A/N: Laziness is the devil's advocate, and unfortunately something I'm very intimate with.

When Shirou Emiya awoke that morning, everything felt fine. He ate and cooked his breakfast with a side of coffee, the apartment's water heater was finally fixed, and it was the day of the weapon exhibit in Akihabara, though that wouldn't happen till around four in the afternoon. With that in mind, Shirou was prepared for a rather calm day of advancing his skills when he found something that needed his full attention.

He ran out of cooking supplies. At that point, all other plans were secondary. Groceries were the immediate concern now.

Perhaps, Shirou was just unlucky that day. It wouldn't have made much of a difference from the norm, really. Still, who would expect that he would encounter something like this while buying groceries?

The thing in question was a large distortion in space, held seemingly aloft by marble pillars. Honestly, it reminded him of the Second Magic, though without the multitude of colors that accompanied it. That only made things worse. Had some Magus tried to mess with forces that were obviously beyond their capabilities again? If that was the case, then it looks like Enforcer Emiya was needed on the scene.

With a sigh, he dropped his heaved his groceries towards the nearest alleyway as inconspicuously as possible. He needed to do some recon, and possibly find the idiot that deemed this a smart idea. Shirou glanced around. Everyone was too focused on the distortion to look in his direction. Perfect.

"Trace, on."

The trigger in his mind slammed. With a flare of Prana, his legs were Reinforced to near-Servant levels. A hop upwards, and he was on the roof of the building. He looked back down the alleyway, almost forlornly.

Hopefully, his groceries would still be there when he came back.

Perhaps Shirou was just tired, but he couldn't help the frown of irritation that marred his face. The crowd around the distortion was growing by the second. Cameras were flashing all over the place, and his Reinforced eyes could see several news vans heading towards the scene. This was bad. Not even the Association can modify the memories of the internet.

He needed to stop this, right now. The amount of Prana building up in the air foretold how the Mystery was almost ready to be deployed. Yet, despite that, he couldn't find a hint of the Magus responsible. Were they in the buildings near the anomaly? If that's the case, it would prove more difficult to stop this, but not impossible. If all things were go to hell, he still had his trump card – Rule Breaker.

The only problem is that this would probably earn him a Sealing Designation if the secret of Magecraft were to be revealed to everyone. Most people would think twice before doing anything when they think of that, but Shirou wasn't most people. No, all he wanted to do was to save people, and if that meant painting a target behind his back, then so be it.

Perhaps Shirou was just imagining things, but had he just seen a man in Romanesque armor step out and back in through the distortion? This was now beyond bad. People had seen that, caught it on camera and spread to everyone they knew even.

The secrecy of Magecraft was the goal of the Enforcers, and if he were to fail in keeping everyone quiet, the others would have to act. Dozens to hundreds of people would be killed off silently, their identities wiped clean from every known database. People would die without anyone ever realizing it.

Shirou didn't want that. He could make up a story with about this being a movie set, but not if the Magus finally decides to act. It was nearly thirty minutes since the first appearance of the anomaly, and even from his view, he couldn't find the soon-to-be Sealing Designate. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice him from atop of the building despite there being at least five news stations covering the situation live.

He was now in his 'work clothes' as Rin had called them. Honestly, they reminded him a lot of Archer's armor during the War. The appearance of the possible scout set him on edge. He had heard from Lord El-Melloi II, as well as several journals of one Tokiomi Tohsaka, of a somewhat similar ability of the Iskandar, the Rider of the Fourth Holy Grail War.

Was this then an actualization of another irregular Reality Marble? Shirou wasn't sure, yet being on guard never hurt anyone.

Perhaps Shirou was just in shock, but when a large battlecry rang out, he hadn't drawn back his bow. Soon enough, hundreds of cavalrymen swarmed through the anomaly. The spectators didn't seem to understand what was going on, until the first few deaths via decapitation snapped them out of their confusion. Panic settled throughout everyone, Shirou included even as he fired arrows into the enemy. There were too many horsemen, and too many people to try to protect. People would die, and he wouldn't be able to anything about it.

