Witness to a Miracle
By: James D. Fawkes

III: Impassion and Devote
— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt Zerbst was very well-known at Tristain's Academy of Magic.

Depending upon your perspective, you might say she was well-known for all the wrong reasons. Her female classmates could only describe her as a harlot and a scarlet woman. She was everything a proper girl, a proper noble, and most importantly, a proper heir, should not be, at least by Tristainian standards. It was little wonder most of them wanted nothing to do with her.

If you asked her male classmates, though, all you'd get would be glowing praises and serenades to her charm and beauty — and, far more likely, to her cup size and neckline.

Teenage boys, Kirche would tell you, and even older men, were very easy to please.

In case it wasn't clear, Kirche had a lot of experience in matters of physical intimacy. In fact, there probably wasn't a woman in Tristain who had been around as much as she had, and by her own estimates, of her male classmates considered to be of the age of consent, about ninety percent had managed to make their way into her bed at some point or another, and about thirty percent of the females.

If asked to describe her in one word, most of her conquests would say, "Insatiable."

And Kirche's favorite phrase? "Fire is passion."

Quite literally, Kirche loved making love.

Of course, it wasn't, as some of her classmates might suggest, that Kirche enjoyed sex that much — although it was certainly fun if her partner knew what to do and where to touch. It was more like Kirche embodied passion as a concept, and it was just that the physical and emotional highs that came with sex were the most passionate states she could reach.

To boil it all down, it wasn't the sex itself that Kirche most enjoyed, it was the passion and the excitement that went into the act of sex that gave Kirche an almost indescribable high.

For that matter, before anything physical could even start, there were certain prerequisites her prospective partner had to have, or else she wouldn't even consider them. If they couldn't light her spark, if they couldn't fan her flames, if they couldn't start a fire in her belly from a simple kiss, then they weren't worth her time.

If Kirche knew anything about Origins, then she might have wondered if her own was the reason why she could only find temporary satisfaction.

In regards to Louise's familiar, Kirche hadn't really felt anything. Sure, he had a powerful, overwhelming sort of presence to him — at least, to those who knew what to look for — but so did all of the knights (common-born or Noble) that Kirche had ever met, and aside from his dark skin, his mottled hair, and his somewhat outdated clothing, he wasn't really all that special looking, either. A bit exotic, maybe, but no more so than Kirche herself seemed to the Tristainians, which made him even less so to Kirche.

So when he rejected her the first time, she wasn't really hurt or insulted — it was just some harmless flirting, anyway — and when Guiche challenged him to a duel, she thought, like all of her other classmates, that it would be the simple case of a Noble thrashing a commoner. Not especially classy, perhaps, and maybe a bit cruel, but Guiche, for all his flamboyance and arrogance, was actually one of the more powerful boys in the Academy, and it was always thrilling for Kirche to feel the crackle of magic in the air.

That, and Guiche, for all that he was a playboy, happened to be among the ten percent of the boys who had not yet become a notch on her bedpost.

To get a rare taste of one of the strongest boys in her age group, that was reason enough for Kirche to show up and watch. To get a taste of one of the few boys whose flesh she had yet to experience, that was a good motivator, too. The amusement of watching Louise's commoner flounder against Guiche's Valkyries? That was just a bonus.

Suddenly, the murmuring around her picked up and Kirche caught sight of the tall, handsome, if somewhat strange-looking, Shirou Emiya. As he walked towards Guiche, the crowd in front of him parted, and then closed up behind him.

"Gentlemen! It's a duel!"

Guiche gestured dramatically with his rose wand, and the crowd around Kirche gave a cheer.

"Guiche is going to duel Louise's commoner!" someone shouted.

It was after another ten minutes of cheering and Guiche striking sweeping poses, during which Kirche started to become a little impatient, that Guiche turned at last to his opponent and said dramatically, "First of all, I commend you for coming here instead of running away!"

Kirche, being somewhat taller than the other girls in front of her, managed to see the small grin tug at Shirou Emiya's lips.

"Of course. It seems that even I have this wretched thing called 'pride.'"

"As you say, commoner," Guiche sneered. "Very well, let us begin, shall we?"

He flicked his rose wand, and a single petal fluttered to the ground, and from that spot sprouted one of Guiche's famous Valkyries, made of pure bronze. Kirche breathed in the power released in that instant, and something in her belly squirmed excitedly.

