Emiya
Magical energy. The source of power that allows a reenactment of possible phenomena, bypassing all the required means of the mundane world.
Well, that is, if you were talking about magecraft.
Traditionally divided into two categories of its raw state: mana — the external magical energy, the very breath of a living planet — and od — the magical energy of a magically capable individual, produced through the conversion of personal life force via Magic Circuits.
A fascinating, if thoroughly explored, academic topic for many. For Emiya, it only mattered in the sense that it allowed him to actualize his mysteries.
As he went to the market to restock on ingredients, he activated his Magic Circuits, drawing from the Greater Source.
The mana was there. The planet was alive, and magic was possible.
Yet in all his thirteen years in this timeline, Emiya hadn't met a single practitioner. Not a single magus, spellcaster, Dead Apostle, or bloody wizard. No phantasmal beasts either. Not even a wraith.
Not to mention that London was trashed by the Simurgh. He remembered putting Tanya to sleep once by reading her an article about the attack.
Someone should have intervened. Zelretch, Barthomeloi, Van-Fem, the Holy Church.
Anyone.
Emiya struggled to imagine a scenario where the Moonlit World would collectively sit on its hands while some entity was trying a minor production reenactment of the White Titan Incident in London. Doubly so, when any magecraft was easily masked as parahuman power.
There were simply too many interests tied to London, both magical and financial. Even if the Clock Tower could withstand the attack unscathed, the Lords had a tremendous amount of assets within the city itself. Not to mention the potential risk of London being quarantined.
And yet — nothing.
Which led him to a single, disconcerting conclusion: Emiya might be the only magical entity in this timeline.
What could have happened? Did Solomon die before he could establish his Foundation? Had the Age of Gods ended so completely that absolutely everything had been relegated to the Reverse Side? Did this world's Texture reject mystery?
Probably not the last one, considering.
Parahumans weren't magical in nature either. He would have noticed by now.
But then why, when Tanya had been healing him, did Emiya feel the invasion of foreign magical energy into his body?
"I don't know. Maybe?" Dean shrugged. "No one knows how powers work, so it could be that her power somehow pinged off of mine. I mean, for example, it's widely known that Trump powers happen when other capes are involved in a trigger event."
Apparently, parahuman powers were malleable. Influenced by other parahumans.
Could something like that have happened with Tanya? She activated her nascent abilities, and they somehow molded themselves after Emiya's own magecraft?
He couldn't find a similar precedent in his own memory. His own knowledge of magecraft was by no means deep or comprehensive, and he knew even less about parahumans, but on the surface, someone gaining the ability to make use of mana wasn't outside the realm of possibility.
What made the issue even less clear was the fact that Tanya evidently didn't make use of Magic Circuits. She never showed the usual symptoms—no complaints of pain, no rising body temperature.
The need for calculators was also puzzling. They could be acting as foci, but considering the feats she could do with them, why would she be limited only to partial reinforcement without?
They could be acting as artificial Magic Circuits, but Emiya couldn't even imagine how that was supposed to work. It sounded like something straight out of the Atlas Institute, and he had never been allowed access, so he couldn't say for sure.
And that wasn't all.
"It's like I've done this before. Countless times."
At face value, Tanya's Thinker power gave her adequate combat skills. Not an uncommon thing, apparently. There was a criminal in this city who could become a master of any skill he wanted, and Emiya was warned about another who could steal skills — with prolonged exposure, permanently at that. Supposedly, it didn't work if the skills in question were granted by powers — a documented issue considering the first guy. Emiya made a note, since he would be vulnerable.
But combat skills alone wouldn't explain the poise and familiarity Tanya exuded during the ambush.
Shooting Alabaster in the head to keep him quiet wasn't just a skill. It was habit.
Sure, the man was apparently a bargain-bin Dead Apostle with how he kept rewinding himself. But even so, repeatedly shooting someone in the head at point-blank range should provoke more than just mild irritation.
Admittedly, Emiya wasn't a stranger to young girls of the bloodthirsty persuasion.
To be a magus was to walk with death — and that didn't just mean being ready to die for your craft.
Illya was by no means an exception. She merely differed in her steadfast determination to murder him specifically.
Rin was also pretty determined to kill him at some point, hesitating only because they were schoolmates, as well as a hefty investment into his heart.
A pity Emiya didn't have her pendant with him. Despite everything, he deeply appreciated its significance.
Still, you had to be raised like that. And whatever else, Emiya certainly did not raise her like that. So unless Alicia took her aside one day and explained that killing is okay, something just didn't add up.
There was a seed of doubt, however. Emiya had long worried what Tanya might have picked up from him.
He had long since realized that the act of killing didn't bother him — or rather, when it did bother him at all, it was for completely different reasons than it might bother other people.