While he instinctively knew that firing his arrows would spell death to anyone that gets hit by them, he also knew that these people were killing innocents left and right. He needed to prioritize the lives of the innocents. He didn't want to think like Archer, but for this, he didn't have a choice.

To save one person is to sacrifice another.

Shirou gripped his bow harder. He had vowed that he would never go down that path, yet Fate had other plans for him apparently.

This was war. The roar of the men behind you, the feeling of having fresh blood cling to your blade as it sliced through your enemies, the wind in your face as you rode to what could be the last fight you'll ever encounter. The pride that Tristan Cornwall felt for his men couldn't be expressed into mere words. They, the Imperial Army that is, hadn't been able to do anything but twiddle their thumbs for the past few months. Just the opportunity to spill blood was being honestly decided amongst the soldiers.

Still, Tristan couldn't help but feel uneasy about where they were. The enemy was advanced, obvious from the sheer size of the structures in the area. The fact that they hadn't encountered any resistance only added kindle to the burning sense of danger in his mind. You don't become a commander without honing some battle instincts after all.

It seems his fears were proven true as a hail of arrows assaulted the army.

"Archers! Shields up!" Tristan ordered the army, even as he himself held his greatshield in front of him. Damn, he was afraid of this. The structures were perfect spots for archers to fire arrows from, as they provided the bowmen the perfect height and cover advantage. Not only that, but it seems that the basic layout of this foreign land made it so that they would have to funnel through the streets, exposing them even further.

Thankfully, most of their shields were lined with runes made to reinforce their strength, "Forward! Don't let the enemy see weakness!" With a shout, the soldiers charged. Nothing would stop the Empire from conquering this country.

This was Tristan's last thought as an arrow burst open his shield and struck his head.

Perhaps Shirou was merely channeling his inner EMIYA as he struck down the invading army's apparent leader. He didn't like it at all, but he knew that it had to be done. With grim satisfaction, he watched as those nearest to his target immediately panicked.

He let loose a few more arrows into the wall of shields. Dozens were killed just from the shockwaves of his arrows. He didn't let up. By his estimations, there had to be at least a hundred thousand soldiers here. Despite his own admitted stubborn disposition, he wouldn't be able to incapacitate them all. No, he'd run out of Prana long before that. Of course, he could use an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, but the collateral damages would be too much. The best way to end this would be to destroy whatever Magecraft was bringing them here. For that ho-

Shirou's eyes widened as flying creatures flew out of distortion, each with a soldier riding on them.


They shouldn't be here-they couldn't be here. The Phantasmal Beasts were supposed to be long extinct. Yet, the roars and the flapping of wings shattered that preconception. Biting back a curse, Shirou redirected his aim towards the Beasts. This was beyond anything that he had expected. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something else that made him question the stupidity of mankind.

A news helicopter.

A goddamn slaughter was happening, and all they could think of was sending a news helicopter?

It seemed that he wasn't the only one that noticed the media. Several of the dragon riders had turned around and were heading straight for it. He drew back his bow as far as he could before stopping. His arrows wouldn't reach them in time. This was due to the inherent properties of his arrows; that they were still bound to the laws of mundane physics. Trying to fire an arrow that fast, at that distance would only vaporize the entire projectile. Had he been a Servant, then that wouldn't be a problem, as his arrows would then be fueled by his legend to beyond human capabilities.

He would have to use something else then.

"I am the bone of my sword."

Judging the concept of creation.

A sword born of the legend of a Hero of Old. Gifted in the hopes that it may be the tool to hunt down unholy beasts-to slay that which had slain so many others before him.

Hypothesizing the basic structure.

Though it may be a sword, it had been modified to suit the purpose he needed. Instead of an edge, the sword now held a twisted, almost menacing look, making it unwieldy for conventional sword techniques, yet perfect for piercing.

Duplicating the composition material

It was made of wrought iron, but the Magecraft grafted onto the blade made it nigh impossible to destroy.

Imitating the skill of its making

Though its forging process was lost to history, the process itself lied still within the blade. Forged by the best blacksmith at the time, through processes that even he couldn't fully understand, then enchanted by the greatest Magus in the land, the sword was supposed to be the pinnacle of blacksmithing. A sword fit for a king.

