A scorching hell spread across her entire field of vision. Spiraling pillars of flame rose toward the heavens, and what beat mercilessly against her ears were cries of pain and voices steeped in resentment.
Fiore had never witnessed anything like this.
Before she knew it, she had been thrown into this blazing world.
A city she did not recognize was decaying in the maw of raging fire. At her feet lay blackened human shapes, impossible to identify, and even now countless others were losing their lives within the inferno.
Faced with such despair, Fiore could not even speak—she could only stare.
Yes… this must be a dream. Not Fiore's own memory, but a glimpse into Archer's past.
She had heard that a Master spiritually linked to a Servant may, at times, relive the Servant's memories in dreams.
When she first learned that, she looked forward to it.
If one were contracted to a hero from myth, then one could witness scenes from the Age of Gods within one's dreams.
Such visions were supposed to be impossible for living humans to ever behold—ancient landscapes and mythic battles that could be felt only through legend. If it were a dream, she thought she could experience it like watching a film.
She had thought that.
But she never had enough resolve to peer into Archer's past.
——This… this is Archer's past.
There was no color here except despair.
The sky was covered in a tar-like layer of dark clouds; the ground was buried beneath flames and death.
The malice saturating this world was more intense than any curse Fiore had ever known.
Even knowing it was a dream, her heart felt as though it were being torn apart.
What had happened in this city?
A natural disaster? A war? Had calamity descended upon the inhabitants without warning? Were the wails flooding the city coming from those who failed to escape?
The crackle of flames, the roar of scorching winds—every sound seemed infused with hatred.
In that sea of despair, a lone boy struggled to survive.
Clutching his ears, closing his eyes, ignoring cries for help, shaking off the hands that reached out to him. Who could possibly blame him? A child barely ten had no capacity to save others here. If he diverted even a sliver of attention, he would be swallowed by smoke and fire in an instant.
And yet the boy walked without stopping, until sunrise.
He eventually realized he was lying on his back amid a scorched wasteland.
The flames had long died down. Above, heavy rain clouds blanketed the sky.
Rain would come soon, surely.
That was fine.
If rain fell, then perhaps this hell would finally be washed clean.
Around him lay charred human remains—shrunk and blackened beyond recognition, no longer even retaining human form.
These people had been reduced to this—so why was he alive?
It must have simply been luck.
Ah… but this was the end for him.
Breathing alone hurt. His stamina was completely spent, his sense of his own body fading.
Even so, he reached a hand toward the sky.
He didn't know why.
He only thought vaguely, The sky is so far away…
That simple motion used up the last scraps of his strength.
Unable to resist the sudden wave of exhaustion, the boy fell into darkness.
In that final moment—
A strong hand caught his before it could hit the ground.
He remembered the face.
A man, tears pooling in his eyes, overjoyed from the depths of his heart to have found a living survivor.
—
□
Her awakening was the worst she'd ever felt.
It had been a nightmare unlike any she had experienced.
Sitting up in her bed, Fiore could not hide her inner turmoil and exhaled shakily.
What she saw had undeniably been Archer's past.
A boy on the verge of death in a burnt wasteland had been saved by someone—
and that boy's path had eventually led him to become the Archer she knew.
Pieces of information about Archer were fitting together inside her mind.
Archer claimed he had no memories—
and indeed, the only evidence that could prove otherwise was the Command Seals.
But the fact that she had dreamt his memories meant that at least the portion she saw had returned to him.
So then—why had he not told her?
Fiore believed they had built a solid foundation of trust.
At the very least, she trusted him completely.
Yet Archer continued to hide himself.
Aside from knowing he was a magus who used Projection Magecraft, she had no other clues to his life.
A cold wind seemed to blow through her heart.
It wasn't betrayal.
It was something more vague—
A fear that he did not trust her in return.
Which gave rise to a faint, shapeless anger.
"But… if he lived through such a catastrophe, I can understand not wanting to talk about it…"
Yes—what she saw was real.
It was Archer's starting point.
He was a survivor of hell itself.
How could she demand he revisit that trauma with words?
Rationally and emotionally, she sympathized with him.
She felt the weight of that tragedy.
So she did not want to pry open his old wounds.
Even so—
Knowing all this logically only made her more curious.
As she contemplated Archer's past, she found a growing desire:
She wanted to know more.
To know how that boy, saved at the brink of death, rose to become a Heroic Spirit—an extremely rare modern Heroic Spirit.
What had he seen in that life?
That curiosity burned in her quietly.
—
Archer, having been summoned by Fiore, could not understand why she looked so displeased.
Had he done something wrong?
The only thing that came to mind was the homunculus he'd helped escape, but that matter had already been settled.
"Did you not have something you wished to speak with me about?"
There was no point guessing, so he simply asked.
Fiore looked troubled, then sighed.
"Archer. I have something I wish to ask—about your memories."
Hearing that, he understood.
"So, you saw my past."
It wasn't a question—he knew.
And indeed, she nodded.
"I'm sorry. I never intended to look without your permission."
"I'm aware. It's not as though I have any past worth boasting about. Being seen changes nothing. But that isn't what you wish to say."
"…No."
Her displeasure likely came from the fact that Archer had never shared any of this with her.
He had insisted his memories were unclear…
And then she saw them in a dream.
Of course she would be upset.
"Fiore. What exactly did you see?"
"A burning city. And… you, when you were young."
"…I see."
A nostalgic scene indeed.
That was Archer's starting line—the day the Fourth Holy Grail War of Fuyuki, driven mad by the corrupted Grail, destroyed everything.
