The Chosen of Tengri(Fate Stay Night)

 Shirou's heart pounded as he ran, his breath visible in the frigid air. The streets of Fuyuki City twisted around him like a labyrinth, each turn bringing him deeper into unfamiliar territory. The sound of footsteps followed him, relentless and unyielding, echoing in the emptiness like a predator closing in on its prey.

He glanced over his shoulder, his chest tightening. The figure with the spear was nowhere to be seen, but the feeling of being hunted refused to fade.

"This can't be real" Shirou muttered, his voice shaking. "It's just... a bad dream, right?"

But the chill in the air, the burning in his lungs, and the weight of his fear were all too real.

As he turned another corner, Shirou skidded to a stop, his eyes widening. Ahead of him, two figures stood in the middle of a deserted intersection, their forms illuminated by the pale glow of the streetlights.

One of them was tall and lithe, clad in crimson armor that shimmered faintly in the light. A long spear rested casually in his hand, its tip gleaming with an unnatural sharpness.

The other figure was smaller, their stance calm and poised. A faint ripple of energy surrounded them, distorting the air like a heatwave. Shirou couldn't make out their features, but the bow slung across their back left no doubt about their weapon of choice.

The two figures faced each other in tense silence, the air between them heavy with unspoken challenge.

Shirou's breath caught in his throat. He knew instinctively that these weren't ordinary people. The aura they radiated was overwhelming, suffocating, as though the very space around them was bending under their presence.

"What... what is this?" Shirou whispered, his voice barely audible.

The spearman was the first to move. He lunged forward with incredible speed, his spear slicing through the air in a blur of crimson. The other figure dodged gracefully, their movements fluid and precise, as though they had anticipated the attack before it came.

The clash that followed was like nothing Shirou had ever seen.

Blades of energy erupted from the bowman's hands, meeting the spear's strikes with deafening force. Sparks flew with each collision, lighting up the intersection like a storm of fireflies. The sheer power of their attacks cracked the pavement beneath their feet, sending shockwaves rippling through the air.

Shirou stumbled back, his legs trembling. The fight was otherworldly, a display of strength and speed that defied all logic.

"This isn't possible" he muttered, clutching at a nearby lamppost for support. "What am I looking at?"

The spearman laughed, a low, mocking sound that echoed through the empty streets. "Is that all you've got, Archer? You're barely keeping up."

The bowman Archer smirked faintly, his voice cool and confident. "If I were going all out, you wouldn't be standing right now."

The spearman grinned, his crimson armor glinting as he twirled his spear with a flourish. "Big talk. Let's see if you can back it up."

He lunged again, his spear striking with blinding speed. Archer responded in kind, his twin energy blades meeting the attack with equal force. The resulting shockwave tore through the street, sending fragments of asphalt flying.

Shirou ducked instinctively, his arms covering his head as debris rained down around him. The sheer scale of the battle left him paralyzed, unable to move or think beyond the immediate danger.

I need to get out of here, Shirou thought desperately, his heart racing. But... I can't just leave. What if someone else gets caught up in this?

His grip tightened on the lamppost, his legs refusing to obey him.

The fight raged on, the two combatants trading blows with unrelenting ferocity. But then, without warning, the spearman froze.

He straightened slowly, his crimson eyes narrowing as his gaze swept the street.

"We've got company" he said, his tone low but sharp.

Archer followed his gaze, his expression darkening as his eyes landed on Shirou.

Shirou's breath hitched, his blood running cold.

"You've got to be kidding me" Archer muttered, lowering his blades.

The spearman smirked, his grip on the spear tightening. "Well, well. Looks like we've got a little rat watching the show."

He turned fully toward Shirou, the predatory glint in his eyes sending a wave of dread crashing over him.

"Guess I'll have to take care of you first" the spearman said, his voice laced with cruel amusement.

Shirou's legs finally obeyed him, and he stumbled back, his heart pounding. "Wait! I didn't mean..."

The spearman moved faster than Shirou could react. In an instant, he was in front of him, the tip of his spear aimed directly at Shirou's chest.

Time seemed to slow as the weapon lunged forward. Shirou's mind raced, panic overtaking him. I'm going to die.

But before the spear could pierce him, a powerful gust of wind erupted between them, throwing the spearman back.

Shirou staggered, his vision blurring as he collapsed to the ground. The world around him faded into darkness, the last thing he saw was the faint glow of energy swirling around him.

When Shirou opened his eyes, he was lying on the cold floor of his workshop, his body trembling. Blood dripped from a shallow wound on his shoulder, staining the ground beneath him.

As he tried to push himself up, his gaze fell on the ceremonial sword fragment resting on the table. Its surface shimmered faintly, as though responding to the blood pooling nearby.

Far in the distance, the faint sound of footsteps echoed once more.