[Outside Shirou's Apartment – Twilight]
[The door clicked softly behind him as Shirou stepped out into the cool early evening air. The buzz of conversation inside was instantly replaced by a stillness that made everything feel distant… muted.]
[He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The sky above was painted in fading hues of orange and purple, the first stars timidly peeking through. A soft breeze stirred his hair.]
[Hands stuffed in his pockets, Shirou leaned against the railing of the apartment walkway, overlooking the narrow street below.]
Shirou: thoughts …So much has changed.
[He gazed up at the sky—half expecting something to come falling from it again.]
Shirou: thoughts It's been weeks since that night. Since I found her. And yet, I still can't shake this feeling…
[He closed his eyes, and for a moment, the world stilled.]
[There was a strange tension in his chest—not dread, not fear—just… anticipation. Like something was about to happen. Something that would turn their peaceful days upside down.]
[A sudden breeze picked up. Leaves danced across the sidewalk, rustling faintly.]
Shirou: …I wonder…
[A quiet rustle from behind. He didn't turn around.]
???: softly You're out here again.
[It was Shizuka.]
[He glanced over his shoulder. She stood in the doorway, barefoot, her expression unreadable in the dim light.]
Shirou: casual Couldn't breathe in there. Kei talks too much.
Shizuka: smiling faintly
He's loud… but comforting.
Shirou: Yeah. Still loud though.
[There was a pause. Shizuka stepped closer, standing beside him at the railing. For a while, neither of them spoke.]
Shizuka: gazing at the sky …Do you think they'll find me?
[The words were barely above a whisper, but they struck like thunder in the silence.]
Shirou: quietly …Who?
[Shizuka didn't answer right away. Her fingers gripped the railing tighter.]
Shizuka: The people I'm running from.
[Shirou turned to look at her, eyes narrowing slightly. She still hadn't told him everything. But tonight felt… different. Like cracks were forming in her carefully guarded shell.]
Shirou: I won't let them take you.
[She looked at him then—really looked. Her eyes, shimmering like frozen glass, searched his face for something. Fear. Doubt. Maybe even lies.]
[But she found none.]
Shizuka: softly …Thank you, for sticking in to your word for all these times.
Shirou: You know I can't lose you... all of you. You're all too important for me, it's been a long time... since I've had this kind of joy. Instead I would like to thank you, for bringing me into this kind of happiness.
Shizuka: Shirou...
[The quiet breeze settled again as the two stood side by side. After a moment, Shirou pushed himself off the railing, brushing dust from his pants.]
Shirou: stretching I'm heading to the convenience store. Kinda craving some chips and drinks.
[He turned to her, tilting his head slightly.]
Shirou: You want anything?
Shizuka: thinking …Maybe… strawberry pocky? And a melon pan.
[Shirou smirked.]
Shirou: teasing
You and your sweets, huh?
Shizuka: blinking …They're comforting.
Shirou: smile softening Yeah. I get that.
[He gave a small wave as he walked toward the stairs.]
Shirou: I'll be back in ten.
Shizuka: …Be safe.
[The words came out almost instinctively, but Shirou glanced back with a small chuckle.]
Shirou: What, think I'll get into trouble on the way to buy pocky?
Shizuka: quietly …You never know.
[There was something serious in her tone, but Shirou didn't press it. He just gave her a thumbs-up before jogging down the steps, the sound of his sneakers echoing softly.]
[Convenience Store – A Few Blocks Away]
[The doors chimed open as Shirou stepped inside. Fluorescent lights bathed the shelves in an artificial glow. The smell of warm oden and instant noodles lingered in the air.]
[He grabbed a basket and casually began tossing in snacks—milk tea, spicy chips, a cold sandwich, a can of coffee for tomorrow morning…]
[He stopped in front of the sweets aisle, reaching for the strawberry pocky and then a soft melon pan.]
[Outside the Convenience Store – Night]
[The glass door slid shut behind Shirou with a chime. He tucked the convenience store bag into his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder.]
[But then—]
[His gaze locked onto the street.
Three black vans rolled by slowly. The way they moved, how they tinted the already-dim street darker—it sent a chill crawling up his spine.]
Shirou: muttering …No way.
[They looked too similar. Matte black. No plates. Thickly tinted windows. Like the ones from before—like the ones from that night Shizuka was kidnapped.]
[His expression darkened. Without hesitation, he darted over to the side of the store, where his motorcycle was parked behind a fence.]
[Abandoned Harbor Warehouse – Hidden Viewpoint]
[From the shadows behind a stack of rusting barrels, Shirou kept watch, crouched low as the salty wind blew faintly through the broken windows above.]
[The black vans had parked in a wide circle. Several mafia thugs stood outside—six or seven of them, burly and dressed in black suits, exchanging brief words. One of them lit a cigarette. Another leaned against the van with a clipboard.]
[Shirou's eyes narrowed, observing every movement.]
[Then a different kind of vehicle pulled in—sleek, dark silver, bearing an unfamiliar emblem on the side. Out stepped two individuals dressed sharper than the rest. They weren't part of the same group.]
Shirou: thinking A trade deal…?
[Indeed, what followed wasn't a violent exchange—but a subtle and quiet transaction. A suitcase was brought out by the mafia men, opened just enough to reveal neatly stacked materials—papers, possibly money, but maybe something else.]
[The suited partners opened their own case—something glinted under the moonlight. Small, metallic containers sealed with caution tape and biohazard warnings.]
Shirou: under his breath …What the hell are they trading?
[No names were exchanged. The two sides simply nodded at each other. A deal done in silence, hidden by shadows.]
