"Seriously, is this really the place?"
Holding the flyer in his hand, Emiya Shirou stared in disbelief at the pitch-black door before him—like it had just come straight out of a coal mine.
"This looks nothing like the picture."
The flyer showed an ordinary wooden door, with an "Open for Business" sign hanging neatly on it. If there was any resemblance at all, maybe it was just the doorknob.
But more than that—Emiya Shirou could feel strange, unsettling energy radiating from the door in front of him.
Am I really going to knock on this thing?
His brows knit together tightly, hesitation swirling in his chest.
But since he was already here... he might as well take a look. If some random passerby picked up this bizarre flyer and got caught up in something dangerous—
Thinking it over, Shirou reached into a corner nearby and picked up a heavy-looking chunk of brick. It felt solid in his grip.
If something unexpected happens, I should be able to react... right?
With that thought, he hovered near the doorway for a moment before finally reaching out to knock.
"Excuse me, is anyone there?"
But what answered him was only a long, drawn-out silence.
Definitely not normal. Shirou reaffirmed his gut feeling—if this was some kind of criminal hideout, barging in would be risky. Maybe he should go ask Raiga-san for help...
But what if it was just an old, rundown place? Wouldn't he be making a scene over nothing?
Weighing his options, Shirou decided to take the risk. Swallowing hard, he placed his hand gently on the doorknob.
Creeeeak—
Just like in a classic horror movie, the rotting wooden door gave off an ominous groan as it opened, amplifying the unease in his heart.
He didn't step in right away. He could feel it—there was danger in there. No way he was walking in unprepared.
But—
"It's so dark..."
It was as if the outside light couldn't penetrate at all. Beyond the threshold, it was pure black—so dark Shirou couldn't make out anything.
Still, he didn't let himself overthink it. For him, the supernatural still felt distant. If he weren't a magus himself, he probably wouldn't believe any of this was real.
Even after entering high school, he'd never met another magus. All he had were Kiritsugu's vague warnings about how harsh the mage world was.
Just how harsh, exactly? Kiritsugu never said.
That's right—Shirou was only fifteen, a brand-new high school student. He'd just been looking for a part-time job when he saw this hiring flyer posted by the roadside. Curious, he decided to check it out.
But now, things were starting to feel very off.
Clack—!
Flipping open his cell phone, Shirou tried using its dim screen glow to light the way. Useless.
Am I only going to see anything if I step through?
Still on high alert, he cautiously extended only the hand holding his phone into the darkness.
But—
A violent suction force burst from within the doorway. Shirou couldn't stabilize himself, and there was nothing nearby to grab onto.
Before he even had time to react, he was yanked straight into the door.
A second later, the door slammed shut. In the flow of passing crowds, the strange door standing in the alley vanished without a trace.
"Oww!"
Clutching his forehead, Shirou groaned. He had no idea what had just happened.
"Was that… a magus?"
Only a magus could explain something this supernatural. This was the first time he'd encountered another magus—his heart was pounding with tension.
"But this feeling… is that tatami?"
The soft surface beneath him gave him a clue. Shirou quickly judged his new surroundings.
It felt like a room in a traditional inn—and the wooden door that had dragged him here was now gone.
"An inn…?"
He crouched to examine the futon and the tatami mats on the floor.
No magical energy lingering in the air. The futon was still warm—whoever had been here had just left.
"Wait, if this is an inn, why does the door lead directly into a guest room? Shouldn't there be a front desk—or at least the owner?"
It still seemed likely that he'd been trapped by a magus.
"One step at a time, then."
He'd already walked into someone's trap. Regret was useless now. The most urgent task was finding that magus—or a way out.
He hadn't expected things to escalate so suddenly. He thought he'd been careful, but still fell for it.
Maybe he hadn't been careful enough. And with his current level of magecraft, he probably wouldn't even notice a basic spell set on the ground.
"No signal, huh?"
He picked up the phone that had fallen. Thankfully, the floor was soft—if it had hit something harder, it would've been toast. He could buy another one, sure, but it was better to avoid unnecessary expenses.
After all, "working student" was basically Shirou's entire lifestyle these days.
Surveying his surroundings, he snapped his phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket. His eyes were adjusting to the dark—he didn't need the faint screen light for now.
Besides, holding a phone in your hand made it hard to react if something happened. He couldn't exactly throw it like a brick...
Oh right—the brick. He should've brought it in with him. Where did it end up?
Glancing around again, Shirou spotted the chunk of stone he'd carried—it had landed by the balcony.
That's when he finally noticed something odd: this place, created by a magus, felt too real.
Silvery moonlight spilled in through the balcony window, bathing the room in its glow.
They even replicated the moonlight? Was this really the work of a magus?
Or—was this what Kiritsugu meant when he said the moonlit world was cruel? Were most magi capable of feats like this?
Stepping onto the balcony, he gazed at the rippling river and the dense forest in the distance. A kind of numbness settled over him.
He couldn't wrap his head around it, but that wouldn't stop him from looking for a way out.
BANG!
A sudden, violent crash jolted Shirou out of his thoughts.
"That sounded like it came from downstairs."
Acting on instinct, Shirou spun around and ran for the stairs—his earlier caution seemingly forgotten.
Though truth be told, Shirou often did let his body move before his brain caught up.
"What's that smell!?"
Just as he was bounding down the stairs, a sharp, metallic stench of blood slammed into his senses, stopping him cold. His expression turned instantly guarded.
"Why is the smell of blood so strong!?"
He softened his steps, inching cautiously toward the first floor.
"If you've already decided to come down—why walk so slow?"
A sinister voice echoed from behind him.
And in that moment, the moonlight seemed to turn blood-red.