Fate: Hammer Time

by TedTheRabbit

Shirou Emiya wanted to become a hero. That was clear to all who truly know him. For a long time though, he lacked the power to actually achieve that goal. No longer. No longer will he lack the power, now that the Hammer of the Odinson has chosen him as new wielder. Prepare for Thunder. ShirouxMultiple, Thor-Shirou.

13. Surprise From the Other Side

Surprise From the Other Side

---

It was a beautiful day in Fuyuki-City. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, there was no wind to speak of, and the general mood of the city was excellent. There was nothing to prevent the citizens from enjoying the day to its fullest extent.

Not everyone liked to come outside though, even during a day as close to perfect as this one. Some people just preferred to stay inside, hiding away from the sun, hiding from other people, or hiding from enemies real and imagined, while guarding their house against thieves that could be out to steal their precious belongings and grandchildren from them.

A very good, and perhaps the only example of the latter category in the entire city was one Matou Zouken, patriarch of the Matou-family and someone who could definitely be described as a hermit, who hadn't left his house for decades, except for a few rare occasions, mostly during the infamous Grail Wars.

He was far too afraid of other Magi attacking him, or sneaking behind his back into his house, claiming his tomes, his research, or worse, the tool he had betted the entire future of his family on.

He was aware, in a deep, dark, logical corner of his mind that was long since buried under paranoia and madness, that the chance of such a thing happening was extremely low, especially during a peaceful time in-between Wars. The Bounded Fields and his other 'defences' would see to the safety of his house and belongings, while he himself was no slouch in combat either, despite his frail appearance.

But what did that rational knowledge matter when he had over two hundred years of experience and building paranoia to counteract that last vestige of reason and logic? No, he well and truly preferred staying inside, where he was at his strongest.

Zouken Matou was quite a pathetic existence. As a writhing mass of worms inhabiting a random corpse, he certainly wasn't anything pleasant to look at or be around, and his general behaviour wasn't much better.

His entire life revolved around his perverted and distorted dream of becoming immortal, a dream he relentlessly pursued both outside and during the Grail Wars, uncaring about who or what he had to sacrifice in order to reach it.

But his options had become limited over the years, one chance after the other slipping through his fingers, and by now, he had only one real possibility left, which was why he was here, the place where he pretty much spent all of his time these days, patiently waiting for his granddaughter to arrive.

The age-old Magus looked out over his wormpit with a thoughtful gaze in his eyes, aware of but barely noticing his familiars anymore, as they crawled around in there, with seemingly random patterns, as they waited for the girl that would join them in there nearly every day.

His granddaughter was set to arrive in about half-an-hour, as per his orders, as she had returned only a short while ago from what could almost be considered her second home by now. Being alone with his thoughts, Zouken's mind started to wander to the past few months.

He had lived in Fuyuki for most of his natural and unnatural life, and, short of during the Grail Wars, he had never had so many unexpected things happen around him as during the last few months.

The first, perhaps minor occurrence was the sudden thunderstorm of epic proportions from several weeks ago. Not only had it been one of the worst storms of his life, but it had also been the first event ever that had managed to temporarily cut his connection to his very own worms, nearly all of them, with only the ones making up his body remaining somewhat under his control.

It had been very unpleasant, but he could have handled it had it been a one-time occurrence. To his great consternation however, it had only been the first of an ever-increasing number of storms doing the same.

Zouken had not been idle after that first occurrence of course. He had attempted to strengthen his bond with his familiars in various ways, and he had tried several methods of protecting them better. All futile in the end.

Eventually realising there was nothing he could do and that he was wasting precious time and energy trying, Zouken had resigned himself to accepting the weird moments of loss of control, though he would keep an eye out for solutions regardless.

The next strange matter was less relevant to him, but still quite noteworthy, if only because of its strong connection to his valuable tool, his dearest granddaughter.

That matter was Emiya Shirou, the son of the late Magus Killer, easily one of the best assassins and mercenaries of recent times. The boy had been spurred into action by something, mere weeks or maybe even mere days after that first particular thunderstorm had passed over the city.

Where the boy had been largely passive in his actions before, either training with his father or by himself after the man's passing, he had suddenly started spending night after night hunting down the criminal elements of the city, with great success at that, not stopping until all the gangs and organised crime had been taken down and arrested.

Being well-informed, Zouken had known all about the boy's dream, foolish and stolen as it was. The boy certainly made no secret of it after all, happily telling all and sunder about it when asked.

The old Magus had to admit it was an ambitious goal indeed, perhaps even an insane one, but that was to be expected. If one survived the Cursed Fire caused by the Grail's destruction, as well as a subsequent adoption by a crazy, highly skilled assassin, then the chances of retaining an intact mind afterwards were very low indeed.

So it hadn't been all that strange that the boy would do something like crime-fighting, it even fitted him quite well. The real clinch was the timing of it all.

Zouken had expected that it would take years before the teen would be ready to tentatively take his first real steps in fulfilling his dream, but that had turned out to be hilariously inaccurate. Not only had he started several years earlier than what Zouken had expected, but he had also effectively cleaned up the city in the span of weeks, showing himself to be far more capable than Zouken had estimated.

Add to that the sudden increase in the potency and complexity of the boy's Bounded Fields and Wards, and Zouken was really starting to wonder if he had perhaps missed something about the child for all those years.

It was only the fact that his own knowledge about Bounded Fields, carefully hoarded over his many years of life, still overshadowed the boy's knowledge that had allowed him to just barely find out about said increase in potency and complexity without the boy noticing his prodding. And even then, the old man wasn't entirely sure the teen hadn't perhaps noticed someone checking out his Bounded Fields after all.

Either way, it had been a large oversight of him to almost completely miss such a development taking place in his city, one that could have cost him dearly should he ever decide to take on the boy for whatever reason.

Especially since his own Magecraft was getting weaker.

Zouken could no longer deny it. Spells that were once as easy as breathing to him were becoming harder and harder as time progressed. Even just drawing Mana out of the air was becoming more difficult for him, and as a result, he had been forced to gradually shift towards relying on his worms to provide his Prana for him, through either his magnificently powerful granddaughter, or through certain other sources.

That weakening, along with his waning control over his familiars and his sudden oversights in matters that such have been clear-cut and obvious, painted a grim picture for him. A picture he had tried to avoid for years but couldn't escape from anymore:

He was getting old!

It was entirely possible that the next Grail War would be his last, and with the track record he had so far, he would die as nothing but a failure.

When he had been developing the Grail all those years back, alongside Tohsaka Nagato, Zelretch himself, and… Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern, he had never expected that he would stand here now, four Wars later, with nothing to show for it.

He had outlived his two associates by centuries, Zelretch had not shown himself to Zouken since the Grail had been completed, and every attempt to get the blasted thing in his possession had ended in complete and utter failure.

The Fourth War had objectively been the worst of the lot, though Zouken had to admit he had still derived a great deal of amusement from it. Seeing that fool of a Kariya running around the city with that lumbering giant of his, thinking he could actually defy Zouken, was good for a laugh at least.

It had been completely worth it to sit that one out.

He hadn't remained idle during the Fourth War of course, far from it. Not only had he obtained a new heir to his family line, but he had also picked up several shards of the manifested Grail after that Saber-girl had been forced to destroy it. He could confidently say that while the Fourth War might have been the most destructive of them all, to him, it had also been the most productive.

He had been riding high in the following years, filled with actual hope of obtaining the Grail, even thinking himself unstoppable at times, which, looking back, might not have been the smartest thing to do, considering that both the Priest and the then-still-living Magus Killer would have been glad with any opportunity to end him.

Now though, it all came crashing down, with the World sternly reminding him he could not prolong his life forever, that soul deterioration was still a thing. Joining the next War was probably still doable, but the one after, he would not see for himself.

Already, he was forced to hunt for new bodies to use as sustenance far more frequently than ever before. It had once amused him, the hunt, the consumption, coming up with new stories to tell the police, everything about it.

It didn't amuse him anymore. The hunt had stopped thrilling him years ago, and these days, he just heaped all his victims unto the list of drownings, to the point where more than half of the people on that drowning-list were actually his victims.

His one ray of hope though was his granddaughter. Not only was she a nigh-perfect vessel for his worms, but her body had also accepted the shards of the Grail that he had put into her, thus turning the girl into a potential Lesser Grail.

