Kurono sat slumped in the old wooden chair, feeling the weight of the silence that pressed down on him like a heavy fog. He knew the others would be arriving soon, the familiar chatter of the club filling the space. Yet, here he was, trapped in this moment of awkward stillness with Shirazaki. She had always been a little elusive, her thoughts hidden behind that veil of uncertainty. But now, there was something different in her gaze—a spark, a flicker of something she was about to say. Something important.
He could feel the tension building in the air, both of them caught in a delicate dance, unsure of how to break the silence without stepping on each other's words.
"Um..." Kurono began, but before he could continue, Shirazaki spoke at the same time.
"Uh..."
Their voices collided in the empty space, awkwardly overlapping before trailing off in mutual discomfort. Kurono forced out a half-hearted laugh.
"Ah... sorry," he muttered, trying to brush off the blunder.
"It's fine..." Shirazaki replied, her voice soft but tinged with the same unease that clung to the room. There was something unspoken between them, something they both sensed but couldn't quite address.
He gestured awkwardly for her to continue. "Please, go ahead—"
"No, it's fine. You can go first, Kurono-kun," she insisted, her words more hesitant than usual.
Kurono felt a strange flutter in his chest. Despite the awkwardness, he couldn't shake the feeling that this moment meant more than either of them could admit. But what could he possibly say? He wasn't exactly known for his eloquence, and as he opened his mouth to speak, all he could muster was a dull observation. "I was just wondering why the others are so late."
It was a completely mundane remark, something that didn't even begin to scratch the surface of the tension he was feeling. He felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. How boring.
Shirazaki's response was equally unremarkable. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing…" She trailed off, looking down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting nervously.
A few seconds passed before she suddenly shifted in her seat, her voice lowering as though she was about to reveal something crucial. "Well, that's not what I meant to say, actually."
The words hung in the air, and for the first time, Kurono noticed the slight tremor in her hands, the way her eyes darted away from him, as if she were unsure of how to continue. His heart skipped a beat. She wasn't just trying to pass the time—there was something deeper here.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice quiet, cautious.
Shirazaki stood up, her movements sharp and determined, a stark contrast to her usual composed demeanor. For the first time, she looked directly at him—those wide, round eyes locking with his. It was as if a door had opened in her heart, revealing a glimpse of something she had been hiding. The determination in her gaze sent a chill down his spine, and for a fleeting moment, he felt like the world had slowed.
"It was... a lie," she said, the words coming out in a rush.
"Eh? What was a lie?" Kurono asked, genuinely confused. His mind couldn't catch up with the sudden shift. He understood the meaning of her words, but not the context behind them. Why had she lied?
"The meeting I told you about earlier," Shirazaki clarified, her voice thick with hesitation. "It was a lie."
Kurono blinked, trying to process her words. A lie? His mind whirred, but there was no anger or resentment in his heart. He wasn't mad—he just didn't understand. "Oh, really? Is that so?"
His response was weak, as if his mind hadn't fully grasped the weight of what she had said. But before he could delve deeper, Shirazaki opened her mouth again, the words hanging on the tip of her tongue.
"Well, that is because, you see..." she trailed off, her gaze dropping to the floor, and the words that had been so close to escaping her lips were suddenly silenced.
The room fell into an eerie quiet, the seconds stretching into what felt like hours. Kurono, unsure of what to do, remained still, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. What was it? What was she trying to tell him?
"Shirazaki...?" he asked gently, sensing the change in her.
But before she could speak again, she seemed to falter, the words stuck in her throat. Then, without warning, her voice rose, a sudden burst of emotion breaking through the quiet. "About Kurono-kun—!!"
Kurono leaned forward, his heart racing. What about me? The question burned in his mind, but before he could hear the rest of her sentence, the world around him began to distort.
Suddenly, everything went silent. Not just the room—everything. It was as if someone had pressed mute on the entire world. He couldn't hear his own breathing, couldn't hear Shirazaki's voice, couldn't even hear the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. A heavy, suffocating silence enveloped him.
