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# Cosmic Café: Meals for the Lazy God
## Chapter 1: The End of Everything
The remnants of Universe 6 rippled around Viyrim, God of Destruction. Atoms stretched and tore across the vast emptiness that once contained trillions of stars, planets, and civilizations. Now, all that remained were fading echoes of existence and cosmic dust that sparkled in his peripheral vision.
Viyrim floated amid this self-made void, his lavender skin unmoved by the dying radiation of a collapsing reality. His eyes, covered by an ornate blindfold of midnight blue silk embroidered with ancient symbols, saw everything and nothing at once. Though he wore the blindfold as an affectation—a reminder of his early days as a fledgling deity when power had overwhelmed his senses—he had long since mastered his divine perception.
"That was disappointing," he muttered, voice carrying through the vacuum as if physics held no dominion over his speech. "I expected more from a being calling itself 'The Cosmic Devourer.'" He brushed nonexistent dust from his flowing obsidian robes, adorned with patterns that shifted like living constellations.
His long purple hair drifted around his shoulders, defying gravitational laws that no longer existed in this shattered universe. He stretched, the motion radiating enough power to send ripples through the dimensional fabric.
"Vados," he called, his tone carrying the boredom of a god who had seen everything worth seeing. "Vados, where are you? I've finished here."
A shimmering light manifested beside him, coalescing into the form of his attendant. Vados stood tall and slender, her teal skin complementing her elaborate white and green robes. Her scepter, topped with a floating orb, emitted a gentle glow that seemed to push back against the encroaching void.
"My lord," she greeted him with a precise bow, her white hair styled in an elaborate topknot that never seemed to move out of place. "I take it the 'Ultimate Battle at the Edge of Existence' has concluded?"
Viyrim snorted. "Ultimate disappointment, more like it. The Cosmic Devourer dissolved after three strikes." He rotated his shoulder idly. "I didn't even need to use my right hand."
Vados observed the disintegrating universe with clinical detachment. "That makes the ninth cosmic entity you've defeated this millennium, and the sixth universe you've reduced to elemental particles." She consulted a holographic display that materialized from her staff. "And you slept through the collapse of timelines 3, 7, 12, 18, 22, and 25."
"Were any of those important?" Viyrim asked, picking at his teeth with a fingernail that could rend galaxies.
"Timeline 7 contained several pantheons that had specifically evolved to challenge beings of your caliber," Vados informed him. "They had spent six billion years preparing for your arrival."
"Hmm. Pity I missed it. Probably would have been more interesting than this." Viyrim gestured vaguely at the remaining wisps of Universe 6. "Did they leave any good food behind at least?"
"I'm afraid not, my lord. Their civilizations collapsed when you failed to appear on the prophesied date."
"Not my fault if they couldn't keep their cosmos together without my presence," Viyrim said with a shrug that disintegrated a passing asteroid field. "What's next on the agenda? Please tell me there's someone worthy of my attention somewhere in the multiverse."
Vados scrolled through her holographic display. "I regret to inform you that most entities of note have either been defeated by you already, have gone into hiding, or exist in realms specifically designed to be inaccessible to beings of your nature."
Viyrim's face fell. "So there's nothing left? Nothing at all?"
"I wouldn't say 'nothing,' my lord." Vados closed the display with a graceful gesture. "But perhaps a change of focus might be beneficial. You've spent the last fifty thousand years challenging and defeating every powerful entity you could find. Perhaps it's time for... alternative pursuits?"
The God of Destruction floated in silence for several moments, his expression gradually shifting from disappointment to something more troubling. "Vados," he said slowly, "I think I'm experiencing a strange sensation."
"Ennui, my lord?"
"No, something worse." He placed a hand over his midsection. "It feels... hollow. Empty. Like something's missing."
"Ah," Vados nodded with understanding. "That would be boredom, Lord Viyrim."
"Boredom?" The concept seemed to genuinely perplex him. "Gods don't get bored. We're eternal. We're all-powerful. We're—"
"—currently floating in an empty void with nothing to destroy and no one to challenge," Vados completed for him. "Even eternal beings require stimulation, my lord."
Viyrim considered this, his expression darkening. "Well, fix it," he commanded petulantly. "That's what attendants are for, isn't it? Find me something interesting."
Vados tapped her staff gently against nothing, and multiple dimensional windows opened around them, each showing different realms, universes, and realities. "Perhaps I can suggest an alternative to combat, my lord?"
"Like what?" Viyrim asked suspiciously, eyeing the dimensional windows with mild interest.
"You've conquered through strength," Vados suggested. "You've destroyed with power. Perhaps it's time to... savor instead?"
"Savor? What do you mean?"
A small smile touched Vados's lips. "When was the last time you truly enjoyed a meal, Lord Viyrim?"
The God of Destruction blinked behind his blindfold. "I... can't remember."
"Precisely." Vados expanded one of the dimensional windows, showing a world teeming with humans, supernatural entities, and what appeared to be summoned heroes from mythology. "I've found something rather unique, my lord. A nexus of realities where history, mythology, and magic have created culinary traditions unlike any other multiversal cluster."
Despite himself, Viyrim leaned forward to examine the window more closely. "What is this place?"
"They call it the Nasuverse," Vados explained. "A conglomeration of interlinked realities where ancient heroes are summoned as spiritual entities, mages channel power through elaborate rituals, and gods walk among mortals in various guises."
"Sounds chaotic," Viyrim observed, watching as golden-armored figures battled in what appeared to be a modern city. "And conflicted. Are they at war?"
"Always," Vados confirmed. "They fight over artifacts of power, compete in mystical tournaments, and wage shadow wars across time and space." She paused, noting Viyrim's waning interest. "But more importantly, they have developed culinary arts that blend mana, mysticism, and mundane ingredients in ways I believe would intrigue even your refined palate."
This caught the god's attention. "Better than those crystallized star hearts from Universe 3?"
"Far more complex and varied," Vados assured him. "The Nasuverse contains cuisines from every era of human history, enhanced by magical energies and divine essences. Some dishes are said to grant temporary power or visions of alternate realities."
Viyrim's stomach growled audibly, the sound causing ripples in what remained of Universe 6's fabric. "Well," he said, trying to maintain his aloof demeanor, "I suppose I could investigate. For academic purposes."
