Ritsuka stared into the mirror, his reflection mocking him.
Round cheeks. Tiny hands. Barely five years old.
If this had happened to him back during the first Singularity, he probably would've screamed, panicked, and begged for Da Vinci to fix it.
But now?
Now he was a man who had faced Beasts, Kings, and Gods.
A man who'd fought through seven Singularities, seven Lostbelts, and married enough divine beings to make Zeus jealous.
So instead of panic, he just… sighed.
He lifted his small hand, watching his fingers flex — soft, fragile, weak.
"…This better be a dream," he muttered.
He slapped his own cheek. It hurt.
"Okay. Not a dream."
He looked around his room — the old wooden floor, the tiny desk, the small window showing a peaceful blue sky.
It wasn't Chaldea. It wasn't even the modern world.
"…You have got to be kidding me."
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and muttered,
"Great. I went from saving the world to needing a babysitter again."
Ritsuka looked around the room.
The toys scattered across the floor.
The neatly made bed — way too soft, way too small.
The shelves filled with picture books… and, strangely, a few volumes of Magecraft Theory and Ether Foundations.
He picked one up. The handwriting inside the cover was familiar — his mother's.
He blinked, stunned.
"This… this is my family's house."
His eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where a small plush doll sat slumped against the wall — a tiny, stitched caricature of himself wearing a makeshift Chaldea uniform.
His old childhood toy. He remembered crying when it lost an arm.
He chuckled dryly. "Guess Mom really did keep everything."
He stood up — or tried to. The world suddenly seemed… bigger. The table reached his chest, and the window handle looked like it was at mountain height.
"…Wait," he said, looking around, "why does everything look bigger?"
Then it hit him.
It wasn't the world that had grown larger — it was him that had gotten smaller.
"…Oh, come on," Ritsuka groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Of course. Regression. Actual physical regression. Thanks, universe. Really needed that."
He glanced at the books again, realizing what that meant.
If this was his family home — then his parents were still alive.
And that realization hit him harder than any Beast ever had.
Ritsuka's eyes darted toward the calendar hanging above his study desk — a bright blue one decorated with cartoon characters from some old show he barely remembered.
2004.
He froze. The air in the room seemed to still.
"Two… thousand… four," he muttered under his breath, his mind rapidly running calculations like a machine.
He was five years old in 2004.
That lined up perfectly.
The year before the Fuyuki Fire. Before Chaldea. Before… everything.
Ritsuka rubbed his temples, his pulse quickening.
"This doesn't make sense," he whispered. "Da Vinci said it was impossible."
He remembered the explanation — her brilliant voice, her holographic diagrams, the smell of oil and coffee in her workshop.
Going back in time wasn't something humans could do.
Not truly.
The Counter Force — Gaia and Alaya — kept the timeline stable. Singularities were different; they existed only because both wills were weakened, fractured by external forces like Goetia's Grails.
But this?
This was no Rayshift. There was no Coffin, no frame, no anchor.
He hadn't been transported — he'd regressed.
"This shouldn't even register on the Root," Ritsuka murmured, pacing now. "If my body's here, and my soul's intact, then…"
He paused.
"…then my soul never reached the Throne of Heroes."
He exhaled sharply, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. "Great. Just great. Either the universe bugged out, or someone up there pressed the New Game Plus button."
He looked at his tiny hand again, flexing it.
The warmth, the pulse — everything felt real. Too real.
"Okay," he muttered, his tone calm but his thoughts racing. "Stay calm, Fujimaru. You've dealt with time gods, demon pillars, and three versions of Tiamat. You can handle being five again."
He sighed, shoulders slumping.
"...Probably."
"Ritsuka are you ok".
Ritsuka heard the voice of a woman, who opened the door.
He looked up too see her, there eye's meet, as she smiled him.
Ritsuka froze.
The moment his eyes met hers, everything around him seemed to still. The sunlight filtering through the window dimmed against her presence — a tall, elegant woman in a crimson-trimmed uniform, her hair like ink with streaks of red that shimmered when she moved. Her posture was refined, her expression calm yet warm.
"...Mother?" he said before he could stop himself.
The woman blinked, her gentle smile deepening. "You must still be half-asleep, dear," she said softly, stepping closer. "Did you have another strange dream?"
Ritsuka's heart pounded. Mother…? No. That shouldn't be possible. My mother died years before Chaldea… and even then—
But the warmth in her eyes — the exact same gentle hue he remembered from childhood photos — made his thoughts falter.
She knelt beside him, brushing a lock of his hair from his face. "You're pale," she murmured. "You really shouldn't stay up late reading those magecraft books. You're still a child, Ritsuka."
Her touch was real. Her voice was real.
So this… this really is 2004.
