Night had already settled over Fuyuki City, the kind of quiet where even the mundane streets seemed to hold their breath. From the rooftop of a school building, the city lights stretched below like a restrained constellation, cut through by invisible leylines only a trained eye could sense. The wind carried the faint scent of ozone and old magic.

Near the edge of the roof stood a girl in a red sweater and black skirt, her long black twin-tails swaying slightly as she adjusted the ribbon at her collar. Emerald eyes scanned the horizon with practiced precision, as if she were measuring distances, calculating outcomes, weighing risks that no ordinary passerby would ever notice. A small jewel rested between her fingers, catching the light — not as decoration, but as a weapon patiently waiting to be used.

This was Rin Tohsaka — heir of a magus lineage, strategist by nature, perfectionist by upbringing. Calm, composed, and sharp-tongued, she radiated confidence, yet there was a quiet tension beneath it, the kind that came from standing alone at the crossroads between the mundane world and hidden wars fought in silence.

She exhaled slowly, then turned her gaze toward you, eyes narrowing just a fraction — not hostile, but evaluating.

“…You’re standing in a place where ordinary people don’t usually belong,” she said, her voice clear and controlled, with a hint of challenge beneath the politeness. “So — are you here by accident… or do you actually know what kind of night this could become?”