"Of course, my lord." Vados concealed her satisfaction. "Shall I make arrangements?"
"Yes, but nothing complicated." Viyrim waved a hand dismissively. "I don't want their wars or politics or whatever petty grievances they're fighting over. I just want to sample their food."
"I understand completely." Vados closed all but the Nasuverse window. "And how would you prefer to interact with this realm? Shall I arrange for suitable accommodations? Perhaps a temple in your honor?"
Viyrim considered for a moment. "No, too formal. Too many expectations." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "What's that place they go to eat in mortal realms? Somewhere comfortable where food comes to you?"
"A restaurant, my lord?"
"Yes, that." Viyrim nodded decisively. "Make me one of those. Something simple but..." his voice took on a harsher tone, "...worthy of a God of Destruction."
"I know just the thing," Vados replied, her staff beginning to glow with concentrated power. "A café, I believe, would be most suitable. Small, intimate, yet flexible enough to accommodate your unique... requirements."
"A café," Viyrim tested the word, finding it satisfactory. "Yes. Make it so."
As Vados began weaving reality around them, Viyrim felt a flicker of something he hadn't experienced in millennia—anticipation. It wasn't the savage thrill of impending battle or the satisfaction of cosmic annihilation, but something subtler. Something almost... mortal.
"Vados," he said as Universe 6 finally disintegrated completely around them, "make sure there's comfortable seating. If I'm going to try this 'savoring' business, I want to do it properly."
"Of course, my lord. The most comfortable seating in all of existence."
And together, they departed from the void they'd created, leaving behind the remnants of Universe 6 to journey toward something neither destruction nor conquest, but perhaps equally satisfying.
A good meal.
---
## Chapter 2: A Café Where None Should Be
The empty lot between a convenience store and a bookshop in Fuyuki City had never particularly drawn attention. Nestled on a quiet side street that didn't quite connect to the main shopping district, it had remained undeveloped for reasons no city planner could adequately explain. The property records existed somewhere in municipal files, but anyone who investigated too deeply found themselves distracted by more pressing matters before they could reach any conclusions.
On a crisp autumn morning, the first oddity appeared—a "Coming Soon" sign in an elegant, flowing script that somehow looked both ancient and contemporary. Passersby noticed it, but found they couldn't quite remember what business was announced or when it would open. They simply walked on, the memory fading like morning mist.
Three days later, the transformation occurred. Between one heartbeat and the next, between a blink and a breath, the empty lot ceased to be empty. Where nothing had stood now rose an elegant structure that defied architectural norms and, in several subtle ways, the laws of physics.
The café—for it was unmistakably a café despite its unusual appearance—had a facade of dark wood and gleaming stone that seemed to absorb and reflect light in equal measure. Large windows revealed glimpses of an interior that appeared far more spacious than the building's exterior should allow. A discreet sign hung above the entrance, swinging gently in a breeze that affected nothing else on the street:
*"Destruction's Table"*
Below, in smaller lettering:
*"If you serve, you kneel. If you cook, you pray."*
And below that, in script so fine it required deliberate attention to read:
*"No currency accepted. Only entertainment, submission, or ingredients."*
The door opened precisely at noon, though no one witnessed it. Inside, reality had been carefully rearranged according to Vados's exacting standards and Viyrim's somewhat more capricious demands.
The interior contained a single long table that stretched toward a vanishing point that shouldn't have existed within the building's dimensions. At the head of this table sat Viyrim, God of Destruction, slouched in a throne-like chair with his sandaled feet propped irreverently on the polished surface. His blindfold remained in place, yet he surveyed his new domain with evident satisfaction.
"Not bad, Vados," he approved, running a finger along the table's edge. "Quite atmospheric. Reminds me of that cosmic dining hall in Universe 2, though hopefully with better food."
Vados stood at attention beside him, her staff planted firmly on the impossible floor. "Thank you, my lord. I've taken the liberty of creating a spatiotemporal anchor that will allow the café to materialize whenever and wherever you desire within this reality cluster."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, my lord, that your café will appear when you're hungry, where you wish it to be, without requiring you to maintain its existence through conscious effort."
Viyrim nodded appreciatively. "Efficient. And the menu?"
Vados gestured, and an elegant card materialized before him. "I've taken inspiration from local culinary traditions but adapted them to ingredients available throughout the Nasuverse. Of course, the menu will change depending on what I can procure on any given day."
"Procure?" Viyrim raised an eyebrow above his blindfold. "You mean steal?"
A slight smile touched Vados's lips. "I prefer 'divinely requisitioned,' my lord."
Viyrim laughed, the sound causing the windows to vibrate dangerously. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around all these eons." He examined the menu with interest. "Unicorn sirloin from Avalon? Fried demonic boar cutlets from the Age of Gods? Mana-infused pudding from something called the 'Moon Cell'? Ambitious selections, Vados."
"Only the finest for the God of Destruction," she replied with a slight bow. "I've also taken the liberty of creating appropriate attire for myself, as I'll be serving as chef, waitress, and if necessary, enforcer."
With a shimmer of light, Vados's usual attire transformed. While maintaining her dignified bearing, she now wore an elegant maid uniform in teal and white that complemented her skin tone, though her staff remained unchanged.
"Is this sufficiently 'atmospheric,' my lord?"
Viyrim considered her appearance, then nodded. "Adequately theatrical for a café, I suppose. Though I'm keeping my robes. All this talk of food has made me hungry. When can we expect our first customers? Or ingredients, as the case may be."
"The café's presence is already sending ripples through the local magical community," Vados informed him. "Its appearance has disrupted several ley lines and created what they would call 'a disturbance in the spiritual foundation of the city.' I anticipate visitors within hours—curious mages at minimum, possibly local spiritual authorities."
"Good." Viyrim settled more comfortably in his chair. "I'll have a nap until then. Wake me when there's food or entertainment."
"Of course, my lord." Vados bowed again. "Pleasant dreams of destruction."
As the God of Destruction dozed, the café waited, a cosmic anomaly nestled between mundane buildings, its very existence a challenge to the established order of the Nasuverse. Outside, the sign swung in its impossible breeze, the words shifting subtly for each passerby, always somehow conveying exactly what would intrigue them most.
