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40% WORM: Fate-ful Encounters / Chapter 2: 2- Emiya

Capítulo 2: 2- Emiya

1st POV:

"There he goes again, singing like-" Arlo, the fucking ass, "I know right? He's such a wee-" Jessica, the popular girl. "Why not increase-" Just fucking ignore them and continue on, add more fuel to the fire. *Squeak, Whoosh* "When the winds are slow and the fire is hot, the smith waits to see what's wrought." Just keep singing, keep focus entirely on the blade, Judge the concept of creation, a sword meant to be forged to be sharp and ready for battle.

"There he goes again, I swear if he wasn't such a spacey idiot when he wasn't thinking about shit like anime we would probably be done this class by now." Aiden, the giant 6'2 ass, continues to insult me, "I'm totally going to do it." I don't know what Jessica is talking about, but I don't care.

Hypothesizing the basic structure, what kinda of sword do I want, Tanto? Katana? German Zweihander? Nah, a curved blade like Kanshou…. umu, "Alright, Smithing Start!" *Cling* Clang* *Ting* *Tang* In. Out. Breathe with the beat, Hammer Down, Hammer Up, Hammer Down, Hammer Up.

Let everything else fade away, the only things that exist is the sword and you. The forge and the weapon. You have the composition material, now it's time to imitate the skill of its making. Remember the guides, bend the metal and- Fuck, too cold, put it back in, let it heat back up to be malleable enough.

*Woosh* The pedal presses the wind into the fire, add some more coal into the furnace and we wait.

"Hey teacher, Tree's at it again!" Continue to ignore them, the sword is everything. "Damn it! *Sigh* At least he started now instead of the middle of class…" Sorry, teach, but I'm not paying attention right now! Pull! *Woosh* Now that's a red-hot blade, *Metal scraping, low whistling noise* Hmm? No, not important, back to my sword.

"The hammer dances, the Iron sings. With each bash, the sword rings." Now for to quench, plunge it in nice and fast, and- *KABOOOOOOOSH*

An explosion, right by the oil he had set up, a nearby propane tank leaking ignited by the hot metal and splashing oil, his unfinished sword, he could feel the heat as it dissipated into his body, his lung punctured and heart impaled. Tree, as his classmates would call him, reached for the sword, her felt the blood boil in his throat and exit his mouth in a cough.

He fell to his knees, the class-room silent as students and teacher alike looked on in horror, red-hot unfinished blade, taken his very life. He would've made a joke about living by the sword and dying by it, but he was already gone.

And then he was awake, in a dumpster, his head swimming, Alaya, Counter Force, The blood spilled on his hands. Yet he remembered more vividly his life as a normal student obsessed with Persona and Fate. He looked at his hands, tanned skin that wasn't yet was his own, callouses weren't there anymore yet- It was just a reflex, an instinct really. The influx of knowledge he now had facilitated it nicely.

"Kanshou, Bakuya" The married blades rested in his hands, the filth and rotting food seemed to fade away and not overwhelm his senses as he stared at the blades, and then look inwards.

"I am the bone of my sword." A simple invocation, an open, barren desert with monolithic black gears grinding in the sky. A kingdom of rubble littered with a countless number, of swords anchored in the ground like grave markers in a wasteland, yet are well-preserved.

"I need to know where I am." Instantly his mind started work gathering a plan, his body felt strung tight. He was giddy with excitement as he astralized and escaped the metal coffin of rotting food. He leaped with a single bound onto the top of the whatever building and or restaurant he was by right now.

"Testing, Testing, 1,2,3." He chuckled with mirth, his voice exactly like Junichi Suwabe, his eyes roamed over where he was before stopping on an oil rig that appeared to be in the middle of the Bay nearby, a force field around it.

Archer Fell to his knees, his palms on the ground as he took it in, he understood where he was. His body started to shake, not from fear, but from excitement. He was going to steal Armsmaster's Halberd and stick it up his ass if he had a chance.

"Alright. Time to get this show on the road though." He quickly recovered, stretched and then looked down at his body once more, he seemed to have a swimmer's build, and he was just fine with that.

"Right.. clothes, I need them- Oh right!" His clothes materialized on him. Glasses he had no need of, a tasteful white shirt with jeans and a gradient blue shirt. "Drip or drown? Nah, I look good." He landed on the street entering the alley he exited, he returned to normal form, and exited. Getting a surprised look from other all around.

