I do not own Fate/stay night or High School DxD.

"These pages are not my confession; they are my life. And I feel, as I begin to write it, that I can write it with some semblance of truth." – Fernando Pessoa

"Do you know what the issue is, Ephraim?"

I was inside a ward, one designated for those of the Seraphim. The glaring whiteness of the lights forced me to blink, adjusting to the setting once more.

It was then that I heard two distinct voices – one, deep and masculine, and the other, soft and feminine.

They were discussing a matter of contention, one which I had an inkling of, so I pushed myself into a seated position and found myself under their worried gazes.

Ephraim was the Head Medic of the Rit Zein, an organisation of Angels that served as the healers of Heaven. He was of average height, with cerulean blue eyes and platinum blonde hair. His medical robes were similar to those of earthly doctors, with a long white coat worn over a comfortable set of clothing.

He rubbed his chin softly, a habit. "Lord Shirō, might I enquire?" He asked.

I nodded.

Ephraim frowned slightly. "While your reincarnation was an outstanding success, many inexplicable problems have risen since then." He explained. "Tell me, again, does anything feel strange to you?"

I frowned, slightly, glancing towards Gabriel's worried gaze.

In actuality, much of what I felt was strange.

Over the last few months, especially during my extended stay in Kuoh, I felt the instinctive need to react. Michael explained it to me, stating it to be a natural aversion to the opposing nature. But as of late, that instinct was becoming more aggressive, especially in battle.

My frown deepened. "Back in my world, during the Holy Grail War, everyone involved was an enemy. Two of my classmates, even a teacher, participated as Masters. And we were meant to kill each other." I informed them, their gazes becoming solemn. "Shinji, a friend of mine, was sending his Servant to absorb the life-force of several female students. So, Tōsaka and I decided to stop him, but someone else got to him first."

I looked down to my hands and gripped the sheets tightly.

"I feel so much anger now than I did back then, even after he kidnapped the girl that I love. But when he was turned into a monster, I decided to save him?" I unclenched my fist, slowly gazing at the bloodied hands. "I killed them, all of them, urged forward by my instinct that whispered to me."

"It is not everyone who can be saved, Shirō. Even I have bloodied my hands regardless of whether I desired to save them." Ephraim said, a tender smile forming on his lips. "Sometimes, death can be their only salvation."

Gabriel nodded. "Indeed." She added. "Perhaps, you were affected differently by your reincarnation. Or other factors may be influencing your actions. Everyone differs from the other, especially you."

Perhaps, the memories, the experience of a future that would not be, were the cause. Sometimes, I even wondered if my disappearance brought Archer's desire to reality. He had hoped to kill me then die as a result of it, so had it become possible?

I paused, curious. "Have the others experienced similar effects?" I asked.

Ephraim shook his head. "Not at all." He hummed. "Could that be attributed to them being warriors from a young age? It could explain why you often act irrationally."

I choked. "I only did that once, Ephraim!"

It happened, once, and I had barged into territory governed by Devils after hearing the cries of a Holy Maiden. I still failed to save her that day.

Gabriel frowned. "Ephraim does raise a valid point." She nodded. "Father taught us to master ourselves, and many of us are battle-hardened warriors who have survived a countless number of wars. But you have not."

It was the truth because due to my alliance with others, I was able to survive the Holy Grail War. Saber was there, too, and more often than not, I was lucky.

I may have been trained and adopted the skills of the original wielders of the weapons that I could employ, but I severely lacked the experience to match them. Even the likes of Xenovia and Irina had more experience in battle than I did.

"You are very powerful, Shirō, but you are still young. A fledgling in our trade. It is why Dulio or Griselda often lead your expeditions." Gabriel informed kindly. "You have the time to grow and to gain the experience required of a warrior of your rank."

I clutched the sheets once more. " How long?" I whispered. "We don't know the future or the enemies that we will go against. What lack of ability causes me to hesitate, to not kill those who might lead others to death?"

I could feel my heart speeding, pounding at speeds I could not comprehend, as I gazed at my bloodied hands. It stained the sheets, the blood of the evil, the unkind, and of the innocent. The robes I had whitened, so as not to match him, became tainted with a familiar crimson as my arms sank into the blood of the countless.

But then, the soft hand on my chin forced me to look up.

Her gaze was furious. "You are not your future self, Shirō." She whispered sternly. "He was lost and alone! Even betrayed by those he saved! He became a spectre that made sure that others would not suffer as he did."

I remembered it, a scene so vivid, that it ached my heart even after eternity.

A desolate hill of swords.

"But you are not him." She stated with finality. "You may have some of his memories, believe yourself to be a version of himself, but you are not Counter Guardian EMIYA. You are you."

No, its not a desolate world. It's the Ever-distant Utopia.

Gabriel's gaze focused into mine. "And you have us." She said. "We will not die and leave you behind. Nor will abandon or betray you."

I gazed into her eyes, the same that matched the untainted waters of the Garden of Eden. Though colourless, I could understand every emotion. Worry, faith, kindness and care. They resonated so fully within me, I had to wonder why and when my vision became so blurry.

Even then, I saw her smile through the greys. "I will always be by your side, Shirō." She wiped my cheeks. "Whenever you feel misguided, or feel the enormity of life in this world, or even feel his memories turning you into someone you do not wish to become, I will be here."

It was such a strange experience, to know that my sister respected the person who was once my future-self. Yet she treated me, and the me I knew from memory, with the same love and care, despite never meeting the former.

"He sounds like a great man. You are a great man, Shirō."

Ephraim bowed slightly. "If I can be of help, we of the Rit Zein would be willing at any time." He said before turning towards the exit. "My door will always be open." Then he left.

Gabriel made a place for herself on the bed and laid my head onto her lap, calmly running a hand through my locks while humming a soft tune. It was a familiar sight, one that I had come to enjoy as much as my other brothers did. Especially Sariel, the youngest of the Seraphim, never missed the opportunity, always raving with a child-like vigour.

Gabriel paused her machinations. "How far have you journeyed?" She asked, before continuing.

I blinked at the oddity of the question, before a thought flashed through my mind in remembrance.

"I don't know." I confessed. "He lived a long life, came across countless weapons from nearly every age, too. The last one I wielded was from my time, I believe."

The vastness of my Reality Marble could not be measured nor could it be traversed in a limited period. Through memory, I could access something akin to a directory that Archer's – my – memories suggested in a particular situation.

Gabriel hummed. "You mentioned that you learn of the weapon's history and the user's skills, no?" She asked and I nodded. "Could it be that you are adopting their traits as well?"

