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"Everyone, leave this place immediately!"
Rin Tohsaka's voice rang out, as loud as she could manage, echoing through the shelter.
If you listened carefully, there was a faint tremor in her tone.
It was the middle of the night, but Zenjou, who was working overtime, rushed over without even a proper greeting. He quickly began urging the staff to evacuate the premises.
Ichika Nakano and the other ten or so refugees bowed their heads and followed the staff out of the lobby.
Atram glanced around, sensing that something was wrong. But due to his pride, he maintained a composed façade, standing still with an air of arrogance.
With a loud bang, the shelter door slammed shut as Rin left.
In an instant, the vast shelter lobby was reduced to just two people: Roy and Atram. A cold draft seemed to rise from nowhere, filling the empty space between them.
"What now? Are you challenging me to a duel?"
Atram's alertness spiked. His eyes locked onto Roy, who hadn't moved a muscle, yet he sneered through clenched teeth.
"Heh…"
Roy let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Atram, I'm not in a good mood today."
He raised his hand, slowly removing the glasses perched on his nose.
At that moment, it was as if a switch had been flipped.
The smile on Roy's face vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dark, suffocating malice.
"Who do you think you are? You think you're Tohsaka Rin?"
Roy's lips curled into a disdainful grin, his head tilted upward, the storm brewing in his eyes.
His footstep echoed—thud—as his leather boots clicked against the tile floor, the sound reverberating in the hollow hall.
A thin sheen of sweat appeared on Atram's forehead.
"What are you trying to do... a magic battle? I'm not afraid of you!"
As Roy approached, Atram's wariness collapsed under the weight of his rising panic. He knew Roy's magical prowess was formidable—just from the barrier he'd helped repair. So before Roy could get any closer, Atram snarled and, in a show of intimidation, pulled out his magical artifact.
It was a small ceramic jar.
Its surface bore signs of wear and age, with intricate patterns hinting at ancient human imagination.
The artifact had been excavated from a Middle Eastern ruin. It was often considered the world's oldest battery—created not for practical electrical use, but as an accidental discovery while attempting to gild objects. In the world of magic, the concept extracted from such ancient artifacts formed the basis of the "Primitive Battery" technique.
This was Atram's family specialty, and it fit the image of nouveau riche magi perfectly.
"You've only been practicing magic for a few years! Let me teach you something—magical knowledge doesn't equal strength!"
Feeling his confidence return, Atram smirked as he held the jar. Injecting his magic into the artifact, a pale electric glow flickered to life across its surface. In the blink of an eye, the light expanded outward, forming a web of electricity that shot toward Roy.
In the magical world, knowing more magic didn't necessarily make you stronger. The key was transforming that knowledge into power.
The "Primitive Battery" allowed Atram's family to convert various forms of magical energy—such as vitality—into electricity, a force revered by many mythologies and regions since ancient times.
It was one of the more destructive techniques in magic, capable of altering weather if deployed by a large enough group. But—
"Pathetic."
Roy's eyes opened, and the glow of his Mystic Eyes radiated out.
In an instant, Atram felt something wedge itself between him and the jar.
In the blink of an eye, the ceramic jar slipped from his control.
Even though he had activated the spell, the magic now felt as if it belonged to someone else.
The electric web hanging in midair vanished like mist, dissipating silently.
"—M-Mystic Eyes?"
Atram's voice wavered, tinged with a fear he hadn't even realized he possessed.
Mystic Eyes were the mark of an elite magician, but if someone was born with them, it signified a rare, innate power.
And those of gem-level were always innate.
But he's a homunculus, right? How could a homunculus have Mystic Eyes?
Roy casually waved a finger.
The electricity from the jar flared up again, forming a massive hand of lightning that lunged toward Atram.
"Aaaghhhhhhh—!!"
Before Atram could process the chaos in his mind, the electric hand clamped down on him. As he screamed, currents surged through his body, burning his skin to a crisp.
The pain silenced his voice, even destroying his vocal cords, rendering him unable to scream anymore.
Worse still, he could feel his magic power draining away.
Yes, the electricity generated from his own artifact was using his magic against him.
Could there be anything more humiliating?
With his limited magic reserves, it wasn't long before Atram was spent.
He collapsed onto the floor, his entire body charred black, the burns covering every inch of him.
For an ordinary person, these injuries would be fatal. But for a mage, their inherent vitality allowed him to cling to life a little longer.
Roy approached, a dissatisfied expression on his face.
"You're already down? How disappointing."
Please… let me go…
Atram's primal instinct begged for mercy. But his destroyed vocal cords prevented him from speaking, from even pleading for his life.
Roy activated the runes on his arms and legs, walking over to Atram's prone form. He bent down, placing a boot on Atram's shoulder and gripping his arm.
With a sharp yank, the sound of tearing flesh filled the air as he ripped Atram's arm clean off.
A twisted grin spread across Roy's face, malicious satisfaction radiating from him.
Atram could do nothing.
No screams.
No resistance.
Like a condemned prisoner awaiting execution, he lay there, waiting for his end.
…
Ten minutes later.
With a soft creak, the shelter door opened once again.
Roy stepped out, glasses perched on his nose, a smile playing on his lips.
"…Feeling better now?"
Rin was the only one waiting outside. Her expression was complicated as she looked at Roy.
"Refreshed, beyond words!"
Roy exhaled heavily, as if purging all the pent-up negativity in his heart.
"What about the refugees? Let's get going. The sun's almost up, and I'm exhausted. Let's finish the attendant paperwork and head home to sleep."
Before leaving, Rin glanced back inside the shelter.
No blood.
No remains.
Not even any clothes.
All that was left were scattered patches of thin, gray ash.
Rin's heart felt heavy, weighed down like it had been filled with lead.
"Sometimes I wonder if you're a murderer," she said quietly.
"How rude. I love humanity," Roy responded, his smile completely sincere.
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