A/N: Here is the rewrite/edit for chapter 1. Again I hope it is well received like my original chapter was. This chapter is still in first person and so will future chapters unless if the pov is being switched to another character besides Shirou. My beta and I thought it would be best to write like that.

XxXxXx

"Oh, Greater Grail… Humankind needs salvation, yet they constantly eat each other and stomp on each other to grow and advance, much like Ouroboros. I have come to terms with my failure during my rebellion, and I strive for salvation! So I, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, no, Shirou Kotomine ask of you! Bring me forth to a land in need of salvation for this one is too far down the path of destruction to be saved. Lead me to a rebellion where I may bring about true justice, as penance for the hopes of the people I have failed!"

The omnipotent power of the Greater Grail answers my request, and I find myself being embraced by a golden light filled with so much Prana that I think my body was going numb from a state of bliss. The light swarms into my eyes blinding me as I feel it seep into every single inch of my body, spreading its warmth throughout me, and as soon as it comes the golden light vanishes with the euphoria it brings with it. No longer am I Shirou Kotomine, Master of Assassin of Red, victor of the Great Holy Grail War, standing in the ruins of the crumbing Hanging Gardens of Babylon. As my vision returns to me, I find myself in a completely new environment.

I am no longer in the destroyed golden throne room just moments prior, but in a small little alleyway that seems to lead to a market. From the loud bustling sounds of people coming from the end of the alley, the Greater Grail must have transported me to some sort of section of a city or town. I check my own person to make sure I haven't received any unnoticed injuries from my fight with Saber.

It would be a shame to have won the war, only to have perished from lack of attention.

My executor garb seems untouched, though a bit dusty. My holy shroud is undamaged as well, and I still have six Black Keys on me, in case if I run into unsavory situations. My Prana levels ar-

"Goodbye..."

I shake my head to resist the temptation to lament over my loss. I never expected it to hurt so much to lose Semiramis, but what is important is the now.

'Eh? The Mana around here is strange... almost overflowing, in fact...'

That thought brings a smile to my lips. The salvation I wanted to grant to this world will be so much easier to complete without any interference from the pesky Gaia. Really, this is why humans were so interesting. Rather than working together with their surroundings, to be in harmony with nature and wildlife, they chose their own path and seek to conquer everything they laid their eyes upon. This carnivorous nature partly explained the... say, tumultous relationship with the planet (and other planets as well, judging from how the other TYPES react to humanity).

In that aspect, this world's representation of Alaya is much stronger than he/she/it previously, relative to Gaia.

'About that... are those the correct nomenclature around here? I should che- No, I'm getting quite distracted.'

To my relief, Semiramis's sacrifice was not in vain. About 40% of my reserves have returned from using my Noble Phantasm, and it's filling very rapidly due to the low resistance from Gaia. Unrelated to my Prana levels, my body feels refreshing... stronger, tougher, faster, younger than before. This anomaly should be checked much later, I suppose, after I find some accomodations.

'Geez, I'm thinking like an old man already...'

Making my way out of the dark and damp alleyway, I enter the bustling crowd of the market before me.

XxXx

It is already night. I spent the entire day collecting information regarding the conditions of this world, mainly geographical, cultural and political datas. This world would be called strange and fictious to the ones used to my original world, however, my time in the Throne of Heroes taught me that there're endless permutations of the world as we know it. One single choice made by someone, or one accident happening due to pure chance, or one whim of the ruler and gods could substantially change how a particular world develop, and, in the end, how it will end up.

This world is a combination of medieval culture and steampunk-like modern technology. People dress conservatively (barring some... specialized occupations), the houses are done mainly by timber and stone, and horses are the main choice of transportation. However, the rich can afford a tour in a freaking cruise liner, guns are commonplace in wars, and I even heard an absurd rumour about how the current empire has developed a... well, basically a MECHA!

Calm, calm. Talking about the empire, it cannot be missed that the current King is horribly inadequate, and is just a pawn in the current Prime Minister's chessboard. Also, the bloodlust from the people directed to the Prime Minister is so thick I can poke it with my tongue. A very normal and human-like response, if the stories and news I heard were at least 50% correct. A disgustingly ironic name too for the fat basterd: Honest.

