Brotherhood is one thing.
But when it came to his daughter Illyasviel, there could be no compromise.
For his daughter's sake, Heracles would probably even take down the Demon King Goetia himself!
Illya was the one Heracles cherished the most, someone he had already come to regard as his own flesh and blood.
Back then, under Hera's curse, he had lost control and accidentally slaughtered his own children. That trauma had long since become his greatest and most unbearable inner demon.
In order to atone, Heracles endured the impossibly harsh Twelve Labors.
Later, after assisting Nameless in defeating the terrifying foe Cronus, he even obtained the right to ascend as a god.
But he gave it up.
Instead, he descended into the world in the form of the ultimate, strongest Heroic Spirit.
Now was the age of mankind.
The era of gods had ended; the world itself rejected them from freely walking among mortals.
"My dear brother, Nameless. No matter how great your deeds may be, if you dare make Illya cry—don't blame me if I use up all twelve of my lives to make you pay!"
Heracles' massive, burly frame radiated a killing aura.
"Don't worry, he'd never make me cry!"
Illya's little face flushed red at her guardian's words.
Honestly, this Berserker was far too overprotective, treating her as though she were his own daughter.
Besides, that gentle, considerate Sanjiro—always fussing over her, preparing all kinds of food she liked whenever she came by—how could he possibly make her cry?
[Or perhaps… you'll end up crying in bed instead~]
???
Illya froze, her head full of question marks.
Because suddenly, another voice echoed inside her mind—
A voice identical to her own, but with a completely different tone!
What the—did she just develop split personalities?!
Was she about to divide into two people?
Heracles immediately noticed her strange reaction. His bloodthirsty aura evaporated in an instant, replaced by the concern of an old father.
"Hm? What's wrong with you?"
"N-nothing at all," Illya shook her head quickly.
How was she supposed to explain this?
She couldn't exactly say she was turning into some kind of mental patient, right?
It had to be a hallucination!
Yes, absolutely just an illusion!
Better to think about something else—like what clothes she should wear later when she went to Sanjiro's house.
Maybe she should even stay the night there…
Ding-dong~
Illya pressed the doorbell.
Moments later, hurried footsteps sounded from inside.
Sanjiro, who had been lazing on the sofa in the living room, got up and opened the door.
Standing outside was Illya, here to visit.
The little girl was bundled up completely in a silver-white down jacket, making her look clumsy yet adorably cute.
Sanjiro smiled.
"Come on in. It's cold out—let me pour you a cup of hot black tea to warm you up."
"Mm, thank you."
Illya gave him a sweet smile.
"Kirina isn't at home?"
"That brat went out again to line up for figures." Sanjiro's mouth twitched.
Her grades were excellent, sure.
The problem was her obsessive love for Heroic Spirits—buying ridiculous amounts of figures, posters, and other merchandise.
In that sense, she really was just like Dr. Roman!
It might be amusing to have them meet someday.
Wouldn't Roman instantly start recommending Magical☆Merry to her?
Come to think of it, that damn Merry had been unusually quiet lately.
Normally, that guy was always stirring up trouble. Her silence now was unsettling.
Was she… locked up in some underground cellar, being tortured with ball-kicking lessons?
Sanjiro shook off the absurd thought—only to realize there was suddenly a towering wall in front of him.
"Holy crap, how much food does this giant eat?!"
The thought instantly flashed across his mind.
Then.
He quickly reacted, raising his head to look at the man:
"So, Illya… this is the one you brought with you?"
The figure before him was ridiculously tall and broad, muscles packed onto his frame like living armor, radiating an unimaginable, crushing sense of pressure.
His black suit was stretched to the very limit, on the verge of bursting apart.
A textbook image of a "suit-clad thug."
To be able to stay by Illya's side, and to radiate such overwhelming force—
Holy crap. Uncle B showed up for a home visit?!
Sanjiro was stunned.
He had just finished watching the latest video barely two days ago, and yet here the man was, descended into the world!
