Chapter 19 – Broken Junction
(Beta: RavingScholar, Zaralann, Cloud Link Zero - Published: 02.12.2013)
Life is but a number of unpredictable circumstances piled together. All actions have consequences, even the smallest ones, yet people almost never see the result of their choices unless it affects them directly. More than that, they can't even begin to truly imagine how things could have been had they made a certain action instead of another, or if their timing had been slightly altered.
Some call it Butterfly Effect, some call it Chaos Theory, yet more people call it Destiny. Most people don't describe it in any way at all, for they never even realize such occurrences take place.
This is one of those situations.
After Shirou left for school that morning, Medea started tinkering with the Boundary Field. As a legendary Magus from the Age of Gods, her knowledge was far superior to that of modern Mages and she could therefore erect protections the likes of which could no longer be seen in this era. The kind of Boundary Fields she could come up with would deter another Magus from trying to get him from miles away.
That is, of course, if she wasn't trying to keep a low profile. For the purpose of remaining hidden until the official start of the War, the wards that covered Shirou's home were more than adequate. In fact, they were extremely well done for an era when Thaumaturgy had degraded so much. Not only did they dull excessive noise, but they also prevented the leaking of residual Prana from within its perimeter, thus making it impossible to perceive from the outside the actualization of any mystery performed inside.
It was a very subtle thing, which meant that there was a limit to the amount of protections that she could add without breaking this frail balance. Naturally, the need for safety could eventually surpass the need for secrecy, thus making necessary to set up at least a few dormant defenses that could be brought up at a moment's notice.
Frankly speaking, with the amount of energy she currently had at her disposal, there wasn't much else she could do besides that. Carving and powering several runes didn't take much of her reserves, thought they drained her slightly, but powering and maintaining a Boundary Field was another matter entirely. She needed Shirou to provide his Prana, possibly by storing a noticeable amount his blood in an apposite container, in order to activate the defenses around their home.
… Their home. Since when had she begun thinking about his house in those terms? It had barely been over a month since their first encounter, and even less since she really opened up to him. Just a couple of weeks since he revealed his knowledge of her darkest secrets; a couple of weeks spent living in relative tranquility, barely interrupted by the amusing antics of her host and his spirited guardian.
Two weeks spent without fear of being judged, scorned or despised. Was that enough to make her grow fond of this place?
No, likely not. She certainly liked the atmosphere of the Emiya household. It was quiet and soothing, but those weren't the reasons she liked the place so much as to call it her home. She realized, as she worked over the protections, that her reason for being fond of the place was because it was the place where he would return.
It was such a silly thought, she mused. To think that she, of all people would grow attached to a fifteen year old boy whom she had just came to know. It wasn't like she was above or beneath such feelings; there had been a time when she loved and cared for other people as well, but she had grown to believe that such emotions were forcefully beaten out of her after a lifetime of betrayals, both received and delivered.
She had rediscovered a part of herself she had believed to be forever lost, a…vulnerable part of her. Rationally, she should have squashed these thought as soon as they came up. They were a weakness she couldn't afford. Even though she sincerely believed in his allegiance, she knew that if she considered him to be disposable then she could craft her usual schemes and come out victorious from any and every situation.
But what was victory? What did it mean for her to win at this point? What was her reason to live if all she had around her was but a wasteland devoid of anyone else? What did she really want for herself now?
She was so confused. She was never confused before: she always knew what she had to do, but now all answers escaped her. At this point, she actually didn't know what the question was anymore.
It was all Shirou's fault. He made her unable to think straight. That was perhaps enough of a reason to warrant some well deserved punishment, but no matter how much she tried to bring up some painful way to make her displeasure known, all of her righteous anger dissipated like snow every time she considered how to apply it to him.
In fact, instead of frowning or muttering dark curses under her breath as she would normally do when she was upset with someone, she was instead humming a cheerful tune as her hands kept drawing rune after rune. When the realization of such an unusual thing reached her conscious brain she stopped in her tracks, one finger alight with Prana still up in the air in front of the wall she was working on.
She remained like that for a while, frozen in surprise teetering toward shock.
"Could it be that I really...?"
She didn't voice the rest of her question. She didn't dare to think the rest of her question. She just couldn't acknowledge the possibility of such thing. Instead she lost herself in her work, hoping against hope that such a silly, ridiculous and improper train of thought would never come up again and it seemed to work just fine.
It wouldn't last even until that night.
Dojima rubbed his eyes wearily. He had spent days mulling over his options, thinking about what course of action could be more successful and with the least amount of drawbacks. There was just no progresse on the Archer investigation. The teenage vigilante had gone to the ground, disappearing entirely, no doubt trying to avoid the attention of the media that had invaded Fuyuki after his most recent exploit. It appeared to work relatively well, because after weeks of no new sightings the various TV networks had called back their teams save for a reporter or two. Naturally the public interest hadn't subsided at all, but it was now clear to everyone that Archer wasn't about to give an interview anytime soon.
As much as that was good news for the police in general, it wasn't good news for Dojima at all. He had hoped to uncover a little more about the vigilante before making any other move, but that clearly wasn't the case and he was at the end of his rope.
He just couldn't stand being left in the dark while aware of a threat to himself, his family and the general public. It just wasn't in his nature and all the postponing grated on his nerves, making him all the more unbearable to his colleagues. Even the ever-cheerful Adachi gave him a wide berth, probably fearing more paperwork should he upset his senior colleague in any way.
Dojima sighed. That couldn't continue anymore. One way or another, he had to turn this stagnant flow around and give shape to this threat that was looming over him and the entire city. Spying on his prime suspect hadn't worked at all, even if it had the unsettling upside of making him realize the wrongness of the situation.
Dangerous at it was, he was left with no other options but to face Emiya Shirou directly, hoping that his assumptions were right and that it would not backfire in any way. After a lot of pondering, he decided to bite the bullet and go to Emiya's house directly around the time he knew the boy would return from his job in town. If it was true that an organization kept an eye on the unnatural things that happened in Fuyuki, then Dojima wasn't about to force a confrontation in a public area, lest he involve innocent passerby in his own choices. He was a cop after all, and protecting innocent people was his ultimate duty.