Destruction's Table was open for business.
---
## Chapter 3: The First Guest
Shirou Emiya had never intended to discover the café. His morning routine was as fixed as his sense of justice—wake before dawn, train in his makeshift dojo, prepare breakfast for himself and often Sakura when she arrived early, then take a brief run before school. It was during this run, turning down an unfamiliar side street to avoid construction, that he first saw Destruction's Table.
He slowed to a stop, breath forming small clouds in the autumn air as he stared at the establishment that surely couldn't have been there yesterday. As a participant in the Holy Grail War and an amateur mage, Shirou had developed instincts for the supernatural, and everything about this café screamed danger to those senses.
"I should report this to Tohsaka," he muttered to himself, already reaching for his phone. Yet something stopped him—a tantalizing aroma drifting from the café, carrying hints of spices he couldn't identify and flavors he couldn't name.
As a self-taught chef with an appreciation for culinary arts, Shirou found himself drawn forward against his better judgment. The scent called to him on some primal level, bypassing rational thought and appealing directly to both his hunger and his curiosity.
Before he could reconsider, his hand was on the ornate door handle, and it turned with surprising ease.
The interior was nothing like he expected. The impossible space stretched before him, the long table extending farther than the building's dimensions should have allowed. The air felt heavy with power, reminding him of standing near Saber when she unleashed her Noble Phantasm, but somehow even more concentrated.
At the far end of the table sat a figure that made Shirou freeze in place. Every instinct screamed danger, his body tensing as if preparing to manifest his Reality Marble despite knowing he stood no chance against whatever this being was. The lounging figure radiated power on a level Shirou had never encountered—not from Servants, not from True Ancestors, not even from manifestations of the Holy Grail itself.
"Um, hello?" he offered, his voice sounding small in the vast space.
The blindfolded figure didn't move, continuing to recline with feet on the table. "Vados," it called in a voice that seemed to bypass Shirou's ears and vibrate directly in his mind, "there's a human in my café. Why is there a human in my café?"
From nowhere, a teal-skinned woman appeared, her staff striking the floor with a sound that sent shivers down Shirou's spine. Despite her maid-like attire, everything about her bearing suggested power far beyond mortal comprehension.
"My apologies, Lord Viyrim," she said with perfect poise. "It seems our first guest has arrived before I could properly stock our pantry."
The woman—Vados, Shirou presumed—turned to him with a smile that was professionally courteous yet held something predatory beneath the surface. "Welcome to Destruction's Table, young mage. You are our very first visitor."
"I... I didn't mean to intrude," Shirou stammered, fighting the urge to back away. "I was just curious about the café. It wasn't here yesterday."
"Indeed it wasn't," Vados agreed pleasantly. "It exists when Lord Viyrim wishes it to exist, where he wishes it to be. A minor miracle of spatiotemporal manipulation."
The blindfolded figure—Lord Viyrim—stirred, lifting his head slightly to face Shirou's direction. "He smells of metal and magic," he observed, sniffing the air. "And mediocrity."
"I'm standing right here," Shirou protested before he could stop himself.
To his surprise, Viyrim laughed, a sound like distant thunder. "The human has spirit at least. What's your name, little mage?"
"Shirou. Shirou Emiya."
"Shirou Emiya," Viyrim repeated, as if tasting the name. "Tell me, Shirou Emiya, what brings you to my café besides misplaced curiosity and a death wish?"
Shirou hesitated, unsure how to respond. The truth seemed safest. "The smell. Whatever's cooking here... I've never smelled anything like it."
This appeared to please Viyrim, who sat up straighter. "Ah, a gourmand! How interesting. Vados, what exactly is the human smelling? I thought we hadn't prepared anything yet."
"We haven't, my lord," Vados confirmed. "What he perceives is merely the ambient aura of your divine energy interacting with this reality. To mortal senses, it sometimes manifests as enticing aromas or sounds, drawing them closer like moths to flame."
"So I smell delicious? How amusing." Viyrim tilted his head, considering Shirou with renewed interest. "Vados tells me this realm has unique culinary traditions. Are you knowledgeable about such things, Shirou Emiya?"
Put on somewhat familiar ground, Shirou found his confidence returning slightly. "I cook," he said modestly. "I've been teaching myself for years."
"A chef!" Viyrim's interest was clearly piqued now. "Perhaps this encounter is fortuitous after all. Vados needs ingredients before she can prepare my first meal in this realm. Perhaps you could be useful."
"Ingredients?" Shirou asked warily.
"Indeed," Vados interjected smoothly. "Lord Viyrim is new to your world and wishes to sample its unique flavors. Any assistance you could provide would be... appreciated."
Something in her tone suggested that refusal might not end well for him, but Shirou's inherent desire to help others automatically engaged before caution could intervene. "I guess I could show you what ingredients are available locally. There's a good market not far from here."
Viyrim waved a hand dismissively. "Mundane ingredients are Vados's concern. I seek something more... significant." He leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, little mage, what is the most potent, magically-infused food in this reality?"
Shirou hesitated. "I'm not sure I understand..."
"Let me clarify," Vados offered. "Lord Viyrim is interested in foods with mystical properties. Ingredients enhanced by mana, dishes prepared with magical techniques, or sustenance with supernatural origins."
Understanding dawned on Shirou's face. "You mean like the food in the Einzbern Castle? Or the fruits from Ryuudou Temple's sacred trees?"
Viyrim's expression brightened. "Yes, exactly like that! You do understand." He gestured expansively. "Bring me these mystical delicacies, Shirou Emiya, and I shall consider it adequate payment for trespassing in my establishment."
Shirou frowned. "I can't just take sacred fruit or steal from the Einzberns."
"Why not?" Viyrim seemed genuinely puzzled.
"Because it would be wrong. Those things belong to others."
Viyrim considered this argument with exaggerated deliberation, then shrugged. "Boring morality. Very well, what can you offer then? The sign clearly states: no currency accepted, only entertainment, submission, or ingredients."
Shirou glanced back at the entrance, confirming the sign's existence. "I could... cook something for you myself? With regular ingredients but prepared with care?"
