Lost access to my files for a while. And things have been hectic due to my parents being the victims of car accidents. Short chapter, but couldn't really think of anything else to put in since it's literally just the group heading over to the caverns. Plus, I want the fight against Gil to have its own dedicated chapter.

Fate/Hijacked

Chapter 24

As they moved through the dimly lit streets of Fuyuki, Lady Avalon stayed close to Shirou, her slender arm looped through his. She hummed softly, a mischievous smile on her lips as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Her white hair was left loose as usual and cascaded down in soft waves, catching the moonlight as they moved silently through the shadows toward Ryuudouji Temple. In complete contrast to everyone else in the group, with their more serious and firm expressions.

"You're so tense, darling," she whispered, her voice a playful tease in his ear. "You should relax a little. It's not good to go into battle all wound up."

Shirou tried to ignore the flutter in his chest, focusing instead on the mission at hand. "I don't think this is the time to relax," he said, though his voice faltered slightly as her fingers lightly trailed along his forearm.

"Oh, come now. You've got me, after all," she teased, her smile widening as she pressed a little closer to him. "You don't need to worry when I'm around, you know." She flashed him a coquettish smile and added in a sultry tone, "Who knows, maybe after we win, you can thank me properly~"

Archer, walking slightly ahead as the point man, glanced over his shoulder at them with an exasperated sigh. "Can you stop distracting him, Pretender? We're about to face Gilgamesh and Kirei. This isn't exactly a date."

Lady Avalon giggled softly but didn't pull away from Shirou. "Oh, Archer, you're no fun," she replied with mock disappointment. "A little flirting never hurt anyone."

Shirou felt his cheeks warm, but he managed to keep his focus. "We need to stay focused," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

With a smirk, Lady Avalon finally relented and moved her hand to gesture in front of them. "Very well, then. I suppose I'll help you out."

She raised her hands and summoned a shimmering aura of energy around the group, her Succubus Ridge skill activating. The air around them briefly shone with mana, their defences becoming fortified and their muscles charged with new strength. Shirou could feel the boost almost immediately, his magic circuits responding to the influx of mana.

"There we go," Lady Avalon said with a satisfied smile, her fingers brushing Shirou's arm lightly as she stepped back. "You're all a little tougher now. Though I'll admit," she added, lowering her voice again, "you're already tough enough for me."

Shirou gave her a sideways glance, feeling his resolve waver slightly under her constant flirting. But he pushed those thoughts aside. They had more important matters to deal with.

Rin rolled her eyes at the scene unfolding in front of her, muttering under her breath, "I swear, if she weren't so damn useful, I'd knock her out myself."

The plan was simple in theory but incredibly dangerous in practice. Shirou and Archer would face off against Gilgamesh together, using their similar abilities to counter the King of Heroes' Gate of Babylon and devastating arsenal. Lady Avalon would provide backline support, keeping them alive and empowered. Meanwhile, Rin, Illya, and Lancer would move on ahead to confront Kirei Kotomine, hoping that the Irish spearman could decisively put an end to the twisted priest. The corrupted Grail was a problem they would address after dealing with the immediate threats.

As they neared the cavern beneath Ryuudouji Temple, the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive. The air was thick, almost tangible, with a sinister energy that set Shirou's nerves on edge. It felt as though Angra Mainyu was straining to exert its presence, the malevolent entity trapped within the Grail stirring restlessly in a bid to manifest itself sooner. Yet, with several Servants still active and not absorbed into the Grail's core, Angra Mainyu's vessel was incomplete, its power not yet capable of being fully unleashed.

The cavern opened up before them, a yawning abyss of darkness illuminated only by the faint, eerie glow of the mana surging within the earth. And there, standing in their path like an immovable wall, was Gilgamesh, the golden King of Heroes.

He gazed down at them with his trademark sneer of disdain, his crimson eyes gleaming with contempt. "So, the mongrels have finally arrived," he remarked, his voice dripping with arrogance. His gaze flicked from one face to the next, stopping on Archer with a raised brow. "Ah, the Faker survived. How aggravating. And the mutt has switched sides. We should have expected as much from a dog."

Lancer's eyes narrowed at the insult, but he remained silent, his spear held at the ready.

