Chapter 1

The weather was calm, and the clouds shielded the city of Fuyuki from the sun's blinding rays. Overall, it was a beautiful day outside; birds are singing, flowers are blooming... on days like these, I usually spend it at home either tinkering with my father's tools or doing something else. Not today, however; I had promised a friend of mine to help them with something.

I dropped my gaze, paying attention on the road ahead. I pedaled, weaving through the afternoon traffic with ease and arrived at my destination not long after. Dismounting my bike, I secured it on a nearby rack and sauntered into the back of a cozy establishment called 'Copenhagen', a bar turned restaurant after I started helping out some years ago. I was not employed here, but I was allowed entry by the workers nonetheless due to my close relationship with them.

"Ah, Shirou-kun, you're here. Good to see you," a woman with black, shoulder-length hair greeted me as I entered the kitchen. "Thanks in advance for helping us with this again. I'll make sure to give you some extra after, okay?"

"Hello Shizune-san," I returned with a slight bow. Shizune is an old friend of mine and the owner of this place. "It's no problem. I said I was going to help, and I'm not one to break promises."

"Oh, I know you're not that kind of person, everyone does," she giggled. "Anyways, everyone out there is eager to taste the Miracle Chef's cooking. So, chop-chop!"

"Please don't call me that, it's just embarrassing." I scratched the back of my head, an awkward look on my face.

Patting my shoulder reassuringly, she left the space to receive the sudden influx of customers pouring into the restaurant. A sigh left my lips as I turned around and began navigating the kitchen with familiarity.

I was well aware of my reputation around town as a skilled chef, it was hard not to when I get harassed every so often for my "secret recipes". I knew my culinary abilities were above average, but being dubbed the "Miracle Chef" by the locals felt like an overstatement. After all, it was just food—anyone could make the same dishes if they took the time to learn, much like I did.

Time whizzed by as I prepared plate after plate. Every so often, Shizune would come in, stick some orders on the table, then leave with the prepared meals just as quickly without breaking rhythm. Glancing at the list on the desk, I started preparing another set of ingredients on the board.

As I flipped the sizzling patties on the grill, my vision flickered for just a brief moment. It was swift, barely more than an instant, but enough to snap me out of my trance. Then, just as suddenly, a sharp wave of pain crashed through my head. I froze, nearly dropping the spatula in my grasp.

'What...?' My thoughts blurred as I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to steady myself.

Shaking it off, I forced myself to continue. But as time passed, the headache only worsened, growing unbearable. Eventually, I had no choice but to step away and rummage through a cupboard filled with medical kits for medicine. Swallowing the tablet didn't bring relief, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through, enduring until the afternoon rush finally ended.

As I drank some water to cool myself down, Shizune came through the entrance and immediately noticed something was wrong.

"Are you alright, Shirou-kun?" she asked, concerned.

"If I'm being honest, no," I replied simply. "I don't know what happened, but my head hurts a lot all of the sudden."

"Oh my, I'm so sorry about this...," Shizune uttered, sounding guilty for some reason. She was probably blaming herself for whatever's happening to me.

"What are you apologizing for? Don't worry, it's probably just a fever. With a bit of rest, it'll go away in no time," I said, hoping to soothe her worries.

"I'll take it over from here. You should go home and take a break. Don't push yourself, alright?" she stated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Yeah... that's probably for the best," I nodded.

Leaving the establishment, I unlatched my bike from its spot, but didn't get on it immediately. I was not confident in my ability to wade through the streets in my current condition, so I decided to walk the distance instead.

Along the way, I encountered some teens in uniforms—students of Homurahara High School—on their way back home, some in groups, some in their lonesome.

Suddenly, my vision flickered once more. This time, instead of utter darkness, I found myself inside Homurahara's Student Council office, sitting beside a blue-haired young man wearing a pair of glasses. I stilled, still processing the images flowing through my head.

I never went to high school, being mostly home-schooled, let alone been inside Homurahara, so how did I recognize that place? And who was that four-eyed kid? Was I hallucinating, perhaps? If so, then why? I made sure to keep track of my diet and kept myself at top shape, rarely doing anything detrimental to my health since Kiritsugu, my father, passed away over five years ago.

Once again, a sharp wave of pain tore through my head, accompanied by a barrage of scenes, both familiar and foreign. My vision hazed, and before I knew it, I had stumbled into a secluded alleyway, hidden from the bustling streets.

My bike fell over to the side, striking the ground with a clatter. Struggling to balance myself, I used the walls for support, hand clasped around my head.

'What is this? What is happening to me?' I asked, desperate for an answer, but nothing responded.

I shook my head, knowing for a fact this wasn't normal. With a thought, my magic circuits hummed to life, scanning my body for any form of abnormalities. Kiritsugu had taught me a variety of things during our time together. One of those being a spell to quickly assess one's physical condition for anything harmful, such as poisonous substances and whatnot.

The spell finished soon after, but came out empty-handed, finding nothing wrong with my body.

'A curse, maybe?' I rationalized. I've come across a fair share of curses in my life, so I quickly performed another scan for any malignant traces. But much like earlier, no anomalies was found, confounding me even further.

