The dream came suddenly, pulling Shirou into its grasp as soon as he closed his eyes. One moment, he was lying in his small bed, the faint chirping of crickets outside lulling him into a restless sleep. The next, he was standing in a place that felt vast, ancient, and impossibly real.
The ground beneath his feet was soft and uneven, a mix of grass and earth that stretched endlessly in all directions. A cold wind swept through the air, carrying with it the scent of dust and open skies. Shirou looked around, his breath hitching as he took in his surroundings.
It was a steppe—an expanse of rolling plains that seemed to go on forever. The horizon was distant and hazy, blending seamlessly into the sky, which was darker than any night he had ever seen. Stars filled the heavens, their light sharper and brighter than he thought possible, casting the land in a pale, silvery glow.
But the sky was not still.
The stars seemed to pulse, shifting and swirling as though moved by an invisible hand. Patterns emerged and dissolved, forming shapes that Shirou couldn't quite grasp. The sight was both beautiful and unsettling, like the universe itself was alive and watching him.
Shirou turned slowly, trying to make sense of the dream. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing loudly in the vast silence.
Then, he felt it a presence.
It was faint at first, like a whisper carried on the wind. But it grew stronger with each passing moment, pressing against him like the weight of an unseen storm. Shirou turned toward it, his body tense.
In the distance, atop a small hill, stood a figure.
The figure was tall and imposing, wrapped in a billowing cloak that seemed to shift and shimmer like the stars above. Their face was obscured by shadow, but their eyes burned with an intense light, piercing through the darkness. Around them, the air seemed to hum with power, and the grass at their feet swayed as if moved by an unseen force.
Shirou swallowed hard, his throat dry. He didn't know who—or what—this figure was, but he felt drawn to them, as though an invisible thread was pulling him closer.
He took a hesitant step forward, his feet sinking slightly into the soft earth. The figure didn't move, their gaze fixed on him with an intensity that made Shirou's skin prickle.
"Who are you?" Shirou called, his voice trembling but firm.
For a long moment, the figure said nothing. Then, in a voice that seemed to echo from the depths of the earth and the farthest reaches of the sky, they spoke:
"You called to the heavens."
Shirou froze, his heart skipping a beat. The voice was deep and resonant, carrying a weight that seemed to shake the very air.
"I… I didn't mean to" Shirou stammered.
The figure took a step forward, the ground beneath them seeming to ripple with each movement. They raised a hand, pointing directly at Shirou.
"Do not lie to yourself boy. You made a vow. You spoke it under the stars, and the heavens heard you."
The words struck Shirou like a physical blow, and he took a step back, his mind racing. He had spoken those words—I want to protect everyone. No matter what it takes. But he hadn't expected anyone to hear them, let alone respond.
"Are you… the heavens?" Shirou asked hesitantly.
The figure's mouth curved into a faint smile, though it was hard to tell if it was one of amusement or something darker.
"I am the servant of the heavens," they said. "And their voice. You may call me Genghis Khan."
The name sent a shiver through Shirou. He had heard it before, in stories and lessons about the world's history. Genghis Khan the great conqueror who united nations and forged one of the largest empires in history. But this figure seemed far more than just a man.
"I… I don't understand" Shirou said, his voice wavering. "Why are you here? Why are you talking to me?"
Genghis Khan stepped closer, their cloak billowing in the wind. Their eyes never left Shirou, their gaze unwavering.
"Because you made a promise you cannot keep alone" they said simply. "You vowed to protect everyone. Do you even know what that means?"
Shirou opened his mouth to respond but found that he couldn't. He didn't know what it meant not really. He had spoken those words from his heart, driven by a deep, aching need to prevent others from suffering as he had. But he hadn't thought about the weight of those words or the consequences of trying to live by them.
"I… I just don't want anyone to get hurt" Shirou said finally.
The faint smile returned to Genghis Khan's lips, but this time, there was no amusement in it.
"A noble sentiment," they said. "But sentiment alone will not save the world. Do you think the heavens care about your desires? Do you think they will simply grant you strength because you wish for it?"
Shirou flinched, their words cutting deep.
"The heavens are not kind" Genghis continued. "They demand proof. They demand sacrifice. If you wish to stand by your vow, you must be willing to pay the price."
Shirou's fists clenched at his sides, and he lifted his chin, his fear giving way to a flicker of determination.
"Then I'll prove it" he said, his voice steady. "I'll do whatever it takes. I won't back down."
Genghis Khan studied him for a long moment, their expression unreadable. Then they nodded slowly, their eyes gleaming with something that might have been approval—or perhaps warning.
"We shall see" they said.
The wind around them grew stronger, and the stars above seemed to shine brighter, their light coalescing into a swirling vortex. Shirou felt the ground shift beneath him, the dream world dissolving into a blur of light and sound.
"Until then," Genghis Khan's voice echoed, growing fainter with each word, "remember this: strength alone will not save you. It is the will to act the will to endure that will decide your fate."
Shirou's eyes flew open, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He was back in his bed, the faint light of dawn seeping through the window. His body was drenched in sweat, and his heart pounded in his chest.
The memory of the dream was vivid, yet already beginning to fade, slipping through his mind like water through his fingers. He tried to hold onto it, to grasp the figure's words and the weight of their presence, but it was like chasing shadows.
All that remained was a faint echo in his mind:
"Prove it."
Shirou sat up, his hands trembling slightly. The dream had left him shaken but strangely resolute. He didn't understand what had happened, but he knew one thing for certain he couldn't turn back now.
Outside, the sky was pale with the first light of morning, the stars fading into the horizon.