I paused and my eyes widened at the suggestion, so much so that I shot into a seated position.

In truth, I had a fairly simple understanding how my ability worked. My Structural Analysis served as its base, studying and learning of the weapon, its history and its make. It was the reason why I didn't need years to master that particular weapon because I adopted their skill as if I was the original wielder.

If that weren't the case, I would have honed my ability with Kanshō and Bakuya because they were never wielded in life.

But what I had forgotten to consider was the possibility of the original wielder imparting their soul into the weapon and its entirety being studied. More so, with Noble Phantasms being unique and only capable of being wielded by the owner.

No. That's insane.

"I doubt that." I muttered, laying my head down again. "Actually, that is too convenient for an ability."

Gabriel giggled. "Yet you recreate blades that you have seen out of nothingness, and use their original power." She deduced. "You truly are an oddity, little brother."

She has a point. I have to look into it.

We remained in relative silence for several minutes, my thoughts being swarmed by the enormity of the theory I had breached. Soon, Gabriel tapped my cheek and I sat up, stretching and releasing the knots that had wound up into my back. I stood up and did the same for my legs, reaching for my knees, then my toes.

Resting for an extended time always affected me in this manner. It was as if my body had trained itself to always work, and rest was a foreign concept.

"I guess so." I responded to her previous quip. "No one in this world understands my ability and I didn't really have the best teachers in mine. I can only work with what I know."

Gabriel smiled. "That should be enough." She said and gestured. "Come."

I followed her out of the medical ward using an exit that led to a balcony. I leaned against and sharpened my eyes to gaze at the futuristic city around us.

Fifth Heaven was the most technologically advanced of the Kingdom – in the entire world perhaps. It was the centre of research, medicine, and science-related applications. Their structures, were made of various metals, standing taller and stronger than any modern-day capital.

In the past, it was quite archaic and similar to First Heaven. But after the Fall of the Grigori, the Angels that protect humanity, the land had become desolate for a time, with no one to care for it amidst the endless war.

"Is that the boy down there by the pond?" Gabriel hummed curiously.

She was leaning over the balcony, her interest drawn to the flora that bordered the small garden below. I glanced down and spotted the boy.

Leonardo was seated on a bench settled beneath a luscious elm tree, and he was dressed in white robes that fit his small stature. Beside him was Ephraim, and the man was gesturing a tale that seemed to delight the boy.

It warmed my heart to see him expressing his joy and happiness.

"Didn't you want to meet with him today?" I asked, turning to my sister.

Gabriel shook her head. "In due time." She said as she unfurled her wings. "Ephraim has promised to help him, so we should allow that to occur without interference."

Gabriel took to the skies and I quickly unfurled my wings, and I followed after her.

We had learned of Leonardo Corsi's past through the Scribe of God, Metatron. His detailing of every human that lived was unique only to him, an ability that even Michael and the other Seraphim did not have.

He told us of the boy's story, how he was born out of wedlock to a whore and a father who never saw his son's face. The had struggled. His mother only gained so much from her risky profession, but she had tried her best to raise her mute son, caring for him as best as she could. She taught him skills that she believed would serve him in life, educated him so that he did not fall so behind his peers. They had struggled, but the boy was happy.

Until the day she died.

Merely three years ago, Monica of Corsica had lost her life to a long-term illness and left her child alone. Orphaned at the age of seven, those who took him in were not kind because of his weakness, but they had taken advantage of his budding craftsmanship. It had drawn attention to him, so much so that he had been found and vanished without a trace.

No one knew how life had treated him after that, not even the Scribe himself.

We flew into the Tower of Babel and were subsequently showered by iridescent colours of every kind. Similar to teleportation, the act of enshrouding yourself with mana and pulling yourself to a marked location, we reappeared in the plains of Sixth Heaven.

It was the day of the ceremony and many would be in attendance. I hadn't wandered around the previous day, preferring to rest after visiting the Seventh, so I was unsure of who would be in attendance.

At the very least, I had enjoyed that rest.

We exited through the open frame of the stairway and hovered alongside the clouds of Sixth Heaven. Though it seemed vast, even empty, there stood a grand palace atop the largest cloud.

Built in a style similar to Romanic architecture of the 17th century, with strong pillars and imposing columns, it was of a pure white stone that was lined with gold. The world had seen it, even adored it by calling it their Holy Ground, but that was a mere imitation crafted by the hands of Man.

Not laid brick by brick the hands of God.

"Donato Bramante did a fine job with creating an imitation of our home." Gabriel smiled softly. "It often amazes me how humans can be driven to reach that which they cannot."

I looked forward, studying the immaculate structure once more. "Does it still happen?" I asked, curious. "Humans seeing visions of Heaven?"

We descended to the stairs that led to the Holy Palace of Zebel, the home of the Seraphim. It was where all gathered for ceremonies hosted by the principality of Heaven.

"Unfortunately so." Gabriel spoke with a frown. "Father was strict, granting such a privilege only to the Saints. But with us at its helm, the Holy System is but a mere shadow of itself."

As we ascended the stairs, in a contemplative silence, I wondered how effective the system was in the past.

Devils of the current age only wince whenever they uttered the names of the holy. It was curious how much they feared it's effects, so it was with certainty that it was deadlier in the past, especially considering that they were at war with one another.

None had reason to utter His name.

I spotted the group that awaited us, the four women curtsying as we approached. They stood to their heights in a rehearsed fashion, each of them expressing their varied joy.

Griselda stepped forward, taking charge of the group. "Milady." She greeted before glancing towards me. "Good morning, Shirō. Welcome home."

I bowed in respect to my seniors. "Thank you, and good morning to you, too." I smiled softly, glancing to the women behind her. "You too, Mirana."

Mirana squeaked, her face flushing as she muttered a quiet 'good morning'.

Despite ranking amongst the most powerful of the Brave Saint, she was quite a timid and shy individual. Adorned in the black robe, like the others beside her, she wore a headdress that did the unfortunate act of hiding the long tresses that reached her lower back.

She cracked a grey-blue eye, one filled with curiosity, before shutting it just as fast.

She amused me to no end.

I studied the women beside them, curious. "My apologies, but we have yet to meet." I said, leaning forward with a bow. "I am Emiya Shirō and I have assumed the role of Joker."

Bright blue eyes blinked as both women stepped forward. "I am Rachel Hortensia, serving as Milady's Ten." She greeted. "It is an honour to finally meet you, Brother Shirō."

Though she looked younger than myself, I noticed an intelligence behind her intense blue eyes – which were highlighted by auburn-coloured brows. Her blue emanated kindness and intuitiveness, a blue so beautiful it reminded me of a dark-haired beauty.