My, Guiche, she thought, you're more powerful than I gave you credit for.

"I am Guiche de Gramont. My Runic name is 'the Bronze.' Guiche the Bronze. Therefore, this bronze Valkyrie will be your opponent."

Shirou Emiya's lips curled up again. He really was quite handsome, Kirche decided, if a bit more exotic looking than she was used to. The structure of his face was not remarkably different than the people around him, but the slight slant to his eyes, the somewhat smoother ridge of his brow, set him apart in a way his darker skin couldn't.

"Very well then. Since you have given me your name, it's only proper that I respond in kind. I am Shirou Emiya, and though I have no Runic name, if I did, it would be something like 'the Steel.'"

Guiche sneered again.

"Stupid commoner," he said with dripping condescension. "Only nobles have Runic names."

"As you say," said Shirou Emiya. His little smile hadn't so much as twitched. Then, he glanced between Guiche's Valkyrie and the crowd. "You're going to want to step back. If you don't back away at least ten yards, then I can't guarantee I won't kill you by mistake."

No one listened, muttering about how presumptuous he was, but Kirche's stomach fluttered a little when she realized that he was perfectly serious.

She wondered, had she underestimated him?

He turned back to the Valkyrie, but didn't immediately take some sort of sword stance or otherwise prepare himself to fight.

"It seems rather ill-advised to use a Last Phantasm in a schoolyard brawl against a snot-nosed brat," he said, although he seemed to be talking more to himself than to anyone else.

"A Last Phantom?" Guiche demanded. "What, is that some sort of barbarian sword technique? No, forget about that — did you just call me a brat, commoner?!"

Kirche had to stop herself from smiling. You're not exactly proving him wrong, Guiche.

Instead of reaching for the hilt at his hip, however, Shirou Emiya reached instead up over his shoulder, and an invisible spark shot through the air — and through Kirche's stomach — as an orb of golden light appeared there and spat out the hilt of a sword into his waiting hand. Another jolt fluttered through Kirche's belly, pooling in her center as heat spread throughout her body.

Guiche? Guiche was powerful, one of the strongest boys of her year group. There were several who were smarter or more skilled among the Third Years, but they didn't have the same depths, the same raw power, that was hidden inside Guiche. If the average mage in the Tristain Academy of Magic was a pond, then Guiche was a lake, and Louise, for all her failures, was the sea that separated Halkeginia from the unexplored southern continent.

But what she'd just glimpsed was an ocean, vast and unfathomable and stretching outwards over the horizon. An intense, overwhelming want gaped suddenly inside of her, and with a shiver, her knees shaking, Kirche realized that she'd just had a climax — small, not nearly her best ever, but powerful in its abruptness.

"So I think," Shirou Emiya continued, unknowing of what he'd just done to her, "that I'll use something a little more…tame."

Kirche had stopped listening, though. She felt her face flush red, and her breath came in little pants, but amongst the whispering and shouts that broke out from Shirou Emiya's little display, she went entirely unnoticed. She hadn't the presence of mind to know whether she was grateful for that or whether she cared at all if she had been noticed; she was too focused on Shirou Emiya, too thrown by the suddenness of what had just happened.

No one had ever gotten that kind of reaction out of her, never ever, not even powerful mages like Old Osmond or Colbert. Arousal, anxious fluttering in her belly, yes, but a jolt so powerful as to inspire a climax? It hadn't happened, yet — until now.

Kirche watched the rest of the duel without really paying it too much attention. She waited, paid special notice to Shirou Emiya's skills and his casual dismantling of Guiche's vaunted Valkyries, but the dialogue and the other particulars weren't important. All she saw just proved how exceptional he was — an Adonis, a god in human form, like the old stories of those Protestant gods, like Thor — and just how badly she'd misjudged him by thinking him ordinary.

By the time it was all over, she'd made up her mind. He was the one. He had to be. There was no one who had ever inspired that kind of reaction in her, and amongst all of the Triangles and Squares that she had met, all of whom paled in comparison, there would never be another like him.

And she could never go back to them now that she'd tasted him.

He would not be a simple conquest, as so many others had been. He would be the final one. He would make her an honest woman, as the Tristanians would say. They would live happily ever after, pop out as many kids as he wanted to give her, and every night, she would have him tease her to the most delicious ecstasy imaginable, mingling the physical act of passion with the overwhelming pleasure of his immeasurable power.

