The Far North – Finis Chaldea.
After signing what felt like a hundred pages of jargon that read more like scripture than paperwork, Kagami was officially registered as Candidate Master No. 49 of Chaldea.
Romani personally walked him to the dorms, handed him the key, gave a few last words of advice, then left. The moment the door shut, Kagami flopped onto the bed, clutching his head like he'd just been shoved through a photocopier.
"Wait a sec… that doctor… and that loud little director girl…"
He frowned, rummaging through his memories like a fragmented hard drive. Then it hit him like a lightning bolt. He shot upright:
"Holy shit! Aren't those Romani Archaman and Olga Marie from F/GO?!"
Stunned, he smacked his forehead with a thunk. Memories from his past life resurfaced—college days as a broke student, with a roommate who was a diehard Fate fan. The guy's walls were plastered with Saber, Gilgamesh, and Jeanne posters, and every day he bragged: "Bro, I just rolled another SSR limited on my account!"
And Kagami?
Did he care?
Hell no.
He'd once been forced to watch Fate/Zero, but he'd passed out by episode two because… nothing made a damn bit of sense.
Yet here he was, by some cosmic joke, transmigrated straight into the Nasuverse—the most convoluted universe he'd ever encountered.
Kagami rolled around the bed, clutching his skull:
"Goddamn karma… And if that roommate finds out I ended up inside Fate, he'd probably rage himself to death."
The thought made him laugh. He stood, pulled on the standard-issue Chaldea uniform.
A white tunic strapped across the chest, belt fitted snug, black trousers tucked into high boots. Facing the mirror, Kagami adjusted the collar, fingers running through his pale blond hair with its streaks of sky-blue at the temples. Blue eyes stared back at him—sharp V-line jaw, boyish charm. He looked less like a soldier and more like the male lead of a romance drama.
Kagami's grin turned wicked:
"Sheesh~! With this face, not becoming some rich lady's toy boy is a waste of divine talent."
Chuckling at his own joke, he strutted out of the room.
The corridor stretched endlessly, walls of white steel gleaming under bright lights. Every step of his boots echoed with a crisp clack-clack. Staff hurried past with grim faces, while here and there Kagami passed others in the same uniform as his—likely fellow Candidate Masters.
He raised a brow, muttering to himself:
"Oho… so I'm not the limited-edition model, huh? Guess these guys are just temp workers Chaldea scooped up, same as me."
Hands in his pockets, he strolled along like a college slacker wandering the dorms looking for an internet café.
After a long walk and plenty of snooping, Kagami came to a single conclusion:
"Chaldea is big as hell!"
Sure, it wasn't as flashy as a "secret base inside a volcano" like Dai-Shocker, nor was it a "sky fortress blotting out the sun" like the supervillain groups from Tokusatsu—but still… this place was so massive, a certain green-haired straw-hat pirate could wander for life and still not find the exit.
Corridor after corridor. Door after door. Room after room.
After walking for a while, Kagami felt like he'd wandered into a game dungeon — all he needed was a creepy background track.
Cafeteria — check. Conference room — check. Armory full of weapons and equipment — check.
But that was only the surface.
The deeper he went, the more his jaw dropped:
Laplace — Phenomenon Recording Brain — all machines and cables; the sign made it look like he'd walked into the server room of… a god.
Chaldeas — Planetary Environment Model — a glowing orb suspended in midair that looked like a sci-fi prop. Kagami nearly muttered "Dragon Ball" before swallowing the thought.
Sheba — Near-Future Observation Lens — he didn't dare get close to this one; afraid it'd flash a warning: "You'll be poor forever."
Trismegistus — Soul Computing Device — the name alone was brain-melting. Kagami stared at it and reached the obvious conclusion: "Yeah, supercomputer."
Mnemosyne — Existence Verification System — tubes, wires, glass canisters everywhere. He glanced and walked on, not keen to be turned into an experiment again.
But none of that was the worst.
When he stepped into the main chamber, Kagami froze — his soul nearly left his body:
FATE — The Protective Heroic Spirit Summoning System!
A circular machine, swirling magical matrices, gold-white lights sweeping across. Just looking at it, Kagami could hear the distant wails of millions of Masters around the world.
"Goddamn…" he cursed, face contorting. "This is the place that makes 99% of gamers bleed their wallets dry, bury their wages, and ruin the futures of countless young men… the ultimate gacha!"
He shuddered and instinctively clutched his empty wallet.
"No… no way! Even if I transmigrated, I'm still broke! Don't tempt me, Fate!"
He bolted out of the chamber with every ounce of energy, as if one second's delay would let that summoning circle drain his money — I mean, his soul.
Kagami had never played, but the concept of that "ultimate gacha" left a psychological scar. It was like a door to Hell: once you step in, good luck ever getting out.
Panting down the corridor like a dog that'd been made to run a marathon, he sank into a corner and breathed hard. Hand on his chest, he whispered, trembling:
"Damn… that was close. I almost became another wallet sacrifice."
Dragging himself to a water dispenser, he poured a cup and gulped it down. The cold water slid down his throat, soothing both the dryness and the nerves wound tight like steel strings.
But before he could calm down, a tiny noise chirped at his feet:
"Fou~!"
Kagami jolted, glancing down to find a small puffball of white fur staring up at him. Round eyes, floppy ears, and an expression that looked like it was judging him.
He squinted, crouching with a deadly serious face:
"The… fuck? What the hell are you? A cat? Mini-dog? Rabbit-ferret hybrid? Or a bootleg Pokémon?"