Why can't I hear anything? His mind screamed, but there was no sound. His pulse quickened, panic rising in his chest. Then, a searing pain shot through his head, far worse than any headache he had ever experienced before. It wasn't just a dull throb—it was as if his skull was being crushed from the inside.
"Agh!" Kurono gasped, clutching his head, his vision blurring as the pain intensified. The room seemed to spin around him, the edges of his sight darkening. The floor rushed up to meet him, and before he knew it, he had collapsed from the chair, the world slipping away.
Every second felt like an eternity as the pain raged through him. His body throbbed with agony, but through the haze of pain, all he could think of was Shirazaki's face—her tear-filled eyes staring down at him, her hands reaching for him as he writhed on the floor.
She's... crying?
Despite the overwhelming pain, despite the chaos swirling in his mind, Kurono felt his heart ache at the sight of her distress. He couldn't focus on anything else but her, and in that moment, his vision became a swirling mass of black sand, as though the world itself was slipping through his fingers.
"Wake up, Kurono. We have company."
The familiar voice jolted him awake, the world snapping back into focus as he gasped for air. The pain was gone, the silence shattered. For a moment, he had thought he had been lost in some strange fever dream, but the words lingered in his mind. We have company. Who was speaking? What was happening?
Kurono blinked rapidly, the confusion thick in his mind. He had been on the verge of something—something important—but now, it felt as if it had slipped away, like a dream he couldn't quite recall.
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Kurono awoke with a jolt, his mind still caught in the remnants of a dream so vivid, it felt like he had glimpsed a world where everything was perfect. Utopia, he thought, blinking rapidly to clear his mind. It had been the same dream again—the one where Shirazaki, her face flushed with emotion, was about to confess to him. The anticipation of her words hung in the air, but as always, the moment was torn away, swallowed by the cruel fog of reality.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake off the drowsiness. He wasn't dense, not anymore. Over time, after all the quiet moments of contemplation, Kurono had begun to piece things together. He understood now—the emotions he felt for Shirazaki weren't ones of mere friendship. The depth of them, the way his heart beat faster in her presence, was something more. But, as was often the case in dreams, the revelation came just a moment too late.
"Wake up, Kurono. We have company."
The voice of Shirou pulled him sharply back to the present. His eyes flew open, and for a moment, everything around him seemed unreal. It wasn't the quiet of his bedroom or the hallways of the academy. The world felt foreign, unfamiliar, like a shadowy reflection of the place he had once known.
Kurono shook his head, trying to clear the remnants of the dream from his thoughts. His companion, Shirou, was standing before him, the familiar mischievous grin stretched across his face. But there was an edge to his expression now, something that spoke of caution and urgency. Kurono could tell by the way he stood, tense and alert, that this wasn't just another day. No, this was different.
"We've been recruited by the Duchess," Shirou said quickly, his voice low but firm, "so we will follow them until we find the chance to escape. My name is Gilgamesh, and your name is Enkidu for now."
Kurono blinked, not fully comprehending at first. He opened his mouth to speak, but Shirou held up a hand, cutting him off.
"Just follow my lead, and don't talk about the other world until we're out of here."
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Kurono's sleepiness vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden sharpness in his senses. Whatever was happening, it was clear they weren't in a position to ask too many questions.
He nodded, his mind still sluggish from sleep but steadily picking up the pieces of the situation. "I'll keep it in mind."
Shirou's gaze softened slightly, though there was still a serious edge to his demeanor. "Act like you're meeting your favorite celebrity," he continued, his tone more excited now, "because that's our story. We came from Pandora to meet our heroes—Semiramis, Arthur, and Merlin."
Kurono's eyes lit up at the mention of those names. His mind raced back to the stories and novels he had devoured as a child, the ones filled with legendary figures and heroic deeds. Pandora. Semiramis. Arthur and Merlin. These weren't just stories; they were real, a part of this world.