Honestly, pun intended, he's just become my number one target.

Extortion, pillaging, rape, corruption, murder, kidnapping, torture, and so many others that I don't care mentioning brought my mind back to my previous life. The nobles were corrupt, lowly parasites that lived off the blood and tears of those beneath them. The government never cared more than what was put into their mouth and pockets, or what their genitals were put into. The officials were the devil's henchmen; all of them drunk and inefficient unless they're doing something to work the people's body to death.

For what was the nth time, I felt my own emotions swirl into a storm, before channeling that energy into cold-blooded efficiency. I don't know whether it's because of the strange surroundings, the different culture, or the fact that the person I cared about died just yesterday, but recently I gave more and more into what my heart was saying, instead of what my head told me to do. I recognize this wasn't an entirely bad thing; after all, many heroes drawn more strength to do what was theoretically impossible for them just by feeding of these feelings.

I fully intend to milk it for all its worth, while at the same time operating with a cool and sound mind. I don't want to end up in some tragic-ending legend... well, in this life, at least. Leaving behind a tragic legend once should be enough for anyone after all.

Finally, it seems that there is already a rebellion going on. The rebel forces are calling themselves The Revolutionary Army, so they must at least have some sort of military strength and size with a title like that. They also have a black ops department, which goes by the name Night Raid. Supposedly, judging by their name, they always strike in the cover of the night, killing evil and bringing justice to the defenseless populace.

I sarcastically sneered in my mind. 'Some assassins they are... A black ops group shouldn't have its name known, or even had their faces recognized and put on wanted posters in front of me.'. Ah, maybe my standards are too high for this world?

I turned my attention to analyzing the faces described in the posters.

Najenda. White, short hair with an eyepatch on her right eye. Prostethics for her right arm, and former general of the Empire. Highly dangerous, top priority.

Akame. Very young and beautiful lady, apparent even through a sketch. Described as a lithe girl with long black hair and red eyes, just like her name. Carries a Teigu with her, called Demon Sword Murasame. Highly dangerous, top priority.

Bulat. Former top soldier of the Empire with an extravagant pompadour on his head, how he can maintain hair like that I will never know. Main weapons are the Teigu armour Incursio and a spear. His alias is the Hundred Men Slayer. Highly dangerous, top priority.

Well, I take it back. The only reason they're on this poster is because they have past connections with the empire. Other than the above description, all the words in the posters are just speculations and exaggerations, although the general mass will be fooled quite easily by them. They're much more competent than I thought, since of course you can't run a black ops department with just three people.

'Or can you? I heard the Hashanshins employ incredibly small numbers for their operations... I suppose I'll have more information tomorrow.'

"I might as well find someplace where I can stay the night. Although I have a Servant's body, I don't have the option of spirit form, and sleeping on the floor doesn't seem very pleasant."

Looking farther down the street, I see a stopped carriage with a couple of guards and a young teenage girl, probably no older than sixteen, helping a teenage boy of the streets. In most cases, I would have run it off as someone trying to be a good samaritan. The girl though is obviously nobility, making me already wary of her intentions. Secondly, what set me off is her smile. That smile she had on her face didn't promise help; it promised pain and death.

However, she isn't the only one capable of being a manipulator here.

I steadily approach the girl, wearing my best impression of a saint. Oh, wait, I am a Saint already...

"Hello, ma'am. I noticed you were helping this young man here, and I was wondering if I may also ask if you can extend your generosity to me as well? I am not from around here, and I am trying to find a local church, to no avail. I can work my keep if you very well need me to." I see the delight in her eyes, and I know I had her. What a fool.

The girl, whom I figured out is named Aria, brings me and the boy named back to her mansion. I must say it was quite large, but it had nothing on Semiramis' Hanging Garden of Babylon. After we arrived, Aria rushes me and the boy to meet her parents for dinner, but my already-crushed appetite is completely gone by the time I met them.