Sympathizing with the experience of its growth

Though the Hero only held it for a brief time, it was enough. The sword had done its job, leading the Hero towards the danger that loomed over the horizon.

Reproducing the accumulated years

It had lay broken in the lair of the monster it was supposed to slay for hundreds of years. Regardless, its brilliance shone through the days and nights, until the Magecraft holding it together finally faded, and with it, the blade was destroyed.

Excelling every manufacturing process

This was the sword that lead the Hero Beowulf to the Mother of Grendel. A sword whose name was passed down from generation to generation. It was…


"We're live in three, two, one."

"Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do."

"Uh, Kuribayashi-san?"

"Do, ti, la, so, fa, mi, re, do."

"Kuribayashi-san, we're live."

"WHAT! Oh, um," Nanami coughed into her hand as she blushed in embarrassment. Great, she just made herself the biggest laughingstock on live news. Normally, she would fuss about it even more, and to be honest, she had to restrain herself from doing so. The news came first.

"We're here live at Ginza to show to you what's been going on. As you can see, hundreds upon thousands of soldiers have been appearing through what early reports say to be a gate of some kind. The soldiers then proceeded to kill any and all people within the vicinity. As of right now, the amount of casualties is unknown."

Nanami was glad that she had memorized her script, as she had almost hitched as the helicopter dove in for a closer look. Her cameraman was having a field day it seemed.

"As you can see, almost all of the soldiers have weapons from the Medieval era, though why that is is also currently unknown. For now, all civilians in the area are ordered to head to the Imperial Palace for evacuation. I repeat, all civi..li..ans…" She dropped her mic. Her face turned from focused, if not slightly nervous, to complete terror.

"Kuribayashi-san? What's wrong?" Her cameraman whispered to her. He didn't see what she saw. Of course he wouldn't. He was too focused on getting that story.

"D-Dr-DRAGON!" She screamed as she pointed behind him. The cameraman whipped around, camera with him, to see a man riding a dragon, spear in hand. They were close, too close. The pilot seemed to notice that too. The helicopter swiveled as it tried to avoid the oncoming blow. The dragon merely slammed into the body.

"We're going down!"

Her cameraman cursed in frustration, "Can you get us down to safety?"

"The only place I can land this thing is on that building," the pilot gestured towards what looked to be an unfinished skyscraper, "Anywhere else, not so sure." The dragon was circling back around, and this time, it wasn't alone. There were around half a dozen dragons, each one of them as terrifying as the last.

"Fuck. Do it, just do it!"

With a wordless cry, they swerved downwards, but they wouldn't make it, Nanami was sure. The dragons were too fast. They would get to them before they landed. Hell, if they did manage to land, then what? They would just be sitting free food the moment they stepped out.

They would die here, this much she knew.

At least, that was what she thought before a red light streaked through the sky.

A flash, a blink, the sound of roaring. Then, nothing. The dragons were gone, just like that, "What…"

"Amazed, are you?" An unfamiliar voice resonated through the falling helicopter. Nanami turned. An old man in a suit sat down, far too calm for what was happening. The old man rolled his eyes, "Land this damn thing first and then we'll talk. I'm sure that you have a lot of questions."

Nanami could only nod.

Shirou sighed as Hrunting killed the dragons. Hopefully, they'd be able to land safely from that hit they took. Suspiciously though, the dragons had been felled quite easily. Had he underestimated the power of the Phantasmal Beasts? Shirou wasn't sure, but didn't want to take any chances, not with more lives on the line. Instead, he Traced another Red Hound, and aimed towards the rest of the dragons. With a breath the arrow Broke, and was fired upon the unsuspecting riders.

In an instant, another group of the Beasts were destroyed by the power of the Noble Phantasm.

This forced the remaining dragons to retreat into what Shirou was now sure to be a portal. At the same time, Shirou nearly collapsed from firing the Phantasm. The number of arrows he had fired beforehand, while keeping up his Reinforcement had barely dented his reserves. Two Broken Phantasms though? It was too much. Too much Prana, too much strain on his mortal body.

He'd be damned if this were to stop his goal.

