Phantasmal Soldier Chapter One

Nothing lasts Forever.

Written by Sam Ryder

Completed on:

AN: Okay, so straight to the point, I re-read chapter one and almost threw up with how bad it is. So, I'm rewriting it. Of course, by the time you see this it'll be done but still.

Story Starts Here:

Japan. He couldn't believe he was back in Japan. It wasn't that he never thought he'd be back, he'd a trip scheduled at the end of the year in fact. Rumors of an apostle changed that, an apostle in a city the size of Tokyo was terrifying, the amount of people that could be afflicted made it a priority whenever the rumor came up. That none of the rumors in the last ten years had been verified as anything less than complete falsehoods, well it was the only reason he was alone.

So there he stood in the middle of a crowd, in one of the largest districts in Tokyo; where three supposed victims had gone missing with only a puddle of blood as a mark of them ever being there, getting the lay of the land. He'd been there four days, four days of no attacks, no more crime scenes and four days dreading this moment. When the crowds gathered for the doujinshi comics conventions.

On the upside, he thought to himself, it looked like the apostle was nothing more than a witch hunt this time around as well.

Perhaps, he could, if after finding nothing during the coming evening, make a brief detour through Fuyuki and spend a few days visiting Fuji-nee.

That thought was pushed from his mind as a large shadow swept across the ground and up over the side of a building. A shadow to large to be a bird and to quiet to be any kind of machine. A shiver ran through him as a second shadow swept across the ground even as he looked up. His blood grew cold.

The form silhouetted against the sun, there was no mistaking it. A dragon.

"Everyone get indoors!" He yelled.

It wasn't like that would help overly much, save maybe keep them from its notice, but there was nothing he could do except save as many as he could. The swords he had that would slay dragons and he had quite a few, were far from cost effective. Still...

"Trace on." He murmured. None of the people moved, those not staring curiously at the dragons form, stared at him as if he were a nut recently escaped from some institution or another. Honestly he didn't blame them, they probably thought it was some sort of publicity stunt. He could only hope they would think the same of his actions.

Judging the concept of creation. Created as a sword without peer, a blade to which no other can compare.

The shadow passed over a building out of Shirou's sight, he didn't pause to think, instead he began to run. As fast as he could he turned the corner and found himself face to face with a heavy military force, a mix of men and of all things orcs. Which he'd sworn had been totally exterminated over a century prior.

Hypothesizing the basic structure. A blade with many forms, a long slim blade to some but to most a dual edged great sword adorned in gold and gleaming bright. A dragons visage etched into the blade.

The man in the saddle of the most forward horse gestured with his sword and yelled something in a language that Shirou had never heard of before. It had to be the commander, he wore the brightest armor with the most ostentatious helmet. Absently, Shirou analyzed the sword in the man's hand and found a copy of it planting deep into the Unlimited Blade Works. Sadly, it wasn't one he'd likely ever use, it was a straight edged blade and it was balanced poorly. He had other's that would've been far more suited for anything really.

Duplicating composition of its creation. Woven Iron made up the heavy sword, the flat of its blade inlaid with gold along with its wide hilt.

Shirou turned, holding a hand up into the air as a curled up creature descended toward him, any onlooker would have thought it his end, what with the blade the unfurling creature held. They were wrong, in the span of a second, likely less, his empty hand was filled. An overly long long sword reached out to greet the exposed belly of the beast so intent on ending its wielders life, and left a deep score. The Orc fell to the ground clutching its stomach and squealing in pain. It died moments later.

Normally, Shirou would have taken no pleasure in ending a life, even to save another but the sword held in the creatures hand and it was no doubt a sword though it looked more like a ong knife, was seeped in blood, death and misery. More children had felt the edge of its blade and slipped screaming into their eternal rest than any other that held no legend, at least as far as Shirou had encountered. The worst of it came with the knowledge that it bordered on having a legend, and a copy had formed deep within him.

His attention turned skyward once more, the dragon, though he was beginning to doubt that's what it was it having a rider as it did, was gone. The prana heavy inside him begged release, demanded use and he knew the draconian creature would pass again. People screamed, their surety in the obvious stunt, shifting to abject terror. They ran.

Imitating the skill of its making, reforged from a mystical blade once shattered by Gungir this weapon became cursed, demonic and was soon bathed in a dragons blood. The hands that tempered the blade did not survive long.