Vados looked to Viyrim, who seemed to be weighing the offer. Finally, he nodded. "Acceptable as a first tribute. Vados will provide a kitchen for you to work in. Show me what passes for culinary skill among the mages of this realm."
With a tap of her staff, Vados created a fully-equipped kitchen space adjacent to the main dining area. Modern appliances mixed with tools Shirou had never seen before, all arranged with perfect efficiency.
"I'll need to buy ingredients," Shirou said, moving to examine the kitchen with professional interest.
"No need," Vados replied, tapping her staff again. A selection of premium ingredients appeared on the counters—meats, vegetables, spices, and other components of exceptional quality. "Will these suffice?"
Shirou's eyes widened as he recognized several rare and expensive items. "These are... perfect. But I have school soon, and—"
"Time moves differently within this café," Vados informed him. "When you leave, you'll find that barely a moment has passed outside. Please, proceed at your leisure."
Still wary but increasingly intrigued, Shirou rolled up his sleeves. If he was going to cook for a self-proclaimed god, he would make it his best effort. As he began to work, he felt Viyrim's attention on him—an almost physical weight of divine scrutiny that should have been unnerving but instead pushed him to greater focus.
From his seat, Viyrim observed with growing interest. "Vados," he said quietly, "I believe we've found our first supplier."
"Indeed, my lord," she replied with a small smile. "And perhaps more than that. His magical signature suggests significant untapped potential."
"Cultivate him," Viyrim decided, settling back in his chair. "This realm may prove more entertaining than I anticipated."
As Shirou worked, unaware of the divine discussion concerning his future, the café's sign swung in its impossible breeze, and somewhere across Fuyuki, several individuals with magical sensitivity suddenly looked up, sensing a disturbance they couldn't quite identify.
The God of Destruction had made his first connection to the Nasuverse, and the ripples were only beginning to spread.
---
## Chapter 4: The Defender of Order Arrives
Rin Tohsaka prided herself on maintaining strict control over Fuyuki City's spiritual landscape. As the inheritor of one of the founding families who created the Holy Grail War ritual, she considered herself responsible for monitoring and addressing any magical anomalies that might threaten the careful balance of power in her territory.
So when she felt the distinct pulse of a foreign spiritual entity manifesting in the heart of her domain, her reaction was immediate. She abandoned her morning tea, donned her red coat, and prepared several jewels charged with offensive magic.
"Archer," she called, knowing her Servant could hear her regardless of where he was physically manifested, "there's an intruder. Something powerful has appeared on the western side of the city."
The white-haired Servant materialized beside her, arms crossed over his red and black attire. "I've sensed it," he confirmed, his steel-gray eyes narrowed in concentration. "It's unlike anything I've encountered before. Not a Servant, not a familiarly, definitely not human."
"Divine?" Rin suggested, mentally reviewing the pantheons that might take interest in the Holy Grail War.
"Perhaps," Archer conceded. "But not of any divine signature I recognize from human history."
This gave Rin pause. As a Counter Guardian, Archer's knowledge spanned the entirety of human existence. If he couldn't identify the entity... "We should investigate cautiously," she decided. "Reconnaissance only for now."
Archer nodded, his expression grim. "I'll take spirit form and scout ahead."
"No," Rin countered. "We go together. If this entity is as powerful as it feels, I want to present a united front."
And so, an hour after Shirou's unexpected culinary audition began, Rin Tohsaka stood before Destruction's Table, arms crossed and expression carefully neutral despite her inner concern.
"A café?" she said incredulously. "The magical disturbance that's disrupting the entire city's ley lines is... a café?"
Archer, standing protectively beside her, studied the establishment with practiced tactical assessment. "Appearances can be deceiving. I sense tremendous power contained within that structure. Whatever it appears to be, it's not what it seems."
Rin approached the door cautiously, jewels ready in her pocket. "Stay alert," she instructed. "Be ready to extract us if necessary."
"Always," Archer replied simply.
The door opened with suspicious ease, revealing the impossible interior. Unlike Shirou, who had been drawn in by curiosity and the promise of exotic flavors, Rin entered with full magical defenses engaged, her magic crest glowing faintly beneath her clothing.
The scene that greeted her was not what she expected. Shirou Emiya, of all people, stood behind an elaborate kitchen counter, plating what appeared to be an exquisitely prepared dish. At the far end of the impossible table sat a blindfolded figure radiating divine power, while a teal-skinned woman in maid attire stood attentively beside him.
"Emiya?!" Rin exclaimed, momentarily forgetting her caution. "What are you doing here?"
Shirou looked up, surprise evident on his face. "Tohsaka! I, uh... I'm cooking?"
"You're cooking," she repeated flatly. "For what appears to be an entity of immense magical power that has appeared without warning in my city. Without informing me. Without apparently considering the implications or dangers."
"When you put it that way, it sounds bad," Shirou admitted.
"It is bad!" Rin's voice rose slightly. "Do you have any idea what kind of disruption this... establishment is causing to the city's magical foundation?"
"Boring," the blindfolded figure announced suddenly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the space. "Vados, there's another one. This one's much noisier than the first."
The teal-skinned woman nodded. "Indeed, Lord Viyrim. It appears to be one of the local magical authorities."
Rin bristled at being discussed as if she weren't present. Drawing herself up to her full height (which remained unimpressive next to Archer's towering presence), she addressed the entity directly. "I am Rin Tohsaka, heir to the Tohsaka family and guardian of Fuyuki's spiritual lands. Your presence here is unauthorized and disruptive. I demand an explanation and your immediate departure."
A moment of silence followed her declaration. Then Viyrim laughed—a sound that made the windows vibrate and caused Rin's teeth to feel oddly loose in her gums.
"The little mage makes demands," he said, amusement evident in his voice. "How quaint. Vados, does this one have anything worth eating?"
"She possesses jewel craft," Vados observed clinically. "Gems infused with significant magical energy. They might make an interesting seasoning for the right dish."
"I am NOT seasoning!" Rin protested, a hand moving to her pocket where her most powerful gems were stored.
Archer stepped forward, subtly positioning himself between Rin and the divine beings. "My Master asked you a question," he said evenly, though his stance conveyed readiness for combat. "Why have you come to Fuyuki?"