Well, he said 'accepted', but the shards had only been able to merge with about half of her Circuits so far, as her soul turned out to be surprisingly resilient against them, turning a procedure that should have taken hours at most into an affair spanning years.

That was actually a rather accurate description of his granddaughter as a whole; surprisingly resilient.

When she had fallen silent after three days of screaming, back when he had first locked her away in the pit, he had assumed her as good as broken. He had learned immediately after though that he'd been utterly wrong believing that. His granddaughter was not so easily subdued and had retreated behind the iron walls of her mind, far out of his reach.

She had been unbroken, and so far, she'd remained unbroken.

It became even worse for him after she had befriended the Emiya.

It had been very sudden, completely out of nowhere, that Sakura had returned home one day from her daily shopping trip with the boy walking next to her.

She had not taken the boy inside with her, fortunately, and had been rather rude, but that hadn't stopped her from building a solid friendship with him over the months that followed, a friendship that quickly blossomed into something more.

Zouken had initially hoped he could use the connection they had built to his own benefit, to weaken her resolve, but ultimately, it turned out that it only seemed to bolster her confidence.

He had not given up on the idea however. When Sakura had also connected with that tomboy at the school he had been forced to send her to in order to keep the authorities off his back, he had tried to use that connection as well in order to slip his way into Sakura's mind.

But no, it turned out having those two 'friends' in her life had actually managed to strengthen her mind, somehow.

He had toyed with the idea of disposing of those two meddlers when it turned out they were working against him and his purposes, but he had eventually stayed his hand. The Emiya had shown himself too competent to be killed easily, and the tomboy's death would surely attract the boy's attention to him.

It wasn't that Zouken feared the boy or anything, but he knew that Kotomine was only waiting for an excuse to kill him, and Zouken did not want to deal with that, at least not until he had a Servant at his back.

A door opening at the top of the stairs roused him from his thoughts and drew his gaze towards his granddaughter, who was now walking down the stairs with an emotionless expression.

Undoubtedly, she was thinking some very bad things about him now behind that neutral facade. She probably believed him to be a monster, who was tormenting her for his own amusement.

That wasn't correct though, at least not entirely. Zouken freely admitted he was a monster, but he wasn't torturing her out of nothing but cruelty. In fact, he too would have preferred it if she could have lived a normal life. If he'd had any choice at all, he never would have put her through this.

Not that his motivations mattered in the end, either to him or to Sakura. Whether it was out of sadism or because he had no other choice, his granddaughter had to be broken, making him the villain and her the imprisoned princess.

In a few practiced movements, Sakura took off her clothes, revealing the beauty underneath.

Zouken had initially feared, back when she and the boy had first begun interacting, that the boy was after the Matou family-Craft, or at least after his granddaughter as a female, but to his surprise, neither had been true. Sakura had no idea that the boy was a Magus, and the utterly clueless boy didn't know just how much his granddaughter was infatuated with him.

It honestly baffled Zouken. He himself might not desire any kind of female touch or companionship anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't see that his granddaughter was quite the ideal wife. Any normal, hot-blooded male would have taken her to bed before they turned thirteen.

He wouldn't have been at all opposed to the Emiya-boy bedding his granddaughter. The boy would provide far more Prana than his worthless 'grandson' ever could.

That was a noticeable and rather glaring downside to his family-Craft of using Crest Worms as familiars. The fact that the hosts needed enormous amount of Prana to survive and thus were always forced to find outside sources if they wanted to live one more day.

It hadn't been much of a problem to Zouken though, who had finally seen a use for his worthless grandson after all these years. Even though the boy couldn't perform Magecraft himself, he still had some power to spare for others, which he had promptly been ordered to do with Sakura.

Frankly, Zouken had thought that the disappointment would have jumped at a chance to express his anger and desperation, but once more, the boy had disappointed him. He had refused, and Zouken had to threaten to throw both him and Sakura into the pit to get him to budge.

The disappointment had even spent time in the library to search for different ways of Prana-transferal, he disliked it that much apparently.

There really weren't any other ways he could use to transfer power, but Zouken had let him search for himself without bothering to inform him of the futility of his actions. He had no more words to waste on that failure.

Emiya on the other hand…

It was perhaps a bit strange, but Zouken had found himself genuinely considering the boy as a possible suitor for his granddaughter. He was powerful, proficient in Magecraft, and sensitive enough to Mystery to realise that Zouken was not natural, something the Tohsakas had failed to realise for decades. Furthermore, his blood was strong, and the children he would have with Sakura were almost guaranteed to be Magi.

Yes, if he hadn't been planning on sacrificing the girl during the next Grail War, he would have already approached the boy with a marriage proposal, though he would have settled for Sakura becoming a mistress of his as well.

It would have made Sakura happy too, Zouken knew, as he glanced with slight pity at the female that was now laying herself down in the pit. Her infatuation was so clear to everyone but the boy. Marrying him, or becoming his mistress, would have made her happier than anything else in the world.

It was impossible though. The boy would never agree with sacrificing Sakura, he wouldn't even agree with what Zouken was doing now, and that ultimately made him unsuited. It was a nice fantasy, but that was all that it was.

A single thought then sent the Worms crawling towards Sakura. It was very noticeable though that they moved with much more sluggishness and… reluctance almost, than they had only a year before.

He really was getting old, and his worms knew it too.

---

The water was cold. Yes, cold and dark, precisely how it preferred the water it lived in to be. The lake it was residing in was deep and wide, giving it plenty of space to move around.

The position of the lake was quite high up in the mountains, assuring lower temperatures and plenty of rain during the entire year, which were even more factors that were beneficial to it. If it had to make a list of its previous homes from best to worst, this lake would easily be best.

Then again, it had only ever had one home before this one, so it was not all that impressive.

The most important reason it had chosen this lake to live in however, above all other options, was food.

An excellent source of sustenance was located so incredibly close to the lake that it could pull its victims towards it in no time at all. It was a simple matter of taking hold of a mind, showing it what it really wanted to see, and then leading the meat towards the deep waters, where the victim would drown.

It was easy hunting, and it had never been as full as it had been during the months it had lived in this lake. It had hunted numerous times, and it hadn't failed to catch a prey even a single time.

With one exception.

Its most recent hunt had been foiled by outside hands, by something that had thwarted the prey from reaching the lake. Since then, it had been preparing for battle, for it could not let such a challenge pass by unanswered.

If one would look upon it, one would almost think themselves in a nightmare, faced with an abomination that couldn't not possibly exist in a merciful world.

The first thing one would inevitably notice was the eerily human-like head it possessed, which actually made up its entire body, complete with two eyes, a nose, a sharp jawline, a strong chin, and long flowing hair of a drab grey colour.

It could almost have been called handsome, if it hadn't been for some… minor problems; For instance, the head was completely blue, a dark blue that disappeared extremely well in deep water. It was also bigger than a van, much bigger, with a mouth large enough to swallow a man whole, filled with razor-sharp teeth that seemed rotten and black. The last, perhaps most disturbing detail was that the face looked like it had been left to rot and wither for quite some time.

From the base of the neck and the back of the head, countless tentacles, coloured a slightly deeper blue than the head itself, sprang forth, endlessly writing and grasping, yet at the moment working hard at propelling the monster towards where it wanted to be.

The monster was known as a Nokken. An ancient race of Phantasmal Beasts inhabiting lakes and pools, infamous for luring unsuspecting humans towards the water, before drowning and devouring them.

This particular beast was still very young for its kind, around a hundred years old, which was what had allowed it to continue to exist in the World of Mankind as opposed to being sent to the Reverse Side of the World, where most of the rest of its kind wandered.

The Nokken had still been forced to spent nearly all of its time sleeping though, making sure to not disturb the World around it too much, lest it be sent away. It did not fancy being banished to the Reverse Side just yet.

It had only ever woken up to feed itself, to draw in the little monkeys, and consume them as they inevitably fell to its lure.

The Nokken had lived that way for most of its existence, living in a muddy, polluted, and warm lake in a Mana-starved place that caused it no shortage of headaches and pains.

Life hadn't been ideal in that little pool, far from it, but it had been enough for the Nokken to survive, if barely, while sleeping its life away in order to stay in the World of Mankind. It was the only life it had ever known.

But then, some time ago, the Beast had suddenly felt something new appear in the world. Something glorious and delicious, something that spoke of ancient times beyond mortal memory, a relic from a Past Age that had suddenly risen again.

