Who was Thor?
Kurata Shojiro was grinding his teeth in anger and frustration. His hands were balled into fists, his face was red and veiny, and the only thing preventing him from raging out loud, screaming his head off in fury, was the knowledge that he would be severely punished for producing any kind of audible noise, though it was a close thing nonetheless. That was how angry he was, how furious he felt towards those who treated him so unfairly.
This anger didn't come from nowhere. Most of it stemmed from the fact that he felt absolutely miserable at the moment, and was completely unable to do something about it. The resulting feeling of powerlessness easily changed into rage, and as his unfortunate situation continued, that rage only grew in size and intensity.
Kurata was standing in a back-alley in a deserted part of Fuyuki-City's outskirts, near a decrepit, seemingly abandoned apartment-complex, which he was supposed to guard from intruders. Safe to say, it was a horrible situation for a man to be in.
After all, it was winter, and not one of those weak winters with temperatures above ten degrees Celsius either. The weather was terrible! It was freezing cold, it rained, and the wind was the kind of wind that easily cut through even the thickest of coats.
It didn't help either that it was the dead of night, without a single ray of sunshine to provide some warmth or light to poor Kurata, who almost felt like an ice-statue at this point. The only source of light was the lamp he had brought with him, and the only means of staying warm was the coat he was wearing. A downright hell.
And to make matters even worse, this was the fourth night in a row he had been put on guard duty, and that he would likely be selected again the next day, and the one after that, and so on, without an end in sight.
Now, a normal, law-abiding citizen might wonder why he was standing guard in that back-alley, in the middle of the night, when he could just as well guard the apartment-complex from the inside, from where he'd be able to chase off intruders every bit as easily as from outside.
The answer to that was quite simple. Kurata Shojiro was a crook. A criminal. A member of one of the numerous small gangs that called Fuyuki-City their home. He stood outside because he was on the lookout for cops, not for petty thieves, and if you only noticed the police when they had already found you and entered your base, you were far too late.
As such, he had been posted outside and away from the base itself, at a position from where he had a reasonably good view of the main roads leading to the inner city, so he could spot police cars coming from kilometres away.
Kurata had always been destined for that line of work.
Being a criminal that is, not guarding. He was never meant for guarding things, only taking them.
Already from a young age he had been rebellious, troublesome, and lazy. Despite growing up in a fairly well-off family who had tried to keep him on the right path, he had never bothered to put any effort into his studies. He had much preferred hanging around with his similarly criminal buddies, doing all kinds of things that were much more fun than going to school, such as using drugs, extorting shop owners, and harassing prostitutes.
Eventually, his family had realised that he was not redeemable, no matter what they tried, and had subsequently cut ties with him, threatening to call the police if he ever showed up anywhere near them again. It had left him homeless and penniless, but not out of possibilities.
He and his friends had started a real criminal gang, doing much the same as before, only now full-time. Within months, they were the terror of the neighbourhood, and the absence of a strong police-presence and of strong rival-gangs meant they were free to continue growing even more.
The group had been involved in their usual business at first; drugs, extortion, muggings, and burgling, but had soon moved on to higher goals. It hadn't been long before they had started kidnapping and ransoming people for money, murdering others as hitmen-for-hire, human trafficking, and more.
Kurata, having always been the ringleader of his group of friends, had been named official gang-leader not long after they had become serious criminals. Under his leadership, the gang had grown from a few childhood friends to a couple dozen men in only a few years' time, with Kurata and his buddies sitting at the top.
Their ridiculously quick rise had left everyone involved completely baffled, Kurata himself most of all. That he and his friends, being as lazy, irresponsible, and impulsive as they were, had risen so far was inconceivable. They simply didn't have the drive, the ambition, or the capabilities to make it that far on their own.
His friends hadn't thought about it much, just happy to be at the top of the food chain, but Kurata, using the few braincells he had left after his copious drug-abuse, had suspected an invisible hand was at work to make them top-dogs, for some nebulous reason.
And once he had realised that, it wasn't hard for him to determine who was behind it all.
Back when Kurata and his buddies had been a small-time gang, only just dipping their toes in organised crime, they had been approached by a mysterious stranger, who had requested them to abduct people for him. There was no specification on who they had to abduct, just that they had to be people who were unimportant enough to not be missed.
Not seeing any problem with that, Kurata and his buddies had done as the stranger had asked, abducting homeless people and members of rivalling groups until they had collected a reasonable number of them. The stranger had been satisfied and had paid them a large sum of money.
Then he had asked for more people, and more again once they had delivered him another batch, and then more again, and more again…
That had continued for a few years. The obscene amounts of money that the stranger paid them, along with some very fortunate circumstances, had paved the way for Kurata's gang to rise to the top, where they had remained for quite some time.
Being a natural asshole, Kurata had contemplated at times to tell the man to go fuck himself once they didn't need him anymore, but every time he'd met the stranger in person, he would find himself again doing what that man asked of him.
No matter how much he tried saying no, he just couldn't. Something in the stranger's eyes hadn't let him get that little word over his lips.
Eventually, he'd stopped trying at all, and had just enjoyed the good life. Yes, the stranger's ability to persuade him was slightly worrying, but why fret about it when there were drugs and women to be appreciated?
Life had been perfect for him, for several wonderful years, but in his bliss and self-confidence, Kurata had forgotten the one thing his father had told him that had actually stuck with him since he'd been thrown out of the family.
'If something seems too good to be true, then it almost certainly is.'
Considering Kurata was of below-average intelligence and capability, his empire, build on the stranger's money and more subtle efforts to aid them, had been too good to be true, and it showed when the stranger retracted his support and left them on their own.
Only Kurata had escaped from the mass-arrests that had followed with weeks of them being abandoned. Only he had been able to crawl out while his empire fell to ruin around him. He had fled the city, abandoned his comrades, and left everything behind, just to save his own skin.
After some time on the road, he'd ended up in Fuyuki-City, a place he'd hoped never to set foot in, for the environment there was extremely bad for criminals like him.
Not because of the police though. They were even more hopeless in Fuyuki-City than in Kurata's hometown, and that was saying something.
The problem for criminals in this city was that it already had a large, organized criminal presence in the form of the local Yakuza. This particular branch of the infamous Japanese crime-families was led by the notorious Fujimura-clan, who were very allergic to rivals, no matter how small or insignificant. Kurata had been forced to join a small-time gang at the edge of town just to survive in the hostile climate.