Viyrim tilted his head, apparently noticing Archer for the first time. "Oh? This one's different. Not fully human. A spirit in human form?" He sniffed the air. "Smells of steel and regret. Interesting."
"Lord Viyrim," Vados explained to the newcomers, "has traveled to your reality to sample its unique culinary offerings. Destruction's Table exists solely to facilitate this gastronomic exploration."
"You're... tourists?" Rin asked disbelievingly.
"Gourmands," Vados corrected. "Lord Viyrim is the God of Destruction, and after countless millennia of cosmic conquest, he now seeks new experiences through the art of consumption rather than annihilation."
"God of Destruction?" Archer's eyes narrowed further. "I'm familiar with every deity in human history. There is no such entity in any pantheon."
"Of course not," Viyrim said dismissively. "I'm not from your reality cluster. Your myths don't know me because I've never visited before. Why would they?"
Rin and Archer exchanged glances, silently communicating years of shared experience in a single look.
"Even if what you say is true," Rin said carefully, "your presence here is causing significant disturbance to our city's magical foundation. The café's existence is warping spatial reality and disrupting ley lines that maintain the balance of power in Fuyuki."
"Is it?" Viyrim seemed untroubled by this information. "Vados, fix that. It's rude to disrupt the locals without cause."
"Of course, my lord." Vados tapped her staff against the floor, sending a pulse of energy outward. "There. The café now exists in harmony with the local spiritual geography. The ley lines will flow around it rather than through it, causing no further disruption."
Rin blinked, feeling the immediate shift in the magical atmosphere. Whatever Vados had done had indeed corrected the problem, and with an ease that suggested tremendous power and precision.
"That's... acceptable," she conceded reluctantly. "For now. But I'll be monitoring the situation closely."
"Monitor all you like, little mage," Viyrim said with a casual wave. "Just don't interrupt my meals. Speaking of which—" He turned his attention back to Shirou. "Is my food ready yet, human chef?"
"Almost," Shirou called from the kitchen, where he had been working diligently despite the tense confrontation. "Final plating now."
Archer raised an eyebrow at Shirou's apparent comfort with the situation. "Emiya," he said in a low voice, "do you understand what you're dealing with here?"
"Not really," Shirou admitted quietly as he carefully arranged the final elements of his dish. "But they haven't threatened anyone, and I've never had the chance to cook with ingredients of this quality before. It seemed... worth the risk."
"Your survival instincts remain abysmal," Archer muttered.
Vados approached Rin and Archer with perfect poise. "While Lord Viyrim samples the human's offering, perhaps you would care to observe? It might alleviate your concerns about our presence."
Rin hesitated, torn between caution and curiosity. "I suppose... that would be acceptable. Archer?"
"I'll remain vigilant," he replied, which was as close to agreement as his protective nature would allow.
With Vados's guidance, they moved to positions where they could observe without being too close to Viyrim. Shirou approached the God of Destruction with his completed dish—a masterful fusion of traditional Japanese techniques with the premium ingredients Vados had provided.
"I present Harmony of Earth and Heaven," Shirou announced with surprising confidence. "Perfectly seared Wagyu beef marinated in aged sake, accompanied by root vegetables grown in soil from sacred mountains, seasoned with herbs from a traditional temple garden. The sauce incorporates traces of mana from my own magical circuits, imparting a unique spiritual essence."
Viyrim leaned forward with evident interest, inhaling the aroma deeply. "Hmm, I can smell the mana infusion. Clever touch, little mage."
With deliberate ceremony, he sampled the dish. The café fell silent as divine judgment was rendered on Shirou's cooking.
For a long moment, Viyrim said nothing, his expression unreadable behind his blindfold. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.
"Not bad," he declared, which somehow felt ## Chapter 5: Divine Judgment and Expanding Circles
"Not bad," Viyrim declared, which somehow felt like the highest praise. "The human understands balance. The mana infusion is subtle, not overpowering. Harmonious, as its name suggests."
Shirou exhaled slowly, tension visibly leaving his shoulders. For reasons he couldn't fully articulate, the approval of this strange deity mattered to him.
"Thank you," he said with a small bow. "I'm glad it meets your standards."
"Standards?" Viyrim laughed, taking another bite. "I've consumed the crystallized hearts of dying stars and sipped nebula wine aged for billions of years. But this..." he gestured to the plate, "this has something those lacked. Intention. Care."
He pointed his utensil at Shirou. "You, human chef. You now work for me."
"I... what?" Shirou stammered.
"You can't just claim people," Rin interjected, stepping forward despite Archer's warning hand on her shoulder.
Viyrim tilted his head in her direction. "Can't I? I am the God of Destruction. I can claim whatever I wish." His tone remained casual, but the temperature in the café dropped several degrees. "Universes have perished for less presumption than yours, little mage."
Vados cleared her throat delicately. "My lord, perhaps we should consider local customs. In this reality, individuals typically enter employment willingly, with negotiated terms."
"Boring bureaucracy," Viyrim muttered, but he waved a hand in acquiescence. "Fine. Human chef, would you like to work for me? I'll compensate you with knowledge beyond mortal comprehension and ensure you don't get obliterated when I eventually tire of this reality."
"That's not exactly a standard job offer," Shirou said cautiously.
Archer stepped forward. "Emiya, you can't seriously be considering this."
"Actually," Shirou said slowly, "I am." He turned to Viyrim. "But I have conditions. I need to maintain my normal life—school, friends, my other responsibilities. And I won't help you do anything that harms people."
Viyrim considered this, drumming fingers on the table. "Acceptable, with one amendment. Your primary loyalty is to my café. When I require your services, you will prioritize them above your mortal concerns."
"Within reason," Shirou countered, showing unexpected backbone.
The God of Destruction smiled, revealing teeth that seemed too perfect and too sharp simultaneously. "You bargain with a god, little mage. Impressive." He extended a hand. "We have an accord."
As Shirou cautiously shook the offered hand, a faint glow surrounded their clasped palms—a contract written in powers beyond human comprehension.
"Excellent," Viyrim declared. "Now, since we have guests..." He gestured to Rin and Archer. "Vados, prepare something suitable for our local magical authority and her phantom warrior."
