Shirou looked over the remaining five cards, their pale glow softly illuminating the polished wood of the table.
He turned to Yan Qing, who had now taken to leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed and posture relaxed despite the precision in his every motion.
"I'm going to summon the rest," Shirou said. "All five classes. Better to explain things once than five different times. And I'd rather not leave anyone in limbo longer than necessary."
Yan Qing raised an eyebrow. "All at once?"
"Not simultaneously," Shirou said quickly. "But one after the other."
Yan Qing nodded. "Efficient."
Florence stepped forward again, already anticipating him. Without a word, she offered him the Caster card from the box.
He took it gently, turning it over in his fingers.
Caster.
He exhaled. "This one's going to be tricky."
"Why?" Yan Qing asked, curious.
"Most Casters are… difficult," Shirou admitted. "They tend to be researchers, scholars, obsessives. People with a thirst for knowledge and very little regard for human conversation." He glanced at Florence. "No offense."
"None taken," she replied smoothly.
Shirou looked down at the card again and closed his eyes. He let his breath even out and focused—not on a name, but on an idea. An intention.
"I want someone wise," he whispered. "Male and laid-back. Someone who understands that knowledge and power aren't the only things worth pursuing."
There was a pause.
Florence raised an eyebrow.
Yan Qing tilted his head, clearly amused. "That's a pretty idealistic filter."
"I've been called worse," Shirou muttered, gripping the card a little tighter.
The card pulsed once. Then twice. Then—
Flared.
The air thickened with heat and static as another summoning circle bloomed beneath Shirou's feet, this one glowing azure blue, with golden lines laced through its edges like circuitry and calligraphy woven together.
Florence took a step back, calm and analytical.
Yan Qing, however, gave a low whistle. "Well. Let's see if the universe is in a generous mood tonight."
The card shimmered—and then burst into light.
The magic circle blazed to life, flooding the kitchen with a brilliant blue-gold light, elegant and vast in feel—like a temple opening in slow motion.
The air grew lighter. Calmer. Warmer.
And then—just as quickly—the glow collapsed inward, concentrating into a single human form.
He appeared not with a dramatic flourish, but a soft thud of boots against tile. Standing straight, framed in soft blue light, was a young man in a long white coat trimmed with teal, loose orange hair falling over one side of his face, and warm green eyes wide with immediate alertness.
He blinked. Then looked around the kitchen.
"…Ah. Not Chaldea." A pause. "Not the Throne either. Huh."
Florence narrowed her eyes. Yan Qing tilted his head.
Shirou stared. "You're…?"
"Solomon." The man raised one hand sheepishly. "Technically. But please—Romani Archaman is fine. Solomon's a little too formal for dinner."
He smiled. It was warm, easy—and just tired enough to feel real.
Yan Qing stepped slightly forward, appraising. "You feel stronger than you look."
Romani chuckled. "People tend to say that right before I disappoint them."
Florence was still watching him, analytical as ever. "You're not entirely connected to the Throne."
The man nodded lightly, the motion casual but deliberate. "Correct. I… realized I was being pulled somewhere else—far from Gaia, far from Alaya. Not a summoning like I'm used to. So I made a choice."
His eyes flicked to Shirou with quiet interest. "I left most of my power behind. Let the connection thin. Slipped through as close to human as I could manage."
Yan Qing raised an eyebrow. "You chose to be weaker?"
Romani smiled gently. "I chose to be more free."
Florence gave a quiet, acknowledging nod. She understood that kind of decision.
Romani's gaze turned to her—curious now. Thoughtful. "But you… You're different. You feel alive. Not spiritual at all. And yet…" He tilted his head. "You're Florence Nightingale. That much is clear."
"I am," she replied simply.
"You're not supposed to be alive."
"I'm aware."
He studied her a moment longer—then turned to Shirou. "You did this?"
Shirou scratched his cheek, glancing between them. "Reincarnated her, yeah. Used one of the Evil Pieces. It worked better than I expected."
"I want to hear that story," Romani said, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "But—"
"I'll explain everything," Shirou said, lifting the wooden box again. "But first… I want to summon the rest."
Romani blinked. "Others?"
Florence gestured toward the box. "He has four more."
Romani's brows lifted, but he didn't interrupt further as Shirou's fingers brushed over the cards until they settled on the Rider card.
Florence watched, calm and observant. Yan Qing leaned slightly forward, curious. Romani simply folded his arms and stayed quiet, watching.
Shirou stared at the card.
"Someone fast," he said. "Male and strong, but not overwhelming. Someone brave. Someone who runs forward."
The Rider card pulsed with a vibrant green-gold glow, its light sharp and kinetic—like sunlight flashing off polished bronze.
The summoning circle below it crackled as it formed, brilliant emerald runes etching themselves across the wooden floor in streaks of light that resembled flowing wind and galloping hooves. The magic was wild, fast—full of motion and challenge.
Florence tensed slightly.
Yan Qing raised an eyebrow. "That's… not subtle."
Romani smiled faintly. "Definitely Rider-class."
And then—impact.
The light erupted upward as the figure manifested mid-air—twisting through the summoning light in a flip before landing hard on the floor, one knee down, hand to the ground. The summoning light clung to him for just a second longer before dissipating in a flash of green and gold.
"Yo!" the figure announced, voice ringing loud and bright.
He stood tall, confident and broad-shouldered, the sun-kissed skin of a warrior gleaming beneath armor both ancient and stylishly modern. His green hair spiked up in wild waves, and a vibrant orange scarf trailed behind him like a banner.
A huge grin lit his face. "Man, it's been a while since I've felt that good coming out of a circle!"
He looked around, cracking his neck, then turned his bright green eyes to Shirou.