Gilgamesh let out a bored sigh. "No wonder Kirei cannot properly manifest the Grail," he continued. "With three Servants still active, the ritual remains incomplete. You mongrels are being nothing but a hindrance."

With a wave of his hand, Gilgamesh casually opened his Gate of Babylon. Golden portals shimmered into existence around him, a few swords and spears floating ominously in the air, aimed at the group.

Shirou stepped forward, readying himself as he activated his magic circuits and used his tracing ability. His eyes captured every detail of the opposing weapons, their history flowing into his reality marble. Matching weapons materialized in the air above him—traced copies of the very weapons Gilgamesh was about to unleash. As the first volley of projectiles came hurtling toward them, Shirou launched his traced blades, deflecting the incoming attack with a practiced precision developed from Archer's intensive training sessions.

Gilgamesh's expression twisted into one of anger as he observed what Shirou had just done. "Another Faker?" he spat, his eyes narrowing. "Insolent mongrel, you dare make inferior forgeries of the King's treasures?!"

Ignoring the insult, Shirou took a deep breath, his eyes steady and focused. "Go on ahead, everyone," he said calmly. "Archer and I can handle this." Gilgamesh scoffed angrily, but made no sign of stopping anyone, his irate gaze fixed firmly on the two Fakers.

Rin hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting between Shirou and the imposing figure of Gilgamesh. But she quickly realized that this was the best chance they had. "Don't you dare die," she said, her voice firm but tinged with worry.

Illya, her expression serious, nodded at Shirou. "We're counting on you. Don't mess this up. We'll be waiting for you both further inside."

With that, Rin, Illya and Lancer sprinted ahead, moving deeper into the caverns toward their confrontation with Kirei. Gilgamesh, for his part, didn't even glance in their direction, his attention fully focused on Shirou and Archer.

Lady Avalon clapped her hands together, an excited grin spreading across her face. "It's showtime~!" she sang out, the air around her shimmering with mana as she began to weave her support spells. She stepped back, maintaining a relatively safe distance while still keeping herself close enough to effectively provide assistance as and when needed.

Shirou and Archer, now standing side by side, summoned their preferred twin blades; Kanshou and Bakuya. The curved swords materialized in their hands with a flash of magical energy, the familiar weight grounding them as they prepared for the coming battle.

Gilgamesh sneered, his fingers twitching as more weapons emerged from the Gate of Babylon. "To think I must waste my time on such lowly fakers," he said coldly. "I shall take great pleasure in erasing you both."

Omake

Throne of Heroes: Artoria's Wrath, Part 24

The Throne of Heroes was a place beyond time and space, a realm where the greatest legends of humanity resided, their stories immortalized for eternity. However, on this particular occasion, the usually serene atmosphere of the Throne was shattered by the uncharacteristic fervour of one of its most renowned inhabitants: Artoria Pendragon, the Once and Future King of Britain.

Her normally stoic expression was replaced with one of fiery determination, her emerald eyes blazing with an intensity that could rival the sun. Artoria's hands tightened into fists, her knuckles turning white. "That arrogant fool," she muttered under her breath, her voice low but brimming with barely restrained anger. "He dares to look down on Shirou as if he were a mere insect... How dare he!"

The Knights of the Round Table, who had been lounging nearby in various states of repose and sharing quiet discussions amidst themselves regarding the upcoming clash, immediately perked up at the sound of their king's outburst.

Lancelot was the first to approach, his brow furrowed in concern. "My king," he began cautiously, "is something amiss? You seem... unusually agitated."

Artoria didn't even glance at him, her gaze fixed on the scene unfolding in the world below. "Agitated? No, Lancelot. I am incensed! That golden buffoon dares to belittle Shirou, and Archer too I suppose, derisively calling them fakers and mongrels! He has no idea the strength they possess, the resolve they carry! Someone needs to teach him a lesson, and I am more than happy to cheer them on!"

Gawain looked up with a mixture of amusement and confusion. "My liege, I've never seen you so... passionate about someone else's battle."

Artoria's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a rare, almost feral smile. "What has gotten into me, Gawain, is the desire to see that insufferable king humbled. He has always looked down on others, believing himself to be above all. But Shirou and Archer—they are different. They fight not for glory or pride, but for the people they care about and their own ideals. They are the true heroes here, and I will not stand idly by while Gilgamesh mocks them!"