"At once, my lord." With graceful efficiency, Vados moved to the kitchen area.
"I didn't agree to dine here," Rin protested, though her voice lacked conviction as tantalizing aromas began to fill the air.
"Consider it diplomacy," Viyrim suggested. "Breaking bread with the new neighbor. Isn't that a human custom?"
Before Rin could respond, the café door opened again. A tall, elegant woman with long purple hair stepped inside, her movements fluid and predatory despite her conservative attire. Behind glasses, her eyes widened slightly at the impossible space, then narrowed as they fixed on the divine beings at the table.
"Rider," Archer murmured, shifting his stance subtly.
Viyrim perked up with interest. "Another one! This one smells of ancient divinity, faded but potent. Like a good wine cellared too long." He inhaled deeply. "And blood. Exquisite."
The newcomer—Rider—assessed the situation with preternatural calm. "I sensed a disturbance in the city's spiritual fabric. I didn't expect to find you here, Tohsaka. Or you, Emiya." Her gaze returned to Viyrim. "Or whatever you are."
"I am Viyrim, God of Destruction, Consumer of Worlds, and most recently, Connoisseur of Culinary Delights." He gestured expansively. "Welcome to my café."
"A café," Rider repeated flatly.
"Yes, it appears we've been invaded by interdimensional foodies," Rin explained with resigned sarcasm. "Not Holy Grail contenders, just... hungry tourists."
"I see." Rider's posture remained alert despite her neutral tone. "And this poses no threat to Sakura?"
"Your Master is in no danger from us," Vados assured her, emerging from the kitchen with plates that defied physical description. "Lord Viyrim seeks only gastronomic satisfaction, not conquest."
"For now," Viyrim added cheerfully. "Conquest is such work, and I'm on vacation."
Rider's lips thinned. "That's not as reassuring as you might think."
"Join us," Viyrim invited, ignoring her wariness. "Vados has prepared something special. I'm curious how one of your... nature... experiences flavor."
"My nature?" Rider's hand drifted toward her neck, where her Noble Phantasm could be summoned in an instant.
"Divine, then fallen, then bound," Viyrim elaborated, his blindfolded gaze somehow penetrating. "A goddess reduced to monster, then bound as servant. Fascinating journey. Must have changed your palate considerably."
A tense silence fell. Rider's identity as Medusa was supposed to be secret, a tactical advantage in the Holy Grail War.
"How did you—" she began.
"Your divine essence has a distinct signature," Viyrim explained casually. "Like fingerprints, but for the soul. I've consumed enough gods to recognize the pattern."
"Consumed?" Archer questioned sharply.
"Figure of speech," Vados interjected smoothly, placing dishes before each of them. "Please, enjoy your meal. For our fallen divine guest, Blood-Infused Ambrosia—inspired by Mediterranean traditions but enhanced with essences that should evoke... memories."
The dish before Rider glowed with a subtle crimson aura. Despite herself, she leaned forward slightly, drawn by an aroma that called to something primal within her.
"This is..." she began, but couldn't finish as unexpected emotion constricted her throat.
"The taste of worship," Viyrim supplied. "Of being revered rather than feared. I had Vados recreate it from the divine essences still lingering in your spiritual core."
Rider's hands trembled slightly as she lifted the utensil. "This is cruel."
"On the contrary," Viyrim countered. "It's a gift. A reminder of what was, without the pain of loss. The flavor without the fall."
With evident reluctance that gradually transformed into wonder, Rider tasted the offering. Her stoic expression faltered, eyes closing behind her glasses as forgotten sensations washed over her.
"Adequate?" Viyrim inquired, though his satisfied smile suggested he already knew the answer.
"It's... perfect," Rider admitted quietly. "How is this possible?"
"Divine intervention," Viyrim replied simply. "Sometimes destruction isn't about ending things, but about breaking them down to their essential elements—the better to reconstruct them."
As everyone sampled their personalized dishes, the atmosphere in the café shifted subtly. What had begun as a tense confrontation evolved into an uneasy truce, then gradually into something resembling cautious appreciation.
Even Archer, perhaps the most suspicious of the group, found himself reluctantly impressed by the "Nameless Hero's Redemption"—a dish that somehow tasted of futures that might have been.
"This is dangerous," he muttered to Rin, even as he took another bite.
"I know," she replied, equally entranced by her own plate of "Jeweled Sorcery"—each morsel infused with magical resonance that enhanced her circuits temporarily. "But I'm beginning to think it might be worth the risk."
Viyrim observed the transforming dynamics with evident satisfaction, leaning toward Vados to murmur, "You've outdone yourself. Their defenses are lowering already."
"Food has always been the most direct path to mortal hearts, my lord," she replied quietly. "Even divine ones."
"Speaking of divine—" Viyrim's attention suddenly shifted to the café entrance as the air shimmered with approaching power. "Oh, this should be interesting."
The door opened of its own accord, revealing a figure of breathtaking beauty and overwhelming arrogance. Golden armor gleamed in the café's lighting, red eyes surveyed the gathered individuals with imperious disdain, and blonde hair framed features too perfect to be merely human.
"Who," demanded Gilgamesh, King of Heroes, in his female form, "has dared to breach my treasury?"
---
## Chapter 6: The King Meets the God
The café fell silent as Gilgamesh entered, her divine presence clashing against Viyrim's own aura like thunderclouds colliding. She wore her golden armor with casual magnificence, each step precise and measured as she surveyed the gathered individuals with barely concealed contempt.
"Mongrels," she acknowledged the others dismissively before focusing her crimson gaze on Viyrim. "And something... else."
Viyrim didn't bother to rise from his seat, merely tilting his head with open curiosity. "The Collector arrives," he observed. "Tell me, King of Heroes, what exactly do you believe was taken from your precious vault?"
Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed dangerously. "The wine of the gods, pressed from grapes grown in the Garden of the Immortals, aged for three thousand years. A treasure beyond price, reserved for my pleasure alone."
"Ah, that," Viyrim nodded, lifting a golden goblet that had materialized beside his plate. "Quite good, though a touch sweet for my preference. The overtones of divinity are heavy-handed—like a performer trying too hard to impress."