It was a big setback for him. He had gone from being the leader of a big criminal organisation to being one of the lowest stooges of a no-name, tiny gang. They had less than thirty members for God's sake. The only reason Kurata hadn't bolted again yet was because he had absolutely no guarantee of finding greener pastures anywhere else.
Besides, despite his grousing just now, it wasn't all bad here. Sure, the gang might be small, but that meant fewer rivals. They might not have a lot of money, but he was used to that and actually worked best when his resources were limited. The gang might not have a lot of influence, but he would fix that in time, he was sure of it.
Actually, he was still holding out hope that the mysterious stranger who had made his original group so big would approach him again. He didn't know what he'd done wrong for the stranger to have cut ties with him so suddenly, but certainly, the stranger would soon see that Kurata was the best ally he could possibly have?
Many times, Kurata had wished he could have contacted the stranger, but he had no knowledge of that guy whatsoever. He didn't even know what they looked like.
It was very strange in fact. Despite having met the man, if it was indeed a man at all, several times, he could remember nothing distinctive about him. In his memory, no matter how hard Kurata concentrated, the stranger remained a blurry form with a distorted voice.
Heck, that hadn't been the only strange thing. The stranger had somehow managed to get even the most hot-headed people of the gang to work for him, sometimes even by only staring them in the eyes.
Much was unknown, but Kurata did know one thing for sure. If that guy didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be found. All Kurata could do was wait until contact was made again.
If only the wait wasn't so damn cold though. While he was lost in memories, the rain had drenched his coat, and Kurata had to spend several minutes rubbing his arms and jumping in place to regain some warmth.
It served as a good reminder that he was supposed to be angry right now, not contemplative. It was outrageous for him to be on guard duty again, while he had the capability to do much more important work.
But no, his superiors had ordered him to stand guard again, visibly enjoying his dismay every time. His dismay and that of the four other guys who were made to join him in this horrible duty.
Now, five guards might seem like a bit much for a small gang like theirs, and normally, one guard would indeed have been enough, often more than enough even, but the situation was far from normal now.
Over the last week, the small gangs of Fuyuki-City had been dropping like flies. Where before they had been mostly left alone, it seemed like at least one gang a day was being arrested now.
Kurata had been very spooked to hear this, fearing another mass-purge like the one that had crushed his empire, but ultimately, his superiors had told him something that both reassured him and greatly puzzled him.
It was a vigilante.
Contacts within the police had revealed that a vigilante, a civilian with delusions of grandeur, was responsible for the recent arrests. Every night, the police would be called one, two, maybe even three times, by someone requesting them to come arrest a large number of people.
Upon arriving at the designated spot, the police would always find the entire gang unconscious and restrained, with enough evidence scattered around to make any charges stick.
The emergence of this vigilante had made his superiors very nervous. By all accounts, this crime-fighter was ruthless, efficient, brutally effective, and unbeatable. Once he was on your trail, you wouldn't make it through the night.
That was why Kurata was standing out in the rain like this, instead of sitting somewhere warm and comfortable. He had to watch out for the supposed hero and pump him full of lead if he showed himself.
Honestly, Kurata was almost hoping the vigilante would show up already, so he could just shoot him and be done with it all. He'd had enough of these endless nights. He was wet, cold, and above all, bored out of his mind.
Not in the mood to continue reminiscing about better times, Kurata turned towards his closest fellow guard, hoping for a conversation, knowing that man was most likely just as bored as he was.
In all honesty, Kurata would have preferred not talking to him, as the man had cheated him out of a part of the alley with an overhang, providing some shelter from the rain, but needs must and all.
However, when Kurata turned towards the man, he saw only an empty spot. There was no one there. The smoking, coughing, and cursing man that had been standing there only minutes ago had disappeared without a trace.
Being an experienced back-stabber himself, Kurata immediately assumed the man had ditched him and the other three guards to return inside.
That wouldn't fly with him!
If he didn't get to slack on this accursed job, then no one would. He would tell his superiors about this insubordination at once, so they could punish this traitor.
He sprinted out of the alley, in search of the three other guards that were supposed to be spread out throughout the area, to tell them they had been betrayed by one of their own.
His anger was quickly replaced by nervousness though when he discovered that those other guards had also disappeared somewhere in the last few minutes.
This was getting weird. One stupid idiot slacking off he could understand, but all four of them at once? When they knew the superiors would punish them heavily for it?
No, something was wrong here. Had Kurata missed a call to come back inside when he had been reminiscing the past? Had they spotted an intruder they were now pursuing?
Or… had something worse happened?
Suddenly, Kurata noticed how silent it was around him. Not a single sound could be heard, nothing. Even the wind had suddenly died down, leaving Kurata to realise just how deafeningly loud his footsteps and breathing actually were.
He swung his lamp around, the lamp that was the only source of light in the area and marked him as prime prey for any nightcrawler out there, but he saw nothing but darkness. He walked several steps and winced as the sound echoed through the alleys.
Kurata's heart was in his throat, his breathing became erratic, and sweat broke out on his skin as every shadow seemed to hide a monster, moving unnaturally as if something dark was preparing to pounce on him.
He almost cried in fear, and, in his desperation, stumbled towards the spot where he had last seen his fellow guard, going forward even though his every instinct told him to run away.
The alley he crept through was scarier than it had ever been before, and to make matters worse, his lamp started flickering randomly, making it even easier for the man-eating demons that could be hiding in the shadows to sneak up on him.
Then the light of his lamp fell on a pile of boxes, being placed in such a way that they could easily hide something human-sized from his view.
…He had seen enough horror-films to know where this was going.
Kurata really wanted to flee, to run to the apartment complex as fast as he could, to get more guys and guns and Holy Crosses and flame-throwers, but he couldn't. If it turned out he had been panicking over nothing, running away like a little girl at the first sign of trouble, he would be put on guard duty for the rest of his life.
So with a gulp and a prayer to any god who was willing to listen, he took the last step… and looked behind the boxes.
He whimpered as he saw precisely what he had been fearing; The downed body of his fellow guard.
Kurata burst out into frightened tears, sobbing uncontrollably in fear. He was alone, in the middle of the night, next to the body of a victim, while the thing that had killed him was clearly still around.
He was going to die! He was going to get eaten by a monster! It was all over for him!
With all his reasoning having gone out of the window, Kurata promptly turned around to run away. No way he was going to stay here! No fucking way! He would flee and warn the others! It was his only chance.