[Moments Later]
[Once the brief exchange was done, the partners returned to their car and drove off without a word. The mafia thugs loaded the traded goods back into their vans, business-like, cold. No signs of aggression. No signs of Shizuka being involved—at least not here, not tonight.]
[Still, Shirou's heart didn't settle. He waited until the last van drove off before stepping out of his hiding spot, glancing once more at the now-empty lot.]
Shirou: clenching his fist If they're still moving this much in the city… it means something's coming.
[He hopped back onto his motorcycle and revved it lightly, mind racing faster than the engine.]
[Shirou's House – Late Evening]
[The motorcycle hummed low beneath him as Shirou made his way back through the dimly lit streets. His eyes flicked between the side mirrors and alley corners, scanning for anything out of place.]
Shirou: thinking No tails… but better to be sure.
[He made an extra loop around the block. Once. Twice.]
[Only when he was convinced that no headlights loomed behind and no shadow lingered at the corners did he finally pull up in front of the house. He parked a little further down the street, just in case, and approached on foot.]
[Click—clack.]
[His boots hit the pavement with a faint echo. One last look over his shoulder. Still nothing.]
Shirou: Tch, paranoid much.
[He muttered to himself, slipping the key quietly into the lock and stepping inside.]
[The soft hum of conversation met his ears. Laughter, light and familiar—Mio's, followed by Ryokou's muffled voice saying something about spicy noodles.]
[Shirou closed the door behind him gently. No one had noticed he was gone for long.]
[He walked in casually, the plastic bag of snacks still in hand.]
Shizuka: You took a while.
[She looked up from her seat on the couch, her expression unreadable—but her eyes lingered on his a little too long.]
Shirou: smirking slightly Had to dodge a few traffic monsters.
[He handed her the melon bread she'd requested and casually dropped onto the couch beside her, trying not to show how tense his shoulders still felt.]
[But inside… the gears in his head were already turning.]
[That trade wasn't normal.]
[And it wasn't over.]
[Vlad's Office – Top Floor Office]
[The room was dimly lit, with warm amber lights dancing on aged mahogany bookshelves and an antique desk carved with intricate patterns of roses and thorns. A classical vinyl played faintly in the background—a haunting waltz. The atmosphere was suffocatingly quiet.]
[Vlad sat with a wine glass in hand, swirling its contents gently. His crimson eyes gleamed behind thin-rimmed glasses, and a black ring shimmered on his left hand.]
[The door creaked open.]
[Leviathan and Ifrit entered with slow, heavy steps and stopped just a few meters from the desk. He removed his gloves, bowed slightly, and presented a silver USB drive.]
Leviathan: The trade is complete. Funds secured. Our partners delivered the alloy without defect. No surveillance. No tails. No police. Clean.
Vlad: setting the glass down
And the partner's loyalty?
Ifrit: Untouched. They know what failure means.
[Vlad leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.]
Vlad: Good. Then the arms shipment to Kisaragi City can proceed without interruptions.
[They gave a curt nod but paused.]
Vlad: Something else?
Leviathan: …There was a motorcycle parked not too far from the site. Mismatched behavior. But no attempt to interfere.
[Vlad's fingers tapped the desk slowly, as if measuring time with precision.]
Vlad: Hm. People watch many things. The stars, the clouds… even shadows. Let them. Shadows eventually disappear at dusk.
[He raised his glass again.]
Vlad: No need to chase ghosts—yet.
Ifrit: Understood.
[Vlad gave a faint smile.]
Vlad: Still… assign eyes to the city's outer sectors. I want to know if someone starts sniffing too close to our garden.
[They bowed, slipping the USB onto the desk.]
Leviathan: As you wish.
[The music swelled slightly as Ifrit exited. Vlad stood, turning to the window, gazing out toward the city's flickering lights.]
Vlad: to himself
They're starting to move again. I wonder… who dares to challenge the serpent's coil?
[The door hadn't even finished closing behind Ifrit when it slowly opened again—unannounced, yet clearly expected.]
[Irisyvell walked in with her usual graceful menace, wearing a pristine white coat over dark battle attire. Her long silver-blonde hair shimmered under the room's low light. She didn't bow. She never had to.]
Irisyvell: Did your lapdog retrieve it?
[Vlad didn't even turn away from the window.]
Vlad: Ifrit and Leviathan delivered. As promised, the alloy's integrity is intact.
[He turned slightly, giving her a sidelong glance over his shoulder.]
Vlad: You'll have your piece, Iris. But remind me—why the rush to resurrect that iron fossil?
[Irisyvell walked closer, her heels echoing softly across the polished wood floor.]
Irisyvell: Behemoth was more than a weapon. He was a deterrent. A godkiller, forged to make nations kneel. You want dominance in Kisaragi, don't you?]
Vlad: smiling faintly Of course. But dominance isn't always about brute force.
Irisyvell: Then let me handle the force. You handle the theater.
[She placed a tablet on his desk and tapped the screen. A 3D render of Project Behemoth rotated slowly—its design almost beast-like, with a fusion of ancient armor aesthetics and futuristic tech. Several red nodes blinked where the alloy would be integrated.]
Vlad: quite fretted Is this your plan of reanimating him? You're kind of intense yourself, I admit.
Irisyvell: If you say so. I'll need a week. No interruptions. Tell your little snakes to stay out of the lab.
[Vlad sipped his wine again, never breaking eye contact.]
Vlad: Fine. But know this, Iris… If Behemoth steps out of line, I will not hesitate to cut its strings—or yours.
Irisyvell: smirking
If it steps out of line… then it wasn't Behemoth. It was a cheap imitation.
[She turned on her heel, coat fluttering behind her like a phantom's trail, and walked out without another word.]