The only thing he could take comfort in was the fact that, at least, the two of them were comrades-in-arms.
Back in that final battle against Cronus, this man had thrown everything aside to transform into a raging giant, blocking that monstrous terror head-on.
Together with Mash and the three Gorgon sisters, he had bought him the precious time needed to forge the God-Slaying Sword.
The man lowered his head slightly to look down at him.
"Hello. I am Illya's elder. My name is Basaka."
"…Hello."
Sanjiro unconsciously stepped half a pace back.
Uncle B, you're not even trying to hide it, are you?
Because Berserker, transliterated straight, was just "Basaka"!
He forced a polite yet awkward smile.
"It's my first time meeting someone this… strong. How do you even train to reach that?"
"Natural talent, I suppose."
Heracles answered simply, his massive frame nearly squeezing his way into the house.
The boy before him was far too raw, too ordinary.
When he had first looked upon him, the boy's reaction had been nothing but simple surprise and the faintest trace of fear.
That was normal.
Most people, when faced with this body of overwhelming power, reacted the same way.
Heracles couldn't help but doubt.
Could it be that Illya was mistaken? That this was just some ordinary boy?
"Well then, please sit for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon," Sanjiro said, trying to maintain composure.
Then—
He tied on his apron and marched into what, for him, was now the most important battlefield of all—
The kitchen.
Compared to that troublesome title of "Grand Beauty," what he really wished people would call him was—
"Grand Chef."
In the living room.
Illya mouthed silently with her lips:
"Well?"
Bringing him along had only one purpose—to confirm once and for all Sanjiro's true identity.
Twice now, she had almost been taken away by the Council of Gods. Once by that terrifying Assassin, and another time when the "War God" himself had come in person.
But both times, she had been rescued by "Nameless."
And so, she could not tell—was he someone who had descended from the future to protect her… or was he protecting her now, here, as just this boy?
"Can't tell."
Heracles shook his head slightly.
The boy before him was far too normal. Truly, nothing stood out.
Illya looked at his back as he busied himself in the kitchen, her small face full of doubt.
Even Berserker couldn't confirm it?
Could it be…
That Nameless, after fighting countless times, restarting the world over and over for its sake, had finally wished to simply become an ordinary boy?
She remembered—in The Oath Beneath Snow, hadn't he once saved a collapsing world in one night, and then wished for Miyu to have a peaceful, ordinary daily life?
Just then, the door opened again. Kirina returned home, triumphantly carrying her spoils.
Spotting the giant in the living room, she blinked.
"Oh! Illya's here. And this is…?"
"Basaka. He's a relative of mine." Illya smiled sweetly.
"Wow, you look just like Heracles!"
Kirina stared in wide-eyed amazement. The longer she looked, the more uncanny the resemblance seemed.
"Do I?" Heracles muttered, slightly puzzled.
He had gone out of his way to layer on disguises, and yet this little blonde girl could still see through him?
"You do! Totally! At the next convention, you could cosplay Heracles and nobody would doubt it!" Kirina said, brimming with excitement.
"Cosplay… Hercules?"
Heracles' expression turned strange. He truly didn't know how to respond.
Cosplay… myself?
Thankfully, the girl was just speaking casually, without actually piercing his identity.
At that moment, a little white cat padded across the room, glanced at him—
"Fou… fou. (Another one, huh?)"
Heracles frowned slightly.
This little white cat looked so ordinary, and yet… why did it give off such an odd impression?
He scanned the room carefully.
On a distant shelf sat what looked like a simple fox scarf.
No—
Not simple at all!
That scarf radiated an immense, barely-hidden magical energy!
And when he looked closer at the little white cat, he could feel the same: a terrifying magic power, subtle to the extreme yet capable of destroying worlds.
Even the blonde twin-tailed girl, faintly, leaked a peculiar aura.
This was getting interesting.
So in this "ordinary" household… just how many extraordinary beings were hiding here?
Heracles' grin widened.
How amusing. Just as Illya thought.
