After the welcome party, Shirou looked at the living room. Even though it had been tidied up a bit, it was still somewhat messy. He could already see his future, either cleaning, or on the way to cleaning.
Luckily, Sora had brought down some garbage bags from upstairs. Otherwise, all the trash might've ended up piled on the table.
"Alright…"
Shirou skillfully sorted and cleaned everything, then packed it into garbage bags.
Before long, the living room returned to its original state. Shirou picked up a change of clothes and headed toward the bathroom.
"Good thing I cleaned the bathtub this afternoon too. I can finally enjoy a proper soak… huh?"
While changing, Shirou noticed a piece of red cloth in his pocket.
It was the Holy Shroud.
But he clearly remembered leaving it on the bed. Stepping out of the bathroom, he placed the shroud on the living room table, then returned to wash up and take a bath in one smooth sequence.
Soaking in the tub, Shirou let out a long breath.
"Now that it's quiet… it somehow feels even more unsettling."
From the moment he woke up and sensed something was wrong, to distracting himself with cleaning, then joining that strange company and hosting a welcome party only after everyone left did he feel an indescribable emotion.
Loneliness? He was not sure.
Looking at the palm of his right hand, Shirou softly muttered:
"Trace… on."
Circuit-like lines appeared, spreading from his right hand up his arm, then across his neck and face.
His consciousness cut off.
It felt as if he were sinking into a vast ocean.
"Ah… this really is your style."
He gazed at a distant sunset as he spoke.
Sinking.
"Is your treasury still full, King of Heroes?"
He stood in a world filled with countless swords, pointing one at a golden, radiant figure.
Sinking.
"This will hurt a bit, so grit your teeth and endure it!"
Holding a strange, unfamiliar sword in his left hand clearly not his own his body pierced by blades from within, he still charged resolutely toward a girl ahead of him.
Sinking.
"What kind of scene does this look like to you? A world filled with endless blades… to me, they're all gravestones."
Standing in a snowfield filled with swords, he spoke to a woman clad in golden armor.
Sinking.
"Hey, this is not a place you should be right now."
A deep male voice rang out. Then a strip of red cloth wrapped around his hand and pulled him upward.
Shirou suddenly woke up in the bathtub, jolting upright.
"Cough—cough, cough…"
After catching his breath, he stared at the Holy Shroud clenched in his right hand, still shaken.
"What… were those just now?"
He exhaled deeply, then got out of the tub.
After changing clothes, he sat on the bed.
Placing the Holy Shroud flat in front of him, Shirou tried to piece together the familiar yet distant scenes he had just witnessed.
He understood the theory of parallel worlds.
Because that person Archer who had reached the end of his ideals was both the same as him and different.
At their core, they were both Emiya Shirou. The differences came from their experiences and choices.
But the real question now was—
Why did he have those memories?
"If I want to confirm… I'll have to try again, wo not I?"
Looking at his right hand, Shirou hesitated.
After a moment, he placed his hand on the Holy Shroud and focused.
"Trace on!"
Magic circuits appeared across his arm and face, crackling.
This time, his consciousness did not fade but he could clearly feel the circuits being forced open. Sharp pain and stabbing sensations assaulted both his body and mind.
Shirou endured it without making a sound. Sweat poured down his body.
He had a feeling if he could endure this, the problem would disappear afterward.
The circuit-like lines spread across his entire body, and the pain intensified.
"Just a little more…"
Clenching his teeth, he held on.
At a certain point, the glowing lines suddenly receded, and the pain vanished instantly.
He was drenched in sweat. The lingering soreness left him unable to even get out of bed to wash up, he could only collapse onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling.
The moment the circuits withdrew, something strange appeared in his mind.
It was hard to describe but it felt like he could choose from them.
Adjusting his posture, Shirou sank his consciousness inward.
Before him stood four doors: gold, red, purple, and black.
After thinking for a moment, he pushed open the golden door.
No particular reason it was just the closest.
The moment it opened, fragments of memory flooded into his mind.
The earlier parts matched forgotten faces and names were restored here.
Then came that night.
He was dragged into a ritual called the Holy Grail War, and on the verge of death, he summoned Saber.
After that, they fought many battles. From Archer, he learned the proper way to use his magecraft.
In the end, he had Saber destroy the Holy Grail. After doing so, she disappeared.
It matched one of the earlier visions him standing there, speaking as he watched the setting sun.
That spot… was where Saber had been standing.
Afterward came ordinary daily life.
Watching Illya and Taiga bicker, Shirou smiled at their back-and-forth—
Then his consciousness was forcibly pulled away.
When he came to, he was already awake on the bed instead of remaining in that space.
Now, no matter how he tried, he could not return as if everything had just been a dream.
But the memories remained.
"So… not a user, but a creator?"
The phrase felt strangely familiar, like someone had said something similar to him before.
Shirou clenched his fists, but did not immediately try to use magecraft again.
His body protested with soreness all over.
Right now, rest was the right choice.
In the past, he might have forced himself to keep training but not here. This place was unfamiliar, and he could not rely on others.
Though sore, it was only like overexertion not enough to keep him bedridden.
After stretching a bit beside the bed, Shirou went to the living room.
On the table were a few books, along with a small stack of cash and two cards. A note was stuck to the money:
"Will deduct from your future salary spend it freely."
Shirou checked the cards.
One was his identification in Lungmen.
The other was his Penguin Logistics employee ID, using the photo taken last night.
After putting away the cards and money in his room, he did a quick wash, grabbed a cup of water and some leftover bread for breakfast.
Then began absorbing knowledge about this world.