"Agatha of Sicily, Milady's Jack." The older woman announced. "It is a please to meet you, Brother Shirō. Milady has spoken good of you."

Widened eyes shot to the Seraph beside me and she had the decency to flash an amused smile, nodding in the process.

I bowed once more, deeper than I initially had. "It is my please, Rachel, Saint Agatha." I declared, smiling. "This is a pleasant surprise."

Regarded as a virgin martyr of the highest order, Agatha of Sicily was an illustrious individual. History told of a woman that pledged herself to chastity, rejecting even the amorous advances of a Romanic Prefect, and subsequently suffered for her beliefs.

Torture, defamation, imprisonment; those were amongst the heinous acts she endured through her confession of an undying belief to God – a virtue not found in many.

"You needn't relay such formality, young man." She informed kindly. "Are we not but servants to our Lady and the Kingdom of Heaven itself?"

Grace. "I suppose we are." I said, returning her smile. Then I glanced to Gabriel. "I wasn't aware that you are allowed to recruit actual Saints. Wouldn't Michael-oniisama have asked Saint Peter, or the others?"

Gabriel brushed aside a lock of hair. "You know how brother feels about that, Shirō." She smiled softly. "He promised them an eternal rest."

'But he won't rest himself', remains unsaid.

I decided to change the topic. "Anyway, are you trying to make me the only guy in the group?" I asked, sighing.

Gabriel paused, shooting a mischievous glance over her shoulder.

"Does it bother you, Shirō?" She asked cutely. "Being surrounded by these beautiful and powerful women?

Rachel tilted her head slightly and Agatha's eyes gained an amused gleam, proving that I had lost this short bout.

I heaved a tired sigh. "Not at all. I was just curious." I can't just roll over. I shot a thumb to the side. "I'm sure Mirana doesn't mind me being around, right?"

The young woman squeaked, again, before fervently shaking her head. "O-Of course not!" She whispered. "I like having Shirō-senpai around."

I shook my head again. "We've gone over this before, Mirana. Just call me by my name." I said, following behind Gabriel and Griselda. "Besides, you're older than me. And you're not even Japanese."

It was strange how our group functioned, because Gabriel would often let Griselda handle the finer details such inner-workings of the Suit. Previously, there were only four of us, but it seemed that the others had caught onto her their habits and followed without question.

They work so well with each other.

I had to stifle a laugh when I heard Mirana sputter in embarrassment.

"B-But you are my senior here, Shirō-senpai! You even have more wings." She gestured with quick actions. "You're literally at the top of the Reincarnated Angel food chain."

I chuckled softly. "We're not food, Mirana." Harder when I heard her sputter again. "And I'm younger than more of you guys, maybe a little stronger. How come you don't call Dulio or by that suffix?"

I glanced to the girl and noticed her send Griselda a fearful look.

"Griselda threatened to hit me if I did, saying that I won't learn anything from him." Mirana pouted. "Dulio is never around for too long, anyway."

"I was there." Rachel muttered while suppressing a shiver. "She's a terrifying woman."

Is she hogging all the seniority to herself?

I looked over to Agatha who kept her pace sedated a few steps behind us. Though she didn't look much older than any of us, she held an aged countenance which stood testament to her having lived for over a thousand years.

She noticed my gaze and smiled mirthfully. "That young lady treats me well." She said.

Of course, she would.

I shot a particular look to our Queen and unsurprisingly, she glanced over her shoulder.

Her eyes were narrowed as usual. "Is something the matter, Shirō?" She asked firmly.

I suppressed my shiver. "Not really, Griselda-senpai." I acquiesced.

Terrifying woman indeed.

Zebel consisted of majestic hallways that led into four main directions with an epicentre that made up a hall. Unlike the Vatican, which had an array of ornaments and, more iconically, the paintings on the walls and on the ceilings, the home of the Great Seraphs held a beauty in its simplicity.

Though the Basilica of Saint Peter was a marvel, Zebel was perfection.

Cast and sculpted into the stone of the Holy Palace, like motion pictures, were images of the times, from the first event of Man meeting an Angel, to the waters being split to create the ocean and the skies, and another of a hallowed child being born. Every single deed of which the Angels were involved was etched into the eternal structure, each story representing a glorious victory for Heaven.

As we approached our destination, I sensed awe and reverence emanating from the other members. Rachel, who was by my side, was gazing up to the ceiling which depicted the Fall of Sodom and Gomorrah. I had to nudge the girl, reminding her to be attentive.

Though, irregardless of how often I walked through these casted depictions, I would always be struck with reverence.

We walked through an open entrance that led to the venue and I marvelled at the expansive hall that seemed to extend for a countless miles. Firm pillars extended farther than my eyes could see, almost as if they held the skies in place. There was no ceiling, however, the stars themselves served as a grand canopy.

Angels of every order and rank were gathered in celebration, garbed in white so pure and their golden halos glowing like miniature stars.

We followed our Lady and I spotted the other Brave Saints amongst the crowd. I had the privilege of meeting amongst them, and though I could see new faces, Nero still waved excitedly before Diethelm nudged him, signalling for him to be still.

I shook my head at their usual antics and looked forward.

Where Gabriel passed, Angels bowed. Even as we followed behind her, with the appearance of a grand entourage, we maintained a trained countenance. But as she walked with a refined elegance, a beauty unparalleled that garnered immediate respect and adoration, I remembered these words.

The Bird Flies to God.

And as she too her place beside her brethren, I found them not so dissimilar to the hallowed entity.

She smiled to us. "Thank you."

We paid our respects and made way to join the others, taking a seat in our designated places alongside the Brave Saints.

The Main Area was fashioned similarly to a church, with the two sides of an alignment of benches being separated by the golden carpet we had walked upon. The benches themselves were finely crafted stools, giving enough space for every Angel to fold their wings. But many had them sealed, serving as a testament to their refined control.

We seemed more of a congregation rather than a heavenly battalion.

The Angels of Music hovered above us playing a melody, a harmony so grand that it moved the hearts of many. With the stars as their stage, the beautiful men and women expressed Joy through the strumming of their harps and violins, as well as the blowing of their flutes and trumpets.

Theirs was a duty of praise, a euphony for their master.

Michael took a stand, his gilded halo glowing like the sun itself. He had a smile adorning his lips, his aura emanating joy and fulfilment.

It gladdened him, every time, to see his brethren gathered. And though such events were far in-between, they were precious to him.