It was never about taking a life.
It was...
It was the fact that there was another person he didn't get to save.
And even though Emiya had long since divested himself of foolish dreams, the number of people that died to him made him a habitual killer all the same.
Could he have failed to instill the notion of sanctity of human life in Tanya because of what he is? It was things like that which made him unsuited to raise little girls.
But it did not explain everything else.
If Tanya's every ability was powered by magical energy — and in hindsight Kanshou and Bakuya resisting her Mage Blade got another explanation — then it stands to reason that her Thinker power was connected to the same sole source of magical ability: Emiya himself.
"Well, all known instances of cluster capes show weird emotional dynamics. Obsession, fixation, hatred, personality bleed, you name it. It never ends up well."
Parahuman powers apparently can establish mental connections with others. Could something like that have happened here?
Tanya 'triggered,' her power established a connection to her only family member, and somehow something of Emiya himself bled through?
His Magic Circuits alone, or even his Reality Marble, wouldn't explain everything.
But Emiya's Saint Graph?
It was still there. Incarnation or not, however much reduced — he was still EMIYA. The foundation of his Spirit was still in its place.
His magecraft, his combat skills, his very ability to generate and make use of mana. Looking at it from this lens, a lot of it could be seen reflected in his sister.
Who's to say his memories and his very personality hadn't bled through?
Emiya dearly wished he was mistaken.
"Would it really be so bad to be a hero?"
He gritted his teeth and shook his head.
There was nothing he could do about it right now. He needed to get more information. Think this through.
More than anything, he needed to clear his head.
Which is why he was approaching a little ramen shop in the Asian market at the Docks, with the owner already waving at him.
"Danvers-kun!" he greeted Emiya cheerfully. "I've been waiting for you."
"Ichirou-san. I believe my payment is ready?"
"Of course, of course!" Ichirou waved him off gregariously. "Daikon and soba, as promised."
A bag of radishes and noodles hit the counter.
Ichirou scratched his head, sheepishly. "Ah, but if you could take a look at my heater? March is a chilly month in New Hampshire."
"Otou-san! Take the bags off the counter! We have a customer!"
Ayame, Ichirou's daughter, shouted from the back.
"Oh, don't worry about me, boss," the only customer said from her place at the counter.
It was a young girl in a red coat, with green eyes and long blonde hair tied in twin tails.
"Oh? Didn't take you for someone who speaks Japanese, dear customer," Ichirou looked pleasantly surprised. "You look like you could walk through the southern part of the city unscathed!"
"Otou-san!" Ayame was scandalized.
"What? It's true!"
"Pfft, right. As if the Empire goons wouldn't take a chance with a pretty girl in the wrong place," the girl slurped her noodles. "Nah, I know enough to understand what you're talking about, but can't really speak the language myself."
Emiya cleared his throat. "I can do this, but I want kombu and anything resembling rice vinegar on the next pick-up."
"You are saving my life here, Danvers-kun!" Ichirou gave him a thumbs up.
"Seriously, Danvers-kun, thank you, really," Ayame came from the back of the stall to give him a heartfelt hug. "Half the market owes you for your help."
"You're paying me," Emiya shrugged, putting his bag with projected tools on the ground, while Ichirou brought up their heater.
This market in the northern Docks was almost fully comprised of immigrants from various parts around the East China Sea. That part of the world was heavily disrupted by Endbringer attacks, parahuman warlords, and brutal totalitarian regimes.
People came to the USA in search of a better life, and from what he heard around here, for many it was genuinely better. Compared to the horror stories about the CUI and devastated Japan, at least.
The problem was that this city in particular was suffering from the unholy trifecta of a long-decaying economy, a white supremacist gang large enough to qualify as a domestic insurgency, and a Pan-Asian gang that didn't even bother pretending to protect its own—just another predator bleeding the immigrant community through protection rackets.
In such an economic environment, someone of his skillset willing to do repairs on essential business assets was indeed a hot commodity. Work never got dry.
"Opportunity cost is a central concept in modern trade models," Emiya silently reminded himself, turning the screws. "Maximize utility by aligning surplus skill output with high-need local resources."
And sure, Emiya could do work for cash, but he would be spending that same cash right here on ingredients that were otherwise difficult or impossible to obtain in supermarkets due to disrupted shipping lanes.
"Essential imports with limited domestic availability," he thought with satisfaction. "In a disrupted supply chain environment, this is practically vertical integration."
Tanya had made him read Lean Operations in Post-Crisis Markets. While neither a riveting book nor his preferred choice of literature, it offered some insights into the world of economics—as well as some insight into Tanya's occasional rants.