Something from the Age of the Gods had returned. Something that existed without fear of being banished to the Reverse Side.

It had drawn the Nokken in like a moth to a flame. The Beast had abandoned the pool it had lived in for its entire life without a second thought, unable to resist the lure of a power than might allow it to live in the World of Mankind without having to fear her.

Using the underground waterways that only the Phantasmal Beasts of the Waters were aware of, it had arrived near the place where the sensation originated from. Choosing to recuperate from the journey before facing the origin of the sensation, the Nokken had taken residence in the perfect lake that it was now still inhabiting to this very day. There, it had rested and eaten, regaining its strength for the inevitable confrontation.

But then, all of sudden, the source had arrived at the lake by itself, and the Nokken had realised their battle would take place earlier than it had intended.

Before the battle began though, the Nokken had chosen to observe its enemy. As it observed however, it got confused. The source was acting strangely. They walked among the monkeys as if they were one of them, never once showing their dominance and power and never once claiming the possessions or the lives of the monkeys as their own.

The Nokken didn't know why exactly, but it felt as if the source should in fact be doing those things whenever it walked the World, as if that was what its kind did. The fact that it didn't belied either weakness or ignorance according to the Nokken's instincts.

Which the Phantasmal Beast didn't mind at all. It was planning on consuming the source after all.

Still, the Nokken had decided to be patient. There was no reason to hurry, and it had plenty of time to study the source some more. It was a patient creature after all.

But then the source had prevented the Nokken from feeding. It had prevented its prey from reaching the lakeshore, and had then brutally attacked the water with wind, plainly declaring its intention to slay the Nokken should the two ever encounter each other.

It was a challenge the Nokken would gladly answer.

It was a hunter after all, a Beast created to be the perfect predator. Its teeth were sharp and long; it could control minds and show its prey the specific images that would erode their resolve; Its tentacles, its numerous writhing tentacles, were big and strong, with razor-sharp tips and enough Mystery to injure rival-Nokken and other Phantasmal Beasts with ease.

The Nokken would kill and consume the source, and by doing so, would anchor itself to the World. It would never have to fear banishment to the Reverse Side ever again.

Reaching the shore, the beast stopped propelling itself instantly, relaxing its tentacles and letting itself be taken further ashore by its momentum, where it laid perfectly still, trusting its blue colour to keep it hidden from sight. There it waited, patiently, hungrily.

Time to do battle. Time to eat.

---

When he had first seen the mercenary that was supposed to bring the Tohsaka-girl to him, Richard Burgon had not bothered to stop the smile that wanted to form on his face.

Burgon had discovered at an early age that people instinctively trusted a smiling person more than a dour one, and he had always done his best to make use of that fact. By now, smiling at people was almost second nature to him.

It had to be a sincere smile of course, even the dullest of idiots could tell a fake smile from a real one, but simply thinking of something amusing got a sincere smile on your face easily enough. Burgon should know, that was how he made most of his friends after all.

Now to see if this mercenary would be a friend as well.

"Welcome, mercenary, to our home." He proclaimed loudly, throwing his arms wide open as if to embrace the other man. "I tremendously appreciate your swift response to our invitation. With a man of your skill and renown at our side, we are sure to succeed in no time at all."

As if. Burgon was well aware that the only reason the man was here was because he was rather unknown and fairly low on the list of good mercenaries. Hiring a better one might have attracted too much attention after all.

Still, the man was good enough for the job. It wasn't as if kidnapping a little girl far away from home was difficult after all.

"You are of course aware of your mission." Burgon went on, placing his hand on the mercenary's shoulder in a fatherly way. "You will bring us the Tohsaka, and-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, old man." The mercenary scoffed, throwing off Burgon's hand and taking a step back. "I am to wait until the Tohsaka-girl gets to that city, Hiko-something-or-the-like, before abducting her from her hotel and bringing her to you lot. Fine."

The man was correct in his summary, though the elderly Magus wished he could have been more polite. They were all British here after all, even the mercenary himself. Politeness, even if obviously faked, was supposed to be in their blood.

Then again, there probably was a reason that the mercenary had made himself an enemy of several noble houses of the Clocktower. Those stuffy gits had terribly long toes, and a tendency to remember grudges for a very long time. It wasn't a good place to be rude.

"Still though," The mercenary grumbled. "The guy who contacted me said you have been chasing this girl for months. Why haven't you been able to grab her by now? Or at least hired a merc sooner?"

"We tried." Burgon responded ruefully. "But she kept slipping through our various nets because of continuous outside interference. It would seem that someone else keeps tripping the traps we had set out for her."

The criminals they had sent to her city being felled by a mysterious vigilante was one thing, but that the familiars they sent to Fuyuki-City were now also being destroyed indicated quite clearly something in that city did not want them there.

They didn't know who it was or why they interfered. The only thing they were reasonably sure of was that they didn't do it to help Tohsaka, or they would have informed the girl by now.

"Outside interference?" The mercenary asked, tensing up slightly. "You didn't mention anything like that in your request. What are you up to, old man?"

"We weren't sure back yet when we contacted you." Burgon immediately countered. "And we are quite certain that whatever or whoever is interfering won't do so in Hikone."

The mercenary was silent for a few moments, glaring hard at Burgon, no doubt in an attempt to be intimidating. All it did however was show just how underwhelming he really was.

Richard Burgon had once had the supreme displeasure of meeting Emiya Kiritsugu, back before Burgon had obtained a Sealing Designation. He remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. The man had looked at him with an impassive gaze, just in passing, not saying a word or really paying all that much attention to Burgon, but Burgon had been quaking and shaking in his boots all the same, feeling as if Death itself had walked past him.

Compared to even just a casual look from that man, the most intimidating stare of the mercenary in front of him was no more frightening than a pouting toddler.

Burgon made sure to smile extra brightly in return, choosing not to comment on the poor attempt at intimidation.

Eventually, the mercenary let up on his glare, and a note of respect appeared in his eyes instead. Respect that was further shown by the hand that was now offered for a shake.

"James Brunevis." The mercenary, James, said gruffly after Burgon had shook the offered hand. "Seems like working for you might just be interesting after all. I'll get the girl for you or die in the attempt. This, I swear."

Feeling surprised at the man's sudden oath and dedication, but refusing to let that surprise show, Burgon smiled happily, not even having to fake it.

"Much appreciated." He said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small ruby. He had been planning on giving it to the mercenary anyway, so now was as good as ever. "You wanted to be paid in gemstones, so here is a small initial payment. Do take care when handling it, some of my Prana might be left in it."

Some of his Prana certainly was left in it. There was a tracking spell on it after all, just as a little bit of insurance. Trust was good, but only when given sparingly.

Burgon did not doubt the man would check the gem for precisely such spells, but he was confident the spell was hidden well enough.

With a nod, the mercenary accepted the gem, put it inside one of the pockets on his coat, and left without a word. Most likely, he'd make his way to the nearby town, Hiraizumi, on foot, before acquiring a different method of transportation to Hikone.

He would probably spend his time preparing for the mission once there. If everything went well, the mission itself should only take a few minutes to complete, getting into the hotel, taking the Tohsaka and then getting out again, but there was a lot that could go wrong during those few minutes.

At least, that was what Burgon thought, but since he wasn't a mercenary –perish the thought– it was just an assumption on his part. Maybe it would in fact be hilariously easy for any trained professional.

Putting the whole matter out of his mind with a mental shrug, the old man turned around, his thoughts already back at the experimentation table.

Walking back towards the large castle, Burgon had no chance of seeing the sinister grin suddenly appear on Brunevis' face, and neither had he a chance of hearing the muttered 'gullible old man' coming from the mercenary's mouth.

---

Sitting on a rooftop at the edge of Iwakuni, Shirou looked out over the lake, searching for any disturbances that might indicate something was amiss.

He had been doing that for several days now, but he wasn't any closer to finding the thing that lived in there than he had been at the very beginning. It had been a lot of wasted time, with the only consolation being that no more people had been taken since he started his vigil.

By now though, he was almost hoping an entranced person would come by on their way to the lake. He would put a stop to it at once of course, but it would at least provide him with another chance to find the thing that was responsible for all of this.

It would be a lot better than sitting around all night, alone with his thoughts.

At least it gave him some time to think, and considering all that had happened recently, he had a lot to think about.

