The Chosen of Tengri(Fate Stay Night)

The streets of Fuyuki City were quiet once more, the echoes of the battle fading into the night. Rin Tohsaka stood on a rooftop overlooking the area where Lancer had retreated. Her arms were crossed, her sharp eyes locked onto the retreating figure of Shirou Emiya and Saber as they made their way back to his home.

Beside her, Archer materialized in a shimmer of light, his crimson coat billowing slightly in the faint breeze. His gaze followed Rin's, settling on the boy below with a faint frown.

"Interesting," Archer said, his tone neutral but edged with intrigue.

Rin glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting doesn't even begin to cover it," she replied. "How does someone like that summon a Saber-class Servant? He barely knows how to use magic, let alone fight."

Archer folded his arms, his expression unreadable. "It's unusual, I'll admit," he said. "But not unheard of. The Grail can be... unpredictable."

Rin sighed, her gaze returning to Shirou. "Still, there's something about him," she said quietly. "The way he reacted during the fight—it wasn't normal."

Archer's brow furrowed slightly as he considered her words. He had noticed it too—the subtle shifts in Shirou's posture, the way his body seemed to move on instinct, as though guided by experience he shouldn't have.

"That boy," Archer said, his voice low. "He's carrying something. Something he doesn't understand yet."

Rin tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Archer was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. "There's a certain... resonance to him," he said finally. "A familiarity in the way he holds himself, even in the way he hesitates. He doesn't know it yet, but his path is already set. He's chasing something, even if he doesn't realize it."

Rin frowned. "You're being cryptic again, Archer. Just say what you mean."

Archer smirked faintly. "It wouldn't help if I did. Let's just say he's closer to this war than he thinks."

Rin's eyes narrowed as she considered his words. "Do you think it's because of Saber?" she asked. "Maybe their bond is stronger than usual."

Archer shook his head. "No, it's not her. It's him."

Rin's frown deepened. "Him? Shirou Emiya? He barely knows how to defend himself."

"True," Archer admitted. "But he's not entirely untrained, is he? The way he moved in that fight—those weren't the clumsy movements of a beginner. They were instinctive. Controlled, even. For someone who claims to know nothing about combat, he handled himself surprisingly well."

Rin crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on Shirou's retreating figure. "But how? He's not a skilled mage. He's not even part of a major family. Where would he have learned something like that?"

Archer didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked down at Shirou, his expression unreadable. "Sometimes, it's not about where you've trained," he said quietly. "Sometimes, it's about what's been burned into your soul."

Rin blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in Archer's tone. She turned to him, her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Archer's smirk returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "It's nothing," he said, brushing off her question. "Just an observation."

Rin's frustration flared, but she didn't press him further. She knew from experience that Archer wouldn't reveal anything unless he wanted to.

"Fine," she said, her tone clipped. "But we're not done with this conversation. If you know something about Shirou Emiya, I want to hear it."

Archer chuckled softly, the sound carrying a faint edge of bitterness. "Trust me, Rin. You'll figure it out soon enough."

The two fell into silence, their gazes returning to the boy and his Servant below. Rin's mind raced with possibilities, each one more puzzling than the last.

Shirou Emiya was an enigma, a puzzle she couldn't quite piece together. But one thing was clear: he was more than he appeared to be.

Meanwhile, in Shirou's Workshop

Shirou collapsed onto the floor of his workshop, his body trembling from the lingering adrenaline of the fight. Saber stood nearby, her blade sheathed, her expression calm but sharp as she watched him.

"You're reckless," Saber said bluntly. "If I hadn't intervened, Lancer would have killed you."

Shirou sat up, rubbing his temples. "I didn't mean to get in the way," he muttered. "I just... I couldn't stand there and do nothing."

"Your instincts are admirable," Saber said. "But admiration alone will not keep you alive."

Shirou looked up at her, his chest tightening. "I know. I just... I don't know how to fight like you do. I don't even know where to start."

Saber stepped closer, her gaze softening slightly. "Then we will begin with the basics," she said. "If you are to survive this war, you must understand what it means to fight. To protect."

Shirou nodded, though doubt lingered in his mind. He didn't know if he had what it took to be a Master, but one thing was clear: he couldn't afford to hesitate any longer.

As Rin and Archer observed from afar, and Saber's lessons began to take root, Shirou's path in the Holy Grail War grew clearer.

Far away, on the dreamlike steppe, Genghis Khan stood at the forge, his gaze fixed on the stars above. "The boy is waking," he murmured. "But will he rise before it's too late?"