It was somewhat embarrassing for Emiya to admit that he rarely understood what she was talking about when she decided to share her thoughts. The fact his foolish aspirations never really required him to study economics past what was needed to plan his budget didn't really feel like an excuse when being shown up by a prepubescent child who read a few books on the subject.
Emiya liked to think that it was another thing separating him from Emiya Shirou, who would have never picked up a book about business and markets, much less understood it.
And he had to admit—it was nice to genuinely study something new. It was the first time he had done so since his death.
"So I take it Danvers-kun is everyone's favorite person here?" asked the blonde girl.
"You have no idea," Ayame sighed. "Money is tight as it is, and many can't really afford new equipment. Banks are also not keen on giving out loans if you live in these parts of town. The ABB is the only other option, but…"
Ayame was a pretty young woman. From what Emiya had heard, the ABB's major source of income was brothels and human trafficking. Being indebted to such a gang was a dangerous prospect to say the least.
Judging by how Ichirou clenched his fists while stirring the noodles, the man understood it well. It would be surprising if he didn't. Luckily for him, Emiya's newfound entrepreneurial spirit and need for soba saved him and several other families from very difficult decisions.
"I get it," the blonde said, sending Ayame a commiserating look. "Guess you're lucky that Danvers-kun was here to save you."
Emiya nearly misfired the Alteration he was using discreetly to fix the heater while pretending to fiddle inside with his tools.
"I am merely doing my job for appropriate compensation," he commented, his voice even. "No need to read into it."
The girl sent him a weird look. "Right. I'm Lisa, by the way," she said, flicking one of her twin tails.
"Danvers."
"My name is Ayame, and that is my father, Ichirou," Ayame said with a polite bow, which the girl returned somewhat awkwardly.
"By the way, shouldn't you be at school at this hour, Lisa-san?" Ichirou inquired with a frown. "Education is important."
"Don't worry, Ichirou-san. I've got my full GED," Lisa preened in a... surprisingly familiar manner. "Currently I'm working... while majoring in parahuman studies at Brockton U," she added.
"Well, good for you, young lady," Ichirou nodded in approval. "Take your studies seriously, you've got a bright future ahead of you."
"I am," Lisa smiled, smoothing her red coat. "I've just submitted a major project on cluster dynamics for extra credit."
"Oh? Sounds complicated," Ichirou said warmly, almost like a father not particularly interested in the subject but proud all the same. Ayame listened with interest, though there was sadness in her eyes.
"Ah, it's about weird, unusual emotional responses between parahumans with shared powers," Lisa explained enthusiastically. "Grab-bag capes," she clarified. "Fascinating stuff. Kiss-kill dynamics, switches in power expression, empowerments, personality bleeds."
Emiya stilled his work for a moment.
"It's pretty obscure, so I had to dig pretty deep, but it was worth it. Scored full marks, and I'm pretty sure I'm the foremost expert on the subject in the city by now," Lisa flicked her hair, visibly proud.
"Hahaha, is that so? It's good that you're so passionate about it," Ichirou said warmly.
"Of course it is. What else would you expect from the top student?" she said, striking a confident pose with one hand on her hip and a glint in her eye. "Honestly, if I don't do it, who will?"
Ichirou wiped his eye and looked reminiscent for a moment. Then he sighed and gave Lisa a serious look.
"Lisa-san, please don't take this the wrong way, but you shouldn't come back."
"Huh?" Lisa looked surprised.
Weirdly, Emiya got the impression that she wasn't actually surprised.
"Father is right, Lisa-san," Ayame said softly. "The ABB usually conduct their sick business in other parts of the city, but they wouldn't hesitate to grab a pretty white girl wandering alone in Lung's territory. What are you even doing here?"
"Ah, I was here for a job. The boss wanted me to scout some... business opportunities."
"It was very irresponsible for him to send you here alone," Ayame said disapprovingly.
"I guess," Lisa winced. "It's just no one really tells the boss 'No.' I thought I could take care of myself for one trip, but I suppose you're right."
"She is. And your boss doesn't sound like a man you should keep working for," Ichirou said firmly.
"Tell me about it," Lisa hung her head. "It's just that I live alone and have bills to pay... Ahhh, and here I hoped to come back later to convince Danvers-kun to do some repair work for me on the cheap."
"No need," Emiya said, finishing his work. "You can take my number, and just call me."
The ABB really were a vile gang, and Lisa was too confident for her own good. Emiya doubted she could handle the ABB as well as Sophia.
After showing Ichirou that the heater was working and grabbing his bags, Emiya gave Lisa his phone number.
"See you later, Dan-vers-kun~," the girl gave him a smile and went on her way.
Emiya shook his head, with a soft smile of his own.
His hand left his pocket, failing to find the familiar pendant.
Emiya hadn't needed it in years. But he missed it all the same.
A/N
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