But his attempt to flee was too little, too late.
"Please don't scream, you'll wake the neighbours." A voice suddenly said from behind him.
Kurata turned around in a flash, and saw a black-clothed man with a mask hiding his lower face and a hood over his head step closer to him with his arm drawn back. "You really shouldn't have walked out of my sight. My blunted arrows would have hurt a lot less than this will."
Then the crook saw a fist coming for his face, much too fast to dodge. He had but a moment to swear in his mind, before the blow struck him full on. His head exploded in pain, and everything went black.
Shirou looked with mild pity at the prone form of the criminal he had just taken down. He hadn't lied when he said that a punch would hurt more than the blunted arrows that he'd used to take out the four other guards, but the man's disadvantageous position had left him no other choice but to get up-close and physical.
Regrettable, but only a little. The man was still a criminal after all, and a headache was probably the least he deserved.
Shirou did wonder though why the man had suddenly started crying for no discernible reason just before he had tried to run away.
Well, no matter. With the guards out of the picture, Shirou was now free to assault the main body of the gang. He would take them down and then call the police to handle the rest, just like he had done so many times before this week.
With his physical superiority, Magecraft, and the training he'd gotten from his father, fighting the gangs of Fuyuki-City was easier than he could ever have imagined. These missions were the very definition of 'he came, he saw, he conquered', and though Shirou did his best not to get conceited, it was hard to keep taking it seriously when it was always over in a breeze.
Which was perhaps why the universe had decided to throw an extra challenge his way. A warning not to underestimate how difficult it was to become a hero. Something that greatly complicated his vigilantism and would need a lot of attention to deal with.
Some of the criminals he'd fought had a weird smell about them.
No, Shirou didn't mean they stank. Well, they did also stink, but that wasn't what he meant. Rather, he meant that they smelled like Magical Energy.
In other words, a Magus was involved in the matter.
The man lying on the ground in front of him was a perfect example. At first sight, he seemed like nothing more than an ordinary crook, but upon closing the distance, Shirou found he had a very faint trace of Magecraft on him.
It was much too weak for him to be a Magus himself, but potent enough to suggest he had come into contact with Thaumaturgy a lot more often and more intimately than most people did. Exactly the same went for the other crooks with the smell.
Shirou's first thought was that they must have had their memories altered by a Magus. That happened sometimes, when they saw something they shouldn't have. Upon closer inspection however, he was forced to discard that theory.
These crooks, each and every one of them, had been in contact with the Moonlit World for a long period of time. It would take months, perhaps even years, for the smell to build up like it had, which meant a Magus must have gone out of their way to keep associating with these men.
Why they would do such a thing, Shirou didn't know. Personally, he didn't see what was so interesting about these criminals. The smell didn't lie though, so there had to be something that would compel a Magus to spend so much time on them.
Or rather, multiple Magi, as he had been able to determine that there were five distinct smells, returning over and over again as he continued his purge of the city.
It was something he would have to look into at some point, though not now. He had to take down that gang before they would realise something was amiss.
Quickly calling the police ahead of time on a burner phone, Shirou jogged towards the building and leapt through an open window on the third floor. Once inside, he made for the nearest wall outlet, which he promptly overloaded with a dose of lightning.
All the lights in the building went out simultaneously, eliciting shocked cries from all those inside. Upon hearing the chaos, Shirou did not waste a second, opening the door of the room and rushing into the darkness, where his improved and Reinforced eyes allowed him to see far better than any ordinary human could.
His first victim was found quickly, and once that man was down, and the rest realised that he was there, the chaos was complete. Frightened and overwhelmed, they could mount no further resistance, and nothing more had to be done but mobbing them up.
Nice and easy, just like all those other gangs he'd taken down over the course of the week.
His total 'score' of gangs he'd dealt with was at twelve, thirteen if you counted the gang he was fighting now, and he was getting better and better at this vigilante-business with every criminal he caught.
The streets were becoming safer every night, more people were protected with every criminal going down, and Shirou himself got a lot of practice in with his Magecraft and mundane fighting-skills.
In other words, he'd had a pretty productive week so far.
That he'd also spent a lot of time with Sakura and Taiga was the icing on the cake, and made the past week even better than it would have been had he only been doing vigilante-things.
There was one downside to it all though, and that was that Mjolnir had seen very little action that week, or rather, no action at all. Shirou hadn't used the hammer in battle or training, as it was just too powerful to be wielded in a city.
To make up for it, Shirou had promised the hammer that he would soon take some time out of his schedule to fly deep into the forest next to the city and practise with it there, where there was no chance of anyone being hurt.
Mjolnir gave an excited thrum from inside his head at the prospect, and Shirou shook his head with a laugh, visibly freaking out the criminal he was fighting.
The man didn't have to suffer for long though, as Shirou knocked him unconscious a moment later. As the man was the last member of the gang to have remained conscious, the redhead then quickly made to leave again, before the police would arrive and possibly catch a glimpse of him. He might be wearing a mask, but when it came to keeping your identity a secret, you couldn't be careful enough.
Calling Mjolnir to his hand, Shirou spun the hammer rapidly, before launching himself into the sky, away from the apartment-complex and the twenty-eight unconscious criminals inside and outside of it.
He came down in his own backyard a few minutes later, upon which he promptly entered his shed to put away his vigilante-outfit.
The reason he was wearing that outfit instead of his Magical armour was because the latter was impractical for a vigilante to wear. For all that it provided fantastic protection, it was utterly unfit for stealth and surprise attacks, being too bright and sparkly. It was for open battles and during emergencies. For his self-appointed missions in the dark of the night, he needed something else to wear.
That something else was an all-black outfit, consisting of tight pants, a form-fitting shirt, a long-sleeved jacket with hood, black gloves, black boots, and a mask in front of his lower face. It was quite simple, but it worked just fine. Reinforcing it made it as hard as Kevlar, so it could provide a bit of protection too.
"Trace on." Once he'd changed back into his normal clothes, Shirou Altered the composition of the outfit, reducing it from whole pieces of clothing to lose shreds of cloth, wrapped in a bundle. This process could be reverted with another Alteration, making it very easy for Shirou to hide and take along his outfit wherever he went.
After putting the bundle on one of the shelves in the shed, where it looked entirely inconspicuous, Shirou went to check on two ongoing experiments had lying around.