The biggest thing that had happened was of course that the police had acknowledged his existence. They acknowledged his existence and had even given him a name; Rakurai, meaning 'Lightning Strike'.

It was quite ironic really, that Shirou would get that name. It wasn't a bad name though, and he would definitely use it in the future.

As for the impact that the reveal had made on the general public, well…

They saw him as entertainment. A source of amusement. The news and the papers were abuzz with articles and columns about him, and most people seemed to be having a great time discussing him.

It was embarrassing really.

Another thing Shirou had spent a lot of time thinking about was the swimming lessons, and then particularly about Sakura and Tohsaka.

Sakura was progressing extremely fast, at an almost unreal pace even. She'd turned out to be a natural, and she was clearly having the time of her life.

On the other side, Tohsaka had great difficulty with getting her skills up to par. She was just objectively terrible at swimming. It was as if all the extra talent Sakura possessed had been taken from Tohsaka.

Despite her lack of talent though, Tohsaka still managed to keep up through sheer effort and dedication. It was very impressive to see how hard she worked to get just that little edge that she needed to complete the exercises.

Shirou knew that Tohsaka was a very dedicated Magus of course, and by nature, Magi weren't people who would give up easily, but the tenacity Tohsaka showed during the course went even beyond the stubbornness of a normal Magus.

Furthermore, Tohsaka had warmed up to everyone in the group overtime, except for Sakura, who she seemed to avoid and was avoided by in turn. Everyone else, Shirou included, was treated with nothing but the utmost respect and even some warmth at times.

Shirou had found he had to seriously revise his opinion of her over the course of the lessons. She wasn't a lying, murderous, manipulative Magus, but more of an aloof but sincere teenage girl trying to find her own place in the world.

Ayako had seen it too, commenting to him that 'Tohsaka might act all tough and uncaring, but she's quite a softie underneath all that'.

Shirou could see what the brunette meant. Tohsaka's smiles were less fake than he had expected, the praise she gave was true and well-meant, and she was, to some level, actually enjoying having them around, him and Ayako in particular.

If this continued, he might one day work up the courage to tell her about him being a Magus. 'A close relationship is based on trust', as his father used to say, usually with a melancholic expression on his face.

Who knew, maybe she'd let him live after his confession? Maybe she'd not immediately alert the Clocktower of his existence? And maybe she would even let his obviously divine properties slide as well, without trying to strap him to a table for vivisection?

Maybe… Hopefully… Probably not… Yeah, he couldn't even convince himself. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman told about hidden secrets', was one more thing his father had told him during training.

On that note, if he was contemplating on telling Tohsaka about himself one day, shouldn't he do the same for Sakura? She had been his friend for years and was in fact far less likely to reveal his existence or his secrets to anyone, or to strap him to a table.

'That would mean dragging her into the life of a Magus', he reminded himself sternly, just as he did every time he contemplated on telling Sakura the truth of who and what he was. Knowingly associating yourself with a Magus was dangerous, and with him, it was even worse than usual. Sakura really had to be kept out of it, for her own safety.

In all honesty though, he was also nervous about how Sakura would react. Would she forgive him for lying to her for all these years? Would she be angry with him? Would she fear him?

He didn't know for sure, and he didn't particularly care for finding out.

Shirou let out a sigh as he looked out over Iwakuni again, a soft smile on his face, his mind filled with images of pretty girls with purple hair and purple eyes, before he froze as his eyes fell on a strange sight.

A teenage girl, clearly no older than fifteen, was walking towards the lake on her own, in the middle of the night and clad in nothing but her sleeping wear.

Exactly the kind of thing he'd been waiting for.

"Trace on." Shirou muttered, Reinforcing himself, before jumping off the rooftop. It took him a few seconds to catch up, and with a low sweep with his leg he brought the teen down.

Shirou then placed his hand on the girl's forehead and channelled the Mysterious Power, removing the Spell she was under and adding his own compulsion to the girl's mind to hurry home before the sun would rise.

When he was done, Shirou let the teen go and took a few seconds to watch her leave, ensuring that she was indeed going back into town and not towards the lake again, before turning around, summoning Mjolnir, and flying towards the lake himself.

He landed at the small beach only a minute later, and though he couldn't see anything strange right away, he kept his Magic Circuits and the Mysterious Power ready, with Mjolnir in combat position, for he knew that the creature was present.

Shirou might not be able to see it, but it had completely neglected to mask its smell or to prevent Shirou from feeling its burning gaze focused right on him, or even to hide the unnatural ripples in the water it was causing.

Now to track it down-

'SPLASH'.

A sudden splash to his left drew Shirou's attention away, as he tried to find the source of the sound, his body tensing up even further.

It was barely a second later that he realised the splash had been nothing but a distraction, and that he had fallen for it like an idiot.

Shirou threw himself to the side with as much speed as he could squeeze out of his still Reinforced body, hoping he had been fast enough.

In the end, he was. But only just.

---

The Nokken stretched out its vile influence over the town, looking for a tender and juicy victim.

Should it choose the young female stumbling home after a party? Should it choose the old man wandering around? Perhaps something could be said for the little boy that slept in a separate room from its parents?

Eventually, its eyes fell on a young female, walking over the street in a daze after having lost its… grandfather? Yes, its mind clearly said the young human had lost its 'grandfather' recently and was sad about it.

Perfect, a prey with a clear weakness to exploit.

The Nokken began its hunt by taking hold of the girl's mind ever so gently, just enough to send a few images to remind the girl extra strongly of her grandfather.

Then, the Beast continued spinning its webs, strengthening its hold over the human's mind by making it hallucinate about the grandfather, which brought down its mental defences.

It was almost similar to a Magus' hypnosis, if more bestial and brutish.

In truth, the Nokken could also take control over its victim's mind without using hallucinations, but its species had found that entrancing humans first made them easier to control, less likely to resist the foreign influence.

The girl had been ensnared beyond escape now. The Nokken's influence had run deep into her mind and the teen had long since surrendered to the images.

The Nokken watched with an emotion akin to glee as the human started walking towards its waiting maw, its stomach rumbling in anticipation.

But then the Nokken's connection to its prey was harshly snapped, the feedback actually giving it a headache. Rather than being enraged however, the Beast felt nothing but anticipation.

The Source had returned, and it was coming towards the lake again.

This time however, it would not leave.

As the source landed beside the lake, the Nokken remained very still, having locked its eyes onto its prey, preparing its attack. Slowly, very slowly, it started branching out its tentacles, elongating them by growing them from its neck, until they were able to reach all the way to the shore.

A swift thrust with three tentacles, straight through the torso, should be enough to finish the human. The Nokken's blackened teeth were displayed clearly as the mouth pulled itself into a grin at the prospect.

Ever so slowly, the tentacles slid over the lake bed, passing into shallow waters, inches away from emerging above the surface.

Now it just had to wait for the correct moment, when the prey would turn its attention elsewhere. Then the beast would be free to strike with all of its not-inconsiderable might.

With that in mind, it lied still, and waited…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

… How long was that going to take exactly?

The prey continued watching over the lake, its gaze seemingly locked onto the Nokken, despite the Beast knowing that the prey could not see it.

Aware that it could not lightly risk an attack, the Nokken moved another tentacle to the bottom of the lake and picked up a nice big rock. Bringing the tentacle to the surface, the Nokken silently threw the rock a distance away.

It created a loud splash, and the prey's sight turned away, attracted to the sudden noise and movement.

NOW!

The Nokken trust six tentacles forward, hoping for a quick kill.

It almost seemed to happen in slow-motion. The tentacles came closer and closer to the distracted target, while it didn't make a single move to dodge the incoming attack, its attention still on the ripples caused by the rock.

When the tentacles came within arm-reach of the prey, the Beast knew that it had won the battle.

The slimy limbs moved with purpose…

And hit absolutely nothing.

The Nokken had only half a second to wonder about the sudden disappearance of the human, when an incredible pain suddenly shot through its outstretched tentacles.

The Phantasmal Beast couldn't suppress a wail of agony as it realised its tentacles had been reduced to chunks of minced meat, the remaining stumps bleeding black blood.

Biting through the anguish, the Nokken once more got its prey in its sight. The human had crouched slightly, one hand held up in a defensive position, the other hand holding a- a- a…

A- a- a- a- a…

A...

…

'WRONG!'