She raised her hand, and in a flash of light, Excalibur materialized in her grasp. The legendary sword glowed with a radiant light, its divine aura filling the surrounding area.

The knights stared in disbelief as Artoria began to wave Excalibur in the air, the blade glowing like a beacon. "Go, Shirou! Show him the strength of your ideals! Archer, prove to him that even a faker can surpass the original!" she cheered, her voice ringing with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. "Crush him, Shirou! Teach that arrogant fool a lesson he will never forget!"

The Knights of the Round stared at their king in stunned silence, their expressions ranging from bewilderment to outright horror.

Mordred's jaw dropped. "Father, are you... using Excalibur as a bloody light stick?!"

Artoria paused mid-cheer, glancing at Mordred with a blank expression. "Are you really going to tell me that's inappropriate?"

Bedivere stepped forward with a troubled countenance. "My king," he said carefully, "perhaps it would be more... dignified to offer your support in a less... exuberant manner?"

Artoria paused mid-cheer, her sword still raised high, and turned to glare with the might of a thousand dragons at Bedivere. "Dignified? Bedivere, that man has spent centuries looking down on everyone he encounters. He has insulted me, my knights, and now he dares to insult Shirou. Dignity has no place in this matter. What he needs is a good thrashing, and I sincerely hope to see that he gets it!"

Omake 2: Golden Epilogue life

Shirou Emiya was no stranger to the strange. His life had long since passed the point of normalcy, having been dragged through a war of mythical proportions, standing against corrupted spirits, and surviving battles that should have left him dead a dozen times over. But even with all that experience, he was still struggling to fully process the absolute absurdity of his current living situation.

A very affectionate half-succubus Merlin variant, a dignified yet undeniably thirsty Queen Morgan, a gentle yet fiercely protective knight bearing the name Avalon, and a tsundere Mordred who had apparently decided that he was her mother—all now lived under his roof.

And Shirou was expected to manage them.

God help him.

Shirou had always been an early riser. Years of cooking for Fuji-nee, Sakura, and the occasional guest had made waking up before the sun a habit he couldn't break. But today, something was… different.

For one, he hadn't woken up on his own.

Rather, he was woken up by something warm nuzzling against him. Something very soft and very persistent.

"Mmm… morning, darling~" came the familiar purring voice of Lady Avalon, her breath tickling his ear as she stretched against him, pressing herself snugly to his side.

Shirou's entire body tensed. "Lady Avalon—"

"Mmm~ What's this? No cute morning greeting for your beloved Servant?" she teased, shifting so that she was half-draped over him, her white hair spilling over his shoulder. Her mischievous pink eyes sparkled with amusement.

Shirou tried to escape, but that only resulted in her snaking her arms around him more tightly. "Darling~, are you really going to leave me all alone in this big, cold futon? So cruel…"

"I'm not leaving you, I'm getting up to make breakfast," Shirou said, attempting to will himself free.

Lady Avalon let out a long, faux sigh, dramatically resting her forehead against his chest. "I suppose that's acceptable. Only because your cooking is worth it…"

Shirou carefully extracted himself, hoping to slip away before she decided to cling to him again. He barely managed to get to his feet before a knock at the door made him freeze.

"Oi! Mama, are you up? I'm starving!" came Mordred's impatient voice from the hallway.

Before he could answer, the door was pretty much slammed open, revealing his resident red-clad gremlin standing there with her arms crossed, an eager grin on her face. "Oh good, you're awake! C'mon, let's eat already—"

She paused, eyes shifting from Shirou to the figure still sprawled in the futon. Mordred's nose wrinkled in visible distaste.

"Tch! You again! Stop hogging Mama first thing in the morning, you damn leech!"

Lady Avalon merely smirked from her comfortable position. "Oh, my dear Mordred, are you jealous? Do you want some morning cuddles from Mama too~?"

Mordred's face exploded into a shade of crimson. "S-Shut up! As if I'd—"

Shirou sighed, rubbing his temples. "Mordred, I'll make breakfast in a minute, just—"

"Mmm… What's with all this noise?"