Aria's parents are no better than her. They present smiles that on the outside sung songs of good will and intentions, but to a trained eye like mine, I knew they were corrupt and rotten. What a shame. The boy probably views them as his savior, for they gave us a place to stay and food for the night. I wonder when they'll finally show their true colors?

One of Aria's guards leads me and the boy to one of the many guest rooms to share for the night. We both thank them for their hospitality before getting ready to retire for the night. I am currently on a mat I found in the closet that I rolled out, letting the boy take the bed. I am ready for Morpheus's embrace to take me, but the boy has other plans.

"Hey, so what's your name?"

I roll around to face the boy, staring into his green eyes with my grey ones.

"Where I'm from, it is polite to give your own name before asking others their own," I reply.

The boy seem slightly taken aback by my reply before chuckling slightly, giving me a cheeky smile. "Hehe, sorry. My name is Tatsumi. Yours?"

I was amused by his innocent demeanor. "I am Shirou Kotomine. It's a pleasure to meet you, Tatsumi. What are you doing here in the capital, by the way?" This conversation slightly erases my sleepiness, so I'll use this moment to gather more information. First, I need to have him lower his guard around me, although it doesn't seem to be too difficult.

"I noticed you had a sword, so you must be a skilled swordsman...? I'm curious as to what a strong individual like yourself is trying to do," I press on with a smile. Lead him into a false sense of security, and get him to give you information. A simple tactic. Seeing the embarrassment on his face from my praise and innocent question, I can tell it's working.

The boy named Tatsumi rubbed the back of his head with his right hand. "Well, you see…"

Tatsumi starts to tell me how his village is suffering from heavy taxes being imposed by the capital, so he and two of his friends, Sayo and Ieyasu, left for the capital trying to make money to send back to his village. Currently, he is trying to regroup with his friends after they got separated during a bandit attack in the middle of the night, which is apparently a common occurrence outside the walls of the capital. A noble endeavor, and one that I can't help but respect. The boy was full of naivete, but he had a good head on his shoulders.

It's a shame I couldn't meet him earlier in my life. Back then in Japan, we would've gotten along great. Two youths, brimming with optimism and strength; with him as my supporter, perhaps the outcome would've been different.

All I can think of right now is how to use this boy and play him according to plan.

Really, such a shame.

After he told me his tale, he quickly fell asleep. Now that I was awake after conversing with Tatsumi, I figured I might as well explore this mansion.

Well, now that I think of it, I can really see how commoners' taxes are wasted in this house. Gold and silver gilded the chandeliers, pillars of marble, expensive and authentic-looking artworks; this family have them all. I'm surprised that Tatsumi didn't blow out and rant about this waste of money, given his background, and then proceed to bash their head in for the apparent corruption and robbery of the masses. But, well, a full meal and warm right after he's stranded on the street might have dulled his head.

However, it seems the one thing that they skimped on the money is the guards. For a mansion this size, they have just the right amount of guards to patrol around the area, but a single look at them and it's apparent that the guards are just some hired muscle off some dark alley somewhere. Sure, they're trained, but training and real ability are world's apart. As such, it's far too easy to slip by every single one of the guards in the mansion. I'm tempted to execute them all, along with Aria and her parents as well, but considering Tatsumi is still here, my plan has to be done later, maybe in a few days.

The mansion has a typical layout for western buildings that are strangely similar to the ones in my world, in a sense that the width of the building surrounds a large garden in front and behind the house, like the letter 'H'. Again, however, I'm quite disappointed about the defense around here. There are no traps at all laying around, not even a non-fatal one that rings the alarm or something. Really, these nobles in this world are either far too cocky for their own good, or far too stupid to make use of it.

Especially around that suspicious-looking shed before me. Made from wood, which in itself wouldn't be too uncommon; however the design itself is a complete deviation of the style of the mansion. No windows or any form of ventilation, and located so far away from the main path that cuts through the garden to make it impractical to retrieve anything inside the shed to and from the main house. Again, either they are stupid... or what's inside of it is never meant to be taken out in the first place.

The scent of fresh and rotting blood assaults my nose as I open the door. Locked, of course, but I simply break it.

