Forward Unto Dawn
Chapter 12: Wasteland
She sighed, her dark hair fluttering behind her.
She sighed.
It had been many years since she had seen peace, many years.
Combat had been the majority of her life. Fighting, bloodshed, her work requires her to do so. She never once feared before, so why should she?
She was strong, powerful.
She had magicks beyond what humanity should have been capable of. She was strong, but even the strong may fear.
When faced against a titan she couldn't stop being afraid.
But that was half a century ago…the time when she stood defiant with the rest of humanity. Defiant towards their fate, rallying under their leader Emiya Shirou.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Humanity rallied, rallied against a bigger threat, rallied for the sake of tomorrow.
Sacrifices were made, blood was shed. But ultimately, mankind persevered but at the cost of their champion. Yes, champion, not general.
He was a champion not a general. He gave no commands, yet he relied not on the rest of them but instead on himself. He fought alone, he walked alone. It was ever so lonely.
Aoko knew him. How could she not.
Emiya Shirou.
Participant of the Fifth Holy Grail War.
Emiya Shirou, the second coming of the Magus Killer.
An unconventional freelancer, a maverick, and the most hated enemy of Tohsaka Rin.
No one really knew what the relationship was between the Magus Killer and one of the noble masters of the Magus Association. They were civil in their interactions but even a fool can see the tension between them.
No, not between them. More like the hatred Master Tohsaka held against Emiya Shirou. Aoko knew that in his so called 'battle-mode' he will never be discomforted. In that mentality he only knew how to war, and war he did.
So humanity lost one of its champions, one of the few with the guts to stand against a two hundred meter colossus. One of the few who stood defiant, undaunted, unafraid of what is to come.
Aoko was ashamed she was one of the many who left.
It was after careful consideration and prodding by Emiya himself that she left.
She wanted to stay, truthfully she did. She liked Emiya and wanted to help him with his self-appointed task. He was easy to get along with, serious when the time came, and he never once judged Aoko no matter what she did.
He was a good friend, but she hadn't been a good friend to him.
She left because she was ineffective.
Her sorcery failed her in the presence of the beast, her magicks abandoned her. She was nearly useless, a burden to the force. Then again most people were, all except those who were used to fighting, used to body contact, used to bleeding. They fought, they kept going, then they died.
Shirou was one of them.
He died to save the world. How becoming. Died alone on his field made of swords.
Abandoned by the rest of humanity, betrayed.
A last ditch effort.
He stood his ground against an unfathomable enemy. He played his part to the bitter end.
A hero.
But never let him hear you call him a hero. He would smile bitterly, then nicely inform you that he was no hero, not yet, not close. That was the kind of man he was. Humble, kind, firm. He was a good man, a good fighter, a decent magus. All in all he was a good man.
His victory was something humanity could not guess. They thought he would fail. The whole reason he was there in the first case, there alone was because humanity abandoned him, left him for dead. But Emiya Shirou fought, continued even though thrown away. He fought to the bitter end and succeeded.
A cry in the distance snapped her out of her reverie, a sharp scream cracking into the sky. It was only for a second, but that second stretched on. A horrendous voice, a deathly voice, almost as if someone screamed out of terror and agony.
But Aoko knew that was no man, no woman, it was no human. That scream, that sound, it was no mortal that made the noise.
She got up from her sitting position, slowly letting herself get into shape. She then focused on the direction she heard the scream from.
True to her thoughts it was no man that walked towards her from the edge of the hill. No man that ran towards her downhill trying to rip her apart.
It was a monstrosity. Humanoid in shape but black with charred flesh. There was a hint of white bones but the same dark sinew interlaced its body. It moved as if it was always crouching, its long claws outstretched attached to its long limbs. head held a jaw, a jaw wide open. Rows of pearl white teeth laid within its mouth, sharpened like knives, ready to skewer whatever the being got its teeth into.
It was truly a monster a creature not of this Earth, a being designed to destroy mankind.