The first was a sword he had Traced about a week ago, with the explicit purpose of finding out how long his Projections would last. It was holding on just fine so far. Despite him not adding any more Magical Energy to the construct, it was still present and in fairly good condition. He'd estimate it had another three weeks to go before it would disappear. Considering a normal Projection done by another Magus would barely last a couple of hours, that was amazing.
It didn't quite hold up to the Projected pots and pans that had been holding on for months now, but he regularly sent an infuse of Magical Energy to those things, so it was only logical they would last longer.
The second experiment involved the Runes he had drawn in the shed. Their purpose was to hide any traces of Magical Energy that might leak out and to provide extra defences for the small building. Shirou did not expect them to be needed any time in the near future, but if this experiment went well, he might be able to use these Runes to upgrade the defences of the entire estate.
It wasn't something he'd considered before, using Runes for any kind of serious purpose, as he had never been very talented at their use. Kiritsugu had taught him a few Runes, and he could use them, somewhat, but he had definitely been far below average with them.
That had changed, considerably.
Three days ago, he'd gotten it into his head that he wanted to see whether his improved Magical Energy reserves had any influence on his talent for using Runes. He had drawn one of the simplest Runes he knew, the Rune of fire, Sowilo, on a piece of paper, adding but a tiny amount of power to the drawing. He had been expecting a small spark to appear, just like every other time he had used this particular Rune.
As such, he had been completely unprepared for the large burst of very hot and potent fire that had sprung forth from the Rune. In fact, if it hadn't been for him cutting of the power behind the spell right away, it might have burned down the entire shed in seconds.
In hindsight, that surprising potency only made sense. Runes were incredibly important in Norse Mythology, so of course Shirou had now become much more skilled with them overnight now that he had Mjolnir.
Whacking himself on the head for his oversight, since that was what Kiritsugu would have done had he been present, Shirou opted to be more careful with Runes in the future.
He wasn't going to stop using them though. Runes were much too versatile and useful to be ignored, especially if you had talent for them, which Shirou now apparently had.
Learning more about Runes wouldn't be easy for him though. The books he possessed were too basic to provide anything beyond the simplest of Runes and the most general of information, all of which he had already memorised and mastered.
To learn more, he needed better books that provided more in-depth knowledge, but to get them, he would either have to expose himself and pay through the nose or rob an older Magus-family, neither of which he was willing to do at the moment. As such, he was stuck.
That is, he had been stuck, until Mjolnir had suddenly started vibrating in excitement, once more indicating it had something to tell him.
The images he had learned to expect every time Mjolnir wanted to convey something had then entered his mind, and he saw knowledge and Runes flash by at great speed, too fast for him to make sense of. This whirlwind of information had continued for a while, until the flow had stopped, and he had received knowledge about three new Runes.
One Rune that would hide any Magic cast in an area, one that would keep away decay in a house, and one that would hinder and weaken any and all Magecraft cast against the estate and anyone within.
They were quite useful, if slightly underpowered Runes. Very fit to be used by a beginner, as Mjolnir had no doubt intended. Shirou had promptly cast them over the shed the same afternoon, to test them.
Now, three days later, he concluded that they were very effective at what they did. Perfect to cast over the estate as well, which could certainly do with a boost in defence.
The Emiya-estate wasn't very well defended. Save for a few Bounded Fields that kept Magical Energy and sound contained within, as well as one that would inform him of intruders, there were no protections in place.
Magical protections left traces after all, very noticeable traces, and if someone, like Tohsaka Rin, were to pick on those traces, Shirou would be in big trouble.
Now that he had a Rune that hid Magic though, Shirou could afford to expand his house's defences a bit, at least with those three Runes. He'd add more if he came across any other defence-oriented spells.
Mjolnir had refused to give him any more of such spells though, whether it be Runes or anything else. It was adamant that Shirou first progress in ability and power himself, through hard training and honest battle, before Mjolnir would show him any other Runes. Having everything just handed to you didn't build character, and could even be dangerous when it came to Magic of any kind.
Shirou understood that perfectly well and hadn't pressed Mjolnir on its decision.
Back in the present, Shirou finished checking up on his projects, and he walked back into the main building of the estate to go to bed.
Before sleep overtook him though, a question popped up in his mind. A question he should perhaps have asked himself sooner.
With all of the hecticness of the past week, he'd largely forgotten, but it was undeniable that Mjolnir was an utterly abnormal weapon.
Not just because it had given him several amazing powers and abilities out of the blue, or because it came from another world, or even because it had crossed dimensions to present itself to Shirou, a boy with nothing special about him.
Mjolnir also got enthusiastic about fights, no matter how small, was eager to help him become a hero, had no problem with him helping mere mortals, and, of course, was completely sentient and sapient.
It was a weapon unlike anything in Shirou's own world.
Which implied its previous owner had to have been much the same.
So as he lied in the dark, many stray thoughts filling his head, Shirou could ultimately only ask one question.
'Who was Thor?'
The next evening, Shirou found himself not in the shed practicing Magecraft, but rather behind his laptop at the dinner table. He had just said goodbye to the girls, who had left after dinner, and was now wrapped up again in his more secret activities.
He wasn't training or exercising however, not today. Today, he wanted to learn about Thor. To go through all information that was available to discover the kind of man (god?) the Odinson had been. And of course, to learn about Thor's abilities, since those could very well be Shirou's abilities now.
As such, this evening had become a long study session, spent looking up information from all kinds of sources. Books, articles, websites, it didn't matter for now, as long as the subject was the God of Thunder, or something closely related to him.
Most of the information he found was utter nonsense, as was to be expected on the Internet. Most people just made things up to sound knowledgeable, others misquoted the actual sources, and again some others wrote modern stories with Thor as the main character but had their Thor often not matching the original one.
There were other sources that did seem trustworthy, but those were very limited in scope, not telling Shirou anything he didn't already know.
The fact that the Mjolnir he possessed was from a different world entirely, indicating that the Thor from the other world, the Other-Thor, was entirely different as well, only complicated the matter even more.
There were several similarities between Thor and Other-Thor that he could grasp onto however. They both had a weapon called Mjolnir, they both were the God of Thunder, and they had both loved a stiff drink, according to the few stories Mjolnir had told Shirou about its previous owner.
There was also the Runes. The Thor of Shirou's world had been a Norse god, so some proficiency with the Script had to be expected. Other-Thor also seemed to have had a talent for them, if Shirou's own greatly improved aptitude was anything to go by.