"Greetings to you, my brethren." He tipped his head. "I thank you for attending this ceremony, though it may have been on short notice for many of you."

Michael paused, gathering his words as those gathered waited patiently.

"The Great War brought us a loss which led to fundamental changes in our livelihood as a race and as a kingdom. We lost our Father and our brethren, and our lives may never be what they once were." He stated solemnly. "But we have entered a new age, one filled with hope for a splendid future. Through the efforts of the Four Great Satans and our own intelligence, we have founded the Brave Saints System."

Michael waved an arm towards us, the Brave Saints. "These are men and women who believe in our Father, in our endless cause and ideal. This is more than I can express through words, but I do thank you." He smiled. "I ask that those of the Seraphim come forth."

Surprised, I rose from my seat and walked to stand alongside the other Seraphim. Dulio offered a kind smile as I counted those of us in attendance – there weren't many of us. Rather, there only remained twelve Seraphim in Heaven.

It reminded me of just how much they had lost to the war.

Michael gestured and we showed deference to him. "My brothers." He said softly. "You are the beacons of the heavens, a testament of the ability and dedication to our cause. It with that honour that I present you with these gifts."

He walked down two steps and stood in front of the man beside me, gesturing to the air as if turning a key and revealing two boxes that fell into his hands. The boxes emanated a familiar aura, but that same aura was quelled in the presence of the Archangel.

Michael stepped forward. "Dulio Gesualdo, my Joker. Hailed as the Strongest Exorcist." He announced. "Whence I sought you out, you asked me but a simple question. Do you remember it?"

Dulio looked up, reverent. "Of course, Milord." He said, his smooth voice expressing kindness. "I asked that you allow me to travel, to learn all I could to help every child in need."

Michael nodded. "But why do it alone?" He asked. Then, he presented an object from the box. "I present to you this, a Suit of Spades. It is my wish that you continue to help the children of the world, and it is my hope that you will continue lead your brethren to greener pastures."

The Suit of Spades hovered in the air, turning ever so slowly as though it were a child leaving its mother. Dulio reached out to it gracefully and touched it, and it re-enacted a phenomena I had only witnessed twice.

Brimming with a limited yet overwhelming power, the thirteen cards hovered around the man, enshrouding him in Holy Power. It touched the well of great power that rested in him, increasing several fold and causing my eyes to widen marginally.

His hair floated from the sudden influx of power and before him, a single card hovered as it absorbed the other twelve. He grabbed it, grasping the nigh-limitless power and drew it in with astounding control. Even as the energy slowly settled down, his viridescent eyes glowed with an unusual intensity.

Dulio lowered his head in deference. "I will perform to my utmost best, Milord." He pledged.

"I trust that you will." Michael smiled.

I was second and as he walked over to me, my mind raced at what I – we – had witnessed. Because Ephraim's theory was true.

He had explained it to me, that the basis of the Brave Saints System came from the Evil Pieces wielded by Devils. Similarly, they functioned like enhancement drugs that lasted an extended time, enhancing one's already existing abilities and powers. If a hybrid were to be reincarnated, they would retain their hybridity, but sacrifice their human part for a supernatural aspect.

It was clear through Himejima Akeno retaining her Fallen Angel traits.

As he explained it further, he reached the hypothetical of a human with a Sacred Gear being reincarnated into an Angel or a Devil. Since my ability cannot be classified, he had used Dulio Gesualdo as an example: the Strongest Exorcist capable of battling Ultimate-Class and coming out of it alive.

But Ephraim had asked a simple question.

"How would a human blessed with God's undying love and the greatest abilities known to man turn out?"

I shivered because his power was now comparable to Uriel, the fourth strongest in Heaven.

"Emiya Shirō, Child of the Unknown." Michael smiled. "You have believed in such a farfetched ideal despite initially viewing us as strangers. You have fought battles, bled in pursuit of this grand goal, but most of all, you have saved the lives of many."

A Suit of Hearts hovered above his hand, its minute detailing of white hearts enhanced by its crimson colouring. It was similar to the Suit of Spades, I realised, but that set was painted a deep obsidian instead.

I believed there to be a reason of significance.

"Though we fail to grasp the extent of your abilities nor understand the despair that flows through your being, we are eternally grateful for your efforts." My eyes widened while Michael smiled. "The Hearts signify the left-hand, and alongside Dulio, it is my hope that you will lead the Vanguards of Heaven wisely."

I nodded firmly before reaching out to the Suit of Hearts and touched them.

Power surged through my synapses, a nigh-endless source of energy filtering into my being. My heart raced, beating at extreme speeds, yet I did not feel my body overcome by heat. Rather, I was calm.

My senses extended, reaching out to identify all seven hundred and seventy-seven Angels with as much clarity as the sun during a summer afternoon. I could sense all of their emotions with a vivid clarity. Awe, wonder, shock.

And a sickening envy.

Though, before I could identify who it was, I felt something touch my soul.

I caught a glimpse of the last of the cards enter the safety of my soul given form – my heart. In that momentous happening, I studied its design that roused familiarity before it finally bonded with me.

I toiled with my energy that had exploded once more, grasping, coiling it just as I had been taught and locked it into the recesses of my core. My hand settled above my heart where I kept safe the beginnings of a new family before I looked up to Michael, curious.

"Michael-sama, I do not believe that I deserve it." I started. "Though I may be one, a Joker is of great value. Surely there must be someone worthier than myself."

I glanced to the Seraphim beside me, taking note of their expressions towards the proceedings. Sandalphon held a stern countenance, but shook his head with an amused smile. Metatron, too, shook his head while Raziel released a soft sigh. Raguel smirked amusedly while Remiel stared vacantly for several moments, before shrugging.

Unsurprisingly, though, Sariel had a cheeky smile that grated at my nerves.

"It was found that a Joker only belongs to another." Michael informed kindly. "You will never be alone."

Not anymore.

I bowed in deference. "I will not betray your trust in me, Michael-sama." I announced. "This I promise."

Though I wasn't looking at him, I knew that my most honourable brother was smiling happily.

As my wings continued to flap on my back, I wondered if it was due to being reborn with a full set of twelve wings that I couldn't easily adapt to their usage, despite my many months of practice. I shook my head at the impossibility of that theory.

Though, my eyes did narrow towards Dulio who shot into the Tower.

"Careful now, little brother." He spoke. "A sound heart is the life of the flesh, but envy is rottenness to the bones."

I shot a sharp look to Sariel. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I asked dryly.

He smirked. "It has been eight months yet you still can't fly." He mocked. "I find your aptitude very questionable, little brother."