The realization hit him all at once. He wasn't in Chaldea. He wasn't in any Singularity. He was home.
His throat tightened as emotion threatened to spill out, but he forced a small smile. "Yeah… just a weird dream, that's all."
She gave a soft hum of relief, her fingers tracing his cheek before standing. "Good. Breakfast will be ready soon. Wash up, alright?"
Ritsuka nodded numbly, watching her leave the room — the faint scent of roses lingering in the air.
As soon as the door clicked shut, his composure cracked.
"…This shouldn't be possible," he whispered, clutching his trembling hands.
He could still feel her warmth on his skin.
And that was what terrified him most.
Meanwhile in a whole different place in reality
A beautiful, charming, and sometimes mischievous woman was floating around, She is a petite woman at 155cm and 45kg. Her most striking features include flames wreathed around her, particularly in her later stages of ascension, which are linked to her connection with an "outer god" and her fate. She also wears elaborate, ornate clothing, often with a feathered robe, that reflects her status as an imperial concubine.
[Insert image of Yang Guifie]
She was one of the Vassels of the Elder Gods, she moved her hand through the star dust then she heard it.
"YANG GUIFIE!".
The screamed could be heard at the void, as she turned her head in Puzzlement.
There standing next to her was another Vassel.
She appears as a young, attractive woman with a healthy complexion, typically wearing a colorful and complex Japanese kimono with various patterns and sashes. She has long, purple-streaked dark hair, and vivid blue eyes. Her design often incorporates artistic elements, and she typically wields a large paintbrush as her primary "weapon". Her physical age as a Servant is based on a character from the Japanese legend Nanso Satomi Eight Dogs
Next to her was a small, golden, hovering octopus with defined suction cups
[Insert image of Hokusai]
Yang Guifie titled her head a she looked at the girl. "Oei? What's wrong?".
(Author Note: sense I check, the body of Hokusai is Oei with the small Octopus Around her actually being Hokusai, so to fix that mess, I will be called her Oei, and the Octopus Hokusai)
Oei looked at Yang Guifie as she spoke. "Humanity's gone"
Yang Guifie turned as she spoke with disinterested. "Oh that's it, well nothing to fush over, each universe this will en-"
She cut of as Oei then continue. "It's Ritsuka universe".
Yang Guifie eyes Opened with shock as mental sound of Glass breaking can be heard when she heard the name of the only human she truly cared after becoming a Vassel.
She grabbed Oei solider as she creamed. "Why didn't you start with that!".
Oei flinched, almost dropping her paintbrush as Yang's grip tightened. "Ow—ow! Calm down, Yang! You nearly smudged my sleeve!" she yelped, tugging herself free as the air around them shimmered with divine heat.
Yang's aura erupted — the flames wreathing her body flared from faint blue to blinding gold, her hair floating in zero gravity as if the void itself bowed to her outrage. Her halo cracked and split into jagged arcs of light.
"What do you mean it's gone!? What happened to him!?!"
Oei quickly floated backward, holding up her brush like a warding staff. "Ok so, I was checking on that timeline, you know keeping an eye on the one person, who we saw as a real human"
Yang looked at her, as her fire burned void. "Ok, what happened to my beloved".
Oei gloved as she continue. "Well, I saw Space Collapse, I saw Time Collapse, I saw really eat it self and then"
"THEN!" Yang said with her voice Turing more like Cthugha
Oei looked at her as she spoke. "Don't Panick, but I panicked and send out beloved back in time as a kid".
Yang's flames froze.
Not extinguished — frozen.
Like the universe itself dared not move while her mind processed Oei's words. The halo above her head glitched into a sharp, burning spiral, her pupils dilating into rings of cosmic fire.
"…You what?"
Her voice didn't echo — it simply was, vibrating through the void like the law of gravity itself. Even the colorless abyss around them flickered in terror.
Oei winced, hiding Hokusai (the little octopus) behind her shoulder like a shield. "Y-you were going to panic! So I panicked first! It's not like I could just let him get erased! The whole timeline folded in on itself — Gaia, Alaya, even the Counter Force were shutting down! I didn't have time to ask for divine permission!"
Yang's flames began to move again, swirling around her in a violent, golden spiral that cracked the empty void beneath their feet.
"You sent him back in time. To when he was still mortal. Do you even comprehend what that means!?"
"I do!" Oei retorted defensively, clutching her brush. "That's why I made sure to seal his memories for now — his body couldn't handle the overload of divine contact or temporal displacement. He's safe... I think."
"You think?" Yang's tone dripped venom and disbelief. "You gambled his soul on a guess!?"
Before Oei could answer, the halo above Yang's head began to spiral faster, and with it came whispers — distorted hymns of the Elder God she served. The air rippled, forming burning sigils that pulsed like hearts.
