that you are aware of the arrival of the eighth Campione in Japan?"
"Amakasu-san told me about him this morning." Answered Yuri.
In all truth she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the arrival of another of the devil kings in Japan. For so long she had thought of Campione as ruthless tyrants that crushed all who stood in their way to dust.
Then she had met Godou and all her preconceptions had flown out the window. She wondered if she was being naive in hoping that this Emiya Shirou would also turn out to be a reasonable individual. She deeply hoped that was the case. If not then her friend might find himself facing off against another Campione, one who had slain three gods in the span of a single week. She wished she could have Erica's absolute faith in Godou's victory, but at the thought of him once more facing off against one of his fellow supreme rulers all she could do was suppress a shudder of fear.
"The Committee has decided that they need to establish communications with Emiya-sama and so have assigned me to become his aide and help facilitate communications between him and the Committee." She said it with such calmness, as though she didn't understand the gravity of the situation that she was in.
Actually there was a chance that she truly didn't understand. Unlike Yuri Kaida had been raised in relative isolation due to the uncontrollable nature of her special talents. Certainly she had been well educated and had regularly had contact with the other Hime-Miko that were part of the History Compilation Committee; however she was still unworldly and somewhat ignorant.
Yuri herself didn't think of herself as a particularly worldly person either, but even she could clearly understand what was taking place.
Kaida had been effectively given to the new Campione as a gift to do with as he saw fit. He could use her as a servant, take her as a concubine, use her as an amusement or discard her as trash. The only limit on what he could do to her was his own imagination really; aside from Godou there wasn't a single person on the entirety of Japan who could challenge him on it.
The young user of Spirit Vision drew a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. She knew that the Committee could be pragmatic, sometimes even ruthless, but for the most part they were a fairly moral organization. It was unlikely that they would have placed one of their more gifted Hime-Mikos in such a potentially dangerous situation without having done some sort of evaluation of the eighth Campione first. Most likely they had determined his character to be at least stable enough that he wouldn't pose an immediate danger to their envoy.
Oblivious to the somewhat dark thoughts running through her hosts mind Kaida continued to explain her reasons for coming.
"I thought that it would be best to be as prepared as possible, so I requested this meeting with you so that you could tell me what you know about Campione. To the best of my knowledge except for a couple of our overseas agents you've had the most contact with the kings."
"What did you want to know?" This was unexpected. She supposed it made a certain level of sense, but she had never expected anyone to come to her seeking sage wisdom.
"I understand that Yuri-sama has become Kusanagi-sama's lover, and that you were also taken prisoner the Marquis Voban-sama. Please tell me about both their characters, how you thought that becoming a Campione might have affected them. Do they share any common characteristics? Were there similarities in how they went about their business? Can you think of any details that might be relevant to my own upcoming meeting with Emiya-sama?"
The sudden flood of questions was so startling that Yuri had a bit of trouble lining her thoughts up enough to produce a coherent answer. Her thought process wasn't helped at all by the fact that her guest had produced a pair of glasses, a note pad and a pencil from the sleeves of her shrine maiden's garment. With the somewhat thick lenses perched on her nose, the paper and pencil poised in her hands and the fact that she had somehow shuffled closer to the subject of her attention Kaida gave the impression of being a member of the seedier side of the paparazzi. Yuri knew intellectually that her fellow Hime-Miko wasn't deliberately pressuring her for an answer.
Unfortunately intellectually and emotionally weren't the same thing by a long shot.
However despite the perceived pressure her mind focused on a single part of that questioning ramble.
"Who said I'm Godou-san's lover? We're . . . we're not like that. I-I'm just . . . We're . . ."
Unable to properly articulate the feelings that she had trouble understanding herself Yuri was reduced to incoherent mumbling.
Seeing how that line of questioning seemed to be upsetting her host Kaida backed off a little and reigned in her enthusiasm. She knew this was a bad habit of hers, once she got fired up about doing something she tended to give it her full and undivided attention, so much so that she tended not to notice the people that were getting steamrollled by her eagerness. Taking a deliberate hold of herself she drew a deep breath and shuffled her way back to where she had been seated.
"What would you say the most important thing to remember about a Campione is Yuri-sama?"
The question, delivered in a far more ordinary manner, was enough to draw the chestnut haired girl out of the ramble of denials and excuses that she had fallen into. She took a few moments to think about the question before answering.