"Steel is my body,"

While Shirou Emiya was not Counter Guardian EMIYA, Counter Guardian EMIYA was most definitely Shirou Emiya. It was inevitable then, that similarities would pop up, especially in their ideals. After all, if Shirou was merely a hypocrite for following his ideals to the letter, then what was EMIYA but the biggest hypocrite for following his ideals till it dragged him to damnation?

"Fire is my blood."

His muscles were reinvigorated, and his Circuits burned. His Aria had done the trick, it seemed. Shirou looked out to the city below. With a curse, he realized that while he was focused on the dragons, several cavalrymen had made it through the chokepoint. He wouldn't be able to fire upon them without risking innocents. He would need to engage them upfront. He didn't like it, as he could be seen and linked back to Magecraft, but there was no way that those dragons were somehow missed by the cameras. Magecraft would probably be revealed to the world within three days, knowing the internet.

To hell with it then. The bow vanished from his hands, and replaced by twin black and white, curved shortswords. He looked down to the ground below. Around forty meters away, a group of civilians were running for their lives, a member of the police force frantically shooting at a single horseman.

Shirou jumped down.

Was her mouth open? Nanami was sure her mouth was open. Her cameraman's mouth was open, so why wouldn't hers not be?

The old man who had said he'd explain things was sitting in a recliner (on the roof!), a smirk on his face. Magic-Magecraft-whatever it was called, was real? The old man rolled his eyes.

"What, you need more proof? I'm pretty sure those dragons would really like to reintroduce themselves."

Nanami fumbled with her microphone as she fumbled out a stuttering 'No'. They had caught everything on camera, from the man's explanation of Magecraft to his demonstration of said Magecraft. Though, he had said that it wasn't really Magecraft, but True Magic, even as he pulled out the recliner from a portal that looked to be a swirling mass of colors.

People would no doubt be skeptical about what they just heard, but social media would be rampant with her interview with the man in front of her – already was going by how much her phone was vibrating. Speaking of which, she had one question for him.

"Why would you tell us this?" The question left her mouth without the usual stutter or nervousness. She couldn't afford to be nervous now. The white-haired man shrugged in response, leaning back on his seat, "Honestly? I was bored."

The buzzing in her phone stopped as silence reigned. The man just revealed world-changing secrets because he was bored? Nanami must have voiced her opinion because the old man snorted his response, "Yep. I mean, I'm pretty sure that most people would get bored when they've seen every single possibility out there, just to stumble across something that hasn't happened anywhere else." The man looked up to the sky, "So, forgive me when all I wanted was for the plot to move forward without the entire 'explain this shit to these shitheads' over and over again."

"What the hell…'plot'? Is this some fucking story for you? People are dying left and right, goddamn dragons almost killed us, and you just want to advance some fucking 'plot'!?" Nanami's cameraman screamed at the man. She couldn't blame him. If she were more confident, she'd probably do the same.

The old man stood up, "Boy, do you even know what I mean by when I say anywhere else." He slapped his forehead, "What am I saying, of course you don't!" The man sighed as he relaxed back into his recliner, "Let me just tell you this, and this goes to every brat watching right now: When I say anywhere, I mean anywhere in the entire multiverse. I've lived for who knows how long, and this is the first time that – dare I say it – any Zelretch has seen this!" A throaty laugh escaped from the old man, which Nanami concluded to be this Zelretch, "Well, Magi of the world, cat's outta the bag. Better get to politicking your way out of this one."

"Then why save us?" The cameraman continued, undeterred from Zelretch's answer, to which said man merely raised a confused eyebrow, "If you're oh so powerful, why the hell would you save us? You could have done anything with that fancy magic of yours, probably better than us even."

Zelretch seemed to find what the cameraman was trying to say, "Oh, I didn't save you. I just hitched a ride on your helicopter. Man, how the hell you didn't notice me sitting there for over half an hour is beyond me." He gave a small, smug, mischievous smirk, "Nah, the guy you want is the one that's been shooting at the enemy for over twenty minutes now." He points in a seemingly random direction. Nanami follows it, and sees absolutely nothing.