Aoko sighed as she looked at the approaching figure, knowing that it was not alone. True to her thoughts another one came from the edge of the hill, then another, then another. They skittered slowly like ants, slowly but advancing steadily, crawling forward. They kept coming, until a small army was amassed.
Aoko only sighed.
She stretched her hands forward and called upon her prana.
The battle was over before it began, five disks of energy appearing before her without delay. Bolts of energy emitted from those disks spread annihilation over the scarred land before her. The enemy was obliterated within seconds, without a second thought.
Aoko only sighed; they were but insects to her, like she was to the NOVA.
Crawlers were only the first contact shock troopers, the real enemy were much harder to defeat.
She began walking away from the hill the monsters appeared from, slowly away from the setting sun.
Nearly an hour later, when the sun was purple from sundown, Aoko arrived at a tall wall that was the last hope of humanity.
It was cold at night, but the cold was not part of her concerns, she approached a heavy looking gate with steel frames, approaching it slowly she looked at the camera before the door opened. Stepping into the interior she only sighed in relief.
Another day of the war, another day of fighting.
Fighting against enemies beyond the scopes of mankind, fighting against monsters that just didn't want to die.
Crawlers, angels, desolators, crusaders. Mankind had only started to scratch at the tip of the iceberg regarding the blighted lands.
The scientists simply called it 'The Wastelands'.
And wastelands it was.
A land where the laws of physics became distorted, a land where monsters are born. A land where reality was changed to suit the monsters, a land that was no longer Earth. A land of nightmares.
A land caused by the NOVAs.
When NOVAs are not defeated as they landed, they rampage, they gather at the Northern lands, they gathered where the wasteland was.
It was a phenomenon that was ignored during its time, however when the first NOVA reincarnated it was obvious what they were trying to do.
They gathered to blight the land, to terraform our universe. To create something different from our land, or was it to bring their land in? The truth remains veiled, and will remain that way until mankind treks to the center of the Northern front, if they ever do that is.
"So the Northern front remains strong?"
"Indeed it does. In fact, one of our most prominent members is in charge of the Northern front, protecting the wall, our wall."
"You mean your wall. The wall you built with our resources but refuses to share."
"What do you mean? WE did agree didn't WE? You Chevalier create the wall while we from The Clock Tower defend the wall."
"That was our original intention yes, but we didn't know you would hoard the wall and refuse us entrance."
"Refuse? We do have some of your scientists setting up facilities at the Wall, I hardly find that 'refusing entrance' as you so eloquently put it."
"True, but it was hard enough to convince your organization to let us set up shop. We can't even send our own troops into the Wastelands… or can we?"
"That's why I'm here today dear commander, the status quo has changed. Another type had been uncovered only recently, something different. I'm sure you've read the report, you have haven't you?" The young man with dark hair looked at the commander. The older commander nodded.
"Good. To sum it up it seems that the blighted ones are much more complex than we've ever known. At first we see them as nothing more than creatures trying to destroy us, enacting their nature. We've never questioned why, but I fear that is a problem."
"How so?"
"It seems that there is a sort of hierarchy within the blighted one, and hierarchy means organization, and organization means intelligence, intelligence leads to society, and society leads to goals. What we believe we have caught is some sort of intelligent life form, a leader of sorts. Of course that theory remains to be tested but what we think we have found is disconcerting."
"Indeed. Instead of fighting a rag tide group of strong individuals, we might be fighting an organized group of strong individuals."
"Indeed my dear commander, you too have noticed our concerns."
"It is problematic, so what does The Clock Tower plan to do about it?"
"We plan to bring a resistance, an offensive, an effort to reduce their numbers and hopefully retake the land we have lost.
"An offensive approach? How unexpected, from a bunch of scholars no less."
"Scholars? My dear commander, the Wall stood for eight years without any instances of breaching, we are scholars, but we are not just scholars, we also have soldiers in our midst."
"Indeed representative, indeed you have."