"You're the one who called me?" he asked, jabbing a thumb toward himself. "Achilles. Rider-class. Fastest on two legs. And three, if you count the chariot."
Shirou blinked. "You're… very energetic."
"I've been dead for a long time," Achilles replied cheerfully. "I'll take what I can get."
Florence narrowed her eyes. "You're carrying your Noble Phantasm's aura with you. Rein it in before you punch a hole through the ceiling."
"Right, right," Achilles said, waving his hand. "Just residual pride, I swear."
Romani chuckled softly. "I think I like this one too."
Yan Qing shook his head. "If nothing else, he'll keep things interesting."
Achilles grinned wider, hands on hips. "I like this crowd already!"
Shirou just exhaled. He could already feel the kitchen growing more alive—not just with people, but with presence. The weight of heroes, legends, and human will made manifest. He turned to Achilles, who was now leaning over the pot on the stove with curiosity.
"I'll explain everything soon," he said, glancing between the three Servants already present. "But first, I need to summon the last three. I want you all to hear the same thing. No repeated conversations."
Achilles gave a thumbs-up. "Sure, sure. You're the boss, summoner-man."
Romani smiled as he leaned on the back of a chair. "Efficient. I approve."
Florence stepped forward again, already holding the next card. She handed it to Shirou with a calm, wordless look.
Archer.
The moment Shirou's fingers closed around the card, a strange sense of familiarity struck him. Unwelcome. Unsteady.
His grip tightened.
He didn't like this feeling.
"Someone male," he whispered under his breath. "And not a version of me. Or of Gilgamesh. Please."
Yan Qing blinked, glancing at Florence. "That's oddly specific."
"Very specific," Romani murmured.
Florence raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Shirou exhaled slowly. "Just someone polite. Intelligent. That's all I ask."
The Archer card began to shine.
Immediately, Shirou felt it—a sharp, pulling weight against his prana circuits. The summoning circle flared to life below his feet, but unlike the others, this one was intense—the lines burned brighter, etched deeper into the air itself.
His knees nearly buckled.
Florence was beside him in an instant, placing a hand on his back to steady him. "This one's draining more than the others."
"I noticed," Shirou muttered, sweat prickling at the back of his neck. "Why didn't Solomon do this?"
"Because I thinned my essence," Romani said from the side, eyes sharp now as he created bounded fields to suppress the power that the house must be exuding. "Whoever's coming now… didn't."
The summoning circle roared—a thunderous pulse of violet and gold light exploded outward, warping the shadows across the kitchen.
The room felt heavy, like something ancient was about to step through.
And then a figure descended. Poised. Still. His feet touched the floor without sound, but his presence commanded silence.
His skin was a smooth, dusky bronze, catching the light like satin. He wore a long, tailored white coat—ornate yet dignified, embroidered with subtle purple patterns that shimmered when he moved. His short, jet-black hair curled lightly at the edges, neat yet soft, framing a face calm as still water and sharp as flint.
His golden eyes opened slowly, gaze sweeping the room with quiet depth. He looked at Shirou, not with pride or dismissal—but with recognition.
He looked at Shirou first. And said, evenly, "…You called for an Archer."
Shirou swallowed. "…Yeah. I did."
The man nodded once, expression calm. "Then I will serve. I am Arjuna."
Romani straightened slightly, a flicker of recognition flashing through his eyes. "The hero of the Mahabharata. A demigod… and a man of impossible ideals."
Yan Qing grinned. "Polite and intelligent, huh? Seems like you got your wish."
Shirou exhaled, trying not to buckle from the magical drain. "Let's… hope it stays that way."
Arjuna inclined his head slightly. "I will not betray the one who gave me a path."
There was no arrogance in his voice. No coldness. Only certainty.
The summoning circle had only just faded, its violet glow leaving faint traces on the floor, when Shirou reached for the next card.
"Hold on," Florence said, stepping forward slightly. "You need to rest."
"Agreed," Romani added, concern flashing across his face. "You're pushing your circuits. You've already summoned four Heroic Spirits—any one of them could've drained a normal magus."
Even Arjuna spoke quietly. "Your body is trembling. You should give it a moment to adjust."
Shirou exhaled and straightened. His chest rose and fell quickly, and there was a dull ache running beneath his skin. His head felt a little light, but—
He placed a hand over his chest. His heartbeat was already steadying. The warmth that pooled gently through him, golden and calm, soothed the exhaustion that threatened to weigh down his limbs.
Was it Avalon… or the Lesser Grail?
He didn't know. But he was still standing.
"I'm okay," Shirou said, voice even. "Really."
Yan Qing leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. "Stubborn."
Florence gave him a flat look. "Predictable."
Achilles grinned. "Classic protagonist move."
Romani sighed but didn't argue.
Shirou exhaled, brushing his damp bangs from his forehead, and reached into the box once more. His fingers found the Lancer card.
It was cool to the touch—soothing, almost. But as soon as he held it, it began to thrum, not with force or urgency, but with something deeper.
Shirou closed his eyes and let out a long, tired breath.
No flourishes. No lofty wish.
"Someone male," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "Someone composed… and loyal."
The card pulsed.
Florence stepped back. Romani straightened subtly. Achilles fell silent, his casual smirk fading.
Arjuna turned. His golden eyes locked on the card—and the forming circle.
He didn't move, but his voice was quiet. "I know who's coming."
.
.
I'm tired af
Work had been hard lately with not many of us workers and more clients coming. My sister, the one I live with, has gone on a month long trip to our home country and I have to take care of her cat (name: Snoopy), so yeah, this has not been my month, at all.
I tried to write when I could but... well, I've not been really succesful. Let's hope September is easier on me now that my sister returns in two days and I don't have to take care of everything.