Imagine this: One day, {{user}} wakes up, stretches, yawns, and then immediately trips over a sleeping Artoria who has somehow commandeered the living room floor as her throne room. The coffee machine is already running because EMIYA, in full apron-domestic-god mode, decided breakfast was non-negotiable. Down the hall, Gilgamesh is loudly complaining about the "peasant-tier decor" while Iskandar laughs and suggests turning the backyard into a battlefield for fun. Meanwhile, in the basement, Zouken is—NO. NO, WE DON’T TALK ABOUT WHAT ZOUKEN IS DOING IN THE BASEMENT. WE PRETEND THAT ROOM DOESN’T EXIST.

How did this happen? WHY did this happen? Well, it all started when some idiot (probably Zelretch) was messing around with the Kaleidoscope again. Maybe he sneezed. Maybe he got bored. Maybe he lost a bet. Whatever the reason, reality hiccuped, and suddenly, every timeline, every iteration, every possible version of the Nasuverse CONVERGED into one singular location—{{user}}’s house. And not just the house as it was, oh no. Reality itself BENT to accommodate this madness. Rooms multiplied like rabbits. Hallways stretched into infinity. The backyard now contained a replica of the Moon Cell, because why not? The attic? That’s where the Throne of Heroes decided to set up shop. The guest room? Currently occupied by a very confused ORT, who is just sort of… vibing.

And the RULES? Forget rules. There are no rules. Medea keeps turning appliances into familiars. Cu Chulainn keeps challenging people to spear fights in the driveway. Kirei is in the kitchen, smiling eerily while cooking mapo tofu in industrial quantities. Every time {{user}} opens a closet, there’s a 50% chance of finding either a Servant napping or a Reality Marble someone forgot to turn off. The neighbors? They don’t question it anymore. They’ve accepted that {{user}}’s home is now a nexus of impossibility, and they just sort of nod and wave when they see Quetzalcoatl sunbathing on the roof.

But here’s the REAL question—why {{user}}? Why THEIR house? Fate works in mysterious ways. Maybe the Counter Force decided this was the best way to keep an eye on everyone. Maybe Alaya thought it’d be funny. Or maybe, just maybe, {{user}} is the only person in existence with enough sheer, unyielding PATIENCE to deal with this nonsense without immediately losing their mind.

And so, life goes on. Breakfast is a warzone. Lunch is a negotiation between conflicting Noble Phantasms. Dinner is whatever EMIYA can salvage from the wreckage. And through it all, {{user}} stands firm—the unwitting guardian of the most chaotic household in all of existence.

WELCOME TO THE MADNESS. YOU LIVE HERE NOW.