It feels cold.
I feel cold.
A sort of slippery feeling that constantly irritates me. It feels strange, not bad, strange. So cool, so smooth.
Where am I?
Where's Kazuha.
No. That bitch.
She betrayed me.
Sakura?
No.
I betrayed Sakura.
Who's Sakura?
Who's Kazuha?
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
Who am I?
Kiritsugu? Is that my name?
No.
No.
My name is Shirou.
Shirou what?
Was it Tohsaka?
No.
It must be Matou then.
No. It's not. No. Purple hair. Familiar.
No, I don't have purple hair. I have orange hair right?
No. No.
Silver. Yes silver.
Silver, but I had orange hair, once.
No. I'm not Tohsaka or Matou.
Yes. I'm Emiya.
Shirou Emiya.
Yes, that's what I am.
Kazuha, bitch, betrayer, traitor.
Sakura, woman, care, grail, evil, monster, kohai, love.
What is she?
Did I love her?
Was I able to love her?
Love who?
Her?
Purple hair. Long. Straight.
No. Was it white? White hair? Red tattoo?
Who's that?
Who is that? Who is that.
Purple hair.
'I think I need to. Sleep. Senpai, Aishteru. Sayonara. Shirou-senpai.'
Who is that?
Sakura.
Yes. Sakura.
Love?
I don't know.
Am I capable of love?
I don't know.
What am I?
I am steel.
Yes.
Steel.
Not just steel.
Tempered steel.
Forged in fire.
Yes.
Forged steel. Tempered steel.
Yes. I am a sword.
"So there he is?" He smiled, a broad grin splitting his face. His pale hair framed his equally pale face, his red eyes illuminating in the darkness.
"How absolutely tricky." He continued smiling. He pulled a black dagger out of his victim's chest, the blood spraying everywhere but on him.
"How absolutely tricky."
Miya Asama looked out the window.
Eight years.
Eight years since he disappeared.
Eight years since he was betrayed by that bitch.
The hated enemy.
Blood on her hands.
Kill her. The urge to kill her is real. The sudden shuddering. The shaking. The lust for her blood. It's all real.
But she can't act on it. Can't act on her urges.
She is a good person. Good people don't kill.
Even for their friends. Right?
Yes. Good people don't kill.
So she will pretend nothing happened.
She didn't see anything. No sir. Miya Asama was home on that fateful night.
She didn't see anything.
She didn't…
No.
She clutched her knife until it almost exploded in her hands.
She could hear the wooden handle crack. Sounds exactly like breaking bones. Her bones. Yes. No. No. No.
"Is anything wrong Miya?"
The purple haired landlady turned so fast hoping Kazuha was in range of getting skewered, but alas she wasn't.
Plastering a smile on her face Miya replied, "No Kazuha, nothing's wrong. Nothing, of course nothing."
Not looking very assured Kazuha turned back to the meal she was cooking.
Kazuha had been visiting every day. Even though she's the enemy. She never stops coming. Why? Why doesn't she stop? The torture.
Hate.
Hate her.
But have to endure.
For the rest.
But kill her when the chance comes.
Yes? No?
No. Emiya wouldn't want me to kill.
No. He wouldn't.
He was that good of a guy.
No.
No kill.
Endure.
Kazuya Aoi was having a good time at school. He made several friends, he was half a limiter. Yes. Almost a limiter of Bridget. Such a nice girl.
She reminded him of his sister. Yes, the great Kazuha Aoi, one of the strongest PANDORAs in the world. His sister.
He woke up in his shared duo room a bit shakily. Standing up a bit unsure but still with some steadiness. He pulled his uniform over his slender body, looking himself in the mirror to make sure everything's in order.
It was nice, peaceful life. Occasionally he'd have to fight, or at least train to fight, but overall it was nice. His sister was there teaching as well, that made it so much better. But he rarely saw her out of class.
Must be visiting her friend he guessed.