I sighed and descended onto the roof, landing by the edge that covered the staircase that led into Zebel. I took a seat beside the Seraphim and join him in his hobby of watching others.

Of the Pure Angels, Sariel was the one closest to me in age, despite being well over a thousand years old. He held the countenance of a teenager and had a personality that matched his form, too. With light blue hair – a complete rarity amongst Pure Angels – and golden eyes that were quite uncommon too.

Being the last of his natural-born kid – he being created amidst the final stages of the Great War – he hadn't the opportunity to grow like his siblings did. Rather, he had been gifted an ability, one he had learned to master without the guidance of his Father.

Sariel smiled softly. "Heh, can you believe that Eldest Brother awarded me a Suit of Spades containing a Joker?" He muttered.

"I suppose that we're in the same boat." I agreed.

"No kidding." He muttered while running a hand through his locks. "I am sure that they expect great things from us, but gifting us our own Suits is somewhat foreboding."

That was the truth.

It felt as if, in the near future, the Four Great Seraphs would rescind their ranks. So much so that were making contingencies by assigning duties and ranks in case something befell them.

I scratched an itch on my temple. "The future has many uncertainties." I informed. "Who can say that they know what will happen?"

Sariel turned to me, a frown resting on his gentle features. That worried me, because he was never one to frown.

"That's the issue, Shirō." He started. "Michael should have an idea of what's to come."

I paused, my eyes widening at the revelation.

I still hadn't the slightest idea of the abilities that the Seraphim held, more so the Four Great Seraphs because they never were the ones to act.

"It is an ability unique only to him." He continued. "It is akin to precognition, offering him vague visions of the future. It's a part of what made him a fierce warrior during the Great War."

"Precognition?" I whispered.

Michael, unlike the Seraphim, was unique – standing alone as the Archangel. He was regarded as the Strongest Angel, yet I had never seen him utilise anything beyond what the Seraphim could. It was curious how he was regarded as a great warrior despite his pacifism.

"It is recorded in scripture nor was it crafted into the walls of this sanctuary that know truth. But it is an undeniable fact." Sariel whispered nostalgically. "Because Michael killed Lucifer."

I blinked. "Wait! That doesn't –"

Sariel shot an amused glance. "Calm down, little brother. It is not much of a secret, rather it is quite known." He appeased. "Many of us witnessed that penultimate battle. Why do you think we Angels respect him so?"

I frowned slightly, knowing that his power was not the only reason they respected him. However, if his grand act of defeating Lucifer was true, it placed the Archangel on a higher pedestal.

So, I calmed down and patiently waited for Sariel to continue. Moments of awkward silence passed before I finally felt irritation build up within.

"Aren't you going to continue?" I asked, sharply.

He chuckled. "Oh, right. My bad." He said. "We respect him for many a reason. He is our eldest brother, Father's beloved son, and the man who has sacrificed himself for Man and the Heavens since time immemorial. Yet his battle against Lucifer proved his specialty."

Sariel looked to me, solemn and vulnerable. It was such an expression that clenched at my heart, reminding me of the father I had lost.

"But he lost that specialty when Father died."

It was a solemn and bitter reality that the Angels of Heaven would have to live with for the rest of their eternal lives.

"I am quite surprised." A voice whispered from behind us. "I did not expect to find the two of you gossiping."

We turned to find the topic of our discussion seated behind us. His saddened gaze seemed heavier than I had ever realised.

"It soothes my heart to know that you worry about me so, Sariel." He smiled softly. "But you are not completely correct."

Michael reached out his hands and ruffled our hairs, much to Sariel's chagrin and my utter amusement.

"Father was an anchor. With him, the grandest of dreams could become a reality." He said. "I like to believe myself capable, more so now than ever before. I have much to protect, after all."

It was admirable, truly. That the Archangel could persevere through so much and even have hope for a farfetched future, one that many would have given up on.

Michael inspired me to achieve my grand goal of becoming a Hero of Justice. To me, standing beside him opened a pathway to attaining every dream I ever wished for.

He let go of our heads and adopted a serious countenance. "But it is true that I have made contingencies because I worry about the future I cannot see." He frowned. "That which faces me is an abyss, an emptiness devoid of all. Nothingness as it once were."

I shivered at those words, a sinking feeling becoming prevalent in my core. It whispered terrors to me, relaying the revelation to be true as though I knew I would die tomorrow, but remain unaware the cause.

I looked up to him, worriedly. "What was the last thing you saw?" I asked. "Before that."

"You." Michael smiled. "A fissure in space and time that brought forth a foreign boy."

I remained quiet, muted by my surprise at the realisation that it hadn't been by chance. In the vastness of the worlds and life itself existed a fate that brought me to this place, to know these people and to become one of them.

It gnawed at my mind because my instinct urged me to remember, yet I could not.

"Perhaps, you symbolise what is to come." Michael said. "Or the very end itself. I remain uncertain."

Remember, Emiya Shirō.

But I could not.

We sat in complete silence, each one of us contemplating the enormity of such a revelation. I watched the clouds below as they hovered, soothing my aching soul as I witnessed the Angels chatter with delight.

The countless homes hovered to and fro, empty despite having houses hundreds upon hundreds of Seraphim. Zebel itself followed a lightless pattern I was unfamiliar with, with Metatron's Library hovering above the palace.

"Does anyone else know?" Sariel whispered.

Michael nodded his head. "Just us seven." He answered. "I will inform the others."

"Heh, how symbolic." Sariel mumbled. "Is that why you have gathered so many strong individuals for your Suit? To personally train them and prepare for the unknown?"

Michael nodded. "It is." He said. "I apologise for offering Ewald before you could. I should have known that you would wish to do the same as he is your friend."

Sariel shrugged and I smiled softly. "He will serve better as your Queen than he would as an Ace." He sighed. "I'll have to offer the Cardinal Bishop boy."

Michael's expression became apologetic. "He is waiting for Shirō, unfortunately."

I shot a look of surprise. "Me?"

"Now, that's unfair. Why's it that you're all getting the good ones?" Sariel glared and pointed accusingly, his earlier formality forgotten. "First it was Griselda – I understand, sister has that 'chastity' thing going on – then Dulio, Vasco Strada, Ewald and now the Bishop boy!?"

I shot a curious look. "Who recruited Vasco Strada?" I asked, extremely curious. "Hey, we're in the same boat!" I bit back.

"But all of them are good…" Michael whispered.

But Sariel ignored him. "This guy right here!" He said, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "At least you have someone willing to sign up. I have no one. Not one is willing to offer to join my team. Am I that mean-looking?"