His heart like thunder in his chest, SHirou turned at the sound of gunfire, a civilian by the look of him had commandeered the gun from a frightened police office and had shot through the wings of the the dragonic mount sending it tumbling from the sky. It was no dragon, it was a wyvern, still extinct, save for one he'd heard the clock tower had procured and kept in stasis when they didn't need parts. While the wyvern hadn't survived the crash its rider did, and before Shirou could trace a thing the civilian soldier had taken the fight to him. The invader did not survive. With a quick nod to the man Shirou made a beeline for the next street where another wyvern had flown to take refuge.

Sympathizing with the experience of its growth, once holy turned demonic a dragon slaying blade holding a legend nigh upon equal with King Arturia and Excalibur. This blade stood alone as the sword of promised victories equal and opposite.

Lightning began snapping around his hand, the blades framework created in light blue light.

Reproducing the accumulated years, raised again and again to smite the wicked only to be turned toward ruin. Used to select kings it brought about their fate. A sword of the damned.

The sword finished but SHirou knew it wasn't done, it remained apart, hollow from its legend.

His circuits burned, far more than he ever thought possible, save maybe if he'd tried tracing Excalibur. In fact, he doubted he would have been able to get this far if the blade inside him wasn't warring with the bonds that held it. It wanted its freedom to slay the dragon kin before it, the faintest echo of its legend bearing hard against reality.

Exceeding every manufacturing process.

It's legend filled the blade, the sword of the hero Sigfried in some legend Sigmund in others. "Gram." Shirou said its name as if it were a statement. It might as well have been, the blade glowing a faint green that Shirou found he understood but could not explain, even to himself was held in his hands; it's very presence causing the wyvern to recoil, fighting to retreat from the hands that guided their reins. None of them wanted to come closer but it was far to late.

Holding the blade in the air its glowing edge glinted and something in the wyvern changed and Shirou knew what. It was why he selected the sword despite its demanding cost. The ability to instill jealousy into any who saw it and wyvern and rider alike were focused on the blade.

Shirou readied himself as they came for him, and as the first reached him he cleaved down and than across again and again. With each swing he took a step leaving a bloody swath in his wake. They weren't dead however, some were missing hands, others a leg or even thumbs, regardless none would ever be able to stand and attempt the slaying of an innocent so easily again. Gram raged in his hands, it wanted more than blood, more than maiming its target, life was the price it demanded for wielding its glory and despite Shirou's best efforts with one or two it may have gotten its wish, thought Shirou didn't think so.

As the last of the Wyvern struggled on the ground, their riders screaming in a choir of agony, Shirou broke the sword in his hands down into prana again and allowed it to float away like so much dust in the breeze. The sky was heavy with the sound of helicopters and gunfire alike, he couldn't help but grimace as the exhaustion took him deep into the realm of dreams.

He dreamt of fire, of battle, of glory and death on a hill of swords, where she waited.

When he woke, the scent of fire and smoke heavy in his nose as it always was after dreaming of it, the fighting was done. Thousands lay dead from both sides, others were missing and terror filled the population of Japan. Terror at the invasion from another world, terror created by the wyverns and terror through the reveal of magic.

Silently he cursed himself for the umpteenth time, as he stared at the news broadcast there he was, in a fairly decent video creating the sword that slew the Orc that attempted to skewer him from above. Rin, he decided, was going to kill him, if the clock tower didn't see to it first. Honestly, the revelation of magic didn't really bother him personally, his magic wasn't dependent on some knowledge hoarded by his ancestors, there wouldn't be any lessening any of it, but the clocktower would see it as a threat. A shiver ran through him, what if they managed to convince the "Blue" he was a worthy bounty? Or than Japan as a whole had to go?

They could blame it on technology and hypnotize another country into taking the blame.

"Emiya-san." The voice brought Shirou from his musings as if he'd been shocked by lightning, when he'd woken he found himself in some sort of field hospital under armed guard. At first he tried convincing them that what he did wasn't magic, but him taking weapons from fallen soldiers and cleverly hiding them on his person. Said plan went out the window when they showed him a video of a harpy casting some kind of wind magic. They knew magic was real so he tried to convince them otherwise. It went as well as a brick floating down a river. Finally he relented that he could do magic and promptly lied about everything else.

Could others do magic? "Maybe, it wasn't like I went to social meet ups for other mages."

How do you do it? "I don't really know I just do."

So, no one taught you? "Yes, I got lectures from a girl who was my age and a great master of the arcane arts revolving around gems." They didn't believe that one either which served Shirou just fine. Four days later here he was.

Shirou was bowing even as he stood from his seat, "Yamamoto-San"

"Please this way." Yamamoto said with a small smile. He gestured out the door and down a long corridor.

