"Cut the fake politeness! What's your business with Emiya?" Her mouth twists into a creepy smile.
I put my bounded field up first. Being a bounded field specialist makes it easy; I don't even need an incantation.
I create a recovery field, a movable one that only affects me. It boosts my magical energy regeneration.
Most magus draw from the energy around them. Not me. Bounded fields demand pure energy, so I use myself as a vessel.
"I just wanted to see his death." With that, Illyasviel leaves.
Sigh. There's no way I can fight while carrying Shirou. And without deploying my Noble Phantasm, I don't think I can stand against a Servant.
"Ugh…" Shirou mumbles against my back.
"Sorry for the rough ride, buddy. I'll get you home." His house isn't far. Only a few streets away.
I arrive without a problem. Luckily, nobody is home.
I change Shirou's clothes; they're bloodied and torn. Then I lay him in bed.
"I hope he left something to eat…" I rummage through the cupboards, but there's nothing ready, just ingredients.
I guess I can use eggs and kimchi to make scrambled kimchi. For both Shirou and me.
My consciousness is only five years old. Ever since I became aware, I was taught only magecraft. That's why, back then, I lived on nothing but instant food. Bread, mostly. Even now, I still rely on simple meals I can cook quickly.
Done. Not the most appetizing dinner, but it'll work.
Shirou… I should check on him.
I open the bedroom door and nearly bump into him.
"Ryouma, what are you doing in my house?" He blinks at me. Damn. He just survived death and he's asking questions?
"Didn't I tell you I'd teach you magecraft tonight? Besides, who else brought you here?" I keep it blunt. No time for nonsense.
Shirou's face goes white. His body looks like it wants to scream.
"Oh shit…" Lancer is here. That's why Shirou is terrified.
I get close and put my hands on his shoulders. "I need you to strengthen anything that can be used as a weapon right now."
He calms a little. A military-requirements poster lies on the table. Taiga said it was metal. Perfect.
I grab it and shove it at him. "Right now!" I don't have patience; Lancer moves fast.
Shirou strains and channels what he can. He works the metal into something usable. I don't know exactly what he does, but it's enough.
"Concept change." I reshape the poster in my mind; it folds into a pocketknife.
Shirou turns a mop into a rough pole arm and holds it like a sword.
…Shit. "Voile!" I cloak Shirou until he blurs from casual sight.
"Don't interrupt! I'll handle this." I can't sense the Servant's presence clearly, but I feel him. He's above us. Before I can look up, Lancer drops from the ceiling.
"Run, Shirou. Run!"
A pocketknife against a Lancer. Ridiculous, but we don't have time to argue.
"Oh, two magus in one night?" Lancer smiles and gives me no opening to counterattack.
Every time I block, his speed increases. My body starts to take over; reflexes move me before I think.
"Lancer! Tell me your Master's name!" I need even the smallest window to strike.
He never answers. He thrusts the lance and shatters my knife.
I should have used actual blood to summon.
Lancer kicks me and sends me flying.
I smash through the house and somehow land on top of Shirou.
Ribs snap. My lungs burn; the ribs dig into them from the inside. I choke, tightening my grip to my throat so I don't breathe too hard.
Pain spikes with every second. My eyes sting from blood and whatever's in the air. My magical energy flares, and that only makes it worse.
The blood filling my lungs, the burning in my eyes. I hate it. I hate it all.
Lancer doesn't even look back as he goes after Shirou into the shed.
"Lancer! I'll say this once. I'll fucking kill your Master!" I force myself up. The lance goes through me."
It pierces through my heart. I can't feel a pulse.
I puke blood without even knowing my body. When the lance was retracted I fell without a support.
My blood was warm like a cozy warm bed with cold pillow.
But right now the grass was my bed. While my blood was the blanket.
Did I die like this? Pathetic.
"Ryouma. Let me at least punch him!" I yell at real Ryouma
"You're already dead. Concept." The voice is emotionless. He's right. I'm just a concept. From the beginning.
It's a miracle, he let me control the body for 5 years.
I wasn't even supposed to exist.
The real Ryouma had no morals, no emotions, no empathy.
I sigh. Those five years have been… fun in their own way.
I can only smile at the memories: I was the first fake who could summon. I lived under a bridge for three years. I ate raw rats because I couldn't cook.
I guess it's all… forgotten.
My vision blurs. I can feel myself losing weight, shrinking away. I can feel the fracture inside me. My soul is cracking.
"Sigh… Fine. But the next time you die, it'll be permanent." The voice cuts through the silence like a knife.
Then everything clears. I wake up and all the damage is gone. My body is fully restored.
The same night. The same moon I died and resurrected.
Clank. Clack. Metal grinding on metal.
It pulls my eyes.
A woman in blue armor with blonde hair fighting Lancer, her weapon flickering with wind clearly invisible.
Shirou summoned King Artoria as his Servant.