I blinked. "Well, yeah." I stated simply. "Have you seen that Cardinal Deacon you're friends with? Count on one hand the number of times that you have seen him smile."

Sariel stared before slouching. "You have a point." He muttered weakly.

I grinned victoriously.

Sariel was a thorn in my side that pestered me for my inability to fly, and when it came to our verbal spars, he usually won. But those experiences had warmed us up to each other and I could honestly say that I had found a really good friend in him.

Michael chuckled, his soft voice expressing great humour. "It is good to know that the two of you get along so well." He said, smiling. "It seems that I had worried for naught."

He then took to his feet and unfurled his wings, and I could tell that he was preparing to return to the Seventh. So, I called to him.

"I have a question." I started. "Are we to recruit only believers?"

It was a thought that had repeated itself in my mind after the ceremony. Because I had been recruited despite my lack of religious backing, and seeing that the other Seraphs had believers in their Suits, I couldn't stand out by opposing an fixed rule.

"Not necessarily, though it would be better to do so. However, I trust you to be a good judge of character." Michael said before his eyes widened minutely. "That does remind me, I promised to introduce you to the person who will accompany you to that mission."

I nodded. "You did." I said. "Has Grauzauberer responded to our request?" I asked curiously.

Michael shook his head. "Not as of yet." He said, unfurling his wings. "In preparation, please do visit the Sigurd Institute and ask for a young girl by the name of 'Lint'. She is interested in meeting you."

I nodded again. "I'll make sure to visit her tomorrow."

Michael nodded, but just as he was about to fly off, Sariel called to him.

"Brother, you did say anyone that we can trust, right?" He asked.

Michael chuckled amusedly. "Anyone but Hugh Jackman."

As Michael flew off into the Tower, Sariel slouched again and I was tempted to comfort the guy.

"Is it because I'm the youngest?" He whispered.

"No, I am." I corrected.

"Quiet you!"

Sometimes I forget how moody this guy can be.

Stato della Città del Vaticano stood as the capital of the catholic sect of Christianity. It was home to the leaders, those who pioneered the faith and where many of the Exorcists were bred.

They were learned in faith, theology and the art of battle, serving as the front that subjugated the creatures of the night which threaten Man. Currently, as my eyes wandered, I found several men and women gathered before an instructor, giving them the directory of a course of action or the other.

However, they weren't whom I meant to meet. Rather, the two men approached me and bowed diligently.

"Welcome, Milord Emiya Shirō." The elder greeted. "You grace us with your presence."

I smiled kindly. "I find it strange that you still insist on calling me a 'lord', Ewald-sama." I said. "Especially considering that you've recently become my brother's Queen."

"The Seraphim consider you their brother." Ewald stated. "It would be rather malignant of me to treat you otherwise."

The young man beside Ewald chuckled, amused by the proceedings.

"I never believed that I would find something about you amusing, Sir." He said. "Though, it is quite an effeminate title for one of your stature."

Ewald sent the young man a sharp look while I adopted a bubbling sense of amusement. But he retained his humour and took a more natural bow.

"It is good to see you again, Shirō." He greeted. "Thank you for accepting audience with us."

I smiled kindly. "It is good to see you again, Teodoro." I replied.

Ewald Cristaldi and Teodoro Legrenzi were amongst the highest-ranking officials within the Catholic Church's hierarchy. And though their ages varied immensely, they greatly respected each other.

The dark-haired elderly – though he looks much younger – man had a stern and serious countenance to him. He was a highly decorated individual, having served as an Exorcist into his later years and as a teacher to individuals such as Dulio – even Xenovia and Irina. It was curious, though, that he had accepted the renewed status quo despite being a staunch traditionalist and firm believer of dated teachings.

Teodoro, however, was a unique case – more so than many within the institution. He was a Miracle Child, borne of Man and Angel, and gifted with the talents of both. He had risen to the rank of Cardinal Bishop due to his exceptional ability, and was regarded to be amongst the Five Strongest Exorcists of the Church.

"Effeminate as it may be, it is a blessing to serve Lord Michael." Ewald concluded firmly before gesturing to the side. "If you may follow us."

While Ewald led us, Teodoro walk beside me with an easy smile on his lips. The dark-haired boy, being unique even amongst others of his kind, had a halo of a white-gold that enhanced his angelic features. He – and Ewald – were garbed in their usual priestly vestments, attracting respectful acknowledgements from the odd passerby.

Out of habit, I had taken an approach of a normal human so as not to attract attention to myself.

I glanced to the boy, curious. "Is it not uncomfortable?" I asked. "Being under the constant reverence and scrutiny of the people?"

Teodoro raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes settled in calm. "It is. But there isn't much I can do about it." He smirked. "It may be one of the few downsides of being a hybrid."

Fair enough.

"I know someone in a similar situation. But she hates her Fallen Angel heritage." I informed him. "Oftentimes, she retains her Devil features. I can confess, though, that I don't really understand hybridity."

I chuckled softly at the strangeness of it all. It was only during her direst moments that I discovered that she was of Fallen Angel birth – or rather partly.

"Upon losing their purity, the Fallen lack the halos to signify them as such." Ewald said before stopping in front of a door. "Just as their wings blacken with sin, so do they lose the right to be counted amongst the heavenly."

Ewald led us into a quaint office that was lined with several shelves. I could spot countless journals, scrolls with information that dated back hundreds of years, and strange artefacts. As the Cardinal Deacon, he wielded a plethora of knowledge and information necessary for his standing.

There stood a small, round coffee table with four single couches surrounding it. From what I knew of him, Ewald never accepted more than three guests at a time – truly a strict and unconditional individual.

After taking our seats and settling in, silence pervaded the room and I quietly waited for the men to begin.

Ewald was never one to stumble. "Lady Gabriel's revelation to us of the truth withheld by Heaven nearly shattered our resolve – as a collective and as individuals." He started. "Truthfully, I even found myself against your true nature."

I remembered it vividly.

Despair was a curious emotion, yet it was the outcome of such an experience that made it so terrifying. Because upon the revelation, we had lost.

Many had abandoned the church, some had given up entirely and a very few had remained. Of the few that remained, they had become the Brave Saints counted amongst those gathered at the recent ceremony.

It was why they were so venerated within the Kingdom of Heaven.

Ewald sighed. "It slipped a bitter taste into my mouth; the idea of working alongside the Fallen Angels and Devils – our mortal enemies. Though I remained, my mind whispered words of rebellion, especially after many of us descended into madness." He stated gravely. "I am immensely grateful for Lord Michael's intervention. For I fear we may have seen though such a abhorrent endeavour."

