Work Text:
I wake up from the floor my head still ringing. Boy, I really had a lot to drink didn't I? I should tone it down a bit, who knows what could happened when you're drunk? You could wake up in a bush, get mugged, you could probably even get hit by a truck.
...Oh. Wait, I did get hit by truck. I vividly remember walking drunkenly into a sidewalk, turning over to that blinding light of speeding tow truck coming at me. I must've been like a deer in headlights the way I didn't even make time to even do anything when it happened. Oh god, it's coming back to me. The pain of being hurled by a 3 tonned truck making me fly into the street all mangled and dying...
Oh man, if I was gonna die, at least let me finish Limbus Company! I only just got to the end of Canto 9, and I got fuck ton of games to play in my backlogs too... Well, guess I'll just let my consciousness drift into nothing. I never did believe in religion, so I guess that means I'm going to nowhere. Well, somewhere? The fact that I can think has got to mean something. Wait, I just got up from the floor. I AM somewhere.
I probe my body trying to find any sort of injuries, Nothing of the note, but weirdly I feel like my frame has gotten...smaller. Like, years smaller. I'm at least in the ages of...10? 9 maybe? No, 10. I'm definitely 10 years old. Finally, alright, let's see wherever the hell I am. First thing I notice is that god awful smell. Which is odd, because how did I not notice that earlier? I look around and it looks like I'm in some sort of alleyway. It's midday and from what it seems, I'm in some backwater place. Reminds me of the backstreets from the City actually.
Heh. Wow, I hope not. I try make my way to where people actually are. Maybe I can ask them about where I am. A second life huh? Not bad, not bad at all. We could have started somewhere nice, but hey, I'll take whatever I can get. Let's see what this world is for a change.
9??-02, District 26.
I'm in the City from Project Moon. Oh my god. Of all the worlds, of all the places I could go, I would rather go to Limbo than the City. God, I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. I mean, as a Pmoon fan this is interesting. I would make up fixer OCs and Sinner OCs, but I would never EVER want to end up here. Yeah, I'm dead.
I mean I can be glad that I could understand the language here at least. But even if I knew how to write and speak the language, I'm basically dead meat. I'm a backstreets rat. Not to mention I'm a CHILD. You know how many children get bad endings in project moon?!??!?!?!
...Ok not a lot, but Ryoshu is a main example. I tried asking a few folks where this place was, and apparently this was District 26. As in Z corp? I didn't know they existed. As I ruminated on this peculiarity, I thought about my previous life. Just getting into college, somewhat attentive parents, moderate amount of friends, and best of all, absolute freedom. God, I miss that life. Maybe I should just consider suicide at this point, anything is better than the city at this point...
...But I'm not gonna test my luck. As stayed on these thoughts, I noticed the sun. It was approaching dawn. Shit. Do I have a home? Do i have somewhere that I can protect myself in from the sweepers before they to their titular sweeping? And as it turns out, I did have something like that. I wandered around for domicile, some sort of safe haven from the Night in the Backstreets, and I came across this orphanage lying in between the two towering buildings, the caretaker sweeping the front noticing my presence.
"Shirou! There you are! Get in here before the Night comes. Wouldn't want to be swept away now would you?" She says, as she waves for me to come over.
I make my way inside the orphanage hurriedly, my legs running before I an tell them to, past the caretaker, into the open door of the orphanage. "Woah, slow down there bud! Looks like you've had one hell of a day." Her voice rings out with a nonchalance, but then, if she was the caretaker, shouldn't she be more worried that I just wandered off?!
"Alright Shirou bud, go on to your room, it's night time after all. Oh, but make sure you've already eaten 'kay? I left some bread at the dining room table if you hadn't had anything to eat."
I nod, and do as she says. As luck would have it I find a loaf of bread and the room she was talking about. Inside, is a small room fitted with a bed, cabinet, and a small table. I sit down on the bed, thinking down on everything that's happened today. I'm in the City. This is my life now. I know I've said this a lot, but God, why? I'm already down on my luck as is, apparently being an orphan and all, but you had to make it so that I live in the backstreets. And in Z corp no less. The one district nobody knows about.
What shitty luck. It's almost laughable really. If I knew I would've ended up here, I would've...I dunno, honestly. I just dont know what to make of it. Its impossible, fantastical, grim, deplorable, and indescribable.
...Wait, did the caregiver just call me Shirou? Like, theres only one Shirou I know of here. I stood up from my bed, ruffling my hair, plucking a strand to take a look at it. Red. Holy. HOLY SHIT. I'M SHIROU EMIYA.
"I'M SHIROU EMIYA HOLY SHIT."
From beyond my door, a muffled, irritated voice rings through. A plea for me to shut up. Oh my god. I'm Shirou Emiya. This changes shit. I can actually, kinda fight. That's something. But wait, magic exists in the city but does me being Shirou Emiya automatically mean that magecraft from the Fate series can carry over to Project Moon? I try to think about it, eventually the only way to actually test it out is to go test it out.
