The dust swirling around him. The shrieking of the blades as they collide and slide against each other. The sparks flying from those collisions. The pulsing pain emanating from his wounds on his body. This was all Shirou knew.

Actually, no. That wasn't all he knew. It was just all he could afford to pay attention to. Beyond the blades that were colliding against his own, there was a man. A self-proclaimed king, adorned in gold, looking down on him with hatred. Or at least, what Shirou thought was anger. It felt almost too childish to be anger.

It wasn't just him and the golden man either. Near him, dealing with the dust, the blades, the sparks, were his teammates. Saber and Rin. Rin was struggling, covered in a few wounds that slowly sapped her strength, while Saber was uninjured, blocking blades with grace. But the battle was taking its toll on all of them.

As the blades were disposed of, all of them being deflected into the ground, even more blades appeared. With a wave of the bizarre God Arc in his hand, the golden man produced a large number of the blades. With a wave of his free hand, those blades repositioned themselves, surrounding the trio in a dome of blades. And so, the blades came falling down once more, and Shirou engaged in his dance of blades.

But in his mind, Shirou was thinking. Looking for a chance, an opportunity to turn the tide against the arrogant King. He had an opportunity, but he wasn't sure if it would always be there. Between the time when all of the blades had been dealt with and new blades were positioned around them, there was a second wide gap, maybe not even that, where the attacking ceases and the king is vulnerable. Whether it was a legitimate weakness, a limit on the number of blades he can control at once, or just arrogance, Shirou was going to abuse it.

As the blades descended, Shirou began to channel Oracle into his God Arcs. It was a risky manoeuvre, as there was no guarantee they wouldn't shatter, but he had to do it. His God Arcs called out in pain, but all he could do was silently apologize. As he was blocking the oncoming blades, he noticed that they didn't have the same force as they did before. In fact, his strikes seemed to almost break them. This was the effect Shirou forgot about, his ability to 'reinforce' his blades with Oracle, letting them hit harder. The last time he used it was against Berserker if he remembered right.

As he was blocking the blades, he eventually found his shot. When he struck away the final blade, he spun towards the golden man. In the same breath, he forced the Oracle out of his God Arcs, two neon-green blades flying forth. As they neared the so-called king, however, Shirou realized his mistake. For in the next moment, his blades were blocked by the king's own, as he looked down on him with a cruel grin.

Gilgamesh was mad, but that anger was slowly being turned to boredom. After all, seeing the same thing happen over and over again had a habit of becoming mind-numbing. However, he was still angered by that damn Faker's continued existence, so he continued to drown him in segments.

He was hoping for something interesting to happen, maybe from Saber, when he produced another wave of segments. It was, however, the Faker that continued to steal his attention. Instead of fighting as he had been, slowly becoming weaker from the continued activity and the wounds peppering his body, his strikes became unexpectedly strong. The segments he confronted were merely batted away, like sticks.

While a part of him felt angry at how the Faker was treating his segments (although he doesn't necessarily treat them better), another part of him felt cautious. The Faker's enhanced strength certainly didn't mean anything good for him, and as such, Gilgamesh brought some of his segments over and prepared them to defend. When the final segment was deflected, that's when the Faker acted. He spun around and swung, blades of energy flying. But he was prepared. With a wave of his hand, they were deflected by his segments.

As they flew in opposing directions, he looked down upon the Faker, a cruel grin dancing on his face. It, however, changed to a look of annoyance at the Faker's expression. Instead of fear, anger, or even despair, all that happened was his eyes widening, before they were set back into a look of determination. Then he did what Gilgamesh could only describe as a foolish move.

He threw his God Arcs at him.

When his Oracle blades were deflected by the golden man's own, Shirou felt annoyance. Looking at the king's grin, Shirou realized that he wasn't exactly subtle when he charged up his attack. So, he was annoyed with himself. But he refused to let that annoyance show on his face, which rewarded him with the king looking annoyed.