The Nokken's instincts cried out as it beheld the thing in the prey's grasp. Shivers started wracking the Beast's entire body, as terror, the likes of which it had never felt before, started overtaking its mind.

'Wrong!Wrong!WRONG!DANGER!PAIN!&F0R31GN!'

That thing was wrong! That thing didn't belong here! It was…

Then just as suddenly as its instincts had started blaring at the utter wrongness of the thing, they calmed down again, the Nokken's headache and panic disappearing instantly.

The only thing noticeable now was a feeling of sheepishness, a feeling coming from the Thing in the prey's grasp.

Then the prey, which seemed entirely unbothered by the monstrosity in its hand, sprang forwards to engage the Nokken, and there was no more time for thinking.

---

As he jumped towards the creature that had suddenly revealed itself, Shirou thanked Mjolnir, Thor, Kiritsugu, and everyone else who had ever taught him anything about combat from the bottom of his heart. He was even willing to throw Taiga into that mix, as well as every criminal he had fought, including the Dead Apostle. If it hadn't been for the battle-experience gained from his interactions with them, this fight would have been over before it had even begun.

Like a fool, he had allowed himself to be distracted by a child's trick. A thrown rock. He should be ashamed of himself.

Fortunately, he'd sensed the approaching tentacles before they had been able to hit him. With only a fraction of a second to spare, he had dodged, before lashing out with Mjolnir towards the threat. He held nothing back, knowing that he couldn't afford to do so against this kind of opponent.

It was a creature shaped like a human head, with countless tentacles as limbs, a maw that looked like a rotting pit, and eyes that held nothing but malice.

Shirou had never seen a being like that before, in real life or in books, but its intense aura and unnatural appearance made it crystal-clear what this was.

This was a Phantasmal Beast. A creature from the distant past. A monstrosity from when the Gods had still ruled the world.

That was bad. Shirou had precisely zero experience with Phantasmal Beasts, and neither had he bothered to learn much about them. They were supposed to have been locked in the Reverse Side of the World, not inhabiting lakes in Japan.

All he knew was they were incredibly strong and that they were far more resilient and powerful than humans. Many Phantasmal Beasts also had extra attributes, such as poisonous breath, skin that could not be penetrated by man-made weapons, or nigh-limitless regeneration. Many even had the ability to cast spells of their own.

Defeating this creature would be difficult, very difficult, but Shirou at least had the reassurance that he could hurt the Beast. It might only be because of Mjolnir, but Shirou would take what he could get at this point.

Not about to wait for another strike from the creature, he went on the attack. Reinforcing his entire body to the uppermost limit, he struck several tentacles that had been writhing just above the lake's surface in a single swing with Mjolnir.

The blow landed successfully, and four more tentacles were reduced to gore and black blood.

The monster retaliated immediately, lashing out at Shirou, forcing him to jump back onto the shore to dodge. He wasn't willing to test his durability against those tentacles. They gave him a bad feeling.

Shirou threw Mjolnir at the creature, which managed to dodge the hammer by diving under water, though not without having a part of the top of its head blown off, eliciting another ear-piercing screech.

Once underwater, it was not surfacing again. It would probably try to attack from there, safely out of Shirou's reach.

As if to prove him right, about a dozen more tentacles sprung from the water, coming straight for Shirou.

He dodged with a quick roll to the side, before he caught a returning Mjolnir and responded with a bolt of lightning, destroying another five limbs.

Not giving it time to recuperate, Shirou rushed to the shore, stopping just before he reached the water, before drawing 'Sowilo', the Rune of Fire, in the air in front of him.

From the Rune, a sea of flames sprang forth, aimed right at the lake, in a bid to boil the water and force the Beast to the surface. It was unlikely he'd be able to warm up the entire lake, but he should be able to heat a small area at least.

For a short while, Shirou continued casting fire at the lake, dodging frantic tentacles at the while, but eventually, he was forced to let go of the Rune, as six tentacles at once tried to spear him through the chest again and he had to throw himself to the side to avoid them.

Firing off several more lightning bolts, hitting and obliterating about a dozen more tentacles, Shirou wracked his brain for a strategy that would allow him to kill the creature.

Basically, the problem was that the creature was now inside its preferred environment and Shirou had no way of forcing it out of there. It could hide, attack, and flee at its leisure, and there wasn't much that Shirou could do about it.

If he wanted to stand a chance at killing the thing, he would have to get it up to dry land.

A sudden idea then sprang up in his mind. It was a rather dangerous idea, but it would be effective. Or at least, Shirou hoped it would be.

With a ferocious yell, and a quick mental prayer to the Soul of Thor, Shirou threw himself forward, landing waist-deep in the water, greatly surprising the Phantasmal Beast, if the useless flailing of the tentacles around him was anything to go by.

Before the creature could regain its wits and continue attacking him, Shirou tightly grabbed a tentacle, before beginning to pull the thing upwards towards the shore, throwing every bit of power he had into it, Reinforcing himself to the absolute maximum.

The Beast didn't offer any resistance to Shirou's unorthodox attack at first, allowing itself to be dragged along until the top-half of its body was exposed to the open air, which Shirou promptly fired a lightning bolt at, scorching a part of its skin and disrupting its nervous system, making it unable to properly fight back against Shirou.

It regained its wits a few seconds later, wildly trashing around, trying to dislodge Shirou from its limb, yet unable to do so as lightning kept hitting it and Shirou's strength proved greater.

If this kept up, Shirou might be able to kill this being before the night was over.

---

This wasn't going well! This wasn't going well at all! It was losing, actually well and truly losing, to a hairless monkey!

The Nokken, once so proud, confident, and strong, had regressed into a thrashing mass of limbs, desperately trying to gain back control of the situation.

It would have been ashamed of itself under any normal circumstances. It was a born predator after all, meant to stand at the top of every food chain, only surpassed by dragons and gods.

These were not normal circumstances however, and the Nokken was forgoing any shame at the moment in favour of pure, unadulterated panic.

Humans weren't supposed to produce fire! Human weren't supposed to launch the white bolts that caused pain and paralysis! Humans weren't supposed to be able to pull its body out of the water and onto the shore using brute strength alone!

It had gone wrong from the very beginning, when the prey had dodged its tentacles and then obliterated them with a single swing of the 'thing' in its hands. From there on, the human had constantly dominated the fight, keeping the Nokken completely off-balance as it destroyed more and more tentacles and even dealt great damage to the main body.

Even hiding under water had done the Nokken no good, as the human had actually started boiling the water in an effort to force the creature to the surface.

At that moment, the best option for the Nokken would have been to flee at once, but in its shock and confusion, it didn't remember fleeing was even an option.

Then, while it had been flailing around, unsure of what to do, the human had leapt forward, seized a limb, and started pulling it out of the water.

That was the position the Nokken currently found itself it. In pain, panicked, and coming ever closer to dry land, where its foe could finish it off with ease.

It should have propelled itself right the other way, towards deeper water, hopefully taking the human with it in order to drown it, but the Beast's inexperience showed itself again, as it allowed itself to be pulled ashore while it did nothing but trash around, wasting precious energy.

If this continued, the Nokken would die, that was certain.

Even the beast's telepathic abilities seemed useless. It had tried exerting its influence from the very beginning of the fight, hoping to hook some mental claws into the foe's psyche, but it didn't work at all. There was an impenetrable wall around the human's mind, impossible to break through or slip past.

With that option failing as well, the Nokken was truly at its wit's end, seeing no way out of the current situation. It seemed the creature would have to resign itself to an ignoble death.

That resignation actually forced some calm into the Beast however, as its panic abated just enough for it to start thinking somewhat clearly again.

It knew that trying to escape by physical prowess was going to be difficult, if not impossible. Fortunately, brute force was not everything that it had at its disposal. It could get much more insidious than that. Though it could not exert any direct influence on the human's mind, it could still peek inside, to search for that one image that would allow it to... soften the human's mental resistance.

Looking... Looking... Found it!

The Nokken quickly called forth the image that it had seen, and almost immediately, the Nokken could feel its enemy losing focus. The yanking on its limbs finally stopped and the white-hot bursts of energy ceased as well. The prey did not relinquish its hold on the tentacle, but its grip did ease just the tiniest bit.

Slowly, very slowly, so not to disturb the human, who was still gawking at the hallucination, the Nokken slid back into the water, keeping the image maintained as well as it could.

