Chapter 22: Stirring Shadows
Riya woke up with a goofy smile still lingering on his face.
The dreamy memory of his moonlit "race" with Atalanta warmed his chest and left a pleasant ache in his bones.
He stretched like a cat, grinning to himself as the light poured in from the bedroom window.
Like clockwork, he rolled out of bed, ready to brush his teeth, take a refreshing shower, and grab something light from the kitchen before planning the day ahead.
But that plan was derailed fast.
He heard it—the unmistakable noises echoing from the bathroom.
Moaning.
Rhythmic slaps of wet skin.
The sharp inhale of breath right before a broken whimper.
Riya stood frozen in place, his grin dropping instantly into a look of pure horror.
"No... not again," he muttered, rubbing his temples.
He approached the bathroom door as if walking to his doom, each step accompanied by another moan or gasp that made his soul shrivel.
"Sieg... Astolfo..." he whispered like a curse.
"Do you two ever stop?"
They didn't.
And just like that, Riya's morning routine was officially cancelled.
He trudged back to his room with a scowl.
Meanwhile, far from Riya's domestic frustration, something much darker stirred in the forest near Red's castle.
Avicebron stood in solemn silence, cloaked in the shadows of the trees.
Before him loomed the shape of his nearly completed Noble Phantasm—a towering golem of grotesque and divine beauty, carved from stone, magic, and ambition.
It was nearly finished.
Only one piece remained.
The core.
Avicebron had originally planned to use Sieg, knowing that the homunculus' unusual existence and soul resonance made him a perfect candidate.
But the plan had collapsed—Riya, Muramasa, and Astolfo formed an impenetrable defense around Sieg, making it impossible to even approach him.
Worse still, Riya's identity as the Ruler made Avicebron hesitate.
The boy was unpredictable.
Dangerous.
And impossible to track.
Faced with this failure, Avicebron reluctantly turned to Shirou for help.
But Shirou had his own ideas.
Rather than endanger Sieg, Shirou simply summoned a homunculus who left and soon returned—dragging a pale, trembling figure behind him.
"Roche," Avicebron said, voice unreadable.
The boy looked up, terrified, yet confused.
"Teacher...? What is this?"
Shirou stepped forward, his voice as gentle as it was chilling.
"The perfect core."
"You always said he was the key to your greatest creation, didn't you?"
Roche stammered. "I—I only ever wanted to help create them... I never meant to become one...!"
But it was already decided.
Avicebron didn't respond immediately.
For a long moment, he simply stared at Roche, eyes unreadable behind his mask.
Then he nodded once.
"Yes," he said. "You are ideal."
The golem wouldn't be completed today, Shirou explained.
Not just because activating it would reduce their stronghold to ash, but also due to a deeper, hidden reason that Shirou seemed to want Avicebron to not know.
Avicebron accepted this logic, though something about it clearly troubled him.
He agreed to move the golem to a distant glade, hidden in the forest.
There, it would awaken at dawn.
And then… the world would change.
Back in Trifas, the day passed in relative peace—or at least, for most.
Sieg and Astolfo were enjoying an idyllic date.
They wandered from shop to shop, window-shopping, snacking on sweets, even riding a Ferris wheel that had been briefly reactivated by a local Magus as a "gift to morale."
Their laughter echoed into the sky, infectious and carefree.
Sieg smiled more today than he had in his entire short life.
But behind them, in the shadows, two very different presences followed closely.
Riya and Muramasa.
"Why are we stalking them again?"
Muramasa asked flatly.
"Because," Riya growled, eyes narrowed.
"I've connected with five female heroic spiritis now. Five! And not one date!"
"Meanwhile, that gay-boy homunculus is out here living a damn romcom!"
"You sound jealous."
"I am jealous!"
They ducked behind a flower cart as Astolfo leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Sieg's cheek.
Riya twitched.
And when the couple giggled and shared an ice cream cone—his limit snapped.
Channeling Atalanta's powers, Riya conjured a faint, nearly invisible arrow.
With surgical precision, he loosed it.
Thump!
The wind shifted.
A blur of movement—and the arrow zipped past Astolfo's head, startling him enough to fumble his cone.
Splat.
Strawberry cream across Sieg's face.
"Bingo," Riya whispered, grinning.
But fate, ever cruel, struck back.
Astolfo simply giggled, leaned in, and licked the ice cream off Sieg's face.
Then, in the most dramatic and romantic fashion possible, he pulled Sieg in for a deep kiss—earning several swoons from passersby.
Muramasa stared in stunned silence. "…Is there any point anymore?"
Riya collapsed behind the cart, groaning in defeat. "They can't keep getting away with this…"
Back at Red's Castle, Shirou sat at a desk lit by candlelight, alone.
He had been writing for hours—pausing, tearing up drafts, and starting again.
Now, with steady hands, he finished his letter.
It was addressed to the Clock Tower, the heart of the Mage's Association.
It detailed everything:
Avicebron's Noble Phantasm.
Its construction, its projected power, its awakening time.
The coordinates for its location in the forest.
A betrayal?
Not quite.
Shirou Kotomine's wish had always been the salvation of mankind.
There was no point in saving a future if it came at the cost of humanity's present.
The golem, left unchecked, could wipe out everything.
Shirou needed help.
And he wasn't willing to sacrifice Karna, Achilles, or his other remaining Servants just to stop it.
Let the Clock Tower deal with it.
Let the Ruler interfere.
Let anyone to stop it—so long as it didn't hinder his endgame.
He sealed the letter with wax, stamped it with his false priest's ring, and whispered a quiet prayer.
"Forgive me," he murmured.
"But everything must unfold... exactly as planned."
Tomorrow, the sun would rise on chaos.
And the war would never be the same.