Aside from that, the best thing to come of his attempt was a longer reprieve than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rin swallow a Restore Pill, the wounds on her body ceasing to bleed and even closing up. Saber was breathing a little bit heavier, but looked fine for the most part. She noticed him looking and sent him a nod. He responded in kind before looking back to the golden man.

He had lost his opportunity, so now he had to make a new one. But there was no way to know how long they would have before the king began to hammer them with more blades. So, there was only one option. Press the 'advantage', if it can even be called that, and try to keep him off balance. So Shirou did the only thing he could think of.

He threw his God Arcs at him.

Shirou knew it was very stupid. The expression on the man's face showed how dumb his plan was. If Shirou could see Saber and Rin's faces, he was certain the stupidity of the action would be shown on their face. But he had a plan.

When the self-proclaimed king snapped out of his confusion, he quickly brought up blades to deflect the thrown God Arcs. As he did, Shirou began to run towards him. The king looked at him in shock and then disappointment. Raising his hand, he brought two blades to hover behind him before shooting them at Shirou.

Shirou kept running, on a collision course with the two. He sidestepped the first then the second, bopping to the right then the left. Gilgamesh brought out even more. But before he could launch them towards Shirou...

"There!"

The golden king spun around, blocking the two Oracle blades with his own, sending them flying off once again. Before he could call out some mocking jeer, he turned around to find Shirou grimacing. The reason was obvious. In his hands were the two Oracle blades that were just deflected. But he wasn't holding them in the traditional way of holding a sword.

The blades had cut into his hands, deep enough that they almost went straight through his fingers and palm. Luckily, it seems his bones were strong enough to hold them without just being cut apart. Blades in hand, Shirou continued to run towards the gold king.

As he ran, the firing continued with greater intensity. Instead of an ever increasing number of blades surrounding him, the king began to rapid-fire them, causing Shirou to lose some of his momentum. He blocked some, he dodged others, and all the while he was trickling Oracle into his blades, making them stronger, larger, and a deeper green. Eventually, he came close to the cliff where the king was standing, but found he had no way to reach him.

"Shirou!"

Suddenly, a flash of gold and a bang. Before his eyes, Excalibur had been thrown and landed blade first into the cliff face, causing cracks to appear but also acting as a foothold. It also had the benefit of causing the king to stumble. Shirou took the opportunity given to him, and ran. He jumped towards the wall and then jumped off of it, towards the God Arc.

Landing with his feet on the blade, he saw that he was close enough to jump to the top of the cliff, only...

"You... damn... Faker!"

The king, no longer stumbling, threw his hand forward, pulling blades towards Shirou and firing. Shirou couldn't dodge due to the little legroom, nor could he block every blade that came. As he struck a few down, some appeared from directly above him, in his blind spot. As they descended...

"Shirou!"

A black and red blast of Oracle struck the area above his head. The blades that came for him had been blown away, and the cliff had suffered more damage, a hole being present above his head. Once more, the king was destabilized, and Shirou took his shot. He jumped upwards, hooking his foot into the hole, before jumping once more, sending him above the king. In the air, he brought both God Arcs above his head.

Gilgamesh, having recovered quicker this time from the mongrel's attack on the cliff, brought forth segments to defend him, while also deploying segments behind him to rip apart that damn Faker once he was defenseless. But as the Faker's blade collided with his segments...

Boom!

The blade exploded, destroying his segments. At the same time, a whistling to his right alerted him to one of the Faker's God Arcs flying straight towards him. He brought up more segments to deflect it, and almost fell over because of the force of the blade. As he did, he thought he heard the Faker mutter something.

"Our strength rips the mountains..."

Immediately after, Shirou brought down his left Oracle blade, causing it to collide with the king's other blades. Like before, he flooded it with Oracle, causing it to become unstable, then he let it go, allowing it to explode, destroying the king's blades and wounding his hands.