The Nokken then added a little extra feature to the image, a Spell that served purely to unbalance enemies. It did not understand how the Spell worked, only that it did.

As expected, the human released the Nokken immediately, the tentacle slipping from a strengthless grip, as the prey was caught in the spell.

The Nokken didn't hesitate. It immediately drew back all its tentacles in preparation for a devastating attack. It would have been wiser to flee of course, wounded as it was, but its pride had been stung, and the Nokken needed to obtain victory to salvage that pride.

The beast sent out three of its limbs once more, aimed straight for the prey's torso.

This time, it did not dodge.

The Beast's mouth pulled into a terrifying grin as the tentacles found their mark, and warm blood started flowing.

---

Shirou should have known something was wrong the moment he felt his mind being assailed by a foreign influence. It was very weak, barely more than a tap against his defences, but he should have realised then and there that the creature in front of him had mind-altering abilities.

But he hadn't been thinking clearly, all his focus being on killing the Phantasmal Beast before it could escape into deeper waters, so he was taken completely off guard by the sudden appearance of a very realistic-looking man standing a few metres away.

Shirou wanted to tell him to flee at once, but when he laid eyes on the person, those words were caught in his throat.

For before him stood someone Shirou had never expected to see again. Someone who he had dearly missed, who he wished to speak to again, yet who was not supposed to be in the land of the living.

The person he admired most.

"Hello, Shirou".

His father, Emiya Kiritsugu.

Shirou blinked, his arms slackening in surprise and Mjolnir falling to his side, his focus immediately shifting from the Beast to the ghostly apparition in front of him.

Shirou's mental defences were top-notch, but in the face of his respected and beloved father, they faltered for the shortest of moments, which was enough for the Nokken to inject its venom.

The Beast couldn't control Shirou's mind, that was impossible, but it could make him forget about certain 'inconvenient things', such as a battle with a Phantasmal Beast. His father was much more important after all.

"Dad?" Shirou asked, his voice weak from surprise. "Dad, is that really you?"

Intellectually, Shirou already knew that this was not his father. He had seen the man die after all. Nevertheless, his respect for Kiritsugu, his love for the man, as well as the Nokken's subtle influence were enough to make him overlook that.

"Dad." Shirou repeated, much stronger this time. "You are really here! H-How though? How is this possible?"

For a moment it seemed Kiritsugu would not answer, before his face contorted in rage, and he spoke, his voice hollow and accusing.

"Shirou!" He thundered, completely unlike the normally calm man. "You worthless son! You have failed me!"

Shirou recoiled, his mouth falling open in shock, but the apparition wasn't done.

"Why have you not yet saved Illya as I asked you to?! Why do you linger on common criminals while your sister is being tortured by the Einzbern?! Where have all your promises gone?! You promised to save her, didn't you? Was that a lie? Do you intend to see her among the list of people you failed?!"

"I-I am working on it." Shirou sputtered, knowing that he had good reasons for his delay, yet unable to properly explain them in the face of his father's anger. "I cannot attack the Einzbern now, it would do nothing-"

"NOTHING?!" The apparition bellowed, interrupting Shirou mid-sentence. "Are you not strong enough already, boy?! Do you not have enough power?! Have you not become a god? You should have saved her already, yet all I hear are weak excuses from a child too scared to follow his dreams!"

Shirou wanted to explain himself, he really did, but Kiritsugu didn't allow him to get a word in.

"You failed to save Illya, and you failed to save Sakura too". His father continued. "You have all the power you need, yet you let them both suffer in the claws of those who hurt them. YOU ARE NOT WORTHY!"

The last part was doubtlessly meant to completely break his confidence, but Shirou had stopped listening after Sakura had been mentioned, his attention shifting from his father to his dearest friend.

He had failed Sakura? What was that supposed to mean?

She wasn't happy with her life at home, that was obvious, but she had never given him the impression that she wanted him to get her away from there. Zouken was an unpleasant man, but he wasn't a monster as far as Shirou knew. Besides, he couldn't imagine someone would deliberately harm someone as innocent and kind as Sakura.

He turned back to his father, who was still yelling about his shortcomings, to demand an explanation, before an agonising pain suddenly bloomed in his chest and stomach.

'SCHLEK!'

With a frankly disgusting sound, three tentacles suddenly pierced his torso. One through his right-lung, another through the stomach, and the last one slightly above his left-hip.

Shirou was completely caught off guard, not understanding what had suddenly happened. He could only stare at the dark-blue limbs, blinking in detached surprise.

His understanding of the situation returned quickly however, upon seeing the now-grinning visage of the Nokken appear before him once more, while his father slowly faded from view.

Then, Shirou remembered what he'd learned from the man he'd saved a week ago.

"My wife." The older of the two spoke softly, a lone tear appearing in the corner of his eye. "I thought I saw my wife beckoning me to come with her. Even though that's impossible, since she, well, s-she, she passed away last year."

He had fallen for the same ruse, thoughtlessly taken in by an illusion, and he had paid for it by being struck a critical blow by the beast.

It had been a trick.

A trick.

His father, the man who had saved him, taken him in, given him a purpose, the one whose dream Shirou was trying to fulfil. That man just been copied, faked, besmirched, by that abominable creature.

It had preyed upon people's loss and grief, and had done the same with Shirou, callously using his feelings to gain the upper hand in their fight. It had even used his sister in the attempt, having the fake Kiritsugu say things the real one would never have said.

...How dare it?!

Anger filled Shirou's mind. Anger at the Nokken, for its sacrilege, and at himself, for falling for the trick so easily.

That anger quickly became rage, rage solely aimed at the Beast in front of him.

Shirou gritted his teeth, his fists clenching so hard he drew blood, a red haze appearing before his eyes.

Then, the Beast once more materialised the image of Kiritsugu, probably to taunt him, and Shirou snapped.

Shirou's rationality slipped away just the tiniest bit, the coherence of his thoughts lowering by the smallest of margins, the slightest bit of madness taking over his mind, ever so shortly.

While the mysterious power was normally calm and docile, it now wanted to rise to the surface, to smite whatever had roused Shirou's anger like that in an incredible display of fury worthy of the warriors of old.

Thunderclouds formed overhead, without Shirou needing to give a single sign. The wind picked up, the waves on the water increased in height, thunder rumbled at ear-piercing volume, and for a short moment, Shirou's eyes almost seemed electric blue.

All that mattered now was to kill the Beast!

Shirou grabbed the tentacle that was currently stuck in his right-lung, and pulled it towards him.

Where before the Beast had been pulled towards him meter by meter, it was now torn straight from its position to land right in front of Shirou, the massive head now easily within striking range. Shirou promptly tore the tentacle that had been stuck in his right-lung out of his body, followed by the other two, leaving gaping holes.

Immediately, Avalon and the Mysterious Power started to heal him, yet Shirou paid no attention to this, as he raised Mjolnir high above his head and called the lightning from the sky.

Lightning struck, most of it striking directly at Mjolnir, yet some hitting the Beast, making it screech in surprise and agony as it started twitching madly. Shirou didn't let up for second, and took a step forward, before bringing the hammer down with as much force and power as he could, roaring in anger as he did so.

The Nokken's head was very big, much bigger than Shirou and certainly much bigger than Mjolnir, but size didn't seem to matter in that moment, as the blow from the divine weapon, combined with a final lightning bolt, utterly obliterated the ugly creature, splattering gore, blood, and brain matter all around.

Shirou vanquished his enemy with a single blow, the ground quacking under the immense force.

The Beast was dead.

Its threat was no more.

With his enemy gone, Shirou's rage abated. He took several deep breaths, slowly regaining his senses...

...Before almost falling over in exhaustion.

Shirou was overcome by a feeling of vertigo, panting heavily as sweat dripped down his forehead. He felt drained, his energy completely spent on that one finishing blow.

Despite his exhaustion however, Shirou quickly stumbled out of the water, wary of the remains of his opponent. Many Phantasmal Species tended to have incredible regeneration-abilities and he wasn't sure being obliterated would actually stop this creature, whatever it was.

After looking at it for several minutes and seeing nothing change however, Shirou dared to relax again. It looked like he had won the fight for real.

He did have three holes in his body, but they were already significantly smaller than they had been before. It wouldn't take longer than half-an-hour before they were gone, with the Mysterious Power and Avalon working together to heal him.

That wasn't to say the wounds weren't annoying though.