That man—who conquered gods, basked in their blessings, and struck down the most terrifying of foes, "Nameless."
Even if he became a mere boy, he would still naturally gather powerful existences around him.
After dinner.
Illya chose to stay the night.
She and Kirina were best friends; staying over was perfectly natural.
Heracles, however, prepared to leave.
As an "unrelated guest," it would hardly do to impose.
Once the two girls had gone upstairs, Sanjiro walked him to the door.
Standing beside that towering, hulking frame, he felt a bit like an ant under a mountain.
So… Uncle B suspects me too?
Sanjiro sighed inwardly.
He just wanted a quiet, ordinary life. Why did one trouble after another keep showing up at his door?!
And then—
The giant gave a faint smile.
"I have a friend… who loves to borrow my name to do all sorts of things, leaving everyone thinking it was me."
"Uh… that's really not very decent of your friend," Sanjiro said awkwardly.
After all, back in the previous Singularity, he had indeed borrowed "Heracles'" name to pull off a whole bunch of stuff.
Like when he posed as a bandit at the start, or when he hunted the great boar with Catalanta, and even when he killed that hero who tried to steal their spoils—all under the name of Heracles.
Was this payback time?
"Indeed. So tell me… how do you think I should thank such a friend?"
Hercules leaned down to look at him.
Truth be told, his own fame as a legendary hero was thanks in no small part to Nameless.
Had it not been for Alaya's leaked footage, even he would never have known how much "he" had supposedly done.
"Ahem… well, I think between friends, it's all about mutual understanding, right?"
Heracles coughed, trying to play it off.
But facing the actual man, he couldn't deny he felt more than a little guilty.
In his mind, a big glowing word flashed again—
[DANGER!]
Heracles smirked faintly.
"You're right. Friends ought to understand one another. Then why didn't you just tell me?"
His aura suddenly surged, crashing down like a mountain, overwhelming and suffocating.
"…"
Sanjiro was left speechless.
Seriously? You're a godlike hero, and here you are cornering and intimidating a seventeen-year-old boy?!
How is that fair?!
This is no good at all!
No honor!
Sanjiro blurted out the classic triple denial:
"Don't say nonsense! I'm not, I never, I didn't!"
Even with the man confronting him directly, he had to deny it to the bitter end—otherwise, how could he ever explain letting Heracles take the blame for so much?
"Hmph. Just as I thought—you are Nameless!"
Heracles sneered.
???
Sanjiro froze for a moment—how the hell did he notice that?
Kid, are you just a walking question mark?
"You really think an ordinary person could stay calm under my killing intent?" Heracles cracked his knuckles, grinning happily.
"Fuck!"
Sanjiro almost spat blood.
Good god, you thick-browed, muscle-for-brains berserker—why are you so sharp about this kind of detail?!
Aren't you supposed to have nothing but muscles in that head of yours?
Heracles slung his massive arm around Sanjiro's shoulders:
"Since you already have those memories, that makes things easier. Don't you think it's time we had a little talk?"
"Not so close, man! People are gonna get the wrong idea!"
Sanjiro felt his frail body nearly collapse under the crushing weight of that strength.
This wasn't the mindless Berserker—this was Heracles in his ultimate form.
He had all twelve labors, twelve glories, countless divine gifts, and perfect rationality intact.
The sword of Hermes. The bow of Apollo. The robe and golden cuirass of Athena.
Arrows steeped in Hydra venom. The girdle of the Amazon queen…
He was armed to the teeth.
His strength now was so outrageous it bordered on absurd.
This was no longer the same Berserker who had once been toyed with by Gilgamesh. This Hercules could stand against the King of Heroes as an equal.
Meanwhile Sanjiro himself, with his Saint Graph still healing from exposure in those videos, was nowhere near that level.
This wasn't a fight—it was bullying!
Heracles smiled more warmly.
"About all that blame I had to take for your sake earlier, I won't bring it up again."
"You really are a true friend!" Sanjiro let out a relieved sigh.
