Unlimited Blade Works of the Raging Dimension

In the gray sky, giant gears loomed in the heavens, and red molten lava crept and flowed across the barren land.

At a glance, the land appeared desolate.

Yet, this strange world was filled with something else.

Swords.

Unlimited Swords.

Swords that had carved their names into history were now commonplace in this world.

At first glance, the expanse seemed endless, stretching to the horizon.

This was a world of swords, or perhaps a graveyard of swords.

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The crimson-clad Heroic Spirit slowly opened his eyes and gazed at the unchanging world, unsure of how much time had passed.

He was numb, and that numbness was etched clearly on his face. His hair, once as red as fire, had turned a pale gray, and his skin had darkened from the backlash of Mana Burst.

His appearance had changed so drastically that even if he stood before his former self, his past self would not recognize him.

The innocent dream, along with the ugliness of human nature, was buried deep within his dead heart.

After all, the only thing accompanying him was this hill of swords.

Originally, this was how it was supposed to be. After signing a contract with the Counter Force, he cherished that naive dream, repeating the cycle of slaughter day after day, drowning in the depravity of human nature.

He had even become so desperate that he wanted to kill his past self to erase his own existence.

But...

"Yet, I was awakened by my past self."

"How pathetic. Have you forgotten your past obsession? You still needed your younger self to wake you up."

"As I suspected, after becoming a Heroic Spirit, I feel like a failure."

Shaking his head, the crimson-clad Heroic Spirit slowly raised his head and gazed at the hill of swords he had seen countless times, putting an end to his memories of the past.

But today was an extraordinary day.

"What is that?"

The crimson-clad Heroic Spirit lifted his head and looked toward the gray sky.

A silver-white light emerged from the horizon, streaking across the sky filled with giant gears like a meteor, and shot toward him.

A meteor?

"That's impossible. How could there be something in my mental world that I don't understand?"

An outsider?

A serious expression appeared on his face, an instinctive reaction when facing battle.

"Let's see what it is first."

He extended his left hand, and the bow that had accompanied him in countless battles appeared in his grasp.

Several arrows shot toward the target.

*SWOOSH!*

As long as the archer survived, his arrows would continue to pursue their target no matter how many times they were shot down.

That was how it was.

Yet, to the crimson-clad Heroic Spirit's surprise, the arrows passed through the source of light as if they had hit nothing.

"What's going on? Does that thing have no substance?"

Sensing something was wrong, he immediately turned to evade, but by this time, the white light source seemed to have locked onto its target, and its speed suddenly increased severalfold, striking him before he could dodge.

Like water mixing with milk, the white orb of light merged into his body.

"What the hell is this..."

Before he could react, his consciousness was flooded with a wave of information.

The place remained as quiet as ever, as if nothing had happened. Only the crimson-clad Heroic Spirit lay motionless on the ground, unconscious, proving that everything had just occurred.

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The crimson-clad Heroic Spirit was now submerged in a vast amount of information.

The light source had carried fragments of someone's soul.

He was now observing this man's life as if watching a film.

From birth, growing up, to death by accident, to obtaining this light source, and many events thereafter, yet much of it was incomplete, as if something was missing.

The crimson-clad Heroic Spirit opened his eyes, and he simply accepted the information.

There was a hint of confusion and wonder on his surprised face.

This person seemed to be from a parallel world but had died due to an unforeseen disaster. However, he had accidentally obtained this light source. His soul traveled with this light source, but because he was too weak, he eventually died, and his soul slowly disintegrated. Yet, this light source carried the fragments of his soul to its own world and ultimately merged with him.

There was no doubt. He was aware of the existence of parallel worlds. He had visited parallel worlds many times to carry out his duties as a Guardian.

However, in the man's memories, he saw some familiar words: Artoria Pendragon, Fifth Holy Grail War, Unlimited Blade Works, and Gate of Babylon.

And according to the man's memories, these terms came from a series of anime, though he had no interest in them. He had stumbled upon these terms while browsing the internet.

"What's going on? Is everything I've experienced just a pre-written scenario?"

Seeing these messages, the crimson-clad Heroic Spirit felt momentarily overwhelmed. It was inevitable to question whether the world he had lived in his entire life was merely a film or a ridiculous TV show in the eyes of others. Anyone who knew this would doubt reality for a moment. The reason he could endure it was because he had been through countless battles and possessed a strong will.

Suppressing his unspoken emotions, he received another message. It was information about himself that came from the orb of light.

"I see. This is its purpose, but everything is still unclear."

The crimson-clad Heroic Spirit muttered to himself.

This unknown light source seemed to be an existence between worlds, possessing many powerful functions, but for some reason, parts of it were missing. Thus, it wandered through many worlds, hoping to find a host who could complete its missing parts.

The previous person was the first host it had chosen. Unfortunately, this host was just an ordinary person, too weak. When he passed through the barrier of the world, he experienced a slight energy fluctuation, and his soul disintegrated.

This light source instinctively chose the next host and eventually found the crimson-clad Heroic Spirit.

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"Should I go?"

The crimson-clad Heroic Spirit was lost in deep thought.

He was somewhat tempted.

As a Guardian, it was impossible for someone who had signed a contract with Alaya to be free.

Yet, there was clearly an opportunity here.

Of course, there was also a second possibility: that these messages were false, and if he agreed, he might be in danger, with the worst outcome being death.

But...

The crimson-clad Heroic Spirit slightly raised the corner of his mouth.

"So what if I die? If I were afraid of death, I could have avoided signing a contract with Alaya when I was young. Moreover, I might be able to see a broader world, so let's do it."

"Though I don't know what you are, please guide me in the future. By the way, my name is Emiya Shirou."

The crimson-clad Heroic Spirit raised his head, gazed at the sky, and softly uttered these words.