Shirou stirred.
The world returned to him slowly, like surfacing from a deep, dark ocean. Warmth registered first—soft fabric beneath him, a cushion against his back. Then scent: incense, faintly floral. Wood polish. Tea, maybe. The low hum of electricity from nearby lamps.
He opened his eyes and above him, Florence leaned down, her silver hair falling like a curtain around her face, eyes sharp and focused. She looked neither worried nor relieved—just attentive.
"Good," she said, straightening. "You're awake."
Shirou blinked at her. His limbs still felt heavy, but not in pain. Avalon, most likely, still at work within him. His shoulder no longer screamed, and his side was merely sore.
"Where…?" His voice came out rough, unused. He cleared his throat. "Where are we?"
Florence moved back slightly to give him space. "A building called the Occult Research Club. The red-haired woman—Rias Gremory—brought us here after you lost consciousness. She claimed it was safer."
Shirou pushed himself upright with some effort, wincing as stiff muscles protested. "She didn't try anything while I was out?"
"No," Florence replied. "Though she left quickly. She said she needed to make a call. She left another woman behind to watch us. A black-haired one."
Shirou narrowed his eyes. "Black-haired…?"
Before he could finish the question, a soft, teasing chuckle came from nearby.
"Well, I wouldn't say I was just left behind," a voice said, smooth and melodic. "I'm here to welcome our interesting guests properly."
Shirou turned his head toward the sound. A woman stood near the opposite couch, elegant and poised, long black hair cascading over her shoulders like silk. Her violet eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was a sharpness to them beneath the warmth—like she saw more than she let on. She wore the same Kuoh Academy uniform Shirou had seen on Rias.
Behind her, laid out on the couch, was the boy from earlier—Issei—still unconscious but now breathing steadily, his wounds gone.
The woman dipped her head slightly. "Akeno Himejima," she said with a smile. "Rias's vice president… and, I suppose, your current hostess." She tilted her head, expression playful. "Would you like some tea?"
Shirou hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Yeah… tea sounds good."
Akeno's smile deepened. "Wonderful. I'll bring something to help with the shock of your first devil encounter." She turned gracefully and walked toward a side table with a tray already set.
Shirou watched her go, then glanced at Florence, who remained beside him like a sentinel.
"…How long was I out?" he asked softly.
"Not long," she replied. "But long enough for the politics of this world to begin moving."
The soft clink of porcelain relaxed him as Akeno gracefully placed a steaming cup of tea on the low table beside him. Her every movement was fluid, practiced—almost ceremonial. She smiled gently before retreating a step to let him breathe.
Shirou nodded in quiet thanks but didn't reach for the tea immediately.
Instead, he stared at his hands. They were his—calloused, steady, slightly scarred—but they weren't. Or at least, they hadn't always been.
Shirou Emiya.
That was his name now. And it felt right when he said it. But he remembered… being someone else. A fan, maybe. A watcher from another world. Someone who had admired this character—a boy who walked through fire, who forged his ideals into steel.
And then he had died.
"Congratulations~ You get a second chance! But I'm going to have a little fun with you."
The goddess's words came back with perfect clarity. Her laughter still rang in his ears—mocking and amused. She had given him gifts, she'd said. "Some good, some… narratively spicy."
He could only assume this was her idea of spicy.
Shirou closed his eyes and drew in a breath, calling prana through his circuits. Not much—just enough to see if what he remembered was truly his now. The world shimmered faintly, and when he opened his eyes, text appeared in the air before him like a projected stat sheet:
Shirou Emiya
Class: Devil — King
Strength: D | Endurance: C | Agility: C
Mana: B | Luck: E
Personal Skills: Mind's Eye, Clairvoyance, Eroge Protagonist EX (Corrupted), Lesser Grail body
Sin Alignment: Lust
His eye twitched. "…What?"
The words glowed faintly, and as if responding to his confusion, the last skill expanded—lines of fine text scrolling beneath it.
Eroge Protagonist EX (Corrupted): Causes others to develop romantic or obsessive attraction unnaturally fast. However, the user is emotionally incapable of reciprocating those of his preferred gender due to mental blocks. Attempts to do so may destabilize the targets' sanity.
Effect: High Yandere Risk on his preferred gender. Charm Resistance is nullified.
Shirou stared. He closed the window with a snap of will, eyes narrowing in horror.
"...Troublesome," he muttered.
Florence glanced sideways at him but didn't comment. She had heard weirder things, probably.
He finally picked up the tea Akeno had served, sipping it slowly. Warm, floral, slightly sweet.
At least something in this world made sense, he thought as he leaned back into the plush couch, mind spinning as he tried to make sense of… everything.
The stat sheet still lingered faintly at the edges of his vision, the residual presence of his earlier prana scan. Curious, and more than a little concerned, he turned his head slightly toward Florence, who stood vigilantly near him with arms crossed and eyes alert.
He activated the same skill-viewing command—just a light trickle of prana directed outward.
To his relief, her stat display appeared cleanly and without corruption:
Florence Nightingale
Class: Berserker
Strength: B+ | Endurance: A+ | Agility: B+
Mana: D+ | Luck: A+ | NP: C
Personal Skills: Nurse of Steel A+, Human Anatomy Understanding A, Scream of the Angel EX
No weird cursed traits. No yandere triggers. Just terrifying stats and impeccable medical dominance.
He let out a slow sigh of relief. "At least one of us got out of this mess clean…"
Florence glanced at him with a raised brow but didn't comment. Her version of concern, he supposed, was quiet competence and a refusal to let him die.