What Shirou couldn't for the life of him discover however was whether Other-Thor had been a god, as in, a god according to the laws of Shirou's world. Gods were bound to pretty specific rules and had mind-boggling powers, so if Shirou was going to be lifted to godhood soon, he would like to know about that well in advance.
The gods of Shirou's world had possessed powers far beyond the might of modern Magi, maybe even beyond the True Magics. No specifics were known however, as the gods had never been studied properly by objective and dedicated researchers who bothered writing their findings down for the next generations, leaving Shirou with barely anything to go by.
There were some half-hearted theories, that the immense power of the gods had had something to do with Authority, the ability to command the World to be as you wanted, and some version of a Marble Phantasm or Reality Marble, but that had never been confirmed by anyone.
He certainly hadn't noticed any of the sort inside himself. He had gotten the boost, and the mysterious power, but nothing more as far as he'd seen, which was perhaps for the best. It wasn't like he needed a Reality Marble after all...
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After shaking his head to lose the sudden buzz, Shirou refocused on the information he had gathered so far, before concluding that, no matter what Mjolnir might say, Shirou definitely wasn't Thor's equal in any way.
There was no way for instance that Shirou would be able to lift a snake so big it could wrap itself around the world, nor would he be able to face the Fenrirwolf when it came down to it. Not to mention the thousand other feats Thor had managed that left Shirou's head spinning.
Shirou searched for a while longer for anything else on Thor besides those impossible-sounding stories, but ultimately had to conclude that there really wasn't anything more to find on the web.
So he was stuck. Stuck with nothing more than vague stories and unsubstantiated theories.
Slightly disappointing, but not disastrous. If there were no instructions left for him, he would have to find out for himself. It would be a tedious task, but Shirou could not deny the prospect of discovering his new powers filled him with slight eagerness as well.
If this was what other Magi felt every time they did research, then perhaps he could understand their drive somewhat better now. Not to the point where he understood why butchering innocents could ever be acceptable, but he could see now why Tohsaka would sometimes stay up all night to work on her projects.
Anyway, that concluded the theoretical part of the evening, so now he could move on to the practical side of the matter. It was time to go out to the forest, maybe visit Issei while he was at it, and see for himself what Mjolnir was capable of.
The hammer could barely wait, and honestly, neither could Shirou, so he wasted not a moment stepping out into the backyard, and then launched himself into the sky.
Soaring through the air, he quickly reached the borders of the forest. Once he'd landed there, he made his way over to the Ryuudou-temple, in order to visit his new friend, Ryuudou Issei, the son of the owner of said temple.
The first time the two teens had talked with each other, when Shirou had visited his father's grave, they had hit it off pretty well, so now, every time Shirou came to visit the graveyard, he also hung around after to talk with Issei.
Once he'd entered the temple, absently noting the Bounded Fields surrounding the place as he did, Shirou had an easy time picking out Issei from the present crowd, as the black-haired teen was the only non-adult around at this hour.
"Oi, Issei!" He called, waving a wand in an attempt to catch his friend's attention.
Looking up from his chore of sweeping the floors, Issei gave him a surprised smile, straightening his back with a small crack.
"Good evening Emiya-san." He responded, setting aside his broom for the moment. "I didn't expect to see you today. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine, Issei. Thank you for asking." Shirou smiled, consciously avoiding the reason of his being there, as he didn't want to lie to Issei. "How about yourself? Has anything interesting happened since I last was here?"
"Nothing much, I'm afraid, it's still as peaceful, quiet, and boring as ever." Contrary to his words, Issei didn't seem to mind the fact that it had been quiet all that much. "People come and go, we monks do our chores, and my father still preaches daily. I did get started on the karate lessons I had been planning to attend, so I suppose that's news."
"I'm happy to hear it." Shirou smiled, genuinely pleased on Issei's behalf. "You've been talking about wanting to follow those lessons for quite a while now."
"Yes, I was quite happy too." Issei laughed softly. "It took some time, but I managed to wear father and Nii-san down at last. Oh, but how rude it is of me to keep you when you wish to visit your father. Please, follow me."
"Thank you."
The two teens didn't speak after that, keeping their silence as they entered the temple's graveyard to pay their respect to Kiritsugu. As it was already quite late however, they were sent back to the central area a few minutes later by the grave-keepers, where they resumed their conversation, this time about the high school they had both chosen to attend.
Homurahara High. One of the best schools in the city. Renowned for its quality of education and its clubs. It wasn't quite an 'elite'-school, as it accepted students no matter where they came from, but it did have an excellent reputation in the area as having nearly all its students pass every year.
For Issei, it was that excellent reputation that made him want to attend Homurahara, while Shirou honestly cared more about the fact that it was within walking distance of his house, since he wasn't legally allowed to drive yet, 'legally' being the key word there.
They spoke about their plans for a while, before they had to end their conversation, as Issei's father ordered him to continue his chores. Issei apologized for cutting their talk short so bluntly, but Shirou didn't mind. It was actually quite convenient for him, as he had more to do that evening.
He walked out of the temple and into the forest, keeping up a brisk pace until he was sufficiently far from the city that no one should be able to see him anymore. Then he summoned Mjolnir and took to the skies again, heading even further away from the city.
Tonight, he was planning to unleash the power of a divine weapon. That would be flashy, loud, and potentially dangerous, so he'd have to be a great distance away from any kind of civilisation in order to remain undetected and to ensure he didn't accidently hit anyone. Deep inside a forest, the latter should be extremely unlikely, while he would ensure the former by casting Runes that hid Magical Energy once he'd found a good place for his experiments.
After a few minutes of flying and searching the ground under him, Shirou arrived at a spot that practically seemed made for the purpose of practicing powerful Thaumaturgy in secret.
It was a clearing with a small pond next to it, located very deep in the forest, far away from any paths or living areas. Trees surrounded it on three sides, with the pond bordering it at the West side. The clearing itself was quite large, about fifty metres long and wide at the minimum. There even was a small rock-formation in the middle of the open field, where Shirou could aim his more destructive Magecraft at to see what kind of damage it would do. In the clearing itself grew grass, clover, and a few flowers. No bushes and roots that could potentially be a hindrance to him. It was perfect.
Which of course made it suspicious. If it hadn't been for the complete lack of any smell, aura, or visual sign that would indicate the presence of anything unnatural, Shirou would have departed again immediately, fearing a trap of some kind.
As things were now however, he was fairly confident that this place had been created by nature itself. The only thing that might have convinced him otherwise was the strange crack in the biggest rock of the formation in the middle of the clearing, which was shaped precisely in the form of a capital 'B'. That was such a little detail however that Shirou dismissed it after a moment.