Miya Asama, a nice lady, a landlady of the apartment Audrey lives at. Audrey Hoover, the sister of Kazuha's friend Emily.
Audrey's a nice girl too. Nice, a bit quite, shy, but nice overall.
She talked about a person.
A past tenant. But they rarely about him. The room always goes quiet when his name is mentioned.
Taro turns stone faced. Miya turns cold, his sister as well. Audrey almost cries at the tension, something must be fishy.
No one ever answers anything about him.
So far Kazuya only knows he was a tenant.
And his name.
A certain Shirou Emiya.
Yes. A certain Shirou Emiya.
"So here lies our great hero, huh?" A certain blonde man walked past a corridor plated with steel. What kind of steel he did not know, after all, humans always made weird steel from mixing metals together, time passed, and the blonde man never got why humans changed from using cold iron when it was the only thing affective against the Gods and their spawns.
Yes, cold, untainted iron, but of course, that was a story for another time.
Now he had a mission.
A very important mission, to find a certain man.
Yes, a certain man, a man held here for years, for newly a decade really. It had been a while since he had been active, he had his rest, but it's time for him to return to the world of the living.
He walked casually as if on a stroll, occasionally whistling a nice tune, occasionally skipping around, he was excited, of course he was. It would seem like a normal man on a normal stroll if not for the blood.
Yes, the blood.
It was a small red stream on the ground, small and shallow, but a stream none the less. The twinge of copper, yes, the smell of blood in the air, his favorite, how very nice.
Humans, such weak and vulnerable creatures.
Such trash, however, they are the trash the rule the world, rule the era, that cannot be changed. Only the old ones think they can rule the lands once again, old, outdated ones, ones that should go into eternal slumber rather than walk this land.
This is the land of the living, land of the mortal, no longer the land of the undead, most understood, so they rallied.
They rallied to fight, to fight the upcoming threat, to preserve their own existence.
And they will fight till the end, after all, who is to say the enemy will stop at the humans, no no, they won't stop. That is a foolish notion, to think they will stop before exterminating the land, before wiping the world clean of a life. No no, of course they won't. They're here for one reason, to kill.
Yes, to kill.
Exterminate, what a pretty word.
Yes. Exterminate.
But that can't be allowed to happen, after all, what's going to be interesting about dead people, a lot of dead people, no, how boring.
So he's here, finding one specific human, in a steel tunnel miles under the Earth, yes. Looking for one specific someone. That man is the linchpin of all things, the key to the invasion, and maybe, just maybe, a key to stopping the invasion.
But wait.
He's no man.
Course not, he only THINKS he's a man.
What a foolish notion. Alaya does not empower mere man to do her biddings, like how Gaea will never empower a mere man to cause their own destruction. No. Both consciousness never does things with a chance of failure, so the conclusion is simple.
HE is something more than a man.
HE thinks he's a man, but he's deluding himself.
Yes. He is no man.
So what is he?
The undead casually strode down the long steel hallway in search of one man, leaving behind a path filled with corpses, all brutalized with blood spraying out not different than how a painter paints his canvas with red paint.
It's cold here isn't it.
Yes.
It's cold here.
It feels. Different.
Yes. Different.
That's the word. Very different.
No feeling.
There's nothing, just a cold abyss.
It's cold. Uncomfortable.
I feel sad.
But why?
Why am I sad?
Who am I?
DIdn't I just answer that question?
No.
I don't think so.
Who am I?
No.
I know who I am.
I am EMIYA SHIROU.
I am the Second Magus Killer.
I am no man.
I am steel.
Tempered steel.
Forged in the crucible of life.
Yes.
I am not just a steel.
I am a sword.
What's happening?
What's happening?
Why is life getting brighter?
Why is there a light.
Is this the end?
Is this the end of my pitiful existence?
No.
I have not fulfilled my existence.
I have not proved my worth.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
This can't be it.
No.
I have to prove.
No.
The light, so uncomfortable.
