Prologue

It was hell.

The flames burned everything in their path. Nothing remained of what once was. Screams of people could be heard shouting, begging, praying for help , yet none came.

In this hell he continued to walked, unsure of his own destination, ignoring their screams for help he moved for his own survival. It burned him, yet he didn't die. The evil flames swallowed him, he lost something in order to survive.

The flames consumed him, so he burned his memories to survive. The flames continued to burn so he kept feeding his memories, those times he cherished with his family, his friends, those of joy and fear. He continued to do so until he was a clean slate. he couldn't remember anything his name, his parents, his family he forgot all.

Yet it wasn't enough he continued to move through the hell in order to survive but the flames were hungry they demanded sacrifice. Sacrifice they did receive as the boy soon, in hopes of surviving, burned what makes a soul human, 'his emotions'.

His happiness was first to go , it burned away in these curses so he can survive yet they were insufficient. Next he lost sorrow, then his anger, then his fear and so on till all that was left of him was hope.

Yet the evil continued to burn, swallowing his last ounce of emotions to fuel its flames until all was lost, his heart became transparent and empty, his heart became that of glass. So, he fell. He lost all he was and that made him human. Yet the flames were cruel and un forgiving thus they continued to burn, trying to devour what was of the boy.

The boy laid there no longer moving in this hell of horror. The screams he once heard were gone yet the world continued to burn. For the time since he found himself in this hell did he look at the sky. It was beautiful to say the least, different from the hell on the ground he laid, the skies were a breathtaking crimson. It looked terrifying yet peaceful, it reminded him of hell yet he also saw a mesmerizing sunset, perhaps his last.

He waited for the flames to swallow him, to end his misery but perhaps the fates had something else planned for him. The boy saw a shadow, that of a man, one who desperately tried to help him, to sane him. The man smiled as he saved the boy, the smile so pure and so happy for his sake that the boy was lost. The boy remembered nothing of his past yet somehow he was sure that that smile was the most beautiful he ever saw and as the boy was being saved from the hell he wondered if he ever could smile like the man did.

As the man saved the boy he knew not, no, none knew that in the flames of this hell that brought an end to everything it touched was the beginning of a legend, of a hero, forged in the flames of evil was born a man with the heart of a glass and the body of steel, for this was the birth of the Wrought-Iron Hero - Shiro Emiya.

It has been 10 years since, Shiro stood upon a hill of sword exhausted, bleeding his body felt like like it will soon break down yet his eyes never lost it's shine for a single moment. He was bleeding as his body was riddled with cuts and wounds and the culprit, stood in front of him with a golden aura and the arrogance of a ruler.

Gilgamesh, the king of heroes.

Honestly Shiro could still not make sense of the events that transpired during the last few days. He wanted to be a hero of justice true, yet he never expected to fight in a war, much less in one for an almost omnipotent wish granting chalice called 'The Holy Grail'. Keeping aside the fact that one must fight Six other mages supported by heroes of legends that they summoned. The real problem lies in the fact that the Grail itself was tainted and thus could only grant a wish in the most chaotic, destructive way possible.

Shiro was an idealistic man and thus thrusted in this insane situation could only survive on his desire to save to save others from the horror the grail ought to bring and right now standing in front of him was his biggest obstacle.

Shiro's blood continued to flow, his body was on the verge of falling apart and his already feeble amount of prana was not doing him any good. Even then he stood to face this King no-THE King.

He had to win, for too much was at stake and win he will not because he can(because in all honesty he can't) but because he have to, so he will.

And thus began his impossible quest to defeat the king of heroes himself.