My breath hitched as a flood of dream-like visions surged through my mind. No... these weren't mere daydreams or mere illusions. They were memories... my memories. Or at least, they should have been. Most of them revolved around a brutal blood sport known as the Heaven's Feels ritual and my struggles to survive it.

In one vision, I embarked on a hopeless quest to find a utopia that may never be found. In another, I stood face to face with the harsh reality of my ideals and its consequences. And in the last... I abandoned my dreams entirely to save the one person who mattered most to me.

But... none of it made sense. I had no recollection of doing any of this. Hell, I never even entertained a dream as foolish as the 'me' from these visions. It was madness. To dedicate one's life in order to create a world where no tears would be shed was sheer, undeniable madness. The only thing you'd accomplish with this is realize how imperfect we humans truly are.

Not everyone can be saved—only those who can be, the ones who've already suffered. Kiritsugu had made sure I understood that fact, drilling that lesson into my head during our journey across the globe, a journey meant to help as many as we could from the cruelty of this world.

Then there were some memories I could not make sense of, no matter what angle I viewed it from. I witnessed the birth of a star, millennia passing in the blink of an eye. Entire civilizations rose and fell, their legacies vanishing into dust.

And finally, I saw a war—one so vast it erased countless worlds from existence. It was perplexing, to say the least. What could any of this possibly have to do with me? How did I, of all people, suddenly get involved in an intergalactic war?

Suddenly, a footstep broke me out of my stupor. Turing to the side, I saw a figure dressed in all gray, their face covered by a medical mask. Judging from their build, this person was undoubtedly a male. He made his way towards me, keeping his silence as he did so. My instincts flared as I jumped to my feet, tense.

Did he have something to do with what's happening to me? A person suddenly approaches me just as I was going through some sort of acid trip, surely that's not a coincidence. As if to confirm my thoughts, he raised hand hand, heading straight for my collar.

Okay, definitely suspicious. You don't just enter an aisle with a not-so-lucid person inside and immediately gun for their shirt. Letting my instincts take over, I dashed forward without much of a warning, took hold of his arm, then threw the man over my shoulder before he could react.

A muffled groan escaped his mouth as he was slammed into the pavement. My mind might be in absolute shambles, but that doesn't mean I was entirely defenseless.

Pinning him down with my left knee, I spoke in a demanding voice. "Who are you and what do you want?"

Before I could get an answer, something solid struck the back of my head with a sharp 'tink' that echoed through the alley. A split second later, the ground rushed up to meet me, and I collapsed, my body sprawled out as the man beneath me scrambled free.

"Shit!" the masked man cursed, clutching his arm. "You said he was just some rich kid, I didn't know he could fight! I think my arm got dislocated from that."

"Doesn't matter. Just take his stuff and leave, quickly," another voice cut in, cold and impatient.

Blinking through the haze, I turned my gaze and spotted the second attacker—a figure gripping a metal pipe, the weapon still faintly trembling from the impact. There were two of them.

Tunnel-visioned, I had failed to check my surroundings, a fatal blunder caused by my deteriorating state of mind. I willed myself to move, to rise, but my body remained lifeless, unresponsive to my commands. That strike to the back of my head had completely paralyzed me from the neck down.

Slowly but surely, my vision began to fade as the pair of muggers searched my body for anything of value, eventually digging out my wallet and other personal belongings... which wasn't much. I never had the habit of bringing more than what's necessary on me. From this interaction alone, I realized none of them were practitioners of the mystic arts—they were ordinary humans.

Really... after everything I've been through, this is how I fall? With one final, drawn-out breath, my eyes shut close, and darkness swallowed me whole.

Yet, instead of awakening in the afterlife, I regained my senses suspended in the boundless void of space, my body no longer that of flesh and blood, but of pure energy.

My gaze swept across the expanse, drinking in the flickering stars strewn across the cosmos like jewels on an infinite canvas, a masterpiece seemingly painted for me alone. And within the silence of the void, I could hear it: the distant whispers of celestial bodies murmuring in languages not meant to be understood by mortal ears was like music to mine.

Then, it came—a tidal wave of emotion crashing into my very soul. Entire planets greeted me, their presence warm and welcoming. Some rejoiced, others sighed in relief, as though they had long awaited my arrival. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I was truly alive, a stark contrast to the brink of death I had teetered on mere moments ago.

Lowering my gaze, I noticed something drifting toward me—an object, oval in shape, gliding steadily through the abyss. It was a mirror, but no ordinary one. Its surface shimmered with the essence of entire galaxies, reflecting not just light, but dimensions both material and immaterial alike.

It was the ultimate masterpiece of an ancient being, forged from substances beyond ordinary and special, crafted from the very fabric of space itself. It was a tool that allowed one to travel past the borders of their own reality and navigate the passage of time with terrifying ease, opening gateways to all sorts of places.

The Magic Mirror.

Its name was simple, unassuming, but it needed no grand title. It stood beyond the realm of mortal comprehension, its capabilities unchallenged since the moment of its conception. It did not seek validation, it simply is.

Raising a hand, I summoned it with but a thought. It obeyed instantly, leaping toward me like a loyal hound reunited with its master.

A soft smile graced my lips as the Magic Mirror danced around my phantom-like frame before melting into my very being, becoming one with me once again.

END.