Suddenly, the dreariness of the situation didn't feel so heavy. In fact, his entire demeanor shifted. The light from the dream—the one where Shirazaki had been about to confess—flickered in his mind, giving him just enough energy to throw himself into the moment.
"Wohoo! Let's go! Let's go! When can we meet the Duchess?" Kurono exclaimed, his excitement palpable as he shook Shirou's shoulder. His voice echoed in the quiet room, louder than it had been in a long time. For a brief moment, it felt like he had been transported into one of those novels—the adventure he had always dreamed about.
Shirou looked at him, a mixture of amusement and relief crossing his face. "Maybe tomorrow, but we can stay at the Palace tonight."
"Really?" Kurono asked, his face lighting up with genuine excitement.
"Yeah," Shirou replied, smiling now. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. Kurono might not have the strength of a seasoned warrior or the wisdom of an experienced leader, but he wasn't a burden. Not yet, anyway. Shirou had been worried, but it seemed like Kurono was more capable than he had expected.
With that, the two of them gathered their things and made their way out of the inn. Kurono's heart raced as he followed Shirou into the cool night air, the excitement of the unknown buzzing in his chest.
They arrived outside, where a figure stood waiting, a figure that radiated authority and power. Achilles, his name whispered through history, stood there with a confident grin on his face.
"Follow me!" Achilles commanded, his voice full of flair. There was something about him, a magnetic presence that made Kurono stand a little straighter, despite the chaos that had surrounded him only moments ago.
With a snap of his fingers, the air seemed to ripple, and three magnificent steeds appeared before them—each one as majestic as the last. The horses' wings fluttered in the air, their sleek bodies gleaming under the moonlight. And behind them, a golden chariot appeared, pulled by the legendary creatures with a grace that spoke of myth and legend.
Kurono's mouth hung open in awe as he stared at the creatures, their powerful forms standing like statues of old. He had read of such things, dreamed of them, but now they were here—alive.
Achilles took their hands, guiding them with ease onto the chariot. Kurono clung to the edge, his excitement threatening to spill over as the chariot lifted into the air, the flying horses beating their wings in unison, carrying them into the night.
As they soared above the city, Kurono couldn't help but feel like he was part of something greater than himself, something legendary. This wasn't just a dream. This was real. And he was here—in the middle of it all.
"Let's go," Achilles said, his voice filled with the kind of confidence that only heroes seemed to possess.
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The chariot hurtled through the sky at a speed so breathtaking that Kurono had to grip the edge tightly to keep himself steady. The wind whipped around him, rushing with the force of a thousand storms, but he barely noticed it. His mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, most of them centered on the same question: What kind of world is this?
The night was thick with the scent of the air as it changed with altitude, and in the distance, the city seemed like a scattering of jewels, each building glowing softly beneath the twinkling stars. The chariot, drawn by the three majestic winged steeds, moved with the kind of fluidity that seemed to defy the very laws of nature. The sensation of flight was intoxicating, and Kurono couldn't help but feel that he was no longer a mere spectator of this grand tale, but an active player—part of something larger than he had ever imagined.
Beside him, Shirou's gaze was steady, his expression focused. Kurono noticed the slight furrow in his brow, the tension that hadn't fully left his shoulders. It was clear that Shirou wasn't just reveling in the spectacle, as he might have once done. No, something was on his mind.
Shirou's thoughts, however, were interrupted as the chariot flew over the city, and a small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. So it's true, he thought. The copies here do seem to share powers with their counterparts back in my world. The same Noble Phantasms, perhaps even identical in every way.
He had suspected this for some time, but now, flying through the air at this breakneck speed, it confirmed his growing concerns. He had fought against Archer and Gilgamesh in the past—two of the most formidable figures in his world—and both of them had held back. At that time, Shirou had been a stranger to most of what he now understood, a mere novice in the vast web of conflicts he had found himself caught in. But now, after fighting day in and day out alongside Hercules, Medusa, and Artoria, his experience had sharpened to a razor's edge.