Hokusai floated forward nervously. "Uh, Yang? Please remember the last time you got emotional. You melted half the Dreaming Sea."
Yang snapped her glare toward him, and the poor octopus quickly swam backward into Oei's hair.
Taking a deep breath, Yang closed her eyes. The flames dimmed slightly, from cosmic rage to something quieter, heavier — grief.
"…You should not have interfered, Oei," she said softly, almost a whisper. "The threads of time reject divine touch. If the Counter Force discovers what you've done, not even your brush can paint over the consequences."
Oei frowned, gripping her brush tighter. "Then what? You wanted him to just die? To be erased like the rest?"
Yang's lips parted — but no words came.
Her anger fractured into something else. Regret. Fear. Hope.
Finally, she exhaled, her flames flickering low, like a candle. "…No. Never."
Oei tilted her head, a small smirk breaking her composure. "That's what I thought. So… are you going to yell at me more, or are we going to make sure the kid survives long enough to remember who he really is?"
Yang slowly raised her gaze — the burning sigils behind her reformed into constellations.
Her golden eyes glowed with renewed determination.
"Then we will watch over him," Yang declared. "If the world rejects his existence again, I will burn the concept of rejection itself."
Oei sighed, half amused. "You always make things sound so poetic and terrifying at the same time."
"Good," Yang said, her smirk returning. "That means I'm still me."
As the two Vassals faced the fractured horizon of reality, a massive rift shimmered before them — showing faint glimpses of a young boy sitting in a small, sunlit room, staring at a calendar.
2004.
Yang reached toward it, her flame-tipped fingers brushing the edge of the temporal window.
"Ritsuka… wait for me."
Yang took a deep breath as she spoke. "Now, are you sure, you actually locked his Memory".
Oei blinked as she spoke. "Yes..... Yes".
Yang's eye twitched.
That tiny pause — that hesitation — told her everything she needed to know.
"Oei." Yang's voice was deceptively calm, but the flames on her shoulders flickered like warning lights before a detonation. "You said yes twice. That's not reassuring."
Oei immediately started to sweat, waving her hands. "Okay, okay, calm down, technically yes, I did lock them—"
"Technically?" Yang repeated, the temperature spiking so high the stardust around them began to vaporize.
Hokusai (the little octopus) floated up between them like a referee about to die for someone else's sins. "Oei, tell her the truth before she cooks the void again!"
Oei groaned, rubbing the back of her head. "Fine! Look, the memory lock should work. I tied it to his soul signature. But, uh…"
Yang crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "But?"
Oei gulped. "But since he's… you know, Ritsuka, the guy who's broken through time, space, divine systems, and emotional trauma like it's his hobby—there's a small chance his subconscious might start cracking the lock on its own."
Yang blinked slowly. "A small chance."
"Very small!" Oei held up her fingers, showing barely a centimeter of space. "Like, less than one percent! Maybe!"
Yang pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply. "Wonderful. You've created a five-year-old with the potential to accidentally remember how to kill gods before kindergarten."
Hokusai floated by, muttering, "That's… honestly terrifying."
Yang glared at Oei again. "If he wakes up one day and starts summoning Servants out of finger paint, I'm blaming you."
Oei huffed. "Hey, come on! Give me some credit! I even placed a subconscious limiter—he won't be able to access his mana circuits yet. He's basically just a normal kid."
Yang raised an eyebrow. "Oei."
"…Okay, mostly normal."
Yang exhaled again, long and slow, trying to keep her divine temper in check. Her halo flickered once, before stabilizing into a smooth ring of blue light.
Then she looked away, her tone softening slightly. "Still… it's strange, isn't it? The universe collapsing, time fracturing—and of all people, he survives."
Oei smiled faintly. "He always does. That's what makes him Ritsuka Fujimaru."
Yang's lips curved into a quiet, wistful smile. "You're right."
But that smile didn't last long. Her expression hardened again as she floated closer, golden fire dancing behind her eyes.
"Still, Oei… if anything happens to him—if his mind, his soul, anything is damaged because of your mistake—"
Oei held up her brush defensively. "I know, I know! You'll burn the concept of causality and make the universe apologize in writing."
Yang smirked. "Exactly."
For a moment, the two Vassals simply floated in the stillness of the void, the rift to Ritsuka's timeline glowing faintly before them.
Then Yang extended her hand, summoning a small wisp of golden fire. "We'll keep an eye on him. If the world tries to take him again…"
Oei nodded, finishing for her. "We'll paint it over."
And with that, the two divine beings turned their gaze toward the little boy in 2004—unaware that, even as they spoke, somewhere deep within Ritsuka's soul…
A single, faint whisper stirred.
"…Mash?"
To be continued
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