At the same moment, Bakuya returned, also being deflected by the king's blades, but just barely as the King was completely off kilter. This time, instead of letting the God Arc fly away, Shirou pulled it towards him, grabbing it with his bloody palm. As he did, he muttered out another line of the poem.

"Our swords split the water..."

Planting both feet on the ground, Shirou made one final burst towards the king and brought up his blade.

Gilgamesh watched as the Faker's blade rose, slowly, inch by inch. Eventually it reached an apex before descending. Gilgamesh tried pulling as many segments as he could, but there were none that could get between him and the Faker in time. As the blade came near, he brought up his own God Arc, his Ea, to defend.

Bakuya clanged against the king's strange God Arc, unable to cut through. It was, however, enough to knock him further off balance. Reaching out his other hand, Shirou called to the discarded Kanshou. As he did so, he got ever closer to the king, well within his guard. As he looked at Shirou with anger in his eyes, Shirou let a slight smirk pass his face, before pulling his head back then launching it forward, delivering a wicked headbutt. As blood welled from the king's nose, Kanshou landed into Shirou's left hand, prompting him to finish the battle.

Gilgamesh felt pain flaring along his face, felt something warm dribbling on his lips, and felt a stinging in his eyes. (He was not crying! A King should never cry!) He was eventually able to crack open an eye, only to see the Faker. (That damn Faker.)

The Faker looked at him with his steel grey and golden eyes, determination twinkling in them like stars. (That damn Faker.)

His blade as white as the moon and his blade as black as night were poised to strike him down, held in a cross. (That damn Faker.)

Even if he was struck down, he would make sure to punish the Faker in kind. With a wave of his hand, segments of his Ea arrayed behind him ready to strike. (That damn Faker!)

Then the Faker brought the blades down. (Damn him!)

Shirou brought down his God Arcs. The king was somehow able to bring his own upwards, but was only able to block one. The other kept flying directly towards its target and struck true.

It had cut deep into the king's right arm. Straight through the armour, the only thing keeping it attached was the bone. As he screamed out in pain, Shirou quickly forced what little Oracle he had left into the blade.

Looks like I won't be able to finish that poem. That was all Shirou could think in the situation as he brought his now reinforced God Arc onto the king's arm, severing it from the rest of his body. As he did, however, he felt pain bloom along his back.

Reluctantly, he screamed in pain. The feeling of his skin being parted, his muscles torn and his bone splintered, was too much for him. As his arm fell to the floor, he felt his connection with his Ea begin to fade. Before it did, he called down the segments he had left floating behind the Faker, taking no small amount of pleasure at his surprised and pained expression.

Feeling his connection to Ea fade to almost nothing, Gilgamesh stumbled away, biting back another scream and instead looked at the Faker with a glare, his eyes burning red, and yelled,

"My name is Gilgamesh! Remember it, you damn Faker! For the next time we meet, I shall kill you myself!"

His piece being said, he walked away (like a coward) intent on returning to Kirei and having him fix this. He better be able to fix this, or there would be hell to pay.

Shirou looked up from the floor towards where the disarmed king was walking way. His name was Gilgamesh. That stuck out in his mind, alongside the pain all over his body. There was a blade in his left shoulder, one in the small of his back, two in his right arm, and another in his right side. The rest of the blades all fell around him.

Or at least, there were blades. But they were slowly fading, leaving several gaping wounds peppering Shirou. All that remained was the God Arc that Gilgamesh dropped. He moved to get up, but found that he couldn't, nor did he really want to. Instead, the call of sleep seemed to be calling him. So he slowly closed his eyes, letting rest claim him.

As had become common of whenever he was incapacitated in combat, when he opened his eyes he was greeted by the plain of blades. Sitting up, he was once more on the hill, Unlimited Blade Works planted proudly in the ground of sand and grass. And standing next to him, clad in his red coat, was Archer.

"Hey, Archer. Good to see you."