Teodoro frowned lightly. "We didn't have a choice, but to accept it. Difficult as it may be." He added solemnly. "My father had predicted such, seeing to it that a legacy of his dedication remains through me."

I understood their grievances. Because of such a staunch upbringing, they saw evil in all Devils. They hadn't the chance to meet, to understand, nor to befriend those fiendish beings.

In their eyes, Devils would remain as the Devils of old.

"I am not blind enough to not see the good in it." Ewald continued. "Godless and despicable they may be, they have helped Heaven and, in lieu, us in many a way. A truce is far better than commanding the ceaseless deaths of our kindred."

The life of Man was precious, but that of an Exorcist was extremely limited. Outliers such as Vasco Strada and Ewald Cristaldi were rare and very far in-between – not many lived to reach their thirties. Because, all their ability, they faced a single limitation.

Humanity.

The duty of an Exorcist was filled with immeasurable risks because they were humans who battled the supernatural. Their bodies were weak, fragile and that weakness often led to their deaths.

Terrible, terrible deaths.

I gazed at the man. "You mentioned that you contemplated a rebellion." I started. "What exactly did you wish to do?"

I had wondered, the thought flittering through my mind and my rationalisation reaching the worst possibilities.

Ewald frowned deeply. "Ospedale della Pieta." He said. "I wished to raze it to the ground."

I felt a burning sensation well up within me as I clenched the armrests tightly, barely able to restrain my fury.

"You wished to kill children." I whispered. "Orphaned children."

Ewald's brow furrowed into a deep grimace, his fine features expressing anger to himself.

But I remained furious, disbelieving that preconceived notions would lead him to such extreme actions. Even to the point of involving innocents.

"They are Devil children, Emiya Shirō." He whispered vehemently. "I am not proud of what I wished to do, but the possibility of the same children becoming a threat does exist."

It always will, a chilling thought manifested into my mind.

Devils are natural-born creatures of avarice, a greed so immense that they wished to take the world and burn it. There would always exist such beings because no perfect world had been realised.

The threat of the young Devils exacting revenge was as true as a nameless serial killer hunting for their next victim.

Though, my heart still burned. "Despite them being saved and cared for by the Angels?" I asked strongly. "Would you go to the extent of desecrating your beloved student's treasure?"

The Cardinal Deacon remained stone-faced, his hands clenched into tight fists. Despite his remorse, his eyes had an inkling of righteousness that truly worried me.

His student, Dulio, was an orphan. And the man had pitied of the boy, taking him under his wing and teaching him all that he knew. He had raised him to be the best even amongst the best, tutoring a good nature in him.

Yet Dulio never forgot his roots, the gift he was given nor the one who had offered so much of himself to him. So, he had done exactly as his teacher did to him.

I held an immense respect for both those men because of that.

"Elder Ewald, you taught us of good and evil, but Shirō taught me to differentiate that." Teodoro spoke after an extended silence. "While the lives of my parents were taken by Devils, I do not find those children to be evil. I tried my best to dissuade you."

Ewald looked to the boy, his eyes expressing sorrow. "It is a moment of great weakness, one I will regret for the entirety of my life." He whispered. "I truly am grateful to your efforts."

I watched the two men interact as my heartbeat slowed to a sedated pace, and my hands releasing their hold on the armrests.

It calmed me to know that someone had been there, with reason to protect even that which he loathed. To even ask for an intervention from the Archangel due to the possible severity of the situation at hand.

I nodded in agreement. "You have my thanks as well, Teodoro." I offered before remembering my reason for visiting. "Though, I don't think I'm the one you should pick for a role model."

Teodoro smiled. "Still, it is my wish to serve by your side." He proposed, his visage gaining a solemn expression. "It is a dream of us Miracle Children, to become like our fathers or mothers and invest ourselves to their eternal cause."

I looked away from the boy, to my hands that tightened before releasing. With an apprehension, those hands no longer seemed like my own.

Yet those hands will not hold anything.

"I may be losing my way, faced with a future that could be." I said before looking into the his green eyes. "Even then, will you walk me? Caution me whenever my path deters?"

His eyes were swarmed with curiosity and worry, yet I met an intensity quite similar to the one in the mirror.

I had told them, the very day that I met them, that I had a desire to be a Hero of Justice. Not only for my sake, but also for the one who never did succeed. The boy and a few others had been inspired by it but a few identified it to be an unbearable burden.

"What truly is evil? To kill one for the sake of many, or to kill the many to save a few?" Ewald recited. "An unvarying curiosity since time immemorial. It understandable, even admirable to not stray from your path. But many a time, it is impossible to do so."

A difficult truth yet one I would not so willingly accept. Because, in this world, I would bear witness to an ideal realised.

"It doesn't matter whether you stray, it is that which makes us human. My father strove to save many and those lessons have been etched into my soul." Teodoro stated determinedly, a dashing smile adorning his features. "To take a life is to endure the loss of another. Do not despair for those you failed because their souls weep for those who can still be saved. That's what he said."

In that moment, I had an epiphany. Of a memory long forgotten – spoken in mockery to myself – yet still written upon my soul.

I have no regret, this is my only path.

"Thank you." I smiled softly. "Those were the first words my father said to me after saving my life."

I placed a hand over my chest, listening to the calm vibrations of my heart thumping with joy. Subtly, Holy Power filtered into it, reaching to draw an object I knew I could offer to one I could trust with my life.

"You have reminded me, Teodoro. Of my reason for living." I whispered. "I may toil over whether I am right or wrong, or if my methods are correct. But I will always do my best to save people."

To become the Hero of Justice. Someone who believes in saving everyone.

Teodoro was awed, studying the crimson card that hovered before him with quiet reverie. With my absolute control over it, I sent it towards the boy who took to his feet.

I stood up, too, levelling a solid gaze into his own. "Become my Queen." I said. "Just as our fathers did before us, we will carry their hopes and aspirations forward."

And I directed the object into his chest.

Queen, depicting a mighty being and the secondary commander. It caused a change in him which was strangely transitional in my eyes, as though it had been designed for him. It bathed him a golden aura, granting his hazel and green eyes a brightened tint.

However, there remained a stark change to his body than which previously existed and it slipped a smile onto my lips.

"Welcome to my Suit of Hearts, little brother."

He had gained eight silver wings.

I sat on a couch that was settled opposite another with a logo stating 'Sigurd Institution' stitched into the headrest.

Earlier, I had flown to this hidden location which was built deep within a forested area and protected with barriers of various sorts. It's security was tight and strict, requiring that I be accompanied by a guard to the main building and subsequently this isolated booth.

