IBHJ 1351

Shirou crossed the boundary between worlds and returned to the present.

He stood above the clouds, high over Iceland, gazing down at the massive beam of light that pierced the sky like a spear.

It didn’t feel like a spell. More like a vast, living network—an enormous web stretching across the leylines, linking to distant nodes scattered all over the world.

His expression hardened. “…It really is the Grand Summoning Circle.”

No—this was something beyond even that.

Back then, he’d used the Grand Circle to summon Shakyamuni. But this… this thing dwarfed everything he’d accomplished. It wasn’t just tapping into pan-humanity’s leylines. It was pulling from Connection points across the multiverse, weaving a ritual so massive it bent the rules of dimensions themselves.

Whatever it was summoning… it wouldn’t be small. The scale alone was terrifying.

Then a voice rang out from behind him.

“Am I too late? Has the anchor already been set?”

Shirou turned.

Manaka Sajyou stood there, poised on the clouds, quietly muttering to herself.

“…Manaka?”

She turned at the sound of his voice, eyes narrowing as they landed on him. “Fujimaru Shirou? You... weren’t you inside the Gate?”

“This is just one of my split bodies,” he said, then studied her more closely. “But you… as the First Vessel, I expected you to be in the Origin Era. Why are you still here, in the present?”

She hesitated. “…I’ve something to do. I’m not entering that place for now.”

He didn’t know her reasons. But he didn’t push it.

“Doesn’t matter right now,” he said. “You’re not the version of Manaka I have a life-and-death grudge with, so let’s put that aside. Just tell me—what’s going on here? And what exactly is this ritual supposed to summon?”

She stayed quiet for a moment, then gave a nod.

As she began explaining, Shirou listened in silence.

“…Beast VII. So that’s the hand that guy’s playing now,” he muttered, his frown deepening.

Then his eyes shifted back to her.

“So the reason you stayed in the present… it’s because of my sister, isn’t it? Because of Ritsuka.”

Manaka didn’t reply. But the silence spoke for her.

Ritsuka had been the first to acknowledge her—the first to accept this version of Manaka. A fake. An artificial human.

She’d never tried to be her friend. That had never been Ritsuka’s goal.

But to Manaka… she already was. Her first friend.

Shirou let out a quiet breath and gave a small shake of his head. “Let’s stay focused. Right now, we’re on the same side against the Lord of Salvation. So let’s stop this summoning circle first.”

He looked back at the glowing network in the sky.

“I don’t know what it’s summoning, but if it needs the Beasts of the End just to form the foundation… then whatever it is, it could wipe out this entire star system. We can’t let that happen.”

Manaka gave a silent nod.

The two of them exchanged strategies, quickly and efficiently, then split up.

Shirou turned toward Fuyuki City and flew.

The seven connection points—they were the base of the ritual, the key points holding the summoning circle together. China, Northern Europe, South America, Romania, Britain…

Why those seven locations? Not even the Council had a clear answer.

But that didn’t matter now. The ritual was already in motion, and it had to be stopped. No one knew what exactly was being summoned—but it couldn’t be allowed to arrive in the present world.

Shirou descended into Fuyuki.

This body made from mud didn’t hold much power. That was why he had to move quickly. Prepare everything in advance.

Because the first anchor to activate… was here. Fuyuki. The one already invaded by the abomination.

As Beast VII activated each anchor in sequence, beams of strange light burst through the dimensional walls between worlds. They shot up from the planet, pierced through pan-human history, and disappeared into the vortex hanging high in the sky.

A network was forming—slowly, methodically—woven like a web around the Vortex Gate, stretching outward until it encircled the entire globe.

No one knew the exact nature of what the Lord of Salvation intended to summon with this colossal circle. But even before its completion, the effects were undeniable. The planet was already caught in a storm of violent upheaval.

Rumble… rumble…

Dark thunder echoed from the swirling black nebula that cloaked the vortex above.

Across the sky, enormous mutated avian creatures swept forward in formation—each one more than ten meters long, wings crackling with arcs of lightning pulled from the heart of the storm. Wherever they passed, thunder roared. Flashes of electricity lit up the sky. And the smaller birds were vaporized before they had the chance to escape.

A squadron of jet fighters surged into view, engines screaming. They closed in fast and opened fire without hesitation.

Fwoosh. Fwoosh. Fwoosh.

Missiles streaked upward. Heavy gunfire followed—shells and explosives tearing through the air like a hailstorm.

Boom. BOOM.

One creature was ripped apart mid-flight. Then another. Showers of blood and twisted flesh filled the sky as several of the beasts went down, caught off guard by the sudden ambush.

But the moment of victory didn’t last.

The rest of the flock screeched and turned. Lightning surged across their wings. A pulse spread through the air—an invisible wave of electromagnetic force.

Within seconds, the jets began to falter. Systems shorted out. Controls froze.

And one by one, the aircraft started to fall.

And then, amid the panicked screams of the pilots, the creatures struck.

Razor-sharp beaks punched through cockpits, tearing through steel, glass, and flesh. Blood sprayed across wings. Shredded limbs tumbled from the sky. It was slaughter—clean, fast, and merciless.

Morale broke in an instant.

Even seasoned soldiers—veterans of modern war—couldn’t hold back the fear clawing at their chests. Their weapons were dead. Their systems fried. Trapped inside their own falling machines, they were helpless. Like birds with nowhere to fly.

But then—

A white flash split the sky.

In a single strike, the strongest of the beasts exploded—its massive body vaporized before it hit the ground.

The rest of the flock froze.

One by one, they turned, glaring toward the source of that attack.

And that’s when the pilots saw him—a lone figure, drifting through the air with body made of mud.

“SKREEEE—!”

The beasts shrieked. Whatever they saw in that figure, it terrified them. Their wings thrashed wildly as they tried to retreat, their formation breaking apart in panic.

But the mud-man didn’t let them go.

He raised one hand—and waved.

A sliver of light curved outward from his fingertips, thin and silent like a thread cutting through space.

For a moment, the world held its breath.

Then—

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Each creature lit up in a burst of flame and blood, their bodies torn apart mid-flight. One after another, they vanished in blinding flashes of red and gold.

When it was over, there was nothing left. No feathers. No bodies. No shadows.

Just smoke, ash, and the fading shimmer of light.