"I think . . . the most important thing to remember is that Campione don't need to follow the same common sense as the rest of the world."
"They . . . don't have to follow common sense?" Kaida sounded a little doubtful of the answer she had received.
"Yes," Yuri nodded her head and confidence grew in her voice as she tried to articulate what she had felt while in the presence of both Voban and Godou when they had begun to cut loose with their Authorities. "Common sense says that it's impossible for mortals to go against gods. That's just how the world should work, gods stand above humans, that's the natural order, that's common sense. Campione are people who can . . . go against common sense. Some are like Lord Salvatori Doni, geniuses who can defy reality through sheer talent. In his youth the Marquis Voban didn't know any magic, yet he was able to slay a god and take his Authority through his own wits and bravery. Even Kusanagi Godou-san was able to defy conventional wisdom by defeating a god that had never known defeat.
"That's just how Campione are; they don't fit into any set mould because if they did then they wouldn't have become Campione in the first place."
Yuri was actually a bit surprised at how she was rambling on like this. Being so free with her thoughts was a little out of character for her. However while Kaida wasn't what she would call a friend she was a friendly acquaintance so the user of Spirit Vision felt a little more comfortable with her than she would with others. Her questions also gave Yuri a chance to voice some conclusions that she had been drawing up in the privacy of her own mind for the past few weeks.
"I don't know what kind of person Emiya-sama is Kaida, but if he managed to become a Campione then you can be sure that he is not any kind of normal person."
-()-
"I want it to be as regular as possible. Nothing fancy you understand? Just something normal."
Shirou, Illya and Yusuke were sitting in the office he had set up for himself in one of the manors many rooms. It was still a bit on the under-furnished side, but it was still a fairly convenient place to have a quick 'family' meeting.
The resurrected accountant had explained to them about the visit he had received from the truancy officer earlier that morning. He had explained that there were a number of ways that he could ensure it wouldn't be necessary for them to attend a school. Counterfeit documents could be produced to show they were being home schooled, he could even set them up as geniuses that had already graduated if they so wished. However Shirou had turned such ideas down.
When asked why he had said that when he returned to his home dimension he intended to return to school, so he couldn't afford to fall behind his classmates.
In all truth Illya found the idea to be slightly funny. Her brother had access to what amounted to unlimited wealth and yet he was still concerned with making sure that he was able to make it through public education honestly. There was also the fact that she was interested in going to school as well.
In the last few weeks she had entertained herself with watching television and playing computer games for quite a bit of the time. Given that her family had ensured that no such appliances had existed within their castle after Kiritsugu's supposed betrayal, she had never even seen them before she came to Japan. However it turned out that she had an odd talent for the devices, and as a result she had no trouble enjoying modern entertainment.
It had been while watching various anime that she had become familiar with the concept of a school. Certainly she had been aware of the idea of an institution of learning from her own education and from hearing tales of the Clock Tower. However from watching anime she had become aware of the ideas of social drama, of making friends and competing with rivals. Of school clubs and special events. And she had found, quite to her own surprise that the idea of going to school appealed to her enormously.
Having learnt of Shirou's desires Yusuke simply nodded and immediately produced a list of some of the finest schools in Tokyo. It would be no trouble at all, he assured them, to see them enrolled in whichever they so chose to attend. It had been this suggestion that had lead to the eighth Campione's response.
"You'd prefer to go to a normal school?"
"Yes, Illya and I are going to have to attend a school, I think it would be good for us. But I don't want to go to one of those schools were only the really rich can get into. I'd like us to go to a regular one, one where we can meet regular people who are just going about their regular lives." Shirou gave a sort of wry smile as he glance over at his adopted sister.
"Both Illya and I are Magi; we've both set up our own workshops and are doing our own experiments. Thanks to you and my Authority we don't have to worry about money. What we do need is something to keep us grounded, to make us remember that even though we've got magic we're not separate from everyone else. I've seen what happens to those who do start thinking like that, and it's not pretty."
"A regular school . . ." murmuring to himself the resurrected soul began to leaf through the papers on his desk.
As he did so the white haired girl was once again struck by just how competent Shirou's servant really was. He always seemed to be prepared no matter what came up. The very manor in which they were living was a good example. Normally it would have taken considerable time to both acquire and furnish it; Yusuke had managed to have it bought, prepared and ready to move into in less than a week.