That didn't mean he would just walk into a potential dangerous situation without a little preparation.
His plan was twofold. The first part was to leave a diary of his discoveries, outlining that he was the only person that possessed any knowledge of what really happened in Fuyuki. Perhaps it wouldn't be enough to protect Nanako, but it was better than nothing.
The second part was to take a small detour to the Requisition Office. He would never have believed that his colleague's lack of work ethic would come in handy someday.
If Waver could have realized that things were about to go wrong, as he should have, it was because things have been going fairly well. True, the whole debacle the elder Archibald had caused was a problem he had to deal with and solve mostly on his own, but he was confident he could do it. Guilford's death had been problematic, but not even that much because finding his killer had been relatively easy. While not being able to uncover anything about Emiya's Magecraft before approaching him, Waver was fairly convinced that someone who passed his nights trying to save lives, in a way that differed a lot from his father's, wasn't the kind of person that would react violently unless provoked.
Even if he did, Waver was certainly not defenseless, even without the added strength of his bodyguards.
In a world filled with conspiracies, populated by people who were willing to kill to protect their secrets and if possible to steal other's, a person's word was perhaps one thing that couldn't be thrown away easily and certainly not for small monetary gains. Magi-for-hire, just like their mundane counterpart based their trade on their reputations, not just as a resume of their skills and ability but also as the only proof that they could be trusted to carry out their assignment without betraying their employer.
The Cheong team, while not necessarily the best as far as skills and Thaumaturgy went, had a strong reputation for being trustworthy, to the point that if they weren't successful in their task they at least protected their employer from the downfall of their shortcomings. Thus Waver knew that his bodyguards could be trusted, that they would never turn against the people who hired him.
Therein lied the fallacy of his thought.
While not in agreement with the elders, Waver believed that on the matter of solving this situation they had a similar outlook as he did. He did, however, underestimate the depth of the grudge held by the elders, and the lengths they were willing to go to settle the score with those who had supposedly wronged them.
Waver did realize his error rather quickly, though he could hardly call himself proud of it. After all, it didn't do him any good to understand his mistake as his body grew progressively numb and as the still half filled glass slipped from his weakening grasp.
"You…." he growled at the Chinese man who moved to support him.
"My apologies, Mr. Waver," the man said as he helped him to sit on the sofa, "but we have received different orders about Emiya."
"Should have… seen this coming…" he groaned, finding it increasingly difficult to compose elaborate sentences. Using Magecraft was already something he could no longer do in his state.
"Do not be too hard on yourself," Jin protested. " To be betrayed by those whose will we're carrying out has killed more than a few experienced professionals."
Though he could see his point, Waver didn't find any comfort in in. He should have checked his drinks. Paranoia keeps people alive, all the more some in the Magi's society.
"Emiya…," he tried to speak.
"Will be dead before midnight," Jin concluded. "We will secure the Crest and bring it to you as soon as that is done."
Waver tried to stand up and for a moment it seemed like he could fight the sedative he had just swallowed. Jin, however, didn't like that at all and pushed him immediately back on the sofa.
"Please sit down, Mr. Waver. You've been fairly decent with me and my wife in the past few days. I'd hate to hurt you just to keep you down."
"…" Waver tried to say something, but darkness quickly overtook him and his eyes fell closed. Soon his breath slowed down, and a soft snore could be heard from his mouth.
"I truly am sorry about this," Jin concluded as he retrieved his coat and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
The click of the lock snapping close had just ended that one of Waver's eyes snapped open. With a slow, shaking hand he reached for his pocket. With no little amount of difficulty, he retrieved a rather inconspicuous pill and brought it to his mouth. With his mouth dry like the desert swallowing the tiny concoction was harder than ever, but he finally managed to push it down without choking on it.
With the last of his energies spent, Waver could only fall back asleep and wait for his last move to take effect. With any luck, it would be fast enough for him to play a part in the battle to come.
That evening
Shirou left school after archery practice like almost every other day. He certainly wasn't the last student to leave the premises, but with the sun disappearing behind the horizon and the almost completely silent building behind him, Shirou felt a bit on edge.
Then again, the hour and the setting had probably very little to do with his current emotions, as they were probably caused by the constant pressure he felt through the day.
For weeks now, he had tried to lure out whoever was trailing him by moving through unpopulated areas in order to provoke a confrontation. It had proved completely useless, and combined with the fact that he hadn't done anything worthy of notice he couldn't figure for the life of him who was after him and why. Thaumaturgy was no use either, as whomever it was that was following him disappeared when he got too close. As he didn't feel any residual Prana, he almost – almost- dismissed the possibility of a Magus being involved, but seeing how he himself had misled an opponent like that before he wasn't so fast to fall for that trick.
Still, he was growing increasing unnerved. As he made his way toward his evening work, mixing among the crowd, the pressure never let go. Only when he went inside the Copenhagen did the feeling of being watched subside.
Aside from the main entrance, the establishment only had a rear exit, normally used by the personnel to load stuff in the warehouse. It stood to reason that his mysterious observer would not follow him inside but rather keep an eye on the exits, waiting for him to leave.
Still mulling over the issue, Shirou went to do his assigned task, once more picking up the slack for his colleagues who didn't bother to show up at all.
Jun was growing increasingly impatient. She had been following Emiya Shirou for days, only occasionally switching over with Jin. Quite frankly, keeping up with the boy was a tiring task. Not only did Emiya go to a number of places every day, making observing him a full time employment, but he had an uncanny ability to detect intent that only improved over time. She was now forced to watch him from several hundred meters away, and even then he seemed to perceive her presence from time to time if his attempts to lure her out were any indication.
More than a few times she was forced to hide when he got too close. She considered taking him out once and for all during such occurrences, but while he often stayed in more or less unpopulated areas there just wasn't any guarantee that a battle wouldn't spill over and alert the Second Owner of their presence in town. That was a situation to avoid at all costs and for that reason, taking him down under the protections of his own property was the best course of action: the Boundary Field around his house would make sure that no Prana could be detected from the outside, and even loud noise would be toned down to acceptable levels.