This pain, the feeling of wind passing against my skin.
Skin?
Is it air?
Air passing over my skin?
No way?
Isn't there just water?
Wasn't I stuck in the abyss? Stuck in the watery depths?
No.
I opened my eyes, light assaulting my vision as I felt a sharp tug throwing me out of the liquid I had resided in an indefinite amount of time. I could feel the air hit against my cheeks, my body, without hesitation I tore off the mask that covered my mouth and breathed in a breath of clean air, of air that I hadn't had the pleasure of breathing in for an unmeasured amount of time.
Yes.
I was free.
My eyes finally calibrated with the light after all this time.
My arms stretched out, instantly my two favorite twin swords was in my grip.
The feeling of its hilt was refreshing, but then again, everything was refreshing out of a test tube.
There was a man behind me, I turned to see something that's not a man, a vampire more like. "Vladimir." I croaked to him. My voice was damaged, or more like disused, it'll get better over time, I've just been out of practice.
He nodded at me, his red eyes bearing down at me like always. I did not forget the rage at my last meeting with him, but then again I feel no anger. He wasn't a target of my ire, no. Of course not. There were other targets, no, he wasn't worth my irritation, more like, he never did anything bad to me.
Yes he killed my allies, but we were hunting him so I guess it was justified, I can't ask him to just sit down and die could I? All beings have a sense of self perseverance, he was no different.
Yes. I am finally free of my cage, or tube I guess.
He smiled at me, his eyes taunting me, his arrogance apparent and exposed by his body language. His grin, his posture, his arms crossed in front of his chest, everything showed his arrogance and cockiness. But that's just who he was, an arrogant but strong apostle. Yes, that's what he was.
He looked in front of him.
It was a man, kneeling in front of him.
He was a man, just a man in lab coats, his hands were clasped as he offered prayers to his god. But even the gods won't save him now.
But he looked.
Familiar.
Very familiar.
That face, those glasses.
No.
It can't be.
"Taro Takebayashi."
He kneeled there, kneeled and prayed to God as an unidentified man came in and killed. Killed, slaughtered, massacred everyone. Everyone died. Everyone but him.
So he kneeled in front of his sins and prayed. Prayed for God to forgive him, prayed that the atrocities he had done to his friend would be forgiven.
Until the mysterious man destroyed the cage around Emiya and pulled him out.
Until the silver haired man tore off his mask.
Until he stretched his arms and materialized swords.
Until he gazed at him. Gazed into his very soul.
It was an angel wasn't it.
One to bring judgment.
Those wings, wings of black and white.
It was truly beautiful. Magnificent.
How could he have missed something so simple, something so simple yet so complex.
Standing in front of him was an angel.
Angel here to deliver judgment for his sins.
So he prayed harder, prayed for happiness after death, a fool's errand really, but he had to try.
Tears fell down his cheeks as he remembered the things he had done to his friend, tears streamed.
He was sad, he was so very sad.
But the being standing in front of him was beautiful.
Yes, beautiful.
Taro smiled as the being spoke his name, gazing into the piercing silver eyes of the divine being.
Smiled even after his head was separated from his body in movement and spray of blood.
As he died only one word passed through his fractured mind.
'Magnificent.'
A/N:
So yeah, I guess it has been a while, a bit more than 2 months perhaps?
Well, yeah, so yeah.
No excuses.
Too much gaming for me I guess, if that counts as an excuse?
Haha anyways...
This chapter portrays how years in a tube has fucked up Shirou's mind.
It portrays the conflicts and psychological torture his mind had been going through as he 'thought.'
After all, people say stopping to think about what you've done will kill you-forgot where I heard that but it stuck with me ;O
anyways, enjoy,
hopefully the nxt chapter will be up a lot faster than this one
ANDDD :P I almost forgot
Thanks to my beta Spartan111MS :P thanks to him for doing the grammar check :P Well, not the last part cause I didn't run it through him before I loaded it :P