Shirou knew that he could hold his own against Artoria now, and against Hercules, too, if he had to. But there was always room for growth, and his path wasn't one of stagnation. With each battle, he was edging closer to their level. He was stronger, faster, more capable. In this world, there were legends waiting to be surpassed.
The thought of Achilles, his current companion and a hero whose name echoed through history, brought a quiet respect to Shirou's mind. Achilles was a Rider—a legendary figure with a spear capable of piercing anything, a spear that shimmered with a power beyond mortal comprehension. Shirou couldn't see the shield, Akhilleus Kosmos, which was said to be like an entire world in itself, a shield that could block even the most devastating of attacks, but he had no doubt it was with them, hidden from view. The aura around the spear alone was enough to confirm it. It was an artifact blessed by immortals, not mortals, and Shirou knew that weapons like these were not to be trifled with.
This experience, this flight, gave him a much deeper understanding of what he might face in this world. The Servants were formidable, but the Apostles were supposed to be something more. They were the avatars of the White Lord, and their strength, at least in Shirou's estimation, would far surpass even the greatest of Servants. Perhaps even more than Hercules or Artoria.
But Shirou could only theorize for now. It was the real experience that would show him the true extent of their power. There was no other way to learn, no way but to face them head-on when the time came.
"Lord Achilles, can I ask a question?" Shirou's voice broke through his contemplations, calm yet probing. They were nearing the palace now, the grand silhouette of it beginning to appear in the distance. It was a sprawling, ancient structure that looked like it had been carved from the very bones of the earth.
Achilles glanced at him, his expression relaxed. "Go ahead, I don't mind."
Shirou hesitated for a moment, unsure of how direct he should be. But the openness in Achilles' demeanor emboldened him. "How strong are you in comparison to the weakest Apostle of the White Lord?"
The question hung in the air, a sharp, cutting thing. Achilles' gaze flickered for a brief second, his lips curling slightly in amusement. He'd heard this question before, undoubtedly, but it wasn't the kind of thing one often asked outright. It was the kind of question that could get a person in trouble—dangerous territory, after all.
But Achilles was not a man to shy away from such inquiries. He was a warrior of legend, someone whose very name was synonymous with battle, and he had no problem answering.
"You shouldn't ask such questions from others," Achilles said, his voice surprisingly gentle, though there was a tinge of warning beneath the words. "It's the kind of thing that can get you into trouble. But I'll answer yours." His eyes grew a shade more serious. "I can fight against the weakest of the Apostles. It would be a battle I'd lose, no doubt, but I'd be able to hold my ground. The difference in power would be around 20% to 30%."
Shirou's brow furrowed slightly as he processed the information. To think that Achilles, a hero of untold might, could only hold his own against the weakest Apostle—it was both a sobering and enlightening thought.
"They're really strong," Shirou murmured, mostly to himself, though his voice carried the weight of a deeper question. "I wonder if I'll ever get to see one of them."
"You will, sooner or later," Achilles replied, his tone cryptic but full of quiet confidence. "But don't go rushing into something you're not prepared for. When the time comes, you'll know."
The chariot continued its swift course, flying high over the city's majestic towers and buildings. Kurono, who had been silently taking in the scenery, now shifted his attention back to the palace grounds below, his thoughts racing with everything that had been revealed.
As they neared the palace, the chariot made a seamless descent, landing gracefully on the grounds without so much as a bump. Achilles didn't waste any time. Without a word, he led them straight through the grand courtyard, the marble floors echoing underfoot as they passed.
"Stay on your best behavior," Achilles said, his tone light but carrying an air of command. "Keep in mind that not everyone here is as easy-going as me. People have their positions, and they'll expect you to respect that."
Shirou gave a slight nod, his mind still reeling from the knowledge he had just gained. He followed closely behind, ready for whatever would come next, but his heart stirred with anticipation.