So she stuck to the plan and followed Emiya one last time until he got to the place where he worked almost every evening. When he was in front of the shop and she was fairly sure he had no intention to go elsewhere, she spun around and left for the intended meeting point. As she moved through the crowd she took out the phone from her pocket and dialed her husband's number.
"Emiya has reached his destination," she said when Jin picked up. "How are things on your end?"
"Lord El-Melloi has been dealt with. Non-violently," he replied straight away.
"He drank from the bottle you put in the mini-bar?" she inquired.
"Drank two and half glasses before it took effect. Lucky for us he can hold his alcohol or I would have been forced to up the dose, but then he would have noticed the taste. Still took him a while to pass out."
"At least you didn't have to resort to more forceful methods. I would have…disliked to hurt him," she said with a small crease in her brow.
On the other side of the line her husband chuckled. "Do I have to be jealous? You usually don't have this amount of concern for anyone."
"He's just… too clean. Not naïve, but really honest and straightforward. He's a rarity in our line of work."
"I agree," he said, and she could hear the shrug in his voice, "but there's no use crying over split milk. Not at this point."
"At least we can get the job done fast and clean. That has to count for something."
"That's all that matters in the end," her husband corrected. A grim statement that outlined what their lives amounted to in the eyes of everyone but each other.
"I'm on my way to our meeting point. I'll be there in half an hour," she said, wisely opting not to comment on his earlier statement.
"Preparations are already complete. I'll be waiting for you."
With that she ended the conversation and put away her phone. Just a bit more and this job would finally be over.
Dojima parked his car a fair distance away from Emiya's house, yet still close enough to see the front wall and the gates. From there it was unlikely that he would be spotted, and he was on the opposite side of the gates from the way the boy should take to return home. According to what he managed to gather by asking around, Emiya didn't have a fixed shift at his workplace, so he could very well return earlier or later than expected.
On the passenger's seat there was a rather inconspicuous duffle bag, though it was filled with some very interestingarguments should the discussion he had in mind go wrong.
Frankly speaking, he hoped that once exposed, Emiya would be willing to talk. Their previous interactions had proved that he was at least a nice person, if not a law-abiding citizen. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, especially considering what was at stake.
Turning off the engine, he reclined the seat a little and prepared to wait for as long as it took.
The sun had disappeared entirely behind the horizon, but the wondrous advancements of mankind still lit the town as bright as day. As usual, the bustling noise of the city was but a distant echo in the residential neighborhood, but the air was unmoving and tense far more than normal.
Experienced soldiers would recognize it as the calm before the storm, that moment of absolute quiet that anticipated the beginning of a conflict. Or at least that's how it felt for the Chinese duo that was watching over the Emiya household from the vantage point of a nearby rooftop. Kneeling on the inclined surface, husband and wife set down their ever-present metal suitcases, closed not only with mundane locks but also with a complex sealing Magecraft. The content of the suitcase was priceless on many levels. It was their tool for killing, their weapon of choice and a symbol that represented the bond between them, on top of being extremely rare Artifacts.
With a minor, simultaneous application of Prana both suitcases snapped open, revealing their ominious contents to the moonless night.
With a nod of confirmation to each other they turned to their battlefield of choice. Taking a Magus in his own territory was said to be a suicidal move, but that was only a matter of ability and circumstances. With enough speed and skill and with the advantage of the element of surprise, it was possible to exploit an opponent Magus's sense of security against him.
Luck was even on their side in this case. Their current target was setting the base to strengthen the defenses around the property, but she still had to finish them. Laying the base for a Boundary Field within another Boundary Field was a complex operation that required an enormous amount of focus, and she had been doing that for most of the afternoon. Regardless of her personal skill as a Magus, the woman had to be exhausted by this point, certainly enough that they could take her down without a fuss. The fact that she was in the open instead of inside the house or the Workshop was another advantage they weren't going to waste.
They charged their bodies with Prana, causing the runes tattooed on their bodies to shine momentarily from beneath their business suits. Without a word they leaped through the air, sailing for several meters before landing on the walls. They didn't stop to ponder the tickling sensation of the Wards on their skin, jumping again toward the purple haired woman that had now noticed their presence and was already turning in their direction with a startled expression on her face.
It was too late for her to do anything. She didn't have enough time to cast any Aria, and she obviously didn't have any Mystic Code or another weapon on her person. Victory was theirs-
"Αποκρούσει!"
Or at least they thought so before a blinding light propelled them both backwards with enough force to push beck a freight train. Only years of experience allowed them to flip in mid flight and land on their feet, skidding several meters backward and almost slamming them against the wall at the opposite end of the courtyard.
Maybe… this wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped.
If Dojima had blinked in that moment, he knew he would have missed it entirely. Instead, he clearly saw two human figures fall from the sky and land on the walls that surrounded Emiya's property and then leaping again fast as lightening inside the premises. He saw a flash from behind the wall just a fraction of a second later, and after what must have been the time of a heartbeat several other flashes in different colors exploded, causing only a minor noise as if they were dulled explosions.
"Oh shit," he swore when his brain kicked in and he realized what he had seen. What appeared to be two people had flown down from the sky and landed behind that wall. This wasn't what he was expecting when he had went there that night and yet it was the confirmation that something unnatural was going on in Fuyuki, something beyond the comprehension of common human beings.
He was still considering his options, but his body was already on the move. Opening the zipper of his duffle bag, he extracted a few items from his "insurance package" and then stepped out of the car.
His heart was beating madly in his chest. Beyond those walls there was something going on that he had no experience with; something that he didn't know how to deal with. Something that might very well kill him in ways he didn't want to imagine.
"Fuck this shit," he finally said as he stormed toward the entrance. He was a cop, damn it! This was his job, his damn mission. If something was threatening the citizen of Fuyuki it was his duty to see it locked behind bars… if possible.