So he came down in the clearing, but unlike previous times, he did not dismiss Mjolnir right away. He kept it in his hand, lifting it to eyelevel to observe it once more.
Examining it closely like this, he had to admit that the craftsmanship of the hammer was extraordinary. There was no sign of damage, lack of maintenance, or a single flaw in its design anywhere. It was smooth, pristine, and powerful, and despite being thousands of years old at the minimum, it had not lost any of its shine. Whoever made this weapon must have been an absolute master at forging to be able to create something like this.
"Thank you for your patience, Mjolnir." Shirou said, smiling at the hammer. "It must have been boring to not do anything for a week, but we can get started now, if you want."
The weapon gave a hum in response, from which Shirou could decipher two meanings. One that said that the hammer had had no problems waiting and that it was old enough to have learned patience by now. The other however said to cut the mushy stuff and get testing already.
Not about to keep the hammer waiting even longer, Shirou stretched out his right arm, pointing Mjolnir forward at a slightly upwards angle. He then closed his eyes and reached inside himself, into his soul, where the mysterious power laid waiting for his commands, ready to come forth. That was good, because tonight, Shirou wanted it to come forth with a vengeance.
Mjolnir was aimed at the rocks in the middle of the clearing. With no living creature nearby that might get hurt from the coming violence, now was the time to see what the divine tool was capable of, even if it was merely a fraction of its true might.
Shirou took hold of the mysterious power, letting it spread through his entire body. Then, when he felt he had a solid handle on it, he pushed a tiny little bit outwards from his right hand, sending it through the hammer.
The mysterious power could do many different things depending on what Shirou wanted it to do. It could manifest as lightning, fire, or just energy. It could empower Runes and reinforce and improve Bounded Fields. According to Mjolnir, it could do even more than that in the future if Shirou was willing to put in the required effort.
There was no shortage of possibilities to choose from if Shirou wanted to do damage, but there was one thing he wanted to test first.
Thor's most basic attack, the element that was always associated with him, a variant of the first spell Shirou had ever cast using the mysterious power.
Lightning.
It sprang forth as his command. A full blast of it was fired from Mjolnir, travelling at insane speed towards its target. It was only because of his enhanced speed and perception that Shirou was able to follow its path at all. It was a lightning bolt that would have been right at home in the greatest of thunderstorms. Any mortal standing in its way would be obliterated without a doubt.
The stone that bore the brunt of the attack did not fare much better. Upon being hit by Shirou's lightning, the rocks at the front of the formation were pulverized, and a deep crater was struck into the small hill. Little fragments were sent in all directions from the force of the explosion, including Shirou's direction.
Stupefied by the sheer destruction he had wrought, Shirou was too late to lift his hands to protect his face, or generally take any other action to shield his more vulnerable parts against the onslaught of stone fragments coming his way.
Now, if Shirou had only received the hammer, and nothing more, the hail would have been a large problem. However, Thor had seen it fit to send his own essence along with Mjolnir, to be used by the next wielder of the hammer. So when Shirou had picked up the hammer, the essence had been absorbed by him. Though it was still largely dormant, it had by that time already increased Shirou's durability enough to defend him against simple shards of rock.
The redhead saw and felt to his astonishment that the fragments just bounced off his skin. Shards that should have torn into his flesh with ease were now being deflected as if they were ping-pong balls thrown by a child.
This would have been understandable if he had been wearing his armour, but he wasn't. He was just wearing normal loose-fitting clothes, the same as he'd worn all day, as he hadn't seen the need to put on his vigilante-apparel for a secret outing with the purpose of training alone.
The shirt he had on was indeed torn to pieces by the shards, as it was nothing more than a mundane piece of cloth, but his skin was completely unmarred.
It was quite a discovery to make so suddenly, but as Shirou was getting quite used to shocking discoveries, he was able to chalk it up as yet another enhancement granted to him by the divine weapon in his hand.
Leaving his skin for what it was, Shirou walked over to the small hill to determine how much damage his lightning bolt had done. It turned out to be quite a lot, for there were no more rocks at the place he had aimed at. There was only empty space, with a bit of dust and some fragments on the ground.
He had completely obliterated the stones.
Nodding once, Shirou made a note of his destructive potential, before moving on to the next test, which consisted of the usage of simple brute force. Thor was said to have been able to create valleys and break mountains with his punches alone, and Shirou wondered whether he had received a bit of that enormous strength.
He put Mjolnir aside for a moment, drew back his fist, and then punched the rocks in front of him, all of his not-inconsiderable strength put behind that one blow.
It proved enough to shatter the boulder he had chosen to punch. His fist had broken the stone as easily as if it were a thin sheet of ice. Even with Reinforcement, he wouldn't have been able to do such a thing before, but now, it was easy.
Picking up Mjolnir again, Shirou moved towards another boulder, planning to test the strength of the strikes he could deliver when using Mjolnir as it was meant to be used, as a hammer. So without further ado, he swung the hammer leisurely, not seeing any reason to put much strength behind it for now, aimed right at the poor rock in front of him, suspecting it too would shatter into pieces upon being hit by the weapon.
'BOOM'
He was right, the rock did in fact shatter. So did most of the boulders surrounding it. Oh, and the ground cratered as well, cracks appearing in a circle with Mjolnir at the very centre. The earth also literally dented, as if a rock weighing ten tons had dropped there from fifty metres high.
Yet another mind-blowing testament to his strength, but Shirou did not stop to stare and gape. He did not have the time to waste on that, as he wanted to get his experiments done with before the hour grew too late.
Next up was the hammer throw. Mjolnir had shown him enough images of the procedure to know how he was supposed to execute such a technique. He drew back his arm, aimed for the pond next to the clearing, and threw the hammer with all of his might. The reason he had chosen the pond to aim at was because the water would absorb most of the force behind Mjolnir, without there being too much destruction.
Still, the result of throwing a Divine weapon at a body of water turned out to be quite noticeable and apparent anyway. The explosion of force at the point of contact between the hammer and the pond's surface sent half of the water flying ten metres up in the air. It also made the lake shore nearest to the place where Mjolnir had hit crumble like a dry cake.
Now the hammer laid at the bottom of the pond. Not fancying a swim at the moment, Shirou held out his open hand and, in accordance with the divine weapon's instructions, called Mjolnir back him.