A stunned silence followed this casual critique. No one spoke to the King of Heroes this way—not if they wished to continue existing.
Golden ripples appeared in the air behind Gilgamesh as the Gates of Babylon began to open. "You dare," she said, her quiet tone more threatening than any shout, "to steal from me and then criticize my treasures?"
"I dare many things," Viyrim replied, swirling the ancient wine in his goblet with evident disinterest. "Destruction of universes. Consumption of cosmic entities. Napping through apocalypses." He took a deliberate sip. "Critiquing mediocre wine seems minor by comparison."
Archer moved subtly, positioning himself to protect Rin, while Rider tensed, ready to deploy her Mystic Eyes. Shirou simply looked back and forth between the two divine beings in growing alarm.
"Lord Viyrim," Vados interjected smoothly, "perhaps our royal guest would appreciate the opportunity to sample what her wine tastes like when properly paired with appropriate cuisine?"
"Excellent suggestion, Vados." Viyrim gestured to the empty chair at his right hand. "Join us, King of Heroes. Let's see if food improves your temperament."
Weapons fully emerged from the golden portals, hovering in deadly anticipation. "You invite me to dine after theft and insult? The arrogance is almost admirable."
"Not arrogance," Viyrim corrected. "Perspective. From where I recline, the concept of ownership across realities becomes... fluid." He removed his blindfold, revealing eyes that swirled with cosmic energy—the birth and death of stars visible in their depths. "When you've ended civilizations with a thought, the borrowing of wine seems trivial."
Everyone in the café except Vados flinched at the unveiled power, feeling the weight of countless extinctions in that gaze.
Gilgamesh, to her credit, didn't step back, though the weapons behind her wavered slightly. "You claim to be a destroyer of worlds?"
"I don't claim anything," Viyrim replied, replacing his blindfold casually. "I simply am. As you simply are the collector of treasures. We are what we are." He patted the chair beside him. "Now, would you prefer to trade boasts of power over a meal, or would you rather begin a conflict that will render this reality uninhabitable?"
For a tense moment, the outcome balanced on a knife's edge. Then, astonishingly, Gilgamesh laughed—a genuine sound of surprised delight.
"You are either the most foolish being I have encountered," she declared, "or the most worthy." With a dismissive gesture, she recalled her weapons, though the Gates remained open as a warning. "I will join your table, God of Destruction. If only to determine which."
As she glided forward to take the offered seat, Rin exhaled shakily. "Did that just happen?" she whispered to Archer. "Did Gilgamesh just... compromise?"
"This is unprecedented," Archer confirmed, his expression troubled. "These entities are disrupting established patterns in ways I can't predict."
Vados approached Gilgamesh with perfect deference that somehow avoided subservience. "For Your Majesty, I have prepared 'Sovereign's Dominion'—rare meats from beasts that ruled their respective domains, seasoned with herbs from gardens tended by emperor's hands, accompanied by grains harvested from fields where kings once walked."
The dish placed before Gilgamesh emanated an aura of authority and conquest that complemented the ancient wine perfectly.
"Acceptable presentation," Gilgamesh assessed, her tone marginally less imperious. She sampled the offering with the careful consideration of one accustomed to the finest things in all eras. After a thoughtful moment, she nodded. "The chef has skill."
"Vados has been preparing my meals for eons," Viyrim said proudly. "She's had time to perfect her craft."
"Much like my wine," Gilgamesh noted pointedly.
"Indeed," Viyrim agreed, offering a conciliatory gesture. "Perhaps I judged too hastily. In proper context, its qualities become more apparent."
This small concession—perhaps the first Viyrim had offered to anyone—caused Vados to raise an eyebrow in surprise.
As the unlikely group continued their meal, conversations emerged in pockets around the table. Shirou, ever the diplomat, engaged Gilgamesh in a surprisingly detailed discussion about the culinary traditions of ancient Uruk. Rin cautiously questioned Vados about the nature of their reality and how it intersected with the Nasuverse. Archer and Rider maintained watchful silence, though both continued to eat with evident appreciation.
"You've created quite the gathering," Vados observed quietly to Viyrim. "The Holy Grail War's major players, dining together rather than battling."
"Food has power that combat lacks," Viyrim replied, watching Gilgamesh gesture expressively as she described ancient hunting techniques to an attentive Shirou. "Battle establishes dominance, but breaking bread establishes connection."
"A surprisingly insightful observation, my lord."
Viyrim shrugged. "Even gods learn eventually. Though usually after destroying a few too many potentially interesting civilizations in fits of pique."
As the meal progressed, Gilgamesh gradually relaxed, her armor dissolving into casual attire of royal quality. She leaned toward Viyrim, voice lowered to a register meant for his ears alone.
"You are not of this world," she stated. "Not of any world I know. What brings a destroyer to our realm, truly?"
"Boredom," Viyrim answered honestly. "I've conquered all worthy opponents in countless universes. Destruction becomes... predictable after eons of practice."
"And so you seek stimulation through mortal pleasures instead?" Her tone held unexpected understanding rather than mockery.
"Is that not why you collect treasures?" Viyrim countered. "To fill the void that immortality eventually creates?"
Gilgamesh studied him with renewed interest. "Few comprehend the burden of divine perspective."
"Few bear it as long as we have," Viyrim agreed.
A moment of silence stretched between them—not tense but contemplative, a recognition of kindred experience despite vastly different natures.
Gilgamesh raised her goblet in a subtle toast. "To novel diversions in a tiresome existence."
Viyrim clinked his glass against hers. "To finding unexpected treasures in foreign realms."
Vados, observing this exchange, smiled knowingly to herself. Her master was developing attachments, whether he recognized it or not.
The café door opened once again, admitting a cool evening breeze and a new presence—a woman with blonde hair and piercing green eyes, dressed in a blue and silver armored dress. Her regal bearing matched Gilgamesh's, though her aura spoke of different virtues.
"Saber," Shirou exclaimed, half-rising from his seat.
Artoria Pendragon surveyed the impossible gathering with visible confusion. "Shirou? I sensed a disturbance and followed your magical signature, but this..." Her gaze traveled from Rin to Archer, from Rider to Gilgamesh, and finally settled on Viyrim and Vados. "What manner of truce is this?"