Yes, Kirche decided, she would have Shirou Emiya. After all, she finally knew what true love was like.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

IV. 剣王の限界(Limitations of the Sword King) [Omake]

"There is a reason for everything." Those who hold a belief in God, or even in many gods, often hold this belief as well, that God or Fate or Destiny has determined a specific series of events with a specific goal in mind. Whether or not this truth exists in the mundane sense is something that has been argued over and over again, by philosophers and theologians alike.

However, when it comes to Halkeginia's sacred Springtime Familiar Summoning ritual, there is indeed a reason for everything. Every familiar chosen and summoned is chosen because it is most fitting for the summoner. Every choice is made because it is the proper choice for both that time and the future.

That holds especially true for the Void Familiars.

In many of the different parallel worlds, Emiya Shirou has been summoned as a familiar to Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Vallière. It is never, of course, the same Emiya Shirou, just as it is never the same Louise de La Vallière, because it is also never the exact same world. There are always differences and reasons why these disparate choices are made.

In one such world — let's call it "the Hill of Swords" — the version of Emiya Shirou summoned was only a mage. He was a specialist capable of a rare and powerful magic (and only that magic), but he was, in the end, limited to the abilities of a human. Even with the power of Gandalfr, he could not reach the level of Servants in terms of general ability, though he might borrow their strength and skills by using their weapons.

In another such world — let's call it "Miracleverse" — the version of Emiya Shirou had transcended the limitations of the human body by becoming something…else. Though he still experienced the frailties of humanity (disease, fatigue, hunger), his body was hardier and stronger, able to mimic those brilliant existences who appeared like lightning into his life during his youth. Though his skill and talent were only a pale imitation of his beloved Saber, they were still hard-earned abilities honed through battle, and power was enough to bridge the gap.

There is a reason why each of these was summoned into a separate parallel, why one did not appear in the other.

However, in the interest of experimentation, let's take a look at what would happen if one had been summoned in the other's place.

For certain, the King of Swords would progress with startling similarity through the early stages of the Miracleverse — he was still Emiya Shirou, after all, even if he was not quite so similar in skillset to his alternate. The duel with Guiche would proceed like normal, and befriending the maid, Siesta, was only a natural course. The ripples caused would not quite effect the world, yet, so the events would proceed nearly identically to his alternate self's progression.

However…

However, once Fouquet attacked the Academy to steal the Staff of Destruction, and once Fouquet was similarly defeated, things would take a different turn.

Emiya Shirou walked slowly to the thief, Fouquet, who scrambled, wheezing, desperately backwards as he advanced.

"S-stay back!" she panted. "I'm n-not afraid to kill you!"

"I don't care about your thievery," Shirou said menacingly. In his hand, he held Derflinger, his recently acquired sword. "My concern begins with your rampant violence. You attacked a school filled with children without any care for who might get hurt!"

His grip on Derflinger tightened.

"You realize," his voice came out as a low rumble, "that I'm going to kill you, now, don't you?"

Fouquet lifted her wand with her shaking hand and pointed it in his direction, but Shirou didn't so much as flinch.

"You'll be dead before you can incant a single word!" he snarled.

BANG!

A deafening crack like thunder rent the air, and a 4 pound projectile hurtling at the speed of sound rocketed down like a lightning bolt. Emiya Shirou, hearing the shot, immediately tensed and prepared to move, dodge out of the way.

Now, before we continue, there are a few facts that we need to mention, first.

Francis Drake's ship, the Golden Hind, carried twenty-two guns, fourteen of which are "minions," standard armaments that fired munitions somewhere between three and five pounds imperial. A four pound cannonball can be propelled from this kind of cannon with an initial speed of about 1400 feet per second — or, a little bit faster than the speed of sound.

After firing, however, the initial speed quickly drops off because of wind resistance and other natural factors, reducing velocity to such a degree that the cannonball itself can become visible at the longer ranges. It's not exactly something that's easy to dodge, but as far as artillery goes, it's one of the few projectiles still visible after it's fired.

On the other hand, if, for instance, the cannonball was fired down, then the effects of gravity would serve to negate some of the speed loss caused by the wind resistance, so by the time it traveled the distance needed to strike its target — Emiya Shirou — the overall speed would still be about equal to the speed of sound.