The little creature tilted its head, eyes sparkling, and called again.
"Fou!"
Kagami was still confused when a girl's voice rang out from a distance—hurried, tinged with worry:
"Fou! Don't run off!"
He looked up with his trademark dead-fish eyes… and froze half a beat.
A girl in a Japanese school uniform rushed toward him. Soft pink hair swayed with her steps, framing a lovely face where thin glasses highlighted gentle violet eyes. There was something fragile about her worried expression, a quality that stirred the instinct to protect.
Kagami took one look and muttered in disbelief:
"…Damn. A JK this pretty in a top-secret Arctic base? Yeah, no way she's just the tea-serving staff."
The white furball, hearing the familiar voice, immediately darted from Kagami into the girl's arms. It nuzzled against her, whining in a spoiled way, as if tattling about the stranger.
The girl chuckled softly, her pale hand stroking its tiny head. But when her gaze lifted, she met Kagami's—cold, lazy, unreadable dead-fish eyes sizing her up. Her cheeks flushed pink at once.
She lowered her head, voice small and polite:
"Forgive me… Fou must have troubled you. I apologize on his behalf."
"Eh? It's fine." Kagami waved lazily, lips quirking. "This bugged-out Pokémon didn't bite me. Probably just curious."
"P… Pokémon?" Mash blinked, puzzled, as though the word was completely alien. But instead of asking, she gave a shy smile, tilting her head.
"Eto… you look unfamiliar. Might I ask… are you new to Chaldea?"
"Yeah." Kagami shrugged, voice casual and mocking. "Name's Saito Kagami… some good-for-nothing who got kidnapped by Chaldea to be a wage slave. They call it 'Master Candidate' or whatever."
Mash bowed lightly, her voice soft and courteous:
"I see… then, my name is Mash Kyrielight. It's a pleasure to meet you, Senpai."
The word "Senpai" left her lips, and Kagami froze. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment, then lowered his gaze to Mash, his face looking exactly like someone who'd just been offered life insurance on the street.
"…Hold on. I've barely been here half a day, haven't taught you a thing, haven't even treated you to a meal, haven't done any kind of practical exam…"
Hands on hips, he leaned closer, his dead-fish eyes glinting with dangerous mischief.
"So why the hell are you calling me Senpai on our first meeting? You trying to speedrun romance? Skip the cutscene or something?"
Mash instantly flushed red, stammering:
"E-Eto… it's not like that! It's… just a habit! Since you're a Master, so—"
"Master, my ass!" Kagami snapped his fingers sharply, his face turning deadly serious for half a second. "If I'm a Master, then call me 'Lord' or at least 'Boss.' But Senpai? That just sounds like some bromance-school-drama crap!"
In Mash's arms, Fou chirped "Fou~!" as if laughing.
Mash, flustered beyond saving, hugged Fou tight and hid half her face behind his fur. Her voice shrank to a mosquito's buzz:
"…Then… may I call you… Kagami-san instead?"
Kagami's lips curled into a wicked grin. Folding his arms, he nodded smugly:
"Fine, that's more reasonable. But if you slip and call me Senpai again… better treat me to breakfast first, got it?"
Mash bit her lip, nodding lightly like a kitten:
"…Understood, Kagami-san."
"Good. So… where are you headed?"
"Ah, I was going to Assembly Hall A. Director Olga wants to hold a noon meeting—sort of a motivational speech for newcomers like you, Kagami-san."
Kagami chuckled dryly, dragging out the words:
"Hoho~. Classic corporate move. Start with 'We're all in this together!' pep talk, end with forced overtime until morning. Vintage."
"I-It's not like that at all, Kagami-san!" Mash protested, her cheeks glowing red.
"Sure, sure… Anyway, to keep from getting lost, I'll just follow this GPS-with-legs."
Led reluctantly by the lovely girl, Kagami shuffled along behind her, thinking to himself he really was the kind of protagonist just being dragged into the plot.
But just then—
Fou suddenly wriggled free from Mash's arms and bolted down the corridor.
"Fou! Stop running!" Mash cried, dashing after him.
Kagami trailed lazily behind, muttering under his breath:
"…Yep, this pet's definitely an NPC guide."
And then, the two stumbled upon—a girl with bright orange hair, lying unconscious right in the middle of the corridor.
Fou pressed his fluffy little head against her cheek, nudging her as if urging her to wake up.
"Fou~…"
A soft chirp echoed, and at that moment, the girl's long lashes trembled. Slowly, her reddish-orange eyes fluttered open, hazy and confused. In her blurred vision, she saw a creature—neither cat, nor dog, closer to some glitchy ferret—perched squarely on her chest.
"Uhm…?" she groaned weakly, her face still blank with bewilderment.
Just then, footsteps echoed, growing closer and closer. She tilted her head, and before her appeared a young man with pale blond hair streaked with faint blue, walking casually as though the situation weren't urgent at all.
That young man—Kagami—knelt down on one knee beside her. One hand braced against his knee, face lowered, his eyes shone with an air of false gravitas.
And then he spoke, his voice dripping with mock drama—yet layered with sarcasm sharp enough to cut steel:
"Wake the fuck up, Master… we've got History to save."
The hallway went silent for three whole seconds.
Orange-haired girl: "???"
Mashu beside him: "E-ehhh???"
Fou: "Fouuuu~!!" (also clearly had no idea).
Kagami kept his expression as stone-cold serious as if he'd just walked out of a cyberpunk game trailer. But the slight curl tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him. This wasn't solemnity—he was trolling.