It wasn't very often you saw a Japanese man, young even, not wearing the colours of the ABB in Brockton bay, so when they saw his tanned skin, muscles and white hair, they chose to leave the probable cape alone. Still, being 6'2, or around 17 cm's above the average east Asian male height, was a boon to him and his confidence, people stepped out of the way.

"...us a lot of money!" Archer's head turned to the side, seeing an old woman cornered by two men, both wore red and green armbands. A Tofu cart was flipped on it's side and a younger girl was being hovered over by 3 others.

"I-I-I already told you, I don't know where that good for nothing son of mine is." The Oba-san shrunk back as the man in front loomed over her more. "You think this is a game!?" One of the other three pushed the two in front of her away, screaming at her.

Yet, Archer's feet were already moving. "You think anybody is going to help you!? WE ARE AZN BAD BOYS, SON!" Archer was just a foot away when a blade was in his hands, already they started to rough up the kind looking Oba-san who tried to calm her clearly upset granddaughter.

"I'm going to wipe the floor with you all." All of their heads whipped to Archer, his glasses gleamed as he crouched and reached for the Handel of Kiku-ichimonji. "What?" The first guy who threatened the lady asks.

"NO ONE THREATENS THE ABB!" The guy, who was rough-housing the Oba-san, whipped out two golden pistols and levelled them at Archer, he smirked, and rushed forward. Already he could hear "BOW" by MFS in his head as he utilized Iaijutsu, the first two round sliced in half he was already upon the group. The blade tasted the flesh of his first victim, slicing the wrist sides ways and getting him to drop on the pistol.

Archer dropped to his back as a Tanto sliced through the air, his sword already back in its sheath as he spun. His legs kicking out the legs of Pistol man, then rolled away to dodge the stab from the first Tanto man.

"Shit! Hashimoto-sama!" A lieutenant then? The pistol dropped, rested firmly in his left, and fired a shot at the man closest to the child. "My leg!" who dropped a pipe, the child quickly picked it up and backed away, running around the crowd of ABB that was solely Focused on Archer.

"You know who we are? You dare attack Lung's men!?" Hashimoto nursed his cut wrist and quickly tied and offered a bandage around it to stem the bleeding. "And?" He asked, stumping them all, before he threw a hand forward, a standard Kunai landing in the foot of one holding a bat.

"I don't give a shit who you work for. Hell, I'm not even helping the Oba-san." The civilians who had retreated perked their heads up, "I just wanted to pick a fight, and you seemed like an easy target. That's what you do, right?" All the men that could run, rushed him, his smirk and smile gone as he lazily dodged them, not even caring in the slightest bit as the blows glanced by him.

"None of you are even worthy of my Kiku-ichimonji." Archer looked at them in contempt, it was an easy fight and wasn't scratching that itch he wanted. It took a single second for him to drop the blade, it was standing up right in its sheath.

His hands blurred, grabbing the bat pushing it into another's head, he grabbed the out stretched hand from the brass-knuckled man, twisting he pulled the man in and threw him over his shoulder. A quick light stomp to his head and he was out like a light, leaving only the bad man up.

Archer quickly settled into a stance, full of openings, the bat man rushed forth and tried to exploit one, only for his bad to be smashed into his head and him to be knocked out like a light. Leaving two, one with a cut and bleeding wrist.

Archer pulled the golden pistol he stole from his waist band, having stored it there during the confrontation. Then he leveled it at the head of the last man on the phone. "This has been fun but-" *Bang* "Calling for backup won't save you now." The flip phone fell to the ground, one number away from help.

Archer approached slowly as they both cowered back, he picked up the Kiku on his way, he stood in front of them as their back hit the wall. Hashimoto didn't even think to use his gun, he had just seen a man dismantle his entire little posse.

"You can tell Lung, Dragon of Kyushu, that Shirou Emiya, The Wrought Iron Magus, doesn't care for his stupid rule." A kick launched at the phone guy's head made it snap back and hit the brick wall with enough force to knock him out.

He crouched in front of Hashimoto, who pissed his pants in fear. Sword in sheath on his shoulder, "You just got hit by, an Archer… Boo!" All it took to scare the man unconscious, he rummaged through the unconscious men's pockets for their wallet and stole the cash out.

"Two-fity, huh?" He whistles as he left, the Oba-san and her Granddaughter having long since left. "Well, Brockton Bay, I hope you're ready for a guy who's an end bringer in his own right."

[AN: Chapter courtesy of GeokitFX]


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