Sliding against the wall he pushed open the gate and peered inside. What he saw made his heart freeze. That just… what the hell was he seeing?
The foreign woman that he knew had recently moved in with his primary suspect was being attacked by a man and a woman who were moving around too fast for him make out their faces, but he could clearly see that they wore black business suits and that they were holding… swords of all things.
A black and a white falchion respectively.
They moved at a speed too fast for the human to properly follow. They were a blur to his eyes most of the time, save for that brief moment when they stopped to change direction in their movement. That was, however, the least impressive thing he saw. The woman they were obviously trying to kill was pushing them back every time they got to close, muttering words in a language he didn't understand. Every word was followed by a blast of energy directed toward the two assailants, which they dodged at the last possible moment. Each blast exploded on the ground, creating large craters whey they struck.
"Fucking aliens," Dojima murmured too shocked to do anything but gape like a fish out of water.
His trembling hand reached for his gun, hoping that it would be of some use in this situation. But what should he do at that point? Should he really get himself caught up in this? He didn't even know what was going on at that point, but…
… but he was a cop, and no matter what these people were, something was very obvious even to him: those two persons in business suit had trespassed on a private property, and were now trying to kill the person who lived inside.
He was completely out of his depths, but no matter how he looked at it there was something wrong with this situation. Perhaps he was just grasping at straws, trying to fit the situation into something he knew how to deal with.
It was stupid, he knew. It would probably get him killed, but as time went by he could see that the two assailants were circling their target closer by the minute. At this rate it was just a matter of time before they prevailed.
Regardless of what or who she was, could he just stand aside and watch a person being killed? He simply could not.
Cursing himself for his suicidal stupidity he stepped inside the gate and pulled out his gun, pointing it in the general direction of the battle.
"EVERYONE FREEZE!" he shouted loud enough to be heard over the explosions. When all three turned to him with murderous eyes he could only suppress a flinch and stand his ground. He felt it in his bones: this was going to get very ugly, very fast.
What the hell was going on, Medea asked herself as she sent spell after spell at her sudden assailants. She didn't know who these people were except that they were obviously mages and extremely skilled fighters on top of that. Nothing short of that could hope to survive her High Speed Divine Words, even in her weakened state.
Were they other prospective Masters? Or maybe they worked for one and were acting on his behalf? That made little sense, as no one should have known that she was a Servant except for Shirou. Her current condition served to conceal her supernatural origins to everyone who didn't bother to check in depth.
No, since there was little chance that they knew of her nature, then… maybe they weren't really after her, but rather after Shirou, especially considering that he was hiding from the Magi community to escape the resentment that his father had earned during his career.
They had unwillingly stepped in the lion's den without realizing the true extent of the threat she represented. It was a matter of bad timing on both sides. She was far weaker than she was supposed to be, but still she was clearly stronger than they expected. They couldn't figure out her Magecraft, so different was it from that of the modern era so they were being held back, but her rapidly waning resources meant that it was only a matter of time before they prevailed over her unless she managed to land a serious blow soon.
No matter how powerful a Magus she was, Medea was not a fighter. True, the extent of her Mysteries far surpassed the current age's, and her status as Heroic Spirit served only to widen that gap even further… if she wasn't being stymied by the lack of a proper energy source.
To make thing worse, these people were strong. Even after being caught unprepared they kept a cool head and moved around avoiding all her attacks. High level Mysteries were beyond her reach right now and therefore she could only perform straightforward attacks that weren't enough for her to prevail. In addition, her keen eye told her that the black and white falchions they wielded were not something to trifle with. They were ancient, and they carried a strength that went beyond that of the arms that wielded them. Something like that could no doubt harm even a spiritual entity such as her.
As she contemplated all this, she kept firing the fastest but least powerful spell she had so as to preserve her power, but her energies were still going down far too quickly. If the battle kept going like that she was going to lose. She needed something to change the flow of the battle to her advantage, but she wasn't known for her luck in dangerous situations.
"EVERYONE FREEZE!" a voice shouted, causing the attention of all the presents to shit to the source of the disturbance.
A man stood in front of the gates, pointing a weapon at them; a gun, the Grail provided. She didn't know who he was, but for once luck seemed to smile on her, providing her with the distraction she needed.
"POLICE! EVERYONE STAND DOWN!" the man ordered in a surprising show of willpower in spite of the clear confusion and fear in his eyes. Of course no one present was going to comply with his request, but if what she knew about Magi nowadays was correct, her assailants couldn't ignore his presence like she could. Her total lack of care for the regulations of the Clock Tower meant that he was a problem for the duo to deal with, preferably fast.
To her supreme satisfaction the Chinese man abandoned his place and darted toward the third intruder, leaving his companion alone with Medea. Time for a comeback!
For a moment Dojima thought that they were going to listen and stand down quietly. Of course, that small delusion was soon shattered when the man ran toward him at speeds comparable to a car, brandishing the black falchion at his side.
In that moment, Dojima's eyes narrowed. Crushing the fear and the confusion under the familiar feeling of being targeted, he pointed the gun toward his assailant and without further warning he shot. One, two, three, four times. Each and every shot missed the target, but not because of a lack of skill on Dojima's part. The guy had dodged each and every time, jumping aside just like he did to avoid the purple-headed woman's laser beams.
Surprisingly, Dojima realized, that fact relieved him a great deal. If his opponent had to bother dodging that meant that bullets could affect him. It didn't make him any easier to hit, but it was a comforting thought that this alien didn't have any energy shield or invulnerability.
Still, good news aside, the Chinese-looking man was getting closer and closer, slowed down only by the fact that he had to move in a zigzag pattern. When the loud click of his gun being emptied was heard, Dojima didn't bother reloading. Instead he let the useless weapon fall on the ground, slipped both his hands under his coat taking out another pair of 9mm and pointing and firing them both at his assailant.
However the increased number of bullets coming in his direction seemed to be only a minor nuisance for the falchion-wielding man, though it forced him to dodge in even wider movement.