That was what real brotherhood was—shouldering the blame without a complaint, even knowing the truth.
"But!"
Heracles suddenly squeezed down on his shoulder with brute force.
"When it comes to Illya—we need to have a serious talk!"
"…Talk about what?"
Sanjiro blinked in confusion.
What did the little loli have to do with this?
"You know my past. Illya is my angel of atonement—my daughter. I won't allow anyone to hurt her. Not even you."
Heracles' aura flared with killing intent.
"Against the Council of False Gods, I'll stand with you. But the moment they threatened Illya, I couldn't forgive it."
"Er, relax. I'd never hurt her."
Sanjiro immediately promised.
After all, hadn't he risked his life again and again to protect her?
"Hmph. Even if Illya likes you, I still haven't acknowledged you, you womanizing bastard." Heracles snorted coldly.
"…Uh."
Sanjiro felt a headache coming on.
He was just a wage slave for Alaya, fighting to protect human history.
Saving people, fighting battles—that was his daily grind.
And yet, after so many struggles, people—girls and guys alike—kept falling for him left and right.
Heracles clenched his massive fist.
"Until she's an adult, you're forbidden from doing anything indecent to her. Otherwise, I'll come for you."
"Uhh, deal. But you can't go around revealing my identity either!"
Sanjiro agreed without hesitation.
She was still just a grade-schooler.
If he laid a hand on her, it'd be the death penalty minimum!
Even if it were 'legal,' there was no way he could do that!
So Hercules really did see Illya as his daughter, huh?
In other words—
I see you as a friend and a brother, but you want to be my father-in-law?
How the hell are we supposed to work out the family tree then?
"Good. Deal."
Heracles nodded firmly.
He'd guard her until she grew up… and then she'd inevitably be snatched away by this pig.
"Well, I won't see you out. Show yourself."
Sanjiro waved him off.
Back home, he prepared hot water.
"Kirina, Illya—the bath's ready. Don't forget to wash up."
"I'm not bathing!" Kirina shouted back immediately.
In the dead of winter, who wanted to take a bath?
"You brat, if you don't wash every day, you'll stink!" Sanjiro scolded.
"Hmph! Cute girls always smell nice, so it's impossible for me to stink!" Flopped on the bed playing games, Kirina retorted self-righteously.
"Fine, but don't come near me then." Sanjiro rolled his eyes.
The kid was getting lazier by the day, practically ready to hibernate like a bear.
But maybe that was a good thing. Laziness meant less chance of awakening into a world-ending Demon King.
"…Then I'll go."
Illya stood up at once when she heard "don't come near me," and went into the bathroom.
If she stank, he'd definitely hate her.
Closing the lights, she soaked in the warm bath, staring at the starry sky outside, lost in thought.
Illya had already figured it out: Sanjiro was the powerless younger version of Shirou—the Nameless Heroic Spirit.
The entire world seemed to love him, and it left her feeling unbearably insecure.
She was just a powerless little girl, nowhere near the level of those mighty Heroic Spirits…
Or goddesses like Ereshkigal and Ishtar.
"…Huh? What's that?"
Suddenly she noticed a light flickering in the sky.
Wait—it was getting closer.
Closer and closer, until it was right in front of her.
She froze as the light turned into a strange magic staff, topped with a red jewel.
What was even weirder—
The staff bounced slightly, sounding soft and childish—
"Hi there! I'm the Magical Ruby Kyubey, the embodiment of love and hope! Would you like to make a contract with me and become a Magical Girl?"
???
Illya's eyes went wide with shock.
This thing could talk?!
And that name… wasn't it a little too malicious?
Still, at least it wasn't one of those creepy white creatures.
If it was just a staff, it shouldn't be too dangerous, right?
At that moment—
Sanjiro pushed open the door, flicking on the light. He froze at the sight. "Sorry. I saw the light was off and thought you weren't bathing yet."
"Ahhh!"