And there, he had seen a dream—
A dream so powerful it became an obsession, one that pushed him to become a Heroic Spirit.
"That means… you are a Heroic Spirit from the modern era, or perhaps the future."
"…"
Archer fell silent at her conclusion.
"I found it hard to believe. But your clothing as a child… it could only be from the modern era. I don't know why you were summoned instead of Chiron, but Heroic Spirits transcend timelines. There must be a reason beyond my understanding. What I wish to confirm is your memory—why you never told me."
Crossing his arms, Archer met her gaze.
Her eyes said she would allow no lies.
She regretted glimpsing his past, but still resented his silence.
"One thing I must clarify: I have not fully regained my memories. They were indeed confused upon summoning. What I remember is still limited."
"Is that true?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
"My memories of life remain faint. But some things remain vivid—what you saw among them."
"Then… what was that?"
She asked cautiously.
"A result of a certain failed magical ritual. A game of life and death between seven magi and seven Servants."
"Th—that's… is that not…?"
"Yes. The Holy Grail War. When I was a child, I was caught in the Fourth Holy Grail War of Fuyuki. I lost everything—family, and all memories before that. I was saved by one of the participating magi."
Fiore paled.
"A Holy Grail… War ended like that?"
"Yes."
"That's… impossible…"
To her, the Grail was a wish-granting miracle.
Seeing the Great Grail with her own eyes only reinforced that belief.
But what Archer had lived through… was not a miracle. It was catastrophe.
A corrupted Grail had shown her how easily disaster could be wrought.
"But Archer—you said the fourth Grail War…?"
"Yes."
"That cannot be. The Fuyuki Grail Wars ended with the third. The Great Grail is here, in our possession."
Indeed, in this world, the wars had ended with the Third.
Darnic had acquired the Grail before a Fourth War could ever occur.
Thus, a Fourth could not exist here.
But Archer smiled wryly.
"That is true—in this world. For Heroic Spirits, worldlines do not matter. In the world where I lived, Darnic never took the Fuyuki Grail."
"So… you are from a completely different parallel world?"
That would make sense for a Heroic Spirit.
But then why had he been summoned, instead of Chiron?
Normally, future or parallel-world heroes were nearly impossible to summon.
Even without a catalyst, past heroes should always take priority.
Their connection to the present was stronger.
"Then why were you summoned?"
"Because you prepared the catalyst."
"But I had no such catalyst—"
Her words cut off.
Her gaze fell upon the red jewel pendant hanging from Archer's hand.
"That's…"
She hurriedly took out the pendant around her own neck.
"Identical… the exact same pendant…"
Archer nodded softly.
"In my world, the owner of this pendant was the one who saved my life. I always carried it, believing it was his keepsake."
"And I happened to acquire the same pendant here… and brought it to the ritual chamber… That summoned you?"
"Most likely."
A convergence of countless coincidences.
A jewel she happened to notice—
which she happened to bring—
and which happened to be identical to the one Archer possessed.
An accident at first…
But the moment the pendant entered the ritual, Archer's summoning became inevitable.
"One question, if I may."
"Yes?"
"About the Holy Grail. You said you saw it with your own eyes. What was it like?"
"How do you mean…?"
Among Yggdmillennia's faction, only Darnic and Fiore had seen the Great Grail.
Fiore had been permitted to see it prior to Archer's summoning.
"It held an enormous reservoir of magical energy unlike anything I'd felt. I believed completely that it could reshape the world upon completion. Why?"
"No reason. I merely wished to confirm. If you saw it closely with no issues, then this Grail must be safe."
"Your world's Grail had a problem, didn't it?"
"Indeed. But Darnic has spent half a century studying this one. I had few doubts—but hearing it from you is reassuring."
"And if it had been the same as yours?"
"Then destruction would have been the only answer. You saw it in my dream—Fuyuki burned because a fragment of a corrupted Grail leaked. If this Grail were the same, we would have to destroy it."
"A corrupted Grail…"
Fiore whispered the words.
The Grail stored pure magical energy, neither good nor evil.
That purity allowed it to grant any wish—but also made it vulnerable to corruption.
In Archer's world, its vast power had been tainted by some malevolent wish…
and when released, that power devastated the world.
"In the coming days, you may see more of my dreams. With my memories incomplete, they will likely be distorted."
"I understand."
Memory erosion—
likely temporary.
Something might trigger recovery later.
And since she could see his memories in dreams, lying to her would serve no purpose.
Given that he was a Heroic Spirit from a parallel future, there was nothing more for him to hide.
"Then, Archer—please tell me your true name."
"Shirou. Emiya Shirou."
"Emiya Shirou… yes, it does sound like a Japanese name."
Emiya family name, Shirou given name.
With that revelation of his origin and name, Fiore's mood softened.
Exchanging names created trust.
"Archer… will you be reporting this to Darnic?"
She hesitated.
Their agreement had been to reveal all Servants' names to maintain unity.
But exceptions had been made: Saber, for strategic reasons; and Archer, due to his confused memories.
Was there a need to change that now?
"…No. I think you may remain as you are—for now. An unknown Servant is more inconvenient for the enemy. Let them deepen their paranoia."
"Very well."
Archer accepted her decision with a nod.
Revealing his identity posed no real risk—
his future-parallel nature made researching him impossible.
But if the enemy realized that, they would cease searching.
Better to keep them guessing.
And perhaps…
Fiore admitted to herself, she liked being the only one who knew his name.
Only after Archer left did she realize this selfish thought had influenced her decision, and she sighed.