"Ah, here we go." The accountant smiled as he found the paper he was looking for. "This school is a public one, but it has an excellent reputation for both the quality of the students and the quality of its staff. It's also not too far of, only about thirty minutes by car, so no having to get up too early to attend. With the summer holidays ending soon it shouldn't be any trouble to get both of you enrolled. If this school meets your approval I can have uniforms, student supplies and everything else you'll need ready well before term starts."
Shirou glanced over at her and seemed to ask her opinion with his eyes. For her part Illya hesitated for a second. She knew that she was growing up, and doing so faster than was really natural. What if she kept on maturing at this rate? If it kept up then this time next month she'd look about her natural age. But what then? What if it didn't stop? If she kept aging at that rate then she'd die of old age in about a year or so.
No, she mustn't think like that. The field within her was definitely benign in origin, she couldn't imagine that it would restore her to health and then accelerate her aging to kill at more or less the same point that she would have died at anyway. She would live her life as though it was a normal one now. If her aging kept up at its current rate . . . well she'd just deal with it as she had to when that happened.
With her heart resolved she gave a sharp and firm nod to her brother.
"That sounds like more or less what we want." Said Shirou with a small smile now tugging at his lips. "When does the new term start?"
"A week on Monday I believe. That should give me more than enough time to get everything ready."
"Alright, please see to it. Oh, and what's the name of our new school?" The young Emiya asked as he stood up.
"I believe it is called Jounan Academy, and it has both a middle and high school division, so you'll both be able to attend."
"Jounan Academy huh?" Shirou spoke the name as though tasting it. "Sounds nice and normal."
-()-
Athena stood on the roof of a building and gazed down at the lit window cross the street.
The apartment that she was staring at belonged to Kusanagi Godou and his younger sister. Right now they were sitting together and eating a meal in companionable silence.
Athena was being very careful not to alert her defeater as to her presence. To that end she was suppressing the flow of her divinity to the lowest level that she could manage. It was a little uncomfortable, rather like wearing a collar that was a bit too tight, but it ensured he was unaware of her existence so nearby.
In all truth she wasn't entirely sure why she was here. When her ally had mentioned that she had tested the abilities of the seventh Campione the goddess of wisdom and darkness had felt a surge of . . . jealousy? Irritation? Possessiveness? To a degree she understood it; Kusanagi Godou was HER prey, nobody else's. But that didn't explain her feelings though. If anything she should have been pleased, part of the reason for her decision to aid the pair of Divine Ancestors had been the opportunity it provided.
Her plan had been to use that opportunity to not only regain her full power, but also to drag Godou into further conflict with the pair of reduced deities. It would be a fine chance to ensure he gained further experience, to become embroiled in the combat that would draw out more of his potential. Her ally's actions tied into that plan quite nicely, so why did the thought of her attacking the dark haired boy irritate her so much?
For that matter why was she standing here watching the Campione? It made no sense and yet here she was. Athena was not an existence give to much introspection, by her very nature knowledge and wisdom came to her on demand. Trying to understand her own irrational actions was something quite new to her, and it was an experience that she was not enjoying at all.
She was a deity that was more than three millennia old; she had known many young men in her time. Some had been enemies, some had been allies, some she had even taken as disciples, but with each and every one of them she had been sure as to her feelings. However Godou seemed to defy any attempt to categorize him in her mind. He had defeated her utterly; he could have easily claimed her life and taken her Authorities. Likewise it had been in his options to take her as a bride, to reduce her to a Divine Ancestor and seal away her memories of being a deity. Instead he had allowed her to go free, with no conditions on her other than she ceased to spread her darkness.
It would have been so much easier if she had escaped on her own or had somehow bargained for her freedom. But no, the insufferably confusing boy had to defy all expectation and simply let her go with that blasted smile on his face.
The queen of darkness was not an emotive goddess, so she didn't punch a wall or tear at her hair or even let out a cry of frustration. Instead she simply frowned and continued to stare at the young man having his meal. One watching her would not have been able to see the turmoil that boiled within her.
She was going to ensure that the young Campione grew stronger, of that she was absolutely sure. And when she had regained her full majesty she was going to fight him again, that was another certainty in her mind.
It was what would happen after that fight that was a bit unclear to her.
-()-
In a dark room flickered a single lit candle. The light of that dancing flame illuminated walls covered by arcane symbols and lines of script. However these were not the ordered writings of one setting up wards or enchantments. The symbols were scrawled one on top of another, text ran in long lines that abruptly cut off only to resume on some other side of the walls. There was a kind of frantic energy to the markings, as though their maker had been so desperate to commit them to some sort of record that they had abandoned all sense of order in favour of speed.