He looked down to Shirou, emotion sparkling in his steel grey eyes. The most prominent emotions being worry and... relief? Shirou wasn't great at telling how someone's feeling beyond worry, anger, sadness, happiness, and surprise, so relief was a bit out there. But something inside him, a gut feeling, was telling him that was the case.

"It's good to see you again as well, Shirou Emiya. But honestly, could you not wait to see me? We only saw each other a few days ago."

He said this with a smirk, but the worry in his eyes remained. Shirou took a deep breath, and decided to confront Archer on something he should have ages ago.

"Hey, Archer. I need to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Who... no, what are you?"

Silence greeted his question. Shirou saw Archer's expression become conflicted, before he smoothed it out and answered casually.

"I am your God Arc, Unlimited Blade Works, but prefer to be called Ar-"

"That's not what I mean."

Now Shirou was standing, looking Archer right in the face. The two were now almost the same height, Archer still having a few centimetres on him. Speaking with a calm tone, Shirou asked again.

"What are you Archer? Not just as my God Arc, nor as my partner. Why do you look the way you do? Why do you look like me? Why do I look like you? Why have I known what you looked like since that day in the hospital? Why did you take the name Archer? Why are my abilities similar to the man that claimed to be Archer? Please, just tell me."

At the deluge of questions, Archer couldn't help but sigh. Nodding to Shirou, he took a step back and sat down. Instead of lying with his back against his blade counterpart, he sat cross-legged, facing Shirou. Shirou did the same. Like this, the similarities between the two became more apparent, especially with the way the two sat, being identical.

"Hah. Well, I'm not sure where to begin. I am your God Arc, a manifestation of the personality within, born of the connection between you and the Aragami that makes your God Arc. But I've existed longer than the God Arc has, right?"

Shirou nodded, offering his own experience with Archer. His early memory of a man with white hair, when he came up with his name. His memory of that same man wielding two swords in a distinctive style. The memory of that man kneeling, speaking fast enough that his words were impossible to understand, except for his final words. And the memory of him, bow in hand, yelling out the name of his arrow.

Archer looked vaguely uncomfortable at the memories before he just decided to be honest with what he knew.

"The first thing I remember was suddenly waking up. Here, specifically." He waved his hand around, gesturing to the plain of blades around them. "There were things I did know, and things I didn't. I knew I wasn't a human, but the extension of one. I knew that the two of us were the same, despite being different entities. I knew what you looked like, but not if I looked like you, or you like me. I didn't know what my true form was, but knew it would finish as two blades of black and white."

He put his palm on his face and rubbed, trying to make sense of what he did know and what he didn't. Shirou was looking at him, a confused expression on his face. He likely couldn't make heads or tails of it any more than Archer could.

"I didn't know the name Unlimited Blade Works, but knew Archer. I knew the connotations behind the name, as well as the other classes, but not who was in those classes. It wasn't until you took up your God Arc that I felt a proper connection to you. I could see what you see, hear what you hear, understand what you think. But I wasn't certain how to get you to hear me. Then, you fell into that coma, and I materialized. The four closest to your heart, that could Resonate with you, saw me."

A wry smile appeared on Archer's face, remembering the brief but pleasant time he spent with the four. Shaking his head, Archer delivered his answer to the original question.

"I have been with you since before you had a God Arc. Therefore, I'm not just your God Arc... Do you remember the Bias Factor that Sakaki told you about? The one he said Kiritsugu gave you?"

"Yeah. It was classified as Avalon. It was derived from Saber's own Bias Factor, and was intended to give the recipient a healing factor. It rarely worked, instead killing them by causing the body to work too hard, suffering Oracle poisoning. It was a safer version that they had developed but didn't test that I was injected with."

Archer nodded. If Avalon was experimental, it would have killed Shirou. And even if it hadn't, it shouldn't have resulted in his existence. It would have only worked if...