"Right, your eyes aren't able to see that far." Zelretch mutters something to himself as he once more stands up and grabs the camera. He ignored the cameraman's prostest as the camera glows bright blue before fading. Zelretch hands back the camera to the still distraught cameraman.

"Try it now."

Suspicious of the old man, the cameraman slowly pointed the camera to the direction where he first gestured to. To both his and Nanami's shock, the camera was now zoomed in to view a man in black armor wielding a black bow almost taller than him, kneeling on the roof of a building. This was impossible. No camera should be able to do this. It was almost like…

Nanami felt silly. It wasn't like magic, it was Magic, with a capital M.

"Meet Shirou Emiya, probably the most reckless, altruistic idiot on this side of the world."

They watched as the red-clad man mutter something to himself. The bow disappeared, and in its place, were two swords. What were two swords going to do at that distance?

They got their answer as he abruptly dropped from the building he was on. Nanami heard a scream. Maybe it was hers, but she didn't care. The man who supposedly saved her just committed suicide. No one would survive from a fall from that height.

They watched him land on the ground as if it weren't made of solid concrete. How-

Right. Magic.

Perhaps Shirou didn't want to see them, but see them he did. Corpses. Piles and piles of corpses, both enemy and civilian, were strewn carelessly on the road. Victims. He pressed on, just like he did all those years ago.


Shirou didn't have to think before launching in the direction of the shout. There, two women, with a man on a horse right on their tail. He fueled more Prana into his legs, nearly tearing them in the process.


The enemy soldier went flying forward, his momentum carrying him right over the two women, who shrieked in surprise. Embedded in his back were the Married Blades, though the women didn't know that. Instead, they were focused on their savior, who was absentmindedly calming down the horse. Shirou cast a concerned glance at them, "Are both of you okay?"

They could only nod dumbly. The Magus smiled, "Then please, head to the nearest safe area. If I recall correctly, the police station is that way." With two stuttered 'Thank you's, the two were gone. His smile faded. There was, after all, more people that needed to be saved.

Plucking Kanshou and Bakuya from the still corpse, he started to make his way towards the more populated areas of the district.

His blades would get more than a taste of blood that day.

Lorelei Barthomeloi was rightfully pissed. She had just gotten word that a portal had opened up in the middle of Tokyo, and was now spilling out hordes of soldiers dedicated to killing everything they saw. She immediately called in an order to contain the area, to minimize the amount of witnesses that they had to 'silence'.

Then, the dragons came. People would inwardly say that the Vice Director looked shocked for but a moment when the news came. It went as fast as it came. Soon enough, new orders were delivered, this time to the best Enforcers that they could spare. They were to kill everything unaffiliated with the Mage's Association. They were to act as Counter Guardians, essentially, for the Clock Tower.

At least that was the plan, until even more news was stumbled upon. This time, it was of none other than Zelretch himself spreading his knowledge on Magecraft to the entire world. They wouldn't be able to contain this. The entire thing was broadcasted live for the world to see. While not everyone would have been watching at the time, it still left a healthy portion of the world knowing about the now open secret.

The worst part was because Zelretch was the one that did all the revealing, they couldn't even persecute him. If they even tried, he would probably kill them off while laughing in honest incredulity. No, even that scenario was farfetched. Instead, it was far more likely that if they were ordered to apprehend the Magician, most of Enforcers would abandon their post and flee for their lives.

Yes, Lorelei Barthomeloi was pissed, and she had every reason to be pissed. Without the Director, who was apparently taking an extended leave, all decisions would have to be made by her.

"Where is Emiya?" She ground out. Everyone in the meeting room gulped. It seemed that only Shirou Emiya was the one person that can calm down the Vice Director when she was in a rage, mostly due to his superb cooking skills. People would often joke about how Emiya and Lorelei were already married, with Emiya being the housewife. (Unbeknownst to them, Lorelei had heard each and every one of them, and inwardly admitted that she wouldn't mind being married to Emiya.)

Unfortunately, the man was on a paid leave right now, and would not be back for the next few weeks. Lorelei clicked her tongue as nobody said anything. She sighed in frustration. The situation was already dire, and without possibly the best Enforcer on her roster, the Clock Tower would have to prepare for the incoming witch burnings.

