Initial Analysis

Sokovia, Novi Grad

March 1, 1998 08:45 AM

Language: [Slovak], (Japanese), English

It had been a few days since Shirou first woke up. In spite of his best efforts, the family had kept their word. Shirou wasn't allowed to help out around the house until he got better. The boy spent most of his time resting alone with his thoughts. The parents were busy with their own duties, and the twins had their own school lessons and chores.

Perhaps he had been pushing a particular task long enough. On his bed, Shirou looked down at his body. 'I need to know what happened.' The magus got into a cross-legged seating position and closed his eyes. A whisper escaped his lips as he focused. "Trace on." In an instant, blue circuit-like lines spread throughout his body. In his mind, a blueprint of his body formed. Shirou had to stop halfway into processing the information. It had become apparent that both his body been reverted to back when he first started his magecraft training.

Growing up, Shirou believed that he had to make a new Circuit every time he wanted to perform Magecraft. Over time, he temporarily converted parts of his nerves into makeshift Magic Circuits. He was later informed by Rin that it was almost suicide. Failure would result in his body breaking down from the inside out. Even when it worked, he felt pain like a hot iron rod into the spine. It didn't help that when his natural-born Circuits were finally opened, his nervous system went haywire. Suffice to say, Shirou was given a talking to regarding his subconscious reasons and actions during his previous sessions with Doctor Curtiss.

Practically all of his permanent nerve and cell damage was gone, explaining his skin and eyes returning to normal. While this was some good news, there was a problem. His current body seemed to have a gap in its history. There was nothing to know between his stay at the hospital and his time in this country. Shirou wasn't sure how to respond to that.

He could only assume that higher powers were at work. Shirou had never offered to become a Counter Guardian to Alaya as his other self did. It's possible that with the change in history, a different entity decided to affect his life. Shirou let out a sigh before falling back into bed. 'I have no idea what's going on, but I really hope this doesn't blow up in my face.'

Later

When Shirou could walk without wincing from his bruises, he could finally explore his current residence more. Moving to the living room, a folded newspaper on the couch caught his eye. Perhaps if he understood current events, he could better comprehend what the heck happened. Sadly for him, he spent most of his later life in the Middle East. Eastern Europe was something else, and he clearly wasn't seeing English on most of the books around the house.

For now, he would have to work with pictures and numbers. His eyes went over the first few lines of the paper. After reading it once, he double-backed and read it again. The paper was recent, but the date in the corner read MAREC 1, 1998. 'That's… not right.' Considering it a typo, Shirou scanned the front article. The image was of a group of people with all sorts of objects in hand gathered around some sort of smoking office building. The rest of the paper wasn't much help. Shirou frowned at a picture of weapon crates being brought into the neighboring countries. He didn't recognize the label of the presumably American company named STARK INDUSTRIES.

Footsteps grew behind him with the mother walking in with some gardening equipment. "Good morning, Shirou."

He bowed to her. "Good morning, Mrs. Maximoff."

The woman smiled at the boy. "Please. Call me Iryna"

"Sorry." Shirou wasn't used to current customs. Back in Japan, they mostly refer to elders by their family names. "Heading out?"

She nodded. "It's time to pull the weeds again. With the way things are going, it's best to have some of our own food on hand."

Glancing back at the newspaper image, he agreed. "Can I help?"

Iryna blinked at the question. Most of the time, Wanda and Pietro would give a weak excuse to avoid the chore. "Are you sure? How do you feel? I don't want you to overexert yourself."

Shirou clenched his arm and tensed his legs to get a feel. Other than slight tenderness in some areas, he seemed okay. "I'm better. I've been staying with you all for a while now, and I don't want to be a burden." With what he's inferred of the outside world, the local government and, in turn, social services would not be very helpful to him in this vulnerable state.

Iryna's eyes widened at the statement. "Who told you that?"

He rubbed the back of his head. "...Pietro joked about it a few times, but he's not wrong that I should have done more." Shirou's face grew an uncomfortable expression. A familiar feeling in his stomach was forming. Old habits die hard.

The mother's eyes softened and kneeled to his level. "There's no need to worry, Shirou. The children shouldn't be working like adults. They should be learning and experiencing life." She stood up and gathered some tools. "However, you have been in the house for a long enough. Fresh air will do you good." She handed Shirou two potted sprouts she bought from a friend, and the two made their way out.