"Do you know about God Eater children? The children of God Eaters, that end up being born with Oracle Cells. It's possible that you were one as well. That the union of Avalon and your natural Oracle somehow resulted in my birth. But I'm not entirely sure."

When he said that, Shirou took on a thoughtful look. What he was told was both confusing and significant, but in the end he only had one question to ask.

"Why do I have similar abilities to Gilgamesh?"

Archer looked surprised, before thinking about it. With a shrug, he answered,

"I'm not sure. It likely has something to do with why I was Archer."

Archer looked to Shirou to see his reaction. He wasn't expecting the best, after all he mostly gave a bunch of non-answers. But what he did get surprised him. Instead of getting more questions, or a doubtful look, Shirou just shrugged.

"Alright."

"Alright? That's it?"

"That's it."

A silence spread between the two, mostly because of Archer's own confusion. Eventually, he just gave up with a sigh.

"I suppose I should have expected that. You are quite trusting, Shirou Emiya. That can be dangerous."

"It can, but why wouldn't I trust you? You're my partner, aren't you?"

The simple reasoning halted whatever response Archer would have given. Before long, he began to laugh. It was a nice laugh, right from the diaphragm. Shirou looked vaguely insulted. When Archer stopped laughing, he looked to Shirou's face, set in an almost-pout and laughed some more. Eventually, when he was done, he smiled at Shirou and said three simple words.

"Thank you, Shirou."

The expression stunned Shirou. It was similar to the one he saw on Kiritsugu's face, all those years ago. Not just that, but being thanked, not just as a nameless saviour but as himself. Being thanked as Shirou Emiya. Something stung at his eyes, but he ignored it and smiled at Archer.

"You're welcome, Archer."

Just then, Shirou became illuminated, before a flash of light appeared. As Shirou felt himself awaken, he heard one last message from his partner.

"See you later, Shirou."

Looking up with a satisfied smile, Archer watched as the plains around him shifted. The sky became an even brighter blue, the various gears in the sky turning faster as if oiled. Looking to the floor, he saw the grass become a fuller green, and more lush. Not just that. It seemed to overtake the sand that made up the rest of the plain, leaving a few patches.

Where Shirou sat on the hill, there was only a small amount of sand remaining, just enough to make a circle as wide as a person. Archer sighed, before smiling once more.

"It's a step in the right direction."

Opening his eyes, Shirou was greeted by the sight of an off-green ceiling. The shuffling to his left alerted him to the presence of others. Looking over, he saw Saber and Rin, with Rin covered in a few bandages, Illya sitting in a wheelchair with Sakura behind her, and Sakaki, standing there with clipboard in hand. The sound of him looking over must have been louder than he thought, as the group of people within turned to him at once, shocked.

As Shirou slowly pushed himself up, the occupants of the room moved closer to him. But they seemed hesitant on something. Before Shirou could ask what was wrong, he felt something make its way down his cheek. Touching it, he drew his hand away to see what it was, only for his fingers to be wet.

"Shirou, are you..."

It was Sakaki that spoke. His expression was particularly one of concern. The reason was clear. He may not have known Shirou for as long as Sakura or Taiga, but he did know from his talks with Kiritsugu that Shirou wasn't the sort to do such a thing.

It was an odd realization for Shirou. He was crying. The last time he cried was when Kiritsugu died, and even then it wasn't much. Not only was he crying, his face couldn't resist the smile that was breaking through. Looking away from the others in embarrassment, he coughed into his fist, before looking back.

"Ah, sorry. I'm back."

Thank you for reading. This is Cee and, stuff happened. Gil dealt with (for now), answers given, more stuff that I will probably never explain being said, and I feel great.

I also name dropped Avalon (the more things change, the more they stay the same, huh?) and let Shirou be happy. I wonder if that happiness will persist. Ah well, I'll find out next week.

Thank you to RandoFox for favouriting the story.

Goodbye.

Word count: 4102