"I'm going to skin that Dead Apostle's hide." She murmured under her breath. There was no need for pride at this point. Pride would only get you killed, something that she personally learned from Emiya himself.

The doors burst open, and a messenger rushed in, pale-faced and out of breath.

"V-Vice Director, I believe that you'd want to see this."

When she got up to follow the messenger, she didn't expect to watch him frantically set up what she knew to be a television. The others behind her were unamused, going by the disgusted whispers. They were traditional Magi, after all, and while the Bartholmeloi were traditional, Lorelei could see the benefits of modern technology. Despite the opposition, the messenger tried to get the machine to work, muttering about having no signal here.

Finally, an image appeared. Said image only reinforced Lorelei's anger towards her fellow Wizard Marshall.

The image was that of a white-haired man fighting amongst a sea of armored soldiers.

The black and white blades sang of war that day, yet no satisfaction came from the wielder. How, after all, can one be happy with killing? Even though these people had kill innocents, a life for a life should not be how the world works.

Despite this, Shirou continued to kill. And kill. And kill.

It was completely against his nature to be a Hero of Justice, yet he still kept killing.

As the last horseman gurgled to his death, the blades fell from Shirou's hands. It was over. He looked over to the mass grave that was the street. Blood was splattered all across the hard concrete pavements, while some still moving bodies tried to unsuccessfully patch their wounds.

They'd be corpses soon enough.

Shirou looked upwards to the midday sun, his Reinforced eyes allowing him to stare endlessly. Is this what Archer had to go through for an eternity? Senseless violence for the survival of everyone else? Shirou knew that if this were to happen again, he would break. Sure, he had killed before, but those times were against things beyond human. These men, these people, didn't deserve this. His gaze slowly drifted back down, until he saw something in the distance.

Four people on a building. A man trying to fix a smoking helicopter, a cameraman pointing his camera directly at him, and an open-mouthed woman with a microphone dangling loosely with her arm. Had they recorded all of that? Normally, there wouldn't be a chance in hell that they'd manage to do that. He would have ignored them had it not for the one next to them.

The last person couldn't be truly called a person. After all, who in their right mind would call Zelretch a person?


The uncharacteristic curse spewed from his lips. Zelretch probably had something to do with this. He couldn't do anything, however, as the Magician held far more power than even a Servant like Saber. This must be exactly how Rin feels every time Zelretch does something.


Shirou's head snapped to his left. The Imperial Palace? What-

A hail of battlecries.

It hit him even as Shirou started to run towards the Imperial Palace: He hadn't managed to kill everyone, and now the mundane had interacted with the enemy, with violence it seems.

It took him not even a minute of sprinting to arrive at his destination. What greeted him was a hail of gunfire to the chest.

The white-haired man fell under the wall of soldiers. Itami sighed in relief at that. The man had appeared from almost thin air the moment the last of the cavalry fell. He had been worried that the man would suddenly do some weird anime-styled magic and kill them all. Thankfully, either he didn't cast anything, or magic was as vulnerable to bullets. Both thoughts eased his mind. Still, as Itami scoured the area, he couldn't help but compare it to the game he had just been playing.

A massacre. There was no other word for the death that he had witnessed.

"Check the bodies," ordered one of the soldiers, apparently the highest ranked one with how everyone deferred to him, "And if any are alive, take them to the medics to get patched up." No one argued with him, and no one questioned what they had to do the moment that they recovered. After all, questions needed to be answered, and only these guys had the solutions.

At least, that's what Itami thought.

Addressing him, the soldier spoke, "Sir, you best step back." Itami complied, seeing as this was technically his day off, and he wouldn't mind not doing anything. Despite his position in the military, he was still an otaku first and foremost.

The soldiers went to work, weapons still hot from the gunfire. They approached the bodies carefully, keeping all eyes on them. First body; dead, bullets had punched straight through his skull.

Second body; dead, bullets had seemingly torn through his side, reopening an old wound.

Third body; dead. As was the fourth, and fifth, and sixth, and so on. Fortunately, some of them had survived, though in very critical condition. They were immediately rushed to the holding cells where the medics would be awaiting their prisoners of war.