"Mjolnir! To me!"
The command could of course have been given mentally, but since it was the first time he'd ever done something like this, Shirou felt it was better, and cooler, to say it out loud.
Mjolnir immediately responded to his command. The hammer burst forth from the water, flying towards its wielder at great speed, before twisting in the air to present its handle to Shirou, who caught it easily.
Upon feeling Mjolnir safely in his hand again, Shirou brought the hammer close him and used it to draw the Rune of Fire in the air, making sure to point it upwards so he wouldn't burn down the forest, or himself.
It was a good thing he had chosen to do so, for the fire storm that roared into existence at the completion of the Rune would have turned the forest into an inferno right away. Even aimed towards the sky it was almost enough to set fire to Shirou's surroundings through sheer heat alone.
Despite the risk of immolation through forest fire, Shirou felt a grin come to his face. With all of this power at his disposal, becoming a hero had never been so close. Soon, he would be able to go out and help people, to actually save everyone, as he had promised both himself and his dad.
Right now though, he needed to rest for a bit.
Though his actions over the past minutes weren't particularly draining or exhausting, as he had been keeping it relatively calm and easy, this was still the most power he had ever channelled in such a short time. That, coupled with the constant shock he felt at the scope and intensity of his powers, did take a lot out of him.
So he put Mjolnir on the ground for a moment and rested his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths to get some energy back.
Even as he took those deep breaths though, he couldn't get the delighted grin off his face. How could he? Being a Hero of Justice had become an attainable goal for him now, instead of only a distant dream.
Okay, admittedly, it had always been an attainable goal, as he would have worked, trained, and struggled until he had become a hero, but now he had made a massive leap forward. All thanks to Mjolnir.
"This is amazing, Mjolnir." He laughed, grinning down at the weapon lying next to him. "I still do not know why you choose me of all people, but I promise that I will strive to be worthy of wielding you."
Then, after hesitating for a few seconds, he continued, his voice lowering.
"Do you know, perhaps, what Thor would have thought of me?"
Shirou wasn't sure why he asked that all of a sudden, but for some reason, the opinion of his predecessor seemed inordinately vital to him.
The hammer didn't react at first, remaining dead silent, though Shirou could feel it having an internal debate with itself.
Eventually, it seemed to come to a decision, and it promptly sent him an image, of Shirou himself lying against a tree at the edge of clearing.
It appeared that Mjolnir wanted him to sit down for this.
Seeing no problem with that, Shirou picked up the hammer, turned around, walked to the edge of the open field, and then sat down against a tree, leaning back against it so he could watch the sky, which was filled with more stars than he could ever have seen from within the city.
Air pollution was such a terrible thing. All pollution was horrendous, period. It was one of the main reasons why Gaia was trying to extinguish humanity after, as it was one of the ways humans were rapidly destroying Earth.
Discarding the morose train of thought that had come out of nowhere, Shirou focused on Mjolnir again.
"You wanted to show me something?" He asked, reasonably sure that was the case.
A feeling of agreement came from Mjolnir, followed by a sudden harsh thrum that took Shirou by surprise. The thrum soon ceased however, and the hammer went still again. Then sparks of lightning started to dance over the hammer's surface and the inscription on the side lit up blue, before, without further warning, a tidal wave of information flooded Shirou's mind.
It was far too much information for him to be able to discern and remember, yet Shirou saw and remembered enough to get at least somewhat of a coherent picture of what he was now being shown.
It was someone's life he was seeing, that much he could determine from it, but not just any life. This was the life of a god, a life lasting thousands of years.
He saw a young boy, full of dreams of glory and righteous battle, wanting to protect and save as many people as he could. A dream supported by his mother and approved of by his father. He watched as the boy grew older, gaining a new brother and many friends, but forgetting himself in battle-lust and the need for mere glory as opposed to saving and serving the masses.
He could see the boy being punished for his hubris by his father, how it humbled him and brought him back on the right path, the man once more remembering who he truly was. He saw the man make more friends, find enemies, and gain fond memories of them all.
Shirou saw the man experience happiness and hope, sadness and loss, grief and despair. The man lost many things, coming close to losing it all, but he persisted and fought for what was right, at the side of his family. He saw how the tenaciousness brought the man supreme power, used only to protect and save.
Shirou realized with a start that this could only be Thor. Thor, who had not given up even when all seemed eternally bleak and dark at once. Even when everything around him came apart at the seams, Thor held on to what was right, he fought, and eventually, he won.
Shirou did not see much of the ending of Thor's life, but he could feel, somehow, through Mjolnir, that it had been a happy ending. It had been a death that the Odinson had deserved at the end of the long road he had travelled to become as great a man as he could be.
Shirou must have sat there for at least an hour, and still he had seen only flashes and shards of the total memories of the hero that had wielded Mjolnir before him. It had been more of a set of emotions and learning processes than actual words and images really. He had seen only Thor, not the friends and enemies Thor had made and not the locations where Thor had been in his life. Mjolnir had only conveyed great moments and happenings, not things useful for training or even any real information about Thor.
Instead, it had given him something far better. It had shown him the sheer conviction and tenaciousness that Thor had possessed, the drive he'd had to improve himself ever more in order to protect everyone and everything around him. It had shown him that heroes could in fact have a happy ending where they saved everyone.
Seeing the extent of Thor's heroics, how he saved people everywhere and under any circumstances, made Shirou realize he was being very short-sighted in his own actions. He had limited himself to the small gangs of Fuyuki-City, never going beyond the borders, never even thinking about going further than just his hometown. He had received a Divine weapon and he was only using it to hammer nails, so to speak.
That did not mean of course that stopping and apprehending the gangs was an unworthy pursuit, certainly not. The problem here was more that he had not made any plans beyond that. A big oversight on his part. What had he been planning to do after defeating all gangs in the city? Just hang around waiting for more of them to come to him?
Even before Mjolnir had arrived, he had been making plans about stepping up his game, about entering the Moonlit World even. Why had he not developed those plans further with the new additions to his arsenal? Staying in Fuyuki-city was an enormous waste of his potential.
It seemed that receiving the hammer had made him lax in his ambitions, too distracted from the planning that had been drilled into him by his father. He needed to reignite his ambitions.
It was no longer enough to fight crime in Fuyuki-City only. There were more gangs to stop in other cities, criminal kingpins to catch, kidnapped people to save, fights between opposing factions to break up, and that was only in the Mundane World.