I pick out an item in my room, a glass cup lying around on the floor. If I remember correctly, one of the basics of magecraft is Reinforcement magecraft. To strengthen something making it stronger than it is. As I hold the cup in my hand, I realize, how the hell do they do this? I'm practically imagining it. Reinforce. Reinforce. But hell, I'm not getting any feeling. Any outtake in magical energy and whatnot. Well now hold on, Shirou had an analogy for this didn't he? Oh, no, wait, structural analysis. I have to break down the being of this cup till its last inch. Centimeter. Whatever.
I hold it again. First, the structure. Its weak points, cracks, uneven edges. I see it. I can see it. Every single flaw within the glass, all of the handling of it that can lead it to be in the state that it's in. Now I have to reinforce it. I have patch the scratches. Fill in the cracks. I have to—
Trace on.
I feel it. My hands flaring up, almost recoiling at the energy leaving my hand. It hurts. At that moment, I let go of the cup, I instead focus on the new sensation my body's feeling. It burns. It's excruciating. Like opening up your nerves and pouring hot water over it. But then I hear the cup falling to the ground.
I look at the floor, at the cup rolling away from me. It's not broken. I pick it back up, looking at it closely. Wait, how do I know it worked? This could've all been my imagination. Something I made up in my sudden psychotic break to cope with the way I am now.
...
...I hurl the cup at the wall in front of me. The glass cup flies with enough force to break on impact. It makes a loud clang, yet doesn't shatter. Instead the cup bounced off the wall before making trajectory back my foot, wherein I immediately bend over and hold my foot at the sudden pain. Oh. Oh baby. I CAN USE MAGECRAFT. This changes everything. Reinforcement, then Projection, then Unlimited Bladeworks... With that kind of power, I can make myself an office, maybe even gain the title of a Colour Fixer. But first I have to plan my leave. I gotta get out, get a fixer's license, rack up reputation, buy augments, and make enough to stave off being broke, gotta get some connections with this too. A few things to worry about should be getting involved with the story, I don't really intend to do that at all. It's not like I don't want to help those who need help, but seriously, I'm not trying to get involved. I don't really want to be a hero.
That's it, that's my goal. Stay low, don't do anything stupid. Nothing will go wrong from that...
9??-01, District 26 Fire Incident.
The smoke chokes all life in the vicinity. The fire smothers all chance for a painless death. And lastly, the rubble buries everyone who even thought of a second chance.
The whole of District 26 reduced to smoldering, burning concrete. And in the middle of all of it, a young man stands at the pinnacle of this self-inflicted tragedy.
The man is silent. He thinks, ruminates, tries to distract himself from all the noises and dying screams of the area. Before it all drowns until there's nothing but silent, scorching flames, burning what's left of those who'd already died.
And yet, despite the desolate silence, his mind is anything but silent. He puts both hands on his maroon haired head, before giving away at his knees.
It's not my fault.
It is.
I didn't cause this.
You let it happen.
Shut up, I'm alive, that's all that matters.
Why you of all people?
In the breaks of his madness, he tries to find reason I'm his living. And when he cannot find one, he can only scream. Opening his mouth wide, giving himself to the sway of his body. He can't hear a sound. There's ringing in ears. He screams louder, trying to feel something. Nothing. Not a sound. Eventually, he falls to the ground. The night coming, almost time for the sweepers to arrive.
Maybe this'll be it. Maybe this will absolve him of his guilt. He can do nothing but close his eyes and give himself to the wolves like a lamb for slaughter. But he hears something. He turns to the noise, and he sees a red bus. Heading towards him.
The bus drives through all the smoke and fire. Looming past it, the charred corpses of those who tried to climb out of the rubble.
It drives for a long while, before stopping before him. The doors stretch open, 2 figures descending from the bus. Figures he himself knows all too well. A tall grey attired man, with red piercing eyes that frown over everything in the general area, and a woman of fair skin, and white hair, her posture exuding an aura of confidence and knowledgeable prowess.
"Hmm. This is the last one? You better have a good reason for dragging us this far, Ms. Faust. Even Limbus doesn't have jurisdiction in this District."
The woman turns the young man. His face turning from a despairing, gloomy, crestfallen look to that of sudden confusion, but also, clarity.
"Sinner No. 14, Emiya Shirou. Join Limbus Company, and Faust shall turn you into a Hero of Justice."
The man could only laugh at that. That's all this was? A prologue? All those years building all he had up, only for it to come crashing, all of it, it was for a mere introduction?
He smirks, then breaks into laughter. But his eyes remain the same hollowed stare. He looks at the both of them. The red eyed man ready to kill him where he stands if needed, and the woman already silent, as if knowing what comes next.
"...Alright. Fine. Let's sign the contract."