"Aliens or whatever…" Dojima growled as it became clear that his current firepower wasn't going to cut it and the killing blade drew closer. When both guns again clicked empty, Dojima let them fall as before, once more putting his hands under his coat and behind his back. There was a pang of satisfaction in Dojima's chest when the Chinese guy's eyes widened and his complexion paled as he found himself on the business end of a pair of Uzi. "…. DON'T UNDERSTIMATE THE POWER OF THE POLICE!"
His roar of fury was only covered by the sound of his weapons showering his opponent with bullets in an arc so spread out that even for him it was impossible to dodge entirely. The man had only time to cross his arms in front of his face, using the flat of his sword as a makeshift shield, as several bullets impacted on his body and sunk under his clothes and, hopefully, flesh.
Welcome to Earth, motherfucker!
Jin couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation he was currently living. Not only was their first target was capable of high end Thaumaturgy the likes of which he had never seen or heard about, but a cop of all people stumbled on the scene. Truth be told, the whys or who mattered little as he was about to die for his scarce luck.
However, the cop proved to be more ready to face the unexpected situation that Jin gave him credit for. It was to be noted that, in spite of what one would be inclined to believe, Magi were not normally bulletproof as they rarely interacted with mundane armed forces anymore. Rather, they focused their protections on shielding themselves from other Magi's Mysteries instead of common weapons. It was only because of the generic enhancement on his body and clothes that the bullets that hit him managed to stop just beneath the skin without doing any real damage.
It still hurt like a bitch, though, more to his pride than to his actual body. To think that a normal person could manage to hurt him like that… it pissed him off!
Gritting his teeth, Jin waited for onslaught of bullets to end before standing up straight again and glaring that the cop.
"Well, fuck…" he heard him mutter in disbelief.
"Indeed," Jin agreed with a growl. He wasn't one to speak needlessly during an assignment, but he was fairly pissed off, but at himself more than anyone else. Then, before the cop had any chance to pull out another gun from somewhere on his body he sprinted forward, lifting his sword for a downward strike that would certainly kill in one blow.
The sword fell toward the face of the stunned cop who was uselessly trying to dodge…
CLANG!
… when it was halted by the length of an extremely long katana, a nodachi to be precise. Jin found himself staring straight into the golden eyes of an extremely enraged Emiya Shirou, dressed in an apron with the logo of a cat on his chest and the word Copenhagen emblazoned just beneath.
Jin was forced to jump backward to avoid a blow that would have cut him in two halves while Emiya stood his ground and lifted his weapon at the eye level with the cutting side turned to the sky and the point slightly inclined toward the ground.
Why had he returned? Did the Boundary Field warn him of their intrusion? But that couldn't be the only thing to have tipped him off; he worked on the other side of the city. He couldn't possibly have made his way back in the couple of minutes since their attack started.
This entire operation was going completely wrong.
Thirty minutes earlier
When the realization that something was amiss hit Shirou he was serving at the tables, a rare occurrence considering he normally worked in the back, moving boxes of liquor and other perishable goods as necessity required. Neither job required him to think too much or to remain focused on what he was doing, so he had a lot of time to think about other things.
It was a subtle thing, probably just his brain working too much over the strange feeling of the past few weeks. He was being kept under surveillance, he knew, but by unknown parties for unknown reasons, and all of his attempts to figure out the identity of his stalkers had been a waste of time.
It was a small suspicion, really. Not something he should have wasted his time on, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place. When he arrived at the Copenhagen that evening and he felt the stare of his pursuers lose him, Shirou assumed it was just like every other time he entered a building where he couldn't be observed without giving away their position, but this time something was different.
He was fairly sure that this mysterious observer had stopped watching him as soon as he was about to enter the café: not after he entered, but just before he did.
That didn't make much sense, did it? If the sensation of being watched had faded once he had closed the door behind him it would have simply meant that he had slipped out of sight, but the fact that it happened before he did so meant that this unidentified observer had stopped on his own.
… Did that mean they were giving up? That whatever reason they had to keep him under surveillance was no more? Or maybe they just wanted to know where he was at a certain time?
Again his mind whirled, trying to probe the unique scenario. This had happened before, now that he thought about it. He was being targeted by someone for reasons unknown… but what if he wasn't the one that was being targeted? What if they just wanted to know he was out of the way when these person or persons went about their business?
A chill ran down his spine. Could it be that another Master or prospective Master had figured out what had happened to Guilford, connected him to Archer, and then to Tohsaka? It was a bit far-fetched as he was sure he had left no trace to connect him with Guilford, but Magecraft had ways to uncover and piece together seemingly unrelated things.
Now, this suspicion was just the byproduct of having too much time to think, and probably any other rational individual would have chalked it up to the result of an overactive imagination.
Everyone…but not Emiya Shirou, especially not when the safety of someone else could be at risk.
"Otoko-san," he called for the woman that ran the place. "I forgot to do something important today. I have to go home."
He didn't wait for an answer and ran out of the establishment, apron still wrapped around his body. He barely heard his employer saying something about him getting some rest for a change, but he really paid her no mind. His focus was entirely on the lack of feeling of being observed he had felt every time he was in a public place for the past two weeks.
To think that he would panic for not being targeted by unknown stalkers would have been hilarious in any other situation but this.
"Taxi," he called out and climbed in as soon as the vehicle stopped. Giving instructions to head for the residential area on the other side of the bridge Shirou hoped that he wasn't too late. Thankfully there wasn't much traffic at that hour, meaning that taking a car would be faster than him roof-hopping all the way to Tohsaka's place. Nonetheless, he slipped a few banknotes to the driver in exchange for a heavier foot on the accelerator, and fifteen minutes later he was dropped in front of Tohsaka's place.
Looking at the mansion from the entrance, he could see a light on at the second floor and the familiar shadow of the twin-tailed Magus going about her business in complete calm.
Giving a sigh of relief, Shirou almost smacked the back of his head for worrying too much when the tingle of the Boundary Field around his house echoed in his head, warning him about an intruder slipping past his perimeter.
No… not one intruder: two at the same time, and a few moments later a third.