Yes, Shirou now saw that his insistence to not get involved with the Moonlit World for the coming years was contrary to his dream to save all. There were so many people to save and true monsters to battle in that facet in the world, and he, Emiya Shirou, could not stand idly by while people needed his help. He'd had a reason to not get involved before Mjolnir, which was that he hadn't been strong enough, but he didn't have that excuse anymore.
He would get stronger and master the abilities he had gotten from Mjolnir and unlock new ones. Before Mjolnir had arrived, he had been training himself to the absolute maximum with the little amount of talent he had. There was no reason to stop doing so now that he had more power than he ever could have dreamed.
He knew it would be a while before he was mighty enough to truly make a difference, to successfully save all people, but that didn't matter at this moment. Even if he could only save one person for now, that would be worth it, and a step towards saving all.
No more excuses, it was time to go forth and accept the responsibility that came with the power.
It was his duty to save people. He had to do so. He, Emiya Shirou, who had been saved where everyone else died a horrible death, now had a responsibility to return the favour to all.
He'd had no right to live on, it was only sheer coincidence that had led Kiritsugu to him. There was no reason why it had been him that survived, so now he had to make a reason. He needed to live a life that was as worthy as it could possibly be.
And with that in mind, Shirou realised what the answer to his main question was. The fragments of memory had already given him a good idea, and the amused hum of the hammer confirmed it once and for all.
What would Thor have thought of Shirou?
Thor would have been proud of him.
Shirou stood up again and walked to the middle of the clearing, before he rose the hand holding Mjolnir into the sky, in both a firm pledge to live up to his potential and in an attempt to unleash a technique he had seen Thor use in the memories, the last thing he would try today.
He channelled the mysterious power through the hammer, calling upon it to create that which was most associated with Thor. The thing that he had been most famous and renowned for.
A thunderstorm.
Before his eyes, as he channelled more and more power, massive, dark thunderclouds gathered overhead. The wind picked up, blowing through the clearing with great force, before rain began pouring down, soaking everything in sight.
The wind began spiralling, taking the clouds with it in its path. The storm was not spread over a large area, but it was raging and powerful, the gales of wind now tearing the branches off the trees.
In the middle of it all, Shirou stood, proudly upright with Mjolnir still pointed to the sky. Then, as a coup de grace, lightning came down from the clouds, striking Mjolnir and going through it to Shirou, flooding his body with its power.
As lightning bolt after lightning bolt came down on him in a display that would have baffled even the greatest of Magi, Shirou suddenly realized one very important thing.
'...I forgot to draw the magic-suppressing Runes.'
The wind fell down immediately, the clouds dispersed, the rain ceased falling and Shirou just stood there, feeling very idiotic.
In his eagerness to begin experimenting, he had completely passed up on making sure no traces of his magic use would be apparent. He had just started experimenting right away without remembering to hide himself and his magic from anyone outside of the clearing.
Now everyone with some potential in Magecraft in the near vicinity, including Tohsaka, would have felt him doing all of this.
Shirou cheeks burned with embarrassment over this colossal mishap, but, with some luck, it wouldn't prove to be a fatal mistake just yet. There was no one around after all, and he had not used Magical Energy here today.
If he had used Magical Energy, forgetting the Runes would have been disastrous, but he hadn't. He had used the mysterious power, and from own experience, he knew that power was far enough removed from Magical Energy for there to be a rather large chance that most Magi would write it off as 'just a strange happening'.
At least, Shirou hoped they would.
Still, he would have to remember drawing the Runes next time he did something like this. Especially if he was ever going to use magic while being near civilisation.
Rubbing the back of his head, Shirou felt a small grin come to his face. Really, he had been smiling and grinning more in the past week than he'd had in years.
"Mjolnir." He began, feeling he should make this moment somewhat more memorable. "I- You- We… Thank you, thank you again for choosing me. I promise you that I will not squander the power you have given me. I will get stronger and wiser, until I can make my dream come true. I will protect all those around me, I will fight against evil, and one day…
…I will save everyone!"
With those words, a massive thunderclap filled the sky, a lightning bolt of epic proportions striking directly into Mjolnir from the highest of the heavens.
And as Shirou then took towards the sky again, a great Being, present yet not at the same time, felt pride fill its old heart.
Thor's successor was worthy.
And done.
Well then, that was hard. I wanted to introduce Shirou to Thor, so our favourite hero and third-rate Magus could see for himself what kind of god he was. It was difficult however to convey that information without showing Shirou too much. I didn't want him to know about the other universes yet, or about the numerous aliens, or the cosmic Multiversal beings that are so widespread through the Omniverse, or about Thor not being a god, but more of a highly evolved alien. So I tried to do it this way, with mainly emotions and small shards of memory being shown, but I don't know if it's any good.
Shirou has now been spurred on to undertake some real action. I wanted to make clear that it really was a change of mind for him to go from 'slight beginnings with heroics' to 'let's save all the people world-wide'. So I wrote the turning point for him and let him train with Mjolnir for a bit.
Our favourite hero won't go full Rune-King Thor anytime soon though, that would make for a boring story. So no brawls with Primate Murder or ORT the next chapter, that will occur somewhere in the future. Not sure when precisely.
I also started an arc in the beginning of the chapter, with the whole criminals smelling like magic business. That should occupy some time, allow Shirou to get some real battle experience and will show him what a monumental task it is to save everyone. Oh, and it will have a magical ending.
I hope I can have a moment soon where I make Shirou realize that bad guys are sometimes beyond saving, but as he is still a young Shirou now, he'll be trying to save those guys too. I hope to change that very fast though, in this arc if possible.
And yes, I am planning to have Shirou save Sakura before the Grail War, but it can't be now, he has to learn some cleansing magic first and get powerful enough to kill Zouken quickly, efficiently and completely.
And I have one more question. Should I include Gaia herself in this story? And if yes, how? As an antagonist? An antagonist that becomes a good girl when realizing that Shirou is now sort of her son and can help her a great deal? (remember here that the Odin Force/Shirou Force can also fix planets rather easily. Cleaning up pollution and bringing back forests and all that should be no problem for a Skyfather from Marvel.) Maybe I should make her a mother hen from the beginning?
I myself am leaning towards the second option if I have her appear at all.
Keep in mind here though that even as full-on antagonist Gaia can't do much to or against Shirou, as the Beyonder and the Living Tribunal are still keeping a close eye on things.
Ted says goodbye for now.
Edited later for better flow and choice of words.