Shirou's first thought when seeing their garden was small yet simple. Only a small portion of the ground had been tilled for use. The surrounding ground was still dry and covered in stray rocks.

Iryna put down her things and turned back to the boy. "I'll be right back with more sprouts." She handed him an aged trowel. "Go ahead and start preparing some holes for them."

Shirou stared at the tool with hesitation before taking a hold of it. "No problem." As she walked away, Shirou focused back on the trowel. He had once again had the familiar feeling of an item being copied into his Reality Marble. It had been so long since its last deployment that he wasn't sure if it was still the same on the inside. As the representation of one's inner world, many factors influenced it. Still, there was one surefire way to get the answer he needed.

Much like before, Shirou closed his eyes and focused on the tool in his hands. While only so much information can be gathered by sight alone, having the item in hand allowed for multiple senses to be used in the process. The copies of the kitchen knives from the house are an example of using just sight.

'Judging the concept of creation.' It is a simple tool, but it is used for breaking up earth, digging small holes, and transferring plants to pots.

'Hypothesizing the basic structure.' It is a hand tool with a pointed, scoop-shaped metal blade and wooden handle. It is similar to a shovel, but is much smaller, being designed for one hand.

'Duplicating the composition material.' It was not the purest of steel, but the iron was first mined in neighboring Slovakia.

'Imitating the skill of its making.' The trowel was forged during the Second World War among many others during Soviet occupation against Nazi and Hydra Forces. The original crafter did not aim for perfection but for function. So long as the intended use would be fulfilled, it was marked as complete.

'Sympathizing with the experience of its growth.'

'Reproducing the accumulated years.'

'Excelling every manufacturing process.'

It was first purchased by a friend of Iryna's mother, being used to attend her own home. Years of use would pass before it was given to Iryna's Mother as a hand-me-down. Her mother would continue using the tool before the area of her home seceded from Slovakia when the Soviet Union began to split apart, becoming Sokovia. Years would pass before the mother would be handed down to Iryna, being used to the present of 1998.

Within his Reality Marble, a virtually exact replica of the trowel was stored.

When the process finished, he let go of the tool, shocked still. From what he learned, Shirou was on an Earth with a country and history he never heard of in 1998. "...Fuck!"

"Shirou!" The boy whipped in the direction of the now returned mother. "Who taught you to say that? Don't make me bring out the soap."

The magus hung his head in resignation. 'Damn E-Rank luck.'

Meanwhile From a Different Part of Reality

A man in a Victorian lab coat beamed in glee. "A human with two pocket dimensions tethered to his very being. This is simply grand."

Next to him, the Watcher sighed. "I suppose that answers my question about you being responsible."

A third voice coughed to get their attention. "Ahem." The two turned to see another watcher but with a darker complexion. "Two things. One. What are you doing in my corner of the Multiverse? Two. Who is he?" The newcomer gestured to the Professor.

"I'm just investigating a disturbance from outside of origin point 199999." The first Watcher rubbed his temples. "As for the other, he's just a visitor. Don't worry. I'm keeping an eye on him."

The New Watcher deadpanned. "Sure… It's already enough I have to deal with Kang and his 'Sacred Timeline.' Now I have more outside entities coming in."

"Your Kang has a Sacred Timeline?" questioned Paradox.

The New Watcher waved the issue off. "There was a bit of a Multiversal War, and one version decided to destroy them all except one that he's in charge of to prevent another war." He shrugged. "It was destined to fail, really. No matter how many timelines he tries to erase, his organization, the TVA he calls it, is still finite. The timelines will continue to split off at infinite points. That's why the branch we're in even exists at all. It's madness sometimes."

"I have had my fair share of multiversal destruction," shared Paradox. "Fortunately for me and my friends, we were able to reboot it back to normal."

The previous Watcher nodded. "From the Nexus of All realities, we experience the multiverse on a higher plane of causality. Not even your Kang understands the bigger picture like we three do. In any case, we'll take our leave."

The tanned Watcher nodded before speaking up again. "Before you go, keep an eye out for origin point 616. It's getting really weird over there lately."

Little did they know a Jackle-shaped inter-dimensional imp watched them from an even higher plane of existence, chuckling with giddiness.