"Medea," he whispered as his mind connected the dots. It wasn't Tohsaka that was being targeted, but the Heroic Spirit living under his roof. "TRACE ON!"
Forgetting everything about his own safety, about protecting his identity and the secret of Magecraft, Shirou filled his body with Prana to the point of pain and immediately jumped over the closest building and from there in direction of his home.
It was just pure luck that no one saw him doing these things that were beyond human limits, even more so when Tohsaka slammed her window open in search of whoever was using Magecraft in proximity of her house.
He was, however, completely ignorant of his luck, focused as he was in getting back as fast as he could. He completely disregarded the pain in his limbs from the excessive Reinforcement, and he didn't care for the roof tiles that broke when he landed from the jumps of twice the length he normally performed in order to prevent damage to other people's property and attract attention to his preferred route.
None of that mattered as his Reinforced eyes caught the sight of a battle between Magi in his own courtyard and what appeared to be… Detective Dojima? Oh, shit! As if the situation wasn't bad enough as it was. Medea was powerful and could handle herself while he made his way back, but Dojima had no way of…
Wait… were those two Uzi in his hands? Whoa, whoa, whoa. He was actually holding back a Magus with modern weaponry? Shirou might have cracked a smile at the irony if he hadn't realized that Dojima had brought all of that firepower to his house for some reason, and he frowned when he saw that it wouldn't be enough to keep his assailant at bay for much longer if he didn't get there soon.
However, Shirou was unarmed while the intruders seemed to have each a sword at their disposal. He wasn't confident enough in his bare handed skill to take on a combat oriented Magus armed with blades. He needed a weapon too, preferably Monohoshizao, but he couldn't make a detour into his Workshop were he kept it. Besides, he would land right in the middle of the battle with but two more jumps. No time to change direction now.
… And so what? So what if he didn't have a sword? Why did he need to look for a sword in the first place?
"I am the bone of my Sword."
Familiar words echoed in his mind and on his lips, rippling through reality with their sound.
In the distance, beyond an unseen horizon at dusk, great gears turned and the hammer fell against steel. Shirou didn't need to look at his hand for confirmation. To begin with, it was his unshakable conviction that made the existence now in his grasp possible at all. The need to confirm the reality he had just brought forth would have only served to shatter it sooner. He just gripped the hilt tighter in preparation as he jumped one last time on a rooftop near his house. With precision aim, he landed upright between Dojima and the unnamed person that was trying to kill him.
CLANG!
With a clash of steel, Monohoshizao halted the killing blow from the black falchion – Kanshou- that would have otherwise cut Dojima in two. The assassin leaped back and took a guarding stance, just like Shirou did with Monohoshizao.
"Archer..." Dojima said behind him, and Shirou winced. No use in denying it now, not when he was holding the same weapon he was seen with in his vigilante persona.
"Later," he replied without turning around. "I have to deal with this now."
Dojima's answer was the sound of a clip sliding into his weapons. It seemed that saving the other man's life served at least to make him trust Shirou enough to postpone bothersome questions.
"Stand back," he said firmly to the detective. "Right now your weapons can't really do him any serious harm."
"He's bleeding well enough," Dojima protested, looking at the stains forming on the Chinese assassin clothes.
"Superficial wounds, at best. Let me deal with him," Shirou repeated without taking his eyes off of the powerful black sword in his enemy's hand.
"You've gotta be kidding. This guy isn't human. He-" Shirou's rebuttal to Dojima protest came in the form of a movement at a speed that no normal human could match. Dashing forward toward his opponent he clashed Monohoshizao against Kanshou, engaging the silent assassin in a battle of lightening fast blows powerful enough to cause sparks to ignite upon contact.
This man was extremely good, Shirou realized, to able to stand his ground against a weakened Heroic Spirit, survive mostly unscathed from a shower of bullets from close range and now engage a fully Reinforced Magus wielding a blade with the skill of a master swordsman. He was stronger than Shirou was, the redhead admitted to himself. The level of his opponent's enhancement was definitely superior to his, and he clearly moved like an experienced assassin. The only reason why Shirou wasn't being overwhelmed lay in the sword that was currently wielding.
Degraded though it was, the skill of Sasaki Kojirou was certainly unparalleled, and was more than enough to close the gap in ability of the two contenders. That being said, Shirou was still at a disadvantage. In spite of having superior technique, his opponent – Cheung Jin –had a far better sword. Monohoshizao might very well have been a masterpiece of blacksmithing, but it was ultimately a common blade as far as materials and forging processes went. Furthermore, it wasn't a blade meant to be repeatedly slammed against another, even if Shirou had Reinforced it beforehand.
Ultimately, the black falchion was something far more powerful in its very existence. A Mystic Code forged by long lost methods and with the added power of the willing sacrifice of a human life. With the added rejection of Gaia against his Projection, it was just a matter of time before Monohoshizao would shatter, and there was no way he had time to Project another before he was struck down.
He needed a way out, something to change the flow of the battle so radically that he could claim victory without fail. To the best of his knowledge there was just one thing he could possibly do, but the question was: would she agree with his plan? He could not stop and ask her opinion at that point, nor discuss the benefits and drawbacks of such a choice. The only thing he could do was to make his offer and let her choose to accept or not. Therefore…
While the male side of the battle raged, from the moment when the Chinese man detached himself from the confrontation with the Heroic Spirit, Medea had kept fighting one on one against the falchion-wielding woman.
One would think that having a single target to shoot at instead of two would mean half the difficulty, but that wasn't necessarily the case. It was clear now that the unspoken decision of who remained to fight her and who left to kill the policeman hadn't been casual at all. Between the two, it was now clear that the woman had a far superior speed and agility compared to the man, probably in lieu of her slightly thinner frame.
If the battle had started one on one from the beginning Medea could have disposed of this person with relative ease, but the lucky distraction provided by the very unlucky officer only served to even the odds again.
With the entirety of her focus on her only remaining opponent, Medea did her best to wave around the slashes of the pristine white blade while counterattacking with her own spells. There was no way she would lose against a single human opponent, not even someone as skilled as this one.