Finally, they came upon the body of the white-haired man. The bullets had hit his chest, but had failed to pierce the armor. Another soldier bent down to cautiously check his pulse.

A beat.

"Got another live one here!"

As a pair of soldiers came in, ready to heave the man, a twitch in the air caught Itami's attention. Unfortunately, the soldiers were too focused on the dead weight to notice it. Another twitch.

And a kaleidoscope of colors assaulted his vision.

Colors, colors as far as the eye can see. Never ending, but it had never started. Shapes that he couldn't comprehend, memories of himself that he had never remembered. Otherworldly creatures that burned his mind just from looking at them. An unending cacophony of chaosorderlifedeathjoysorrow -

Then, it was over. The colors faded back into nothing, and in its place, an old man, along with what looked to be a very dumfounded news crew. The soldiers shakily drew their guns. Clearly, they too had seen what Itami witnessed. He could feel his hands tremble, though for what reason, he couldn't accurately tell. It could have been fear, it could have been anticipation, but right now, that didn't matter.

What mattered now was the old man that was kicking the red-clad body.

"Get up, you lazy bum. I'm not paying you to lie around on the job."

"You're not paying me anything."

Everyone, save for the old man, looked on in disbelief. The white-haired man calmly opened his eyes as he sat back up. He had taken what looked to be at least a dozen bullets to the chest, yet here he was as if nothing had happened.

"Did you really have to record everything?" The red-clad man sighed in frustration, to which the old man shrugged.

"Come on kid, what's the fun in life if you don't live a little?" The old man replied, a grin spreading on his face, "Besides, don't tell me that those damn dragons wouldn't have revealed everything eventually. I just sped up the process."

The darker skinned of the two crossed his arms in irritation, though didn't say anything else. The camera crew was busy still filming the entire interaction. For a moment, his eyed the camera as if he wanted to destroy it, that is until his eyes caught that of the older man's. He turned away. He stared at the corpses in front of him. His eyes hardened as he turned to face another direction.

"I'll be off then. That anomaly needs to be righted." As he started his stride in another direction, he was stopped by the older man as a cane was lifted to block the white-haired man's path.

"Emiya, if you're about to do what I know you're about to do, don't. You'll regret it for the rest of your life." The newly named Emiya frowned in response. Itami meanwhile was still trying to process what was happening.

What in the hell were these guys talking about?!

Perhaps Shirou was pissed off at Zelretch, but despite this, he couldn't do anything against the might of the Magician. What the Dead Apostle Ancestor just said had proven his fears true. While mischievous, Zelretch still had the best intentions for humanity as a whole. It took to reason then, that when Zelretch warns someone, then you should abide by it.

When he realized that there were no more enemies in sight, Shirou deigned to destroy that blasted anomaly once and for all. He had grasped the weapons within the Gates of Babylon, and as such, he had a multitude of Noble Phantasms suited for the job.

Still, the anomaly was pushing out too much power in very short period of time. He had feared that had he hit them with any of his Anti-Magic Noble Phantasms, then that power would become completely unstable as they tried to escape through the gap, most likely in the form of a large explosion.

Damn. What to do now? He couldn't just leave it to the hands of the mundane. They had no idea how to handle this!

"Oh, just leave it to these guys. They can handle it."

By the Root, did Shirou hate Zelretch right now.

Meanwhile, the quaint atmosphere of Fuyuki City was broken by eerily similar shouts.


A/N: Sorry for that rather long almost-hiatus of not posting. A mixture of laziness + school + personal problems hit me in the face for the past few months, and aren't stopping yet it seems. Updates will be slow still, unfortunately.

That said, have my first non-Fate/Overwatch Crossover, and it's even multi chaptered! Why'd I do this, you may ask? Well, Gate has interested me for a while, and the concept of travelling to a parallel world was too similar to the Kaleidoscope for me to not run with it. Also, if you review and want an answer, can you please, please, PLEASE use your account and not a guest account? It's really difficult to answer when I'm writing an Author's Note. That said, I am not opposed to anonymous reviews, so they'll still be up.

Disclaimer: I own jack shite.