Of equal concern are the limitations of the human body. For Emiya Shirou, the King of the Forsaken, his reaction time and speed are equivalent to a Servant's and high enough that dodging a standard bullet is certainly possible. In fact, as our beloved Saber proved in Fate/Zero, dodging a bullet should be easy, though difficulty would increase proportionally to the rate of fire, so a submachine gun would be harder to deal with than a handgun.

For Emiya Shirou, King of Swords, however, it's a much harder prospect. Limited, in the end, to what he can accomplish with Reinforcement and the Gandalfr runes, his speed and reaction time would be superhuman, but still below that of a Servant. Since the very best he could hope for is D-Rank Agility, reacting quickly enough to dodge even small arms fire would be a challenge.

Emiya Shirou, King of the Forsaken, was fast enough to fling himself out of the way of the cannonball. His reaction time was fast enough and his body quick enough to remove himself from the path of the shell, saving his life.

Emiya Shirou, King of Swords, was not.

So, when he heard the bang and tensed, preparing to move, head and body starting to turn in the direction of the sound, he did not dodge quickly enough, and the cannonball hit him full on.

In a single instant, before he even realized what happened, the entire left side of his chest, from the sternum over and the hip up to his neck, was obliterated.

"SHIROU!"

Louise called his name as he fell to the ground, but there was no point. He could not hear her anyway.

Emiya Shirou, King of Swords, was dead.

BAD END #1: Wrong Way to Paradise

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

V. 理想の使い魔の限界(Limitations of the Ideal Familiar) [Omake]

"There is a reason for everything." Those who hold a belief in God, or even in many gods, often hold this belief as well, that God or Fate or Destiny has determined a specific series of events with a specific goal in mind. Whether or not this truth exists in the mundane sense is something that has been argued over and over again, by philosophers and theologians alike.

However, when it comes to Halkeginia's sacred Springtime Familiar Summoning ritual, there is indeed a reason for everything. Every familiar chosen and summoned is chosen because it is most fitting for the summoner. Every choice is made because it is the proper choice for both that time and the future.

That holds especially true for the Void Familiars.

In many of the different parallel worlds, Emiya Shirou has been summoned as a familiar to Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Vallière. It is never, of course, the same Emiya Shirou, just as it is never the same Louise de La Vallière, because it is also never the exact same world. There are always differences and reasons why these disparate choices are made.

In one such world — let's call it "the Familiar of Ideals" — the version of Emiya Shirou summoned was an inhuman mage. He was a mutated specialist capable of a few rare and powerful magics and some more common crafts (and only those magics), but he was, in the end, just barely superhuman and limited by how much he has his abilities currently enhanced to. Just with the power of Gandalfr, he would barely reach the level of a particularly unimpressive Servant Assassin in terms of general ability, unlike other Shirou he couldn't even borrow greater power and skill from using other Servants' copied weapons.

In another such world — let's call it "Miracleverse" — the version of Emiya Shirou had also transcended the limitations of the human body by becoming something…else. Though he still experienced the frailties of humanity (disease, fatigue, hunger), his body was hardier and stronger, more naturally and easily able to mimic those brilliant existences who appeared like lightning into his life during his youth. Though his skill and talent were only a pale imitation of his beloved Saber, they were still hard-earned abilities honed through battle, and power was enough to bridge the gap.

There is a reason why each of these was summoned into a separate parallel, why one did not appear in the other.

However, in the interest of experimentation, let's take a look at what would happen if one had been summoned in the other's place.

For certain, The Ideal of Heroes would progress with startling similarity through the early stages of the Miracleverse — he was still Emiya Shirou, after all, even if he was not quite so similar in skill-set to his alternate. The duel with Guiche would proceed like normal, and befriending the maid, Siesta, was only a natural course. The ripples caused would not quite effect the world, yet, so the events would proceed nearly identically to his alternate self's progression.

However…

However, once Fouquet attacked the Academy to steal the Staff of Destruction, and once Fouquet was similarly defeated, things would take a different turn.

Emiya Shirou walked slowly to the thief, Fouquet, who scrambled, wheezing, desperately backwards as he advanced.

"S-stay back!" she panted. "I'm n-not afraid to kill you!"

"Your thievery really doesn't matter that much to me," Shirou said plainly. In his hands he held Derflinger, his recently acquired magical magic-eating talking sword, and Wrought, his other semi-talking ghost-sword creature and old comrade. "My real concerns begin with your rampant violence. You attacked a school filled with children without any care for who might get hurt. The chaos you've caused and the destruction you've wrought, no not you big guy, are going to have massive repercussions, and Arceus only knows what trouble will happen because of it that'll take forever to clean up and repair."

