Chapter 20 What Sigma Wants to Know
Who is Shirou Emiya?
This is a question both simple and complex—or more plainly, a philosophical one. A person cannot define themselves through a single lens. As long as one exists in this world, their identity differs across the perspective of every "other."
This concept can be summarized as the unification of how others see you and how you see yourself.
He persists in performing acts of hypocrisy; his self-awareness of this fact will not change. Therefore, what remains are the views of those who have come into contact with him. One should not seek a perspective from those who are too close.
That said, if one were to speak through the lens of a certain "To-" or a certain "Lu-", there is a risk of the sentiment being tainted by affection, making them unreliable references. However, if one were to look through the eyes of someone like a certain "Is-", they might indeed say this:
"A somewhat incomprehensible good person."
At least to an uninvolved observer, he is indeed "incomprehensible." It seems the word "stop" has never existed in this man's life, nor has he ever harbored resentment toward others.
Advance, stroll, and then continue to sprint.
From the moment he was saved, the world became full of things that must be done in this lifetime—things that will be done. When he sees someone smile, he laughs; when he sees someone fall into misfortune, he grieves. Broad as the world may be, to the original youth, it was merely a collection of ideals.
Such a man might lose his way, might stray, or feel hopeless in a world where ideals can never be fully realized. Such possibilities found him. Such a man might encounter a single "sinner" and face the overtime dilemma of "deciding the priority of being an Ally of Justice." Such events also found him. His body was shaved down, riddled with holes. However, once those matters concluded, the people he helped—who never left his side—became his anchors.
The story of a boy that was far too harsh has ended. He moves straight ahead. The man who already knows where he is going treads a path that reaches further than his past possibilities. He is no longer alone on the road; the voices of companions have begun to join him. The colors of the past are merely foundation stones. Guided by fate, he finally set foot in Snowfield—an "Extra Individual" whom no one could have predicted.
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Now, there is another story in this world.
"You there, listen well, child of our compatriots. You must destroy those who intend to take things away from us."
To Sigma, in hindsight, that was merely a crude method of brainwashing.
"Outsiders took your kin! Foreign terror-demons kidnapped your mother. Therefore, you must destroy those who seek to plunder us! One day, 'we' will take back your mother!"
But those voices would never be heard again. They were fragments of a childhood long since extinguished.
He is called "Sigma." This was never a name, merely a designation. "Sigma" was just one of the Greek letters assigned to identify "twenty-four similar individuals." It was only after that entire group was wiped out that he continued to use it as his name.
Sigma walked alone through the narrow alleyways. He heard the sound of firearms echoing in the distance. He didn't stop his pace, merely thinking, "I see," and looked to his side.
"Is that Faldeus's unit firing?"
"They are indeed firing," replied the old man whom only Sigma could see.
Sigma had summoned a special class called Watcher, which resulted in him being "pushed" into the position of Lancer instead. To put it simply... as a minor figure with no noteworthy achievements, the mercenary Sigma summoned a mysterious "surveillance monitor," and due to a "bug" in the system, he ended up with the title of Lancer (unactivated). That's essentially what happened.
Every person talking to Sigma at his side was a "Shadow" cast by this mysterious monitor. Watcher could observe everything in this Holy Grail War, so the information provided by its Shadows was absolute fact.
Sigma didn't overthink it. He simply took the Shadow's words as total truth and sighed.
"I've dealt with Faldeus's troops before... showing myself directly shouldn't be a problem then."
The old man smiled but said nothing.
"Since Faldeus's unit is firing at this point in time, it means Shirou Emiya has been ambushed. Is Shirou Emiya still alive?"
"He is quite well, full of spirit."
"...That's impressive. If Faldeus's unit tried to assassinate me, I'd be dead for sure."
Sigma muttered this with total rationality. He soon realized that saying such a thing so nonchalantly suggested he lacked a certain fear of death.
Having long since grown accustomed to this trait, Sigma indifferently withdrew his gaze and returned to his memories.
When the organization that raised him was destroyed, Sigma learned of his mother's death for the first time. Maiya Hisau died during the Fourth Holy Grail War.
If it were the current Sigma, he might wonder—as the assistant to the "Magus Killer" Kiritsugu Emiya, what was she thinking before she died?
The young Sigma, having just escaped the organization, simply thought: I see.
Sigma is certainly abnormal. He lacks a goal. He lacks presence. He lacks a wish.
Precisely because of this, he drifts with the current, having been hired by the self-proclaimed "Mastermind" Francesca to summon a Heroic Spirit. He was a pawn for others in his childhood, a mercenary taking freelance missions in his youth; he traveled to many battlefields and fought many people. Yet, looking at the big picture, he has achieved nothing except maintaining his own survival, and he does not know why he is alive.
Sigma is just that kind of person. Up until now, he has been nothing more than a boring story existing objectively in the world.
"Is that so? However, I feel that you—currently searching for someone—are far more proactive than the version of yourself you see in your mind."
'That is an illusion.'
The proof was that Sigma hadn't thought about what to do after finding him, or even what would happen to himself. He certainly couldn't imagine what his future self would look like.
"Even while taking such action, do you still insist you are 'drifting with the current'?"
Yes. Because without Francesca's twisted request, Sigma would never have taken the first step. Up to this point, Sigma was not a person who could act autonomously or spontaneously for the sake of something.
"I have one last question: Why are you so interested in that existence?"
'Am I really interested?'
Sigma paused briefly, uncertain. Then, he organized the tangled thoughts in his heart into words.
—Because he seems to burn with an extraordinary flame of existence. A fire-red brilliance that unconsciously makes one want to look deeper.
Sigma wanted to know, just a little, the origin of such light.
"......So, can you tell me?"
Sigma turned a corner. A long passage appeared before him, connecting to another alley. That man was there; there was no mistake. The son of Maiya moved his legs and walked toward him.
His trench coat fluttered, and the mechanical "click" of friction sounded. In the shadow by his arm, beneath the coat, the silhouette of a concealed handgun vanished.
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