It wasn't as grand as I expected an institution of the Church to be. Rather, it was standard with an extended territory that served as training area for many of the Exorcists. But they hid much more than they revealed to the world and Heaven itself.

The girl who stood before me was the irrefutable proof of that suspicion.

"It's an honour to meet you, Lord Shirō." She greeted passionately. "I go by the name of Lint Sellzen."

Oh.

Author's Note: We're back here with another instalment and before we head into the reviews, there are a few things I'd like to address.

Firstly, everyone has the freedom to critique in whichever way they see fit. But insulting me or other readers is a definite NO. That's not right at all. Aren't we all here for a good time?

Secondly, and most prominently, this story follows UBW Shirō. As such, everything that happened in canon remains true here. HOWEVER, he's been thrown into a challenging situation. People are subject to change, and while I can't claim to understand or relate to him, I'm trying to picture how he would act in such a situation.

Thirdly, is realism. Many characters in DxD canon are reincarnated with no adverse effects to them and that bothers me. In the case of Shirō, he has lived seventeen years as an average guy with some experience in Magecraft. But he's distorted. So, how would reincarnation into a righteous being coupled with his already existing trauma, memories of a future he could have had and the inexplicable nature of his abilities affect him? Unlike in canon, he did not have two years to recuperate and heal from the Holy Grail War. He endured eternity then was basically thrown into another war. As much as this is a journey to realise his ideals, he will face adversity when it comes to it. Just as Archer did in his timeline. But hopefully he will say "I was not wrong" just as his future-self did.

It is also the reason why I write this story mainly from his perspective so that you can put yourself in his shoes and wonder how you would tackle the troubles he may be facing. So, I do hope you guys understand that I'm not trying to turn him into something he is not. (PS: I'm really trying with the POV /)

On a much lighter note, did you enjoy the appearances of the other Seraphim and the leaders of the Church? Shirō's interaction with Sariel? Or the one with Ewald Cristaldi and Teodoro Legrenzi? Or was it the first scene with Gabriel and Ephraim that moved you? Let me know.

I based the appearances of Sariel from the Seven Deadly Sins, and Ephraim from Supernatural.

[03/24 Edit: I managed to complete this within three days. A new record if I do say so myself!]

Anyway, lets get into the actual reviews.

To Guest (1):

[I think Tobio isn't as OP as he should be because he faces human limitations. Though, sources say he's getting a buff in the next novel, so we'll just have to see if he will reach those levels of brokenness.]

To Server Lock:

[Just as I explained above, I'm well aware of that trope you dislike so much. Hell, so do I! But that really isn't what I'm trying to do here. We have seen two distinctly different Emiya Shirō in the UBW storyline, so we do know what they both are capable of being or becoming. In my initial response to your first review, I was going to mention Shinji. Shirō had reasons to save the guy despite not liking him at all, especially after all that he did. He helped save the guy but can we really say that he did not show bias? Because he's Sakura's brother? Shirō is also the same guy who fought with the intent to kill his teacher, someone he knew, because they had taken Saber. Now, I'm not saying that I have my own head canon on the guy, I'm trying to stick to what was portrayed of him. And as this is a story, and thus far we hadn't seen nor known what happened to him between his reincarnation and his reappearance in Kuoh, can we claim to know what he went through during that time? I'd like it if you continue to read this story, but if you do not wish to do so, then I can't force you.]

To wolfsrun:

[Yes! I mentioned realism above, yes? It is an unusual choice in fan fiction I guess, but I'm taking much from actual iterations of Christianity. Some do claim both Jesus and Archangel Michael to be one and the same.]

To ProminentDawn:

[Yes, that happened during the Civil War in this story at least. We don't get much about it in canon after all. And since we don't know when Sirzechs became a Super Devil, then we'll just assume that Gabriel was much stronger than the two.]

To reality deviant:

[Many of his actions are triggered by the situations he has found himself in in this world. And by mentioning how the Cherubim feel the same way, I alluded that it is because of his reincarnation.]

To Guest (2):

[You are right about the fandom being overridden with fanon but that is natural. Everyone falls in love with a character and has hopes that they can act in a certain way that they cannot. It's why we write fan fiction or make fan art of those characters in various situations. And yeah, Shirō's "self" is a bit wonky lol. But then, he himself is not really s ane.]

To TheStrangeCanadian:

[Ah, thank you for reading. I do intend to expand upon the other factions as well, though I did feel the need to focus on Heaven first. They are a tad ignored and underused by you-know-who.]

To Primus1661:

[Yes, of course. Are you familiar with Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen? Grayfia's ability is similar to the concept of Infinity in that when she utilises her Annihilation, she gains the ability of create a black hole, hence Katerea "collapsing" upon herself. Her Division by Zero in this case is used to blend Katerea with the air around her, effectively erasing her from existence, leaving "nothingness" behind because she cannot exist without a body or as the air itself.]

To Cyricist001:

[You're not wrong lol. Though, it is not that he came to terms with what death is, rather, that he isn't himself because certain factors are causing him to act unlike his usual self.]

To Guest (3):

[True, while Shirō at his core is the same person, each route of himself is different from the next. And yeah, Shirō is not neither atheistic nor agnostic, he just has faith in idealism because he was brought up by an idealistic individual. Shirō hasn't been corrupted. I wouldn't consider that as the proper term. He's affected by the sudden changes he has gone through over the last year (?) unlike Archer who went on and lived a somewhat different life to UBW Shirō. But he has lived countless lifetimes, so even a bit of that knowledge being acquired by his younger self is bound to affect him. Seeing the ideals that he strove for his entire life being thrown down the drain changed him in the future, yet we never get to find out how it changes him in canon. I think he should be allowed to be emotional because not once, but twice he has been saved by someone purely out of the goodness of their hearts. His change in biology allows him to understand emotions far better than he did as a human. Dare I say this Shirō is happier? He does show melancholy. He shows despair when his ideals clash against Archer, he even admits to his spirit being weak. In the Miyuverse route, he's even vindictive and ruthless to his foes. Shirō is many things but he is not unfeeling. He worries for other people more than he cares for himself or his well-being and that will always be both his finest strength and greatest weakness. This is a story that involves him tackling that weakness due to his ideals being tested over and over again.]

I feel like I'm fighting for my life sometimes lol. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. The scene is expanding and many more characters are still to be explored. Due to the lack of certain characters from some factions, I will be adopting a few from different universes or making them up as I go. Like Rachel. She seems like a nice girl.

I do hope that you have a blessed and most certainly a productive week.