Then again, winning on her own probably wasn't what Medea's opponent was planning at all. Chances were that she was merely stalling long enough for her partner to finish off the interloper and return to end the job they started together.
Frankly, she didn't think the mundane officer could last more than a few seconds against a Magus as skilled as these two, but when the officer started shooting with those automated weapons of his Medea understood why the current era's weaponry became so widespread: decent damage with zero quality material and little to no wielding skill. It was so cheap it was disgusting, but when it comes down to "kill your enemy" everything that works is well accepted. Still, it wasn't a wonder that the world had declined so rapidly when no effort had to be made to achieve a result.
Philosophic musings aside, the outcome of the confrontation between the two men hadn't changed one bit, but was simply being postponed a little. By proxy, even her own chances wouldn't improved if nothing else intervened to change the flow in her favor.
When the cop ran out of bullets and was about to be killed, Medea knew that with her remaining energies she wouldn't be able to last more than a handful of seconds against the combined effort of the two assailants. Shifting to spirit form and leaving was not even an option. It took at least a couple of seconds to fade, and in that timeframe she would be struck at least four times.
The thought that she was about to be killed by two strangers that probably weren't even aware of the Holy Grail War before she even had a chance to compete sickened her. It was yet another proof that Fate was against her and would not rest until she was properly humiliated and trampled upon.
A feeling of anger mixed with an all too familiar hopelessness rose like bile into her chest…
… and was ruthlessly crushed when the corner of her eyes caught a glimpse of a mop of red hair flying down on the battlefield, followed by a gleam of light reflected on the all too distinct length of Monohoshizao.
'Shirou!'
Her face split into a smile in spite of the dire situation she was still living. She almost felt like hugging him for the timing of his arrival. She didn't know how he managed to get back to her so fast but in that moment she didn't exactly care. What mattered was that when he needed him the most, he appeared once again at her side. Could she have hoped for a more reliable partner?
However, even the newfound appreciation for the teenage Magus couldn't have prepared for what came next.
"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg."
She heard Shirou chant. His voice carried loud and clear regardless of the clashing steel and the explosions she was causing with her spells. The implication of those words didn't escape her. She understood his reasoning, she knew what he was trying to accomplish. With a Contract she could reach her full potential, and with that she could easily overcome such meager opponents with a single high-level spell.
"The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate"
Would she accept? Could she agree to be bound and shackled once more? To be subjected to the will of another? Regardless of the fact that she could free herself at any given time, to accept a Contract meant to grant someone power over her, and she loathed that with her whole being. Now that she was free and could sustain herself without having to rely on someone else… to once again have to consider someone else her Master…
"Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Repeat every five times. Simply, shatter once filled."
Shirou continued unrelentingly, reaching out for her. She knew the reason for her doubts. She knew it all too well, but she didn't want admit it to herself. Of all people, Shirou was the last person she wanted as her Master. Had he been just another scumbag Magus she wouldn't have the same problem. If only he were someone she could betray without regret…
No, she couldn't do it. He was already too close for comfort, much closer than anyone else had been in several lifetimes. To let him get even closer scared her to no end. There was just no way she could do it.
If only she could dispose of the woman in front of her there, there would be no immediate reason for them to make a contract. With that in mind, she poured all her remaining energies for a killing blow.
-oOo-
"I announce. Yourself is under me, my fate (doom) is in your sword." Shirou chanted as he fought
Monohoshizao clashed against Kanshou again. The slender metal of the nodachi groaned under the strain. It was just a matter of moments now. Just a few more seconds and the blade would give in. Things had grown even worse after he started his incantation. Jin doubled his efforts, trying to kill him before he could complete it.
"In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer."
Would it last until he finished, or would it give in before he could make it? The answer came a moment later when Kanshou crashed through the side of Monohoshizao. The projected sword crumbled and the pieces disappeared into thin air.
Shirou stepped back, raising his arm in the basic stance of the Snake with full knowledge that he wouldn't stand a chance now that he had lost his blade. The best he could hope to accomplish was to land a crippling if not an outright killing blow and take his opponent down with him, giving Medea a at least a chance to prevail on her own.
However, the blow Shirou was expecting didn't come. He saw surprise on Jin's face a moment before he threw the black Kanshou in Medea's direction. Shirou turned his head just enough to see the Heroic Spirit charging a spell that would probably kill her opponent, only to cease it to dodge the razor sharp blade coming in her direction. Then, she was forced to put up a glimmering shield to stop the white falchion – Bakuya – that was swung at her face in that moment of distraction.
Reassured that she wasn't hit, Shirou capitalized on that moment and struck Jin with several vicious strikes. His blows landed, though their efficacy was greatly reduced by the Chinese Magus' enhancement. It didn't matter. Shirou was confident that now he had at least a serious chance to prevail.
Then a shiver went down his spine; the realization that he had overlooked something of extreme importance. Kanshou was a Mystic Code. A Mystic Code with an aptitude to slay monsters and with another peculiar feature. It was always drawn to its wife sword Bakuya, no matter how far apart they were from each other.
Shirou didn't need to look back. His ability to grasp everything edged told him all he needed to know. Without a second thought he spun around and dashed toward Medea, not caring for the sound of footsteps giving chase just behind him. He had a life to save.
Medea cursed inwardly. Almost all of her energies were gone, wasted to pull up a hasty defense when the Chinese woman used the opening given by the black sword to strike at her. She was at the end of her rope now. The only thing she could hope for was that Shirou had finished his opponent now that he had disarmed himself and would come to her rescue.
She turned to him in that moment, and indeed she saw him running toward her. However, the other Magus wasn't dead but was following shortly behind. Moreover, the panic etched over Shirou's face unsettled her deeply. What could force him to abandon victory and turn his back to a deadly opponent?
"Behind!" he shouted without stopping.
Medea's head snapped in the other direction. Almost in slow motion she saw the black blade, impossibly flying back toward her, spinning so fast that it looked like a razor sharp disk. It was too fast and it was too close. There was just no way she could dodge it again, and even if she did it would have meant releasing the shield that was keeping the white falchion at bay.