The pain he could handle, but the pierced lung interfered with his breathing, and he was quite sure some stomach acid had leaked onto his intestines. Nothing Avalon and the Mysterious Power couldn't handle, but it would probably add quite some time to the recovery-process.

Knowing he shouldn't aggravate his injuries more than he already had, Shirou walked over towards the nearest bench and sat down on it.

That had been the most difficult fight of his life, without a doubt, and he was glad he had made it out alive and relatively unharmed.

There was much he could learn from it, if he took a moment to reflect, though he didn't remember much after he'd been pierced by the Beast and had become so enraged.

The most straightforward lesson though would be that he should never go into battle again without wearing his armour. His vigilante-outfit might be enough for fights with mundane criminals, but it offered next to no defence against serious blows.

The armour was much better for defence, but even the most durable armour in the world wouldn't help him if he forgot to put it on before the fight.

Other than that, well, he probably should have noticed the mental manipulation sooner, or at least not listened to the fake-Kiritsugu. He should have dismissed the image as the obvious apparition that it was and paid it no mind. The real Kiritsugu was probably shaking his head in disappointment now, wherever he was.

Still, Shirou wouldn't have been half as ensnared as he'd been if it hadn't been for the words that the fake-Kiritsugu had uttered.

Shirou didn't know how the Beast had found out about Illya and Sakura, but he eventually chalked it up to a particular ability it possessed. Nothing to worry about now that it was dead, or at least, so he hoped.

The words themselves had honestly been much more off-putting.

The apparition had been right about him being strong enough to save Illya. If he prepared himself well, with a good plan, plenty of Rune Stones, a lot of stored power, and a good breakfast beforehand, it should be well within his capabilities to go and get Illya right now.

The problem was what came after. The Einzbern wouldn't let their most valuable possession remain out of their grasp for long, and he would be the prime suspect should she ever go missing. His house would be sieged until she was back in their hands.

It was definitely a bit too early to save Illya, though he hoped he could change that soon.

Then there was Sakura, and the words the fake-Kiritsugu had spoken about her, about abuse and torture.

Shirou didn't know if the words were true or simply a deception, and if they were true, whether the Beast had seen evidence of that in his memories or if it had some kind of ability to automatically know things it needed to know.

Was Sakura being abused? Was that in any way obvious?

Ayako and Taiga hadn't mentioned anything of the sort, so it couldn't be obvious, if it was true in the first place.

On the other hand, he had to admit Zouken rubbed him completely the wrong way, and it was common knowledge that Sakura was not happy at her home.

But she always smiled so serenely. Surely, someone who smiled like that couldn't be unhappy? Besides, he couldn't fathom that Zouken would hurt his own granddaughter. What would be the use of that? Why would anyone ever want to hurt someone as sweet and kind as Sakura?

Regardless of the truth, Shirou decided to make it a point the coming weeks, or months, or even years if needed, to carefully watch over her. Being unhappy at home was one thing, but if her situation was bad enough to be compared to Illya…

But those were probably just the deceptive words of a Beast that wanted to eat him. Even if it had been correct concerning Illya, it didn't have to be when it came to Sakura, right?

The purple-haired girl played on his mind for a little while longer, her smile and gentle demeanour standing out even in Shirou's thoughts, until Mjolnir mentally nudged him, alerting him that his wounds had healed.

His jacket and shirt still had huge holes in them, but with some black thread and a bit of Alteration, that should be relatively easy to fix.

Rising from the bench, Shirou threw a look at the remains of the creature, before deciding that he should burn it all to ash. Who knows what it could do if it was allowed to fester and rot?

A quick 'Sowilo' later, Shirou was flying home, saying goodbye to Iwakuni, as it was time for him to move on to the next destination on his list.

Inuyama.

---

A tear slowly streaked over the woman's face, making its way downwards in an expression of grief, shock, and terribly conflicted nostalgia, accompanied by bittersweet memories she thought she'd buried years ago.

Standing in her small apartment in Fuyuki-City, still clad in her working clothes, Yomaura Taya had to struggle to not sink to her knees, her legs shaking as she desperately tried, and failed, to hold back her tears.

She had finally found a plausible answer to a question that had bothered her for months now, but it had turned out to be a terrible conclusion, one that would completely upend the new life she had made for herself, yet one that only seemed to grow more likely the more she tried to disprove it.

How had it ever come to this?

Back when Rakurai had first been mentioned at the precinct, back when he hadn't even had a name, she'd had no inkling that the vigilante would have such a big impact on her life. When the cases he was involved in kept piling up however, she had reluctantly accepted he would play a big role in her working life for quite a while, at least until they caught him. It wasn't even that bad. He was breaking the law, that much was true, but at least he was cool and awesome while doing so, as well as contributing to society.

She had been able to keep him out of their private life successfully, mostly because they had made it a policy that Rakurai was supposed to remain a closely guarded secret, partially to not encourage possible copy-cats and partially so they could claim his accomplishments as their own.

Then the daughters of her partner had found out about the vigilante's existence, entirely on their own. Not long after, the police had admitted his existence.

The vigilante himself had remained at large and nigh untraceable though, no matter what they did. The evidence he left was minimal, if he even left any in the first place. Their few attempts at deducing who he was through reasoning and extrapolation of data had also amounted to nothing in the end. They simply couldn't find him.

Eventually, Rakurai had moved on to other towns, further enhancing his mystery as more and more people began finding out about him and more and more questions were raised about how he did what he did.

Just like in Fuyuki-City, the vigilante had torn through the gangs and the criminals like they were dry leaves in a storm, entering hide-outs, kicking ass and taking names, and then leaving again without a trace.

Those had actually been the first clues to Yomaura that something was not as it seemed with the vigilante. No man, or even a group of men, should be able to do all of that. To travel so quickly between cities, to combat so many well-armed individuals, to somehow make things end up in their favour every time through some kind of divine interference, it hinted at something larger.

The superiors had then ordered her and her partner Osaki to investigate the cities Rakurai had visited, that being Ise and Urayasu.

The visit to Ise hadn't yielded any results. According to the records of the local law-enforcement, Rakurai had strolled into town, taken down all criminals he could find, and had left barely a week later, a cleansed city left in his wake.

In Urayasu however, they'd stumbled on many clues, coming from many different sources.

Some of them came from criminals complaining loudly about being counter-ambushed. Apparently, that meant that they'd tried to ambush some 'punk with a mask' walking along the street, before said individual had suddenly displayed 'mad skills' and had taken them all down, to paraphrase the highly insulted criminals.

Another source was a woman who had professed that Rakurai had saved her from being raped. When pushed for more details however, the woman had apologised and explained she had been in too much distress to clearly remember what the vigilante looked like. She did mention he had stuck around for some time to ensure she was alright, so she could confirm that he was rather short.

It hadn't been much, but Osaki and Yomaura had been happy with every bit of evidence and every clue they could get. Well, that used to be her attitude. Now, she greatly regretted finding out too much.

When she had entered Urayasu, the first thing that had stood out to her was the feeling of death washing over her. It was familiar, unsettling, and it gave her a very good idea of what she might be dealing with. She had prayed she was mistaken but had been more than prepared in case she was not.

When she had tracked down the source, alone, without her partner or anyone else even as much as knowing what she was doing in case she was correct in her assumption, she had found an abandoned factory, where the feeling of death was strongest.

There had also seemed to be a sense of immense power in the air there. It had been... electrifying, and Yomaura had wondered what it could be.

After she had entered the factory and walked past the countless traps that had littered the halls and stairs, all of them disabled, she came upon a room that had been completely devastated.

The door had been blown off its hinges, as if something had impacted it with great force. There were scorch marks everywhere, even on the stones, as if someone had been throwing napalm around. There were cracks and fissures in one of the walls, looking as if something human-sized yet very durable had hit it. Lastly, there was a pile of ash on the ground, right next to the broken wall. A pile of ash that, upon closer inspection, revealed precisely what kind of creature had lived here.

A Dead Apostle.

The thought of something like that living in a place like Urayasu had made Yomaura want to snarl in discontent and anger. After her anger had ebbed away however, she realised what was wrong with the entire situation.

An Apostle had lived here, no doubt preying on the people of the city. It had lived here, until Rakurai had visited the town, which was right around the time that the many disappearances stopped.