A new voice entered the fray as Avalon sleepily poked her head in, blinking at the scene before her. Her golden hair, streaked with deep cobalt blue, was slightly dishevelled, and she rubbed at her eyes before focusing on Shirou.

Then, she gradually but noticeably brightened.

"Shirou," she greeted with an adorably sleepy smile, stepping into the room and immediately moving to his side. "Good morning." She punctuated the greeting with a gentle hug.

"Good morning, Avalon," Shirou replied, relaxing slightly. Avalon was the least chaotic of the four. Something he was immensely thankful for.

Before anything else could be said, a final, more regal voice spoke from just outside the doorway.

"My, my. It's far too early for such noise."

Morgan entered the room with all the grace and poise of a queen… who had just woken up. Despite her dignified posture, there was a slight haze to her emerald eyes, and her pale blonde hair was slightly tousled. Unlike the others, she was already dressed in an elegant silk robe, though it was clear she had only just risen.

Her gaze settled on Shirou. More specifically, on his state of dress.

Or lack thereof.

Shirou, still only in his tousled and partially unbuttoned sleepwear, suddenly felt very, very self-conscious as Morgan's eyes lingered.

"A good morning indeed," she murmured, voice smooth and considering.

Lady Avalon, still lying lazily in the futon, snickered. "She's thinking about jumping you, darling~."

Morgan shot her a scathing look before returning her attention to Shirou. "I will require tea before breakfast," she stated before turning on her heel and walking away.

Shirou sighed. This was his life now.

Breakfast was a trial. For various reasons.

Shirou, ever the diligent chef, had prepared a spread to accommodate everyone's tastes. Pancakes for Mordred, herbal tea and fruit for Morgan, a hearty meal of eggs and beans with toast for Avalon, and for Lady Avalon…

Well. Lady Avalon insisted that Shirou hand-feed her. And vice versa.

"Mmm, open wide, darling," she cooed, holding a bite of toast towards his lips.

Shirou stared at her in mild protest, slightly flustered. "I can feed myself."

"Ah-ah, don't be shy, now," she teased, waving the food temptingly.

Across the table, Mordred made a gagging noise. "I swear if you two keep flirting at the table—"

Morgan, sipping her tea with elegance, did not comment. But Shirou could see the subtle twitch of her brow. Avalon, on the other hand, simply giggled.

"Shirou, it's alright," Avalon said, her blue eyes filled with amusement. "This is just how she is."

Shirou, sighing, relented and took the bite.

Lady Avalon's pink eyes sparkled with mischievous delight. "Good boy~."

Mordred slammed her head against the table. "Shameless wench..."

Despite the absolute chaos that the morning had been, Shirou found that the rest of the day was surprisingly… peaceful.

Morgan, despite her haughty nature, took an interest in the house's magical defences, spending time weaving additional wards around the property. Avalon, meanwhile, quietly followed Shirou into the backyard, watching with gentle patience as he practiced with his swords. She didn't offer instruction—she just watched, supportive and serene.

Mordred, of course, spent most of her time either trying to drag Shirou into sparring with her or eating the snacks he had prepared. She had, at one point, flopped dramatically onto the couch and declared:

"Mama, feed me snacks and tell me I'm a good daughter."

Shirou had simply sighed and passed her a plate of sweets. "You're a good daughter, Mordred."

Mordred had beamed. "Damn right I am!"

And Lady Avalon… Well. She was still a half-succubus.

At some point during the evening, she had draped herself across Shirou's lap like a lounging cat, arms around his waist, face resting against his stomach.

"Mmm… You're comfy, darling," she purred.

Shirou sighed deeply, but didn't push her away. He had long since learned that trying to escape her was futile.

Mordred however glared. "Oi! Get off Mama, you damn leech!"

Lady Avalon merely grinned. "Make me, little girl~."

Morgan, observing from her seat, smirked at the developing spat before sipping her tea.

Avalon just smiled softly, watching them all with warmth.

And Shirou, trapped between a succubus, a queen, a knight, and a daughter with boundary issues, could only groan in a weary manner.

Maybe this was chaos the likes of which he'd never get truly used to dealing with.

But at the same time… maybe it wasn't so bad.