He took another sip of tea. The warmth helped ground him, and with nothing else immediately threatening his life, Shirou let his thoughts drift inward.
Who am I now?
His memories—this body's memories—were there. This body's name was Shirou Emiya. He had lived in Kuoh Town for years now. Almost eighteen. A third-year at Kuoh Academy.
He had been adopted by Kiritsugu Emiya, a man with tired eyes and a worn soul who had found him after an accident—an accident that still flickered behind his closed eyelids when he let his guard down.
That part, at least, hadn't changed.
Kiritsugu had been many things, but kind in his own distant way. He'd died two years ago, leaving Shirou the Emiya residence, a modest but sturdy state on the outskirts of town. Shirou had been living alone since.
This world's Shirou hadn't been a magus. Not really. Just a boy who knew a little of the supernatural and enough magical knowledge to scrape together something like a Reinforcement spell on occasion—enough to not hurt himself trying.
He remembered all of that as clearly as if he'd lived it from the beginning.
And now… now he was something else. Someone more. Or less, depending on how you looked at it.
He glanced down at his cup, the faint reflection of his eyes shimmering on the surface of the tea.
Eroge Protagonist EX (Corrupted).
He grimaced. No use thinking too hard about that. Not right now. Luckily, a groan distracted him. Shirou turned toward the sound, immediately alert. Across from him, the boy he rescued stirred, brow furrowed, limbs twitching sluggishly against the cushions of the second couch. He didn't even have to say a word—Florence had already caught the motion in his peripheral gaze. She moved with calm precision, kneeling beside the boy and placing two fingers gently against his neck.
"Heart rate elevated. Breathing stabilizing," she murmured to herself. "He's conscious."
The young man blinked blearily, squinting at the ceiling before his eyes dropped to the face hovering just above him.
They widened. Then dropped slightly lower to her chest.
"...Huh?" he muttered groggily. "A… nurse? A very… hot…"
Florence tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing, and Shirou coughed, amused despite himself. He stood up slowly, cradling his sore side as he walked over.
"Hey," he said, voice calm but clear. "You're awake."
The young man's gaze snapped to him, startled—and then blinked again.
"Wait a minute…" he squinted. "You're that new pretty boy from school!"
Shirou raised a brow, lips twitching upward. "That's… a new title."
He leaned forward, a flash of realization crossing his features. "You're also the guy! From the park! You tackled me!"
"Yeah," Shirou nodded. "Took a spear to the side for it, too."
The young man grimaced, rubbing his stomach. "Ow… man, I thought that was a dream. A really weird dream with wings and glowing and…" He looked at Florence again and flinched slightly under her steady gaze. "Okay, yeah. Not a dream."
Shirou offered a faint smile. "Shirou Emiya," he said, extending a hand.
The other hesitated a moment, then took it with a small bow from where he sat. "Issei Hyoudou. Thanks… for, you know. The not dying."
Florence was already examining his abdomen again, lightly touching his side with practiced fingers. "You'll be sore. There was internal damage, but nothing that will kill you. You may experience fatigue, dizziness, and mild confusion. That's normal. You were impaled."
Issei paled. "Impaled?!"
Shirou winced sympathetically. "Yeah. She didn't hold back."
At that, Issei's face scrunched. "Yuuma… she had wings. Like an angel. But darker. She… asked me if I'd die for her and then—bam!" He winced again, grabbing his head. "What the hell even was that?!"
Shirou shook his head slowly. "I recognize what she was. A Fallen Angel. Beyond that? No idea why she was targeting you." His brows furrowed slightly. "Could be random. Could be something deeper. But it wasn't subtle."
Issei slumped against the cushions. "I finally go on a date and that happens. Figures."
Florence stood, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt. "You're alive. That should be enough for now."
Issei chuckled weakly. "Yeah. I guess so."
Before Issei could ask for more, the door to the room opened with a soft click.
Shirou turned, Florence already stepping protectively to his side. Issei tensed instinctively before slumping again, still sore.
Rias Gremory walked in with her usual composed grace, but her eyes immediately scanned the room—first landing on Issei, then Shirou. Behind her trailed three more figures: a tall blond boy with a serene expression, a small silver-haired girl with golden eyes, and—
Sona Shitori.
Shirou recognized her immediately—student council president of Kuoh Academy, always collected and sharp. Her glasses gleamed as she took in the scene. Beside her stood a quiet, elegant girl with long black hair and cool indigo eyes—Tsubaki Shinra, her vice president.
Rias exhaled softly and smiled. "Good. You're awake."
Issei blinked, sitting up a little straighter as his gaze darted to all the girls surrounding them. "R-Rias-senpai?"
Shirou folded his arms, giving the newcomers a polite, if wary, nod. Kiba met his gaze with a faint smile, but Koneko simply stared, expression unreadable.
"Are you alright?" Rias asked Issei gently.
"Uh. Kinda?" Issei rubbed the back of his neck. "Still not sure I didn't hallucinate the whole winged girlfriend murder thing."
"You didn't," Rias said calmly.
Issei blinked. "Wait—what?"
She looked at him fully now, her tone turning solemn. "There's a lot you don't know about the world, Issei. About Heaven, Hell, and everything in between."
Sona stepped forward next, her voice level and cool. "And since you both were present during a very public supernatural incident, I agreed to sit in. This concerns the school, after all."
Tsubaki gave a respectful bow toward Shirou and Florence, her expression neutral. "We came to observe and ensure no further… irregularities occurred."
Florence didn't move an inch.
Rias turned her gaze back to Shirou, her expression unreadable now. "And you, Shirou Emiya. I think it's time we talked about that King piece."