The sights inside makes me regret not slaughtering everyone on the way here.

To be frank, the shed could pass as a normal slaughterhouse-slash-meat-factory in my world, judging from the slabs of meat hanging from various hooks and chains, along with the storage boxes lining the wall. The interior temperature is nicely kept cool and dry, perfect for storing meat. To achieve this environment without the use of modern equipment, and with an old building design, I have to give props to the architect.

But they're are humans.

Not human meat, or carcass that have been butchered and filleted like what normal people find in a slaughter house.

Corpses. Corpses everywhere.

Old, young, man, woman, kids, fair-skinned, dark-skinned; whip lashes, amputation, slash marks, burnt flesh, gouged eyes, twisted limbs; acid smell, rotten smell, sulphur smell, ferrous smell.

I don't feel sick.

I'm livid.

A cough from the side snaps my mind back to reality.

Ah, it turns out the boxes that line the wall aren't boxes. They're cages. Filled with humans.

Really, with this amount of self control I should be a Saint twice over.

The cough came from a boy about Tatsumi's age. Black hair, brown eyes, solid built for a teenager. He is curling inside one of the cages, which isn't unusual considering their size.

I hurried over to his side. Observing closer, something becomes evident to me. His complexion is terrible, with spots of green between the pale skin. The color isn't consistent with bruises from blunt weapon. His breathing is ragged, and judging by the uneven way his chest heaves for air, it is caused by broken ribs. Reinforcing all five of my senses, I sense his erratic heartbeat and muscle movement. This boy has been beaten and tortured, sure, but that treatment isn't fatal.

He's ill. Not much long to live, either.

Looking around, it's not a surprise, really. Kept in a closed environment with a mountain of corpses? Yeah, that would be unhygienic, in a most understated way.

The boy is trying to say something, all while holding back his pain. He looks at me with a desperate look in his eyes, but it's not a desperation to live.

He's telling me to run.

I reach into the cage, gently squeezing his shoulder for reassurance. It is likely that the boy knew about his terminal condition, and in this final moments still thinks about the safety of a stranger like me.

My conviction is never stronger.

"You… You're not one of them right? Please, you have to leave. They'll kill you! They already got Sayo..." The boy said intermittently between breaths.

Sayo, that was the name of the girl that Tatsumi was originally travelling with as well. So... this boy is... Ieyasu?

"I'm already done for. I'm ill... slowly... but Tatsumi... they don't have Tatsumi yet. I-If you see him... tell him to leave the capital. It's an evil place!"

I want to pity him. I want to console him, to pray for him. I pray to God, futile as it is through my life, to grant this boy release. But... I don't pray for His judgement.

For I am, I am.

I am the Hammer. I am the edge of His sword. I am the tip of His spear. I am the mail about His fist. I am the flight of His arrows.

I reveal the markings on my left arm to Ieyasu, which start to glow as they feed on my Prana.

"Hey..." he coughed,"What are you doing!?"

I ignored his cry.

"Left Arm - Foundation of Heaven's Blessing."

A gentle glow radiated off of the boy as the markings on my left arm glowed a pristine white. The scars and bruises on his body slowly faded away, and the pain left his eyes.

"I am sorry, but this is all I can do." I smiled softly, "I cannot cure you, but I have numbed you to its pain. You will most likely die tomorrow." I was being blunt with the boy. He didn't deserve false words of comfort... just the truth.

With that being said, I turned to leave. Ieyasu's words reached me as I stepped outside of the shed, ready to fix the broken lock, so my entrance goes unnoticed.

"That's fine with me." He smiled back, "You're a good guy, you know. Promise me, though... Promise me that those bastards will pay!"

Looking over my shoulder I decided to answer his final request.

"I'm not a good guy, but I promise you they'll pay. Scum like them... they don't get very far."

I closed the shed, fixed the lock, and made my way back into the guest room provided for me. Tomorrow, blood will be spilt.

'For him to still be able to smile like that... This servant is grateful, oh Lord, for the things you showed me today...

'Tomorrow, let Thou be the judge of me... Forgive me, for I shall not forgive them.'