Illya's entire face turned crimson, steam practically shooting from her head.
So embarrassing—he saw everything!
Now she could never get married!
BOOM!
The Ruby staff shot up, eager to prove itself.
Sanjiro instinctively reached for it—then froze. Wait, right now he was just an ordinary boy.
Hold up—how did the Ruby from the Magical Girl Illya timeline end up here?!
And hadn't he just promised Heracles he'd never lay a hand on Illya?
Yet here he was, barging in while she was in the bath!
He was dead meat.
If Heracles found out, he'd definitely show up swinging his giant club.
Against his current ordinary strength, he'd get beaten down instantly.
…Which meant the best plan was to just collapse and play the weakling.
Thud!
Sanjiro toppled flat on his back, acting perfectly helpless.
"Eh?! Sanjiro!"
Illya yelped, leaping out of the tub. She didn't notice the bar of soap underfoot, stepped right on it—
Slip!
Her foot flew out from under her, sending her tumbling forward.
Smack!
She landed squarely on him.
"Ow… huh? Doesn't hurt?"
Illya opened her eyes in confusion.
Instead of pain, she felt something soft under her.
Then she realized—she was sitting on his chest, her thighs clamped around his face.
Exactly the same pose as Ishtar's infamous "skyfall landing" from Babylonia!
"..."
Illya's entire face flushed red like a boiling kettle. She thought she might actually faint from shame.
Why… why did it have to turn out like this?!
At the same time—
Sanjiro could smell the sweet fragrance coming from her, and couldn't help but feel utterly helpless.
No need to guess—if anyone else were to see this scene, he'd be gifted a pair of rose-gold handcuffs on the spot!
That daughter-obsessed Heracles would instantly lose all rationality, turning into the most berserk of Berserkers, and would gladly burn through all twelve of his lives just to kill him!
Looks like he had no choice but to continue pretending to be unconscious.
After he "fainted"—
Illya, her face bright red, hurriedly climbed off him. She bit her lip and glared furiously at the ruby magic wand.
"You damn thing! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have embarrassed myself like this!"
"I am the Ruby Kyubey who upholds love and justice! As long as you sign a contract with me to become a magical girl, you'll obtain tremendous power, you know~"
The staff continued speaking.
Buzz—
The ruby embedded on it lit up, shining with light, and condensed a blank card out of thin air.
Illya's eyes widened in amazement.
"This… this is a Heroic Spirit's Summon Card!?"
Indeed—it was exactly the same kind of card as the Summon Cards from Oath Beneath the Snow.
By using one, you could summon a powerful Heroic Spirit to possess you—transforming yourself into that Heroic Spirit's mighty form.
That Angelica had once summoned the King of Heroes, and turned into the infamous "genderbend Gilgamesh" that people still gossip about.
Back then, Nameless himself had relied on blank cards to summon countless versions of himself from different timelines, merging into the legendary Steel-Willed Savior.
"That's right," Ruby continued. "As long as you form a contract, you'll be able to wield the power of Heroic Spirits! You can even dissolve the contract anytime you wish—I hold no threat to you whatsoever!"
"Can it really be dissolved anytime?"
Illya's heart skipped a beat.
Right now, she was far too weak. But if she could wield the power of a Heroic Spirit, she'd be able to protect Sanjiro.
After all, he had shielded her again and again. Now, it was her turn to repay him.
Illya recalled when she had once seen that scene in Oath Beneath the Snow—where she only appeared for a mere five seconds!
If she became Magical Girl Illya, could she perhaps create a world where nobody ever had to suffer again?
Then—so be it.
This time, she would be the one to protect Sanjiro and everyone else.
Even if it meant ending up just like him—forgotten by the entire world—she would not hesitate.
Illya nodded firmly.
"Alright!"
Her small hand gripped the magic wand tightly, pouring her own mana into it and sealing the contract.
On the blank Summon Card before her, a familiar red-caped figure slowly emerged.
Ruby cheered, "Not bad! You can summon the power of Red A!"