To think that she would die struck from behind… a fitting end for someone who had betrayed everyone who had ever trusted her.
Just as she resigned herself to die once more, her body was shoved backward. The spinning blade sailed over her, managing to cut just a few hairs and miraculously missing even her savior by mere millimeters. Of course, as Medea well knew, miracles were not known for being recurring events.
Shirou's muscles ripped under the strain and his bones cracked from the sudden burst of Reinforcement he forced into his legs. At the last possible moment he managed to push Medea out of Kanshou's path, somewhat managing to dodge as well. To his great misfortune, though, his opponents were not so unskilled as not to be capable of reacting to an expected situation.
The Chinese woman – Cheong Jun – turned to him, and in one swift motion she slashed at his stomach. Blood erupted from his body, splattering mercilessly onto the face of a shocked Medea. Through the pain he heard the sound of a hilt smacking into the palm of a hand behind him, and didn't need to turn to know what was about to happen.
His suspicions found confirmation when the black falchion dug deeply into back, cutting through his ribcage and severing his spine. Pain like nothing he had felt before surged through him. Now without impulses from his brain his already damaged legs gave in and he fell forward, right into the open arms of the woman he had sworn to protect.
Medea was frozen in shock. Blood splattered onto her face from the gash on Shirou's stomach. The young man that had come to her rescue suffered an injury that was meant for her, and to her further horror he was again struck from behind by the very blade that he had just saved her from.
He toppled forward into her outstretched arms, pouring even more blood over her robes.
Why? Why go to such lengths for her? Why risk his own life for her sake?
'Even if you made an enemy out of the entire world, I will be your ally.'
That was the promise he made her. Her ally. The one who would stand by her side regardless of the odds, regardless of the risks; steadfast, without fearing injury or death.
'I will save you. I swear.'
And he did save her. In more ways than one, he saved her. His promise was kept, his oath fulfilled. And she didn't even thank him for it.
In her daze she barely managed to see the assassins closing the short distance to finish them both, only to be stopped momentarily by a reticule of crossed swords, each and everyone a copy of Monohoshizao, appearing from thin air all around them like a makeshift shield.
She heard a groan and she turned to look at the still conscious man in her arms; the man who even now, bloodied and dying as he was, was still fighting to preserve her life, to give her a chance at happiness and redemption.
Their eyes met and his hand surprisingly rose to cup her face, forcing her look at him.
"Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead; I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead."
Unable to look away, incapable and unwilling to break contact with those eyes peering into hers, she heeded his voice and it echoed deep inside her, igniting something that had long since slumbered under a thick layer of ice.
"You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"
She didn't need to think about her answer anymore. Anger filled her, a familiar feeling that she should have been accustomed to, but not in this situation. Her usual anger was cold and calculated, raging water underneath thick ice, but this… this was was entirely different. This time it was fueled by a flame the likes of which she had never know. It burned and raged through her, demanding retribution with every fiber of her being.
This smoldering, long forgotten feeling she did not yet dare to name… she wouldn't let go of it for any reason in the world!
"Under the name of Caster, I accept this Contract!"
She announced it loudly for everyone to hear. Energy flew through her with the strength of an overflowing river and the warmth of a summer afternoon. It was so different from the feeling she had received from Guilford that just the thought of comparing them was nauseating.
Her robes formed around her as lightening rippled around her body, lighting the night with the power of a promise she would never willingly break. Unlike her previous declaration, her next words were whispered so that only the rapidly passing out man in her arms could hear.
"You are my Master, Shirou."
When the founding families had first set up the Grail System, they had taken into consideration a number of things that could go wrong with during the summoning. Several fail-safes were created to prevent things from going too wrong, such as in case more than one Catalyst was present during the ritual.
However, for all their foresight none of them could take into consideration so many peculiar circumstances over the course of more than one installment of the competition.
A corruption in the system caused by several tamperings over the centuries.
A Thaumaturgy circle long forgotten under a thin layer of dust.
A Masterless Servant when the War had yet to properly begin.
A prospective Master using the full Aria to Contract said Servant instead of the shortened version.
A powerful Catalyst with a strong connection to a single Heroic Spirit.
There were just too many things that couldn't be accounted for beforehand; too many variables that couldn't be taken into account. To begin with, the probability of such a situation arising was so miniscule that not once had it been considered as an eventuality.
And yet, it happened.
Behind the closed door of a darkened tool shed, the Circle came to life while a fierce battle raged just outside, bathing the room in a supernatural light. As the red haired Magus kept chanting, more and more power ran through the forgotten lines carved on the concrete floor.
No one noticed the increasing light seeping outside from the small windows. No one saw the figure of a sword-wielding girl clad in blue flickering for a fraction of second before disappearing again, as the Contract prioritized the already formed Servant over the still shapeless one.
And so that which was meant to happen did not come to pass. The pact between the young man and the female King who shared similar beliefs did not come to pass, disappearing along with everything that it would have encompassed into the endless ocean of possibilities that was the swirl of the Kaleidoscope.
Call it a miscalculation of Fate: a chance of one in several billions. An eventuality so remote that even the Gods would have overlooked it.
And so, without anyone even realizing what could have been, the world went down an otherwise impossible path. A path that would change the future of too many people to count.
XXX
A/N:
There we go. The long awaited fighting scene.
Before anyone starts whining about the impossibility of Kanshou and Bakuya to be around let me just make something perfectly clear. These two swords, as stated in the chapter itself, are Mystic Codes, not Noble Phantasms.
I don't think it was ever properly explained in the Nasuverse but I think the a Noble Phantasm isn't actually the same weapon wielded by the Heroic Spirit, but rather is very same concept as taken from the Root and then elevated through the power of its legend.
Just like the body of a dead Hero doesn't ascend to the Throne, the original Mystic Code (If such was the origin of the NP) remains in the world and if properly taken care of it can be preserved to the modern era.
That being said I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
See ya soon.