The scrawl covered all four walls, the ceiling and even part of the floor. Some of it was in pencil, some in pen, some in paint with a thin brush, some of it was even written in blood where the writer had run out of implements but had been unwilling to stop long enough to get a new writing medium. In that case they had simply bitten off their own finger tips and continued to scrawl with the blood that had come leaking out.
There was only one inhabitant in the large room; he was the only one with a key to the massive lock that kept the room closed. Right now he huddled in a corner and used the light of his candle to look over a long list of calculations written on several large slips of paper.
If one were to look at the man it would have been easy to mistake him for some poor unfortunate from the streets. His clothes were stained and dirty and reeked of sweat and other bodily odours. His hair was long, greasy and matted, and hung about his face in locks like long hairy worms. His face was gaunt and hollow, his skin pasty and pale.
However if one were to look into his eyes they would see something completely at odds with the rest of his appearance.
Those eyes burnt. Within them were shining brilliance, fevered activity and searing madness. These were the eyes of a fanatic, of a man who was completely and totally devoted to one thing and one thing only.
"Yes," he muttered to himself as his eyes rapidly flicked from one sheet to another as well as occasionally darting to one of the walls before returning to the pages. "Pandora has full authority over who is chosen. Not alteration can be made to the ritual to change that fact."
The man's eyes suddenly snapped closed as his entire attention turned inwards, but words continued to flow.
"Gods have no equal, established fact. Fact changed by the introduction of a predator, Campione alter the rules, became akin to gods. Humans cannot stand against a Campione. Established fact."
His eyes snapped open again and he suddenly darted forwards, unmindful of the fact he was scrambling over the papers that had previously held his attention.
"The established fact can be changed. The introduction of a predator? What is the predator of a Campione? A god? No, gods are an equal and opposing existence. No, they are also prey, relation not properly defined. Gods die to Campione, but Campione do not always die to gods. They are not predators, they are prey that fight back. Bull? Bull that kills the tigers?
"To change the established fact a change must be made. No predator exists. Then this fact must change. What is the predator of a Campione? Campione, Campione, god-slayer, king, ruler devil, emperor, emperor, emperor, king, king, king. What is the enemy of the king? The rebel? The assassin? The thief? The thief, the thief, the thief. Steal from the king, take his treasure, take his power. What is a king without a kingdom? What is king without his crown? Crown, crown, steal the crown, steal the throne, steal the kingdom. Take it all leave them nothing, nothing, nothing nothing nothing nothingnothingnothingnothing .
"One who takes from the takers, a thief that beggars the king.
"A predator for the predator. It can be done, it was done before. Pandora did it, Epimetheus helped. They were gods, ritual impossible for mortals. Gods and gods and gods. Need gods to make it work; need power to make a predator. There are Campione, power like gods. Use the power of Campione? Make a predator from their flesh? Could work, should work. Two Campione in Japan now, first time two take the same city and stay there. Could work, could work.
"Could have predator, could have revenge, could have peace. Peace, peace and quiet, quiet, quiet and silent, silent like her. Her her her, why her? Why did it have to be her? Couldn't leave her alone, had to establish dominance. Nobody may go against a Campione, had to establish dominance, had to shut her up. Shut up shut up shut up; be quiet, so quiet, quiet and silent, silent as the grave, in the grave in the grave. Oh god she went in the grave. Why? Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, WHHHHYYYYY?
"She's quiet, so they should be quiet, all quiet, all the kings make too much noise, shouting, thundering, ordering, why must they order? Why must they be obeyed? Make them quiet, take their voices, take their thunder."
Even as his mad rambling continued the dishevelled man had pulled a marker from his pen and was scrawling a new line of symbols and text onto the bare patch of floor before him.
Once he had been a great man. A respected practioner of the mystic arts who had held a position of respect akin to that of Witch of Sardinia Lucretia Zola. Now here he was, a broken wreck, the result of the careless action of one of the Supreme Rulers. But within him still burnt the genius that had made him so famed, in fact his overriding obsession with vengeance now fed that same brilliance. The mind of a madman could conceive of things no sane intelligence could fathom.
As the candle guttered out a strange laughter began to fill the pitch black room. It was loud and jubilant, and yet at the same time it sounded so much like someone crying.