"Not a truce," Viyrim corrected, gesturing expansively. "A dinner party. Care to join us, King of Knights? We were just getting to dessert."
---
## Chapter 7: A Clash of Kings
Artoria remained in the doorway, her hand instinctively moving toward where Excalibur would materialize if needed. Her gaze locked with Gilgamesh's, ancient enmity flaring between them.
"You," she said softly, tension evident in every line of her body. "What game are you playing now, King of Heroes?"
Gilgamesh smiled lazily, lifting her wine goblet in mocking salute. "No game, Saber. Merely enjoying refreshments with our new... neighbor." She gestured toward Viyrim. "The God of Destruction has excellent taste in wine, if questionable methods of acquisition."
"God of Destruction?" Artoria's attention shifted fully to Viyrim, her tactical assessment evident. "You are not a Servant. Nor any divine spirit I recognize."
"As I've been repeatedly explaining," Viyrim sighed dramatically, "I'm from outside your reality cluster entirely. Different universe, different rules, different cosmic hierarchy." He waved dismissively. "The specifics are boring. What matters is the food."
Shirou stood, moving cautiously toward Artoria. "It's okay, Saber. It's strange, I know, but they're not here for the Holy Grail. They just want to eat."
"And collect interesting specimens," Viyrim added, eyeing Artoria with open curiosity. "The Once and Future King... your legend reverberates across multiple reality clusters. I've encountered echoes of it even in realms where your Earth never existed."
This gave Artoria pause. "You speak as if you've traveled between worlds."
"Traveled, conquered, destroyed," Viyrim confirmed with a casual shrug. "It gets repetitive eventually. Hence, my current interest in culinary exploration instead. Less screaming, more savoring."
Vados approached Artoria with a respectful bow. "King of Knights, we offer you hospitality and a guarantee of neutrality within these walls. Destruction's Table exists outside the constraints of your Holy Grail War."
"A sanctuary?" Artoria questioned skeptically.
"Of sorts," Vados agreed. "Though primarily a dining establishment."
Shirou gestured to the spread on the table. "The food is amazing, Saber. And you're always hungry..."
This personal appeal seemed to sway Artoria more than any cosmic explanation. She hesitated, then stepped fully inside, allowing the door to close behind her. "I will observe," she conceded. "Nothing more, for now."
"Excellent!" Viyrim clapped his hands together. "Vados, prepare something suitable for the King of Knights. Something hearty—her energy signature suggests a substantial appetite."
"At once, my lord."
As Vados retreated to the kitchen, Artoria cautiously approached the table, positioning herself near Shirou but maintaining distance from Gilgamesh. "This situation defies all strategic logic," she observed quietly.
"Welcome to Destruction's Table," Shirou replied with a small smile. "Logic doesn't seem to apply here."
Viyrim leaned forward, addressing both monarchs with evident fascination. "Two kings from the same mythic cycle, now adversaries in a new era. How delightfully complex your reality is. In most universes, conflicts are far more straightforward—cosmic entities battling for dominance, elder gods consuming younger ones, the usual tedium."
"There is nothing usual about the Holy Grail War," Artoria stated firmly.
"Perhaps not to you," Viyrim countered. "But from my perspective, it's a rather provincial affair. Powerful beings summoned to fight over a single magical trinket?" He chuckled. "I've destroyed artifacts that could rewrite multiversal laws."
Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed at his dismissive tone. "The Holy Grail is no mere trinket."
"Everything is relative," Viyrim replied with a casual wave. "To an ant, a sugar cube is a treasure beyond imagination. To a human, it's a momentary sweetness. To me..." He shrugged expressively.
Before the conversation could devolve further, Vados returned with a magnificent plate for Artoria—a perfect roast surrounded by golden potatoes and vegetables arranged like jewels, all emanating an aura of nourishing power.
"Avalon's Bounty," Vados announced, placing it before the King of Knights. "Inspired by the eternal abundance of your sacred sheath, designed to satisfy even your legendary appetite."
Artoria's composure faltered at the sight and smell of the feast. Despite her wariness, her stomach growled audibly.
"It's not enchanted or poisoned," Viyrim assured her, amused. "Just expertly prepared. Eat, King of Knights. Food tastes better without suspicion as seasoning."
With evident reluctance that rapidly transformed into enthusiasm, Artoria began to eat. Her eyes widened at the first bite, a flicker of wonder crossing her usually stoic features.
"This tastes like..." she began, then stopped, seemingly unable to articulate the experience.
"Home?" Viyrim suggested. "The ideal of home, perhaps. What Camelot should have been, had reality matched your dreams."
Artoria looked up sharply. "How could you possibly know that?"
"Divine insight," Viyrim replied simply. "Or perhaps just educated guessing based on eons of observing mortal desires. We all hunger for what almost was."
The table fell into contemplative silence, broken only by the sounds of appreciation as everyone continued their meal. Gilgamesh watched Artoria with calculated interest, while Archer maintained his vigilant observation of all parties. Rider had relaxed marginally, engaged in quiet conversation with Rin about the magical properties of their respective dishes.
The peaceful moment shattered when the café door burst open once again. A figure in black and red appeared—another Servant, radiating malevolent energy and barely contained fury.
"Berserker," Archer identified tensely, rising to his feet.
The Mad Servant of the Sword, Corrupted Saber Alter, stood in the entrance, darkness swirling around her form, her golden eyes fixed on the original Artoria with singular focus.
"My other self," she growled, voice distorted by darkness and rage. "I sensed your presence... alongside others who should be enemies. What corruption is this?"
Before anyone could respond, Viyrim sighed heavily. "Boring," he declared loudly. "Vados, there's another one interrupting my dessert. This one's especially noisy and dramatic."
Alter shifted her baleful gaze to him. "Who dares speak to me thus?"
Viyrim didn't bother to rise, merely lifting a hand in lazy greeting. "God of Destruction, Consumer of Worlds, etcetera, etcetera. Currently on vacation and trying to enjoy a meal without constant interruptions from warrior spirits with overwrought backstories."
For a moment, even Alter seemed taken aback by his casual dismissal. Then darkness flared around her, Excalibur