Now, there was no decisive evidence that it had been Rakurai who had killed the Apostle, she knew that, but when also taking into account the seemingly impossible feats the vigilante had been pulling off left and right, she had to admit he very well could have.

That would mean that Rakurai... was a Magus!

…

That sudden thought had frozen her on the spot, a few steps outside of the abandoned factory, as her mind reeled in shock at her discovery. Denial was her first reaction.

No Magus would ever spend night after night fighting and apprehending criminals to aid the police and people in distress for no other reason than to do the right thing, which was exactly what Rakurai seemed to be doing.

No Magus would attract attention to themselves like that. That was not only foolish, but also extremely dangerous. Most other Magi would not be happy with any actions that could endanger the secrecy of the Moonlit World.

No matter how much she wanted to deny it though, the evidence was piling up. Not just the matters she'd mentioned before, but also those officers in the precinct who had been Hypnotised.

The traces of Hypnosis hadn't been apparent, and most Magi would have missed them, but Yomaura knew the signs of an altered mind better than anyone else in Fuyuki-City. She had all those signs memorised by the time she'd turned eleven after all, just like members of her family were supposed to do in order to protect themselves.

She hadn't been able to retrieve the memories or identify who had been behind the deed. To be honest, she hadn't even tried, instead purposefully looking the other way, not wanting anything to do with that world anymore.

Looking back, that had been an incredibly foolish decision.

Furthermore, Rakurai being a Magus would also explain how he had been able to take down so many enemies on his own, and how he was able to short-circuit entire buildings through unknown means, as well as sneak up on people that were on high alert.

All those thoughts had flashed through her mind at high speed, while Yomaura herself had still been frozen outside of the abandoned factory. She'd looked at it from every angle she could think of, but the conclusion remained the same.

Rakurai was a Magus, and since she was hunting Rakurai…

...She was once more involved with the Moonlit World.

The half-Irish woman had to force back a choked sob at the thought.

She had left that life behind! She had left that life, and her family, and her 'friends' and everything else behind, because she hadn't been able to bear it anymore to live there, among back-stabbers, family-members that would sell you out in a heart-beat, and cruel Lords that got everyone around them caught up in their useless games.

She had walked out of it, walked away from everything she had ever known, even her dear cousin, because she had deemed it the better choice. She still thought it was the best choice she could have made.

Yet it hurt. It still hurt beyond belief.

There were good memories as well, plenty of them, as well as the knowledge that some of her family members were probably missing her as much as she missed them. Even now.

Unable to live with that pain, she had done everything she could to forget about that previous life. A new name, a new history, a lot of courses and studies to make up for her lacking knowledge of the modern world, and a new home. She had shut down her Magic Circuits and hadn't channelled a drop of Prana in years for God's sake.

She had even gotten a job at the local law-enforcement, like a normal person, in an effort to be of use to the city she now lived in.

Fuyuki-City. A rather nice place, if one forgot about the periodic slaughters taking place there. It was quiet, off the radar, and home to very few Magi. All in all, an excellent place for someone like her to hide without being noticed by anyone.

Yomaura was sure the Second Owner of the city was a nice girl, but she was hopeless at watching over her domain.

The redheaded woman really shouldn't complain though, it had allowed her to make herself a home in the city, with her own apartment and her amazing new job.

That job even came with a great Senpai, who had allowed her to seamlessly integrate with his life, to the point where she'd become a role-model for his daughters, a role she had gladly accepted. She had been curious about their real mother at first, but after she'd been told the full story, she agreed with the Osakis that the woman was better off forgotten by all.

Yet now someone from her old life had appeared, completely out of nowhere, and was threatening to take it all away from her again.

Her Senpai would never stop pursuing the vigilante, she knew that and had even encouraged that. They had thought Rakurai to be a relatively harmless boyscout-like type, who only wanted to help others, the kind they'd arrested plenty of times before.

They had been very wrong.

This was not an ordinary well-meaning citizen that wanted to do something to protect others. This was a cold-blooded Magus with an agenda, someone who wouldn't allow anyone to obstruct him. Rakurai would kill her Senpai in a heartbeat if the vigilante ever felt that the detective was getting too bothersome.

She couldn't allow that to happen. She couldn't.

Even if it meant embracing that what she had left behind years ago, she would not let Rakurai destroy everything she had built.

Perhaps he thought his magic would give him an advantage, perhaps he thought himself unassailable because of his unnatural abilities. Perhaps that was why he was so confidently strutting around, because no one could stop him anyway.

She would prove him wrong!

She would stop him if he acted against her or her new family.

Enough with the self-pity and enough with the tears. It was time for her to pull herself together and do something to preserve her new life.

She decided then and there, as her legs stopped shaking and she stood upright once more, that Rakurai would rue the day he attacked her family. She would make him fear her, she would make him dread her, before she would take him down.

Wiping away the tears she had cried for her families, both past and present, and giving a grim smile, Yomaura Taya, for that was who she was, for now and forever, raised her hand, and drew Runes in the air in front of her, channelling Magical Energy for the first time in years, as she created a set of very specific Wards around her apartment. She would do the same for Koyo's home as soon as she could.

Let Rakurai come, let him try to attack either of their houses, and he would find that killing them would be significantly harder than he could ever expect.

For a Fraga, even a disgraced and disinherited one, would not be defeated so easily.

---

And there we are, chapter over and done, hope you all had fun reading this, thank you very much for your contribution by paying some attention to all these words.

So, hope you all had fun, but now there is some business you MUST know:

If you have something to say or something you absolutely must ask, please PM me. Questions in reviews tend to stay unanswered for quite a long while.

Also, discord. Here's the link: discord . gg / YaZvJJj

Don't forget to remove the spaces.

Joining is not at all required. I'll do my best to make sure even the casual readers of this story miss nothing.

Some credit to hollowichigo12, who has provided ideas.

Now that all those things are out of the way, let's discuss the story itself.

Zouken POV, nothing surprising there. Yes, I know Shinji raped Sakura of his own accord in canon, but in my story, he doesn't. His character is more morally correct here.

The Nokken's POV is mostly to make you aware that there are some Phantasmal Beasts left on the world, of which the Nokken was one. They slumber a lot, only ever waking up to eat (us) before falling asleep again. This one however noticed a certain protagonist, so it left its home in Germany to come to Japan and eat this delicious morsel.

Then we have Burgon hiring a mercenary. The old guy thinks he has done well, the mercenary doesn't quite agree.

Big battle between Shirou and Nokken, with the Nokken cheating quite hard. Now, I know what you're going to ask; 'but Ted, how is it possible that the Nokken could influence Shirou?'

To that, I say that directly altering or taking control over Shirou's mind was impossible for it, but reading the mind and memories, as well as sending certain feelings of calm and love over is certainly possible. Shirou's going to have to work hard on mental defences if he wants to prevent that. Well, that, or become more Asgardian, which will happen on its own.

The Nokken also based all of its taunting on what it saw in Shirou's mind.

For those of you wondering how the Beast knew that Sakura was also in trouble, the Nokken doesn't devise its taunts by itself, it has a kind of algorithm written in its lure that does the taunting. The Nokken wouldn't know anything about little sisters and fathers and stuff, so it has to rely on magic and very arcane crafts.

This also means that the thing about Sakura was made up by that algorithm. It is completely true of course, but the algorithm didn't know that, it was only bluffing. It saw that Shirou suspected Sakura to be unhappy and took that to extremes.

Shirou becomes angry, very much so, after the Nokken pulls its trick with Kiritsugu. This will be a very rare occurrence. Shirou is not quick to anger, but in this case, it was the anger over the trick, anger over the Beast indirectly threatening his sister and crush, shock over almost dying and some other things that pushed him enough to enter the Berserker-state. Anyone ever heard of Warrior's Madness? If not, look it up. It is from Marvel and belongs originally to Thor.

And we have Yomaura, who is a lot more than she seemed.

'Why didn't Shirou notice her before?' Cause she was not doing anything with her Circuits for the entire time she's been in Fuyuki. This chapter was the first time in years she's done anything with her magic at all, so there was nothing for Shirou to notice.

She truly cares for her new live by the way, and yes, she can in fact make things a lot more difficult for Shirou. A Fraga is far more dangerous an opponent than a dimwit Dead Apostle or an arrogant, young Phantasmal Beast that was out of its depth (pun unintended).

More of her history will follow later.

Ted is done. Goodbye and see you next time.