Shirou did what he was told, down the long hallway he went meeting up with the soldier who looked like a civilian as they went. The man look far less comfortable in his military dress than he had before but he made no comment choosing instead to give Shirou a shallow nod. They were led to a curtain and ushered into chairs just on the other side. A man of middling height and thinning hair was talking to the crowd and Shirou couldn't help the feeling they were late.

"What happened was an atrocity! They attacked civilians with complete disregard! However during this foul act two citizens of Japan, stepped forward showering great bravery and courage in the face of danger."

The man gestured two Shirou and the man beside him, "I present to you the Hero's of Ginza, First Lieutenant Yōji Itami! The man stepped forward and grinned cheekily as people applauded and camera flashes ignited.

"The other is a young man you've no doubt seen in the media, Emiya Shirou."

There was another round of applause and more camera flashes before the politician continued. "Today we not only honor them but all those who have fallen. Even now efforts are being made to clear away the rubble and see what survivors we have are returned home."

That was true at least, rescue efforts had found no less than fourteen people surviving amid the rubble. Posters plastered the flatter surfaces, relief vehicles lined the streets, The country came together.

The rest of the day past in a blur as did the rest of the week. Shirou couldn't lie, he hid himself behind the best bounded fields his meager ability in runs would allow. Based of geas once used by the hound of Ireland himself he made it to where should anyone try to cross the field would look for him if he looked for them. It was a clever bit of magic and it did the job, six times. It's biggest downside however, he had to keep his back to them at all times, so he had no idea who was looking for him exactly.

Over the course of the next month Shirou entered into negotiation after negotiation while a group of soldiers went on to the other side of the gate to occupy and protect the entrance from any who may attack again. By the end of the second month Shirou agreed. He would join them in the special region as a consultant and a deterrent to others who used Magecraft. When they first suggested it he'd told them in no uncertain terms, find some one else. His magic was far to specialized after all. If they looked for anyone else, they didn't tell him, and when they reminded him how many lives he could save, well, how could he say no?

With the barest amount of aphrehension he along with a number of other soldiers stepped through the gate.

Author's notes: chapters a bit shorter than I intended however, I hope it will do.

Omake:

As Shirou walked through the gate, after all what else would you call a gateway between worlds, a portal perhaps? It just sounded far too science fictiony to Shirou and apparently to the government officials in charge of naming such things, so 'The Gate' would have to do. Anyways as he stepped through the portal there wasn't the rush of wind, cool or warm that he was expecting, nor the dimly lit room hidden within a dungeon and though it was less likely as it had managed to send an army through; it was on the list nonetheless. Instead it was music.

"Log in you damned ones, crush the ones who won't compromise!"

It was an energetic tune the words while jarring seemed almost upbeat, Shirou paused, considering for a moment before nodding to himself unconcerned he was holding up the soldiers filing behind him as he decided it was definitely upbeat. And some of it was in Japanese... How odd. Now, while Rin would no doubt be expounding on the Kaliedoscope dropping them off in a separate reality rather than another world even as they passed into said other reality Shirou's focus was on something else.

Like the fact that, ignoring the numerous people in armor, which just so happened to look nothing like those that invaded wore, or that it looked like akihabara just ruined and overgrown with vegetation, nor was it the children with animal ears that Shirou supposed were so cute that Illya would be squealing in excitement while ordering berserker to crush any who stood between her and said kids. No, it was the fact that a decent number of the population even if less than the others were cat people. Full on bipedal cats with whisker's, fur, twitching animal ears and swishing tails. Not of course that Shirou had any problem with them, oh no, he just couldn't help but wonder, "do you suppose they like fish, are fish even a thing here?"

A number of chuckles around him told him he'd mused at the very least the last bit of this aloud. "You know, I have a feeling that sushi is a real popular menu item around here." It was a smaller girl though the muscles evident despite her fatigues told Shirou any who mentioned the fact were likely to find out just how touchy the subject was.

"Welcome." A new voice interrupted from a short ways off and there was a sudden series of 'clicks' and the sounds of shouts being called about though the blue haired man with glasses didn't seem surprised, merely curious. His next words said as much, "I'm Shiroe, Guildmaster of Log Horizon, may I ask just how you entered Akihabara without entering through the gate? And are you going to be causing any problems?"

Of everything he said only one thing caught Shious attention, he turned and looked behind him and his jaw almost dropped, the gate and a good chunk of the forces following behind him, all but the twenty or so with him currently, were gone or in the soldiers case hadn't made it through.

He could already feeling a headache coming on when he spotted the cause, or at least the most likely cause of said impending headache. Zelretch, who just so happened to wink in his direction before disappearing into the growing crowd.

It was not, going to be a good day.