After dealing with those delinquents, Shirou Emiya hadn't noticed anything particularly strange.
That delinquent's disappearance wasn't like Jack the Ripper's [Information Erasure], where memories were forcibly carved out of your mind, leaving behind a sense that something vital was missing.
With Jack, you might recall you had fought someone, yet the details—their appearance, name, or abilities—would vanish completely, as if that segment of memory had been crudely cut away. Cameras could still record Jack's actions, although any observer would quickly forget again after viewing the footage.
But this delinquent's disappearance was fundamentally different—more sophisticated, subtler.
Rather than forcibly removing himself from memory, it was as if he'd faded naturally. Even the memories of those who knew him automatically adjusted, seamlessly filling in gaps to create logical continuity.
Even records made about him would fade away. His very existence—his body and anything connected to him—vanished completely.
No matter how carefully you'd observed or documented him, no matter how intricately coded your notes, they would dissolve into nothingness, leaving no trace behind.
He didn't merely vanish from memory—he was replaced by logically coherent memories that left no hint of suspicion.
Even upon careful reflection, you'd find no lingering impression of a missing conversation. There weren't just gaps; they were automatically, perfectly repaired.
Even if eighty percent of your memories involved that person, their disappearance wouldn't leave your mind disordered; you'd simply lose all influence they'd ever had on you.
It was similar to being devoured by the White Whale in Re:Zero, erased completely from existence. But unlike the White Whale's instant erasure, here the loss happened gradually. People slowly faded from consciousness until eventually, their existence disappeared entirely, forgotten by everyone.
No matter how excellent one's memory, no one could retain memories of individuals whose existence continuously faded.
Shirou Emiya's observation skills were undeniably remarkable; he did notice people whose presence was thin, practically ignored by everyone else.
Because these individuals hadn't entirely disappeared—rather, their existence was so faint that people hardly recognized them. They could still be seen, still be physically touched.
Yet soon enough, even this faint memory of them vanished completely.
Just as it was now for Shirou Emiya himself. Earlier, he'd focused intensely on observing one such faint presence—even following that barely perceptible person through the city.
But the outcome had been predictable.
Shirou completely forgot everything. It wasn't that he couldn't remember—it was that those people never existed in his memory in the first place.
Had Shirou been an ordinary person, someone originally from this world, he'd probably never have noticed anything odd.
But precisely because Shirou was not of this world, he sensed something distinctly wrong in the city.
Precisely because Shirou wasn't ordinary—because he possessed unusual powers and had encountered countless supernatural phenomena—he now doubted his own memories.
Normal people didn't question their memories, nor would they believe people could vanish spontaneously.
But Shirou had experienced enough bizarre events to believe something this impossible, something beyond scientific reasoning.
Even after losing those memories, once Shirou stepped back onto the street, he still perceived the presence of those unnoticed individuals.
For reasons unknown, some being—some force—had caused a significant number of people with faint existences to appear within this city.
That's why Shirou could easily spot them.
But history repeated itself endlessly, yet never in exactly the same way.
They're not human…?
Shirou stood frozen in place, stunned by his own revelation.
He'd once considered using [Reinforcement Magecraft] to enhance a human body, to push the limits of his magic further—but he'd never managed it.
His [Reinforcement Magecraft] had remained confined strictly to strengthening inanimate objects.
Even his [Projection Magecraft] had only ever been capable of producing ordinary items. The warehouse at Emiya residence was full of common things he'd projected as practice—kitchen utensils and tableware. Shirou had even wondered if he could project living beings, like birds in flight, but in the end, he'd discovered it impossible.
Yet now, Shirou realized that he'd successfully projected the faint-presence person standing right before him.
He couldn't project living creatures.
Therefore, the conclusion was obvious.
These barely-noticeable people wandering the streets weren't human. In fact, they weren't even living creatures.
They were objects—or manifestations of some mysterious force—but certainly not human.
Shirou felt deeply shaken, even frightened, by the implication of his conclusion.
After all, there weren't just a few of these beings in the city. Though they didn't constitute a majority, their numbers were still considerable. He'd spotted over ten just walking down one street.
Naturally, Shirou didn't recall exactly how many he'd encountered earlier; he'd already forgotten.
Each time he saw these faint existences, Shirou recalled the eerie feeling, only to forget again once he'd moved on. Caught in this endless cycle, he'd finally realized these unnoticed beings weren't human at all.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
A distant ringing echoed behind Shirou.
Turning around, he saw an ordinary school building. Without realizing it, he'd somehow wandered in front of a school.
Aside from the ringing bells, nothing appeared unusual.
"[Trace—On]!"
Without a moment's hesitation, the instant he felt danger prickling up his spine, Shirou summoned a chained sword into his hand. On that open street, armor instantly materialized, covering his body entirely.
Before Shirou could pinpoint where the danger was coming from, the world itself became engulfed in flames.
Everything froze in place.
Passersby stood motionless, locked forever in mid-step.
Shirou, now fully armored, stood frozen at the school gate, just like the immobilized pedestrians around him. He couldn't move, couldn't even think. It was as if he'd been encased in Esdeath's ice—robbed of movement, stripped entirely of sensation and thought.