His grip on Derflinger and Wrought tightened as he pointed the former at the downed criminal. He held Derflinger as such for a few moments waiting for her to get the message. When she didn't drop her wand he couldn't help but sigh in exasperation.

"You realize," Shirou continued, "that you can't win or escape, right? Your only option is to surrender or be dragged unconscious by me to the authorities to face the consequences of your crimes."

Fouquet lifted her wand with her shaking hand and pointed it in his direction, but Shirou didn't so much as flinch. Why should he, the woman hadn't even pushed him hard enough to use anything more than the passive strength from his runes, and he had B Rank Magic Resistance to boot. She simply was not capable of being a threat.

"You'll be out before you can incant even a single word." he warned.

BANG!

A deafening crack like thunder rent the air, and a 4 pound projectile hurtling at the speed of sound rocketed down like a lightning bolt. Emiya Shirou, hearing the shot, immediately tensed and prepared to move, dodge out of the way.

Now, before we continue, there are a few facts to get out of the way.

Francis Drake's ship, the Golden Hind, carried twenty-two guns, fourteen of which are "minions," standard armaments that fired munitions somewhere between three and five pounds imperial. A four pound cannonball can be propelled from this kind of cannon with an initial speed of about 1400 feet per second — or, a little bit faster than the speed of sound.

After firing, however, the initial speed quickly drops off because of wind resistance, reducing velocity to such a degree that the cannonball itself can become visible at the longer ranges. It's not exactly something that's easy to dodge, but as far as artillery goes, it's one of the few projectiles still visible after it's fired.

On the other hand, if, for instance, the cannonball was fired down, then the effects of gravity would serve to negate some of the speed loss caused by the wind resistance, so by the time it traveled the distance needed to strike its target — Emiya Shirou — the overall speed would still be about equal to the speed of sound.

Of equal concern are the limitations of an under-enhanced body. For Emiya Shirou, the King of the Forsaken, his reaction time and speed are equivalent to an excellent Servant's, easily high enough that dodging a standard bullet is no great task. In fact, as his beloved Saber proved in the Fourth Holy Grail War, dodging a bullet would be easy, though difficulty would increase proportionally to the rate of fire, so a submachine gun would be harder to deal with than a handgun.

For Emiya Shirou, The Ideal of Heroes, however, it's a much harder prospect. Limited, in the end, to what he can accomplish without any Reinforcement and only the Gandalfr runes, his speed and reaction time would be superhuman, but still below that of a good Servant. Since all he had at the time was D-Rank Strength, Endurance, and Agility reacting quickly enough to dodge even small arms fire would be more difficult than if he was fully enhanced with his magecraft. So much so that it would almost be a miracle if he did.

Emiya Shirou, King of the Forsaken, was fast enough to fling himself out of the way of the cannonball. His reaction time was fast enough and his body quick enough to remove himself from the path of the shell, saving his life.

Emiya Shirou, The Ideal of Heroes, was not.

So, when he heard the bang and tensed, preparing to move, head and body starting to turn in the direction of the sound, he did not dodge quickly enough, and the cannonball hit him full on.

In a single instant, before he even realized what happened, the entire left side of his chest, from the sternum over and the hip up to his neck, was obliterated.

"SHIROU!"

Louise called his name as he fell to the ground, Wrought leaping clear with Derflinger in one ribbony hand and a small black and blue ball in the other. There was no point to Louise's scream. Shirou couldn't hear her anyway.

Emiya Shirou, The Ideal of Heroes, could only be dead.

What the fuck happened to Insert Horizontal Line for linebreaks in the forums?

BANG! BANG! Two more shots sounded, and this time expecting the fire, Wrought was able to leap in front of their target, Louise, and slash one of the projectiles away with Derf before erecting a transparent barrier of hexagonal shields to surround himself and his Master's Master. More shots sounded, each one accompanied by a flying ball of metal that hammered his shield, and then exploded pushing both himself and his charge farther back just over 50 of his body lengths.

No more loud explosions went off to announce their incoming demise. Which was good for Wrought because King's Shield was at its limit and fading, it would be a while before he could rely on it again. Hopefully their new opponent wouldn't figure that out, but thinking of said opponent... Wrought followed the trajectories of the cannon fire that pulped his Master's chest cavity and assessed him. Too far away to easily tell, but... correction, it looked female with its long hair and coat blowing in the strong winds. Strong winds because she was astride a floating ship far above the ground! Wrought wondered why his Master had to attract all the weirdness when he wasn't actively running head first into it?

"OI!" the figure called down. "YOU COMIN', OR WHAT?"

Forquet stood, still gasping a little, and glanced once at Wrought before rising into the air. Wrought once again wondered if the average powerless human was from some genetic deficiency Arceus accidentally allowed to flourish before he drew back the pokeball in his hand to throw. Shirou was out of commission and he himself wouldn't be able to protect Louise and handle the enemies at the same time, one of which could only be a Servant like those he had fought against with his Master in the Fifth and Fourth Holy Grail Wars, so the only recourse would be to blow one of Shirou's secr. The thought was truncated before completion as a much smaller CRACK heralded a much smaller ball of metal narrowly missing Louise's face.

"NONE OF THAT, NOW!" her voice called down. "YOU'LL BE KEEPING WHATEVER LITTLE FRIEND YOU'VE GOT IN THAT LITTLE BALL IN IT, YA HEAR?"

What the fuck happened to Insert Horizontal Line for linebreaks in the forums?

Forquet was almost to the escape ship when she heard something she never wanted to hear again in her life.

"DO IT WROUGHT!"

Shouting. Specifically, shouting from someone who should be dead. Except he wasn't; all heads turned to the source of the voice lying in a pile of his own golden glowing bones, organs, and blood. Bones, organs, and blood that less than a minute ago were pink paste and black char.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" CRACK!

Shirou's heroic and revolting outburst was silenced by the Ship Captain's exclamation and the subsequent flintlock pistol shot removing his head in a spray of golden gore, but it served its purpose as Wrought used the distraction to chuck the pokeball in his hand.

With a terrible thundering roar and storm of lightning that belied any expectations of the little ball it came from, all were treated to the glorious sight of the nine foot, six inch, seven-hundred and sixty point six pound Legendary Deep Black Dragon Zekrom's entrance*. Zekrom faced Shirou's still body, now regenerating its head, and the vehicle fleeing above it before turning to regard the shorter sword pokemon who merely pointed back at the airship with an aggressive wave of Derfinger and a metallic screech all but shouting "It was them." Such a notion was also carried by the pointed Derflinger who voiced as much.

Linebreak 'cause we gotta keep a long story short!

Forquet would've been lying if she said the last things she ever saw of the world weren't impressive. Before the crash and shrapnel that took away her sight she was treated to a spectacular showing of the Black Dragon erupting in blueish Anti-World lightning that cloaked its frame and plowing through the cannon fire and ships of a Heroic Spirit's EX Ranked Noble Phantasm airfleet while the heroic owner of said ships cursed and futilely struggled to escape the dragon.

*Shirou would later be told that Forquet almost fell to her death when she forgot her levitation spell two inches from being on the enemy ship. He would also be sworn into secrecy by his Master that she most certainly, and absolutely, did not wet herself like a scared little girl, even the tiniest bit, when a bolt struck mere feet away from her person. But that is later, and not now.

OMAKE END #1: Just Another Day In Paradise

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

To be continued

Part two of Witness.

Wow, that second one was really dark for an omake.

Anyway, that's not a slight at GB, it's just a statement of the obvious: GB started the FoZxFSN crossover thing by being the first major story for it, but that doesn't mean we have to hold it on a pedestal. For however cool he might have been, GB's version of Shirou would be woefully outclassed in Miracle of Zero, and Miracle's Shirou would be ridiculously overpowered in Hill of Swords — so much so that it would be a boring cakewalk.

In other words, each version belongs in its proper story.

The last short was an Omake, a variant of the one right before it, submitted by "formerlyarandomreviewer," containing a version of Shirou ostensibly from his own (planned) story. I took the liberty of assuming what he meant about "Ideal Familiar," hence why the Japanese word used is "ideal," as in "dream" or "ambition," rather than "ideal," as in "best" or "perfect."

On a final note, I can't resist saying that Shirou has tripped his first flag in Halkeginia — Kirche route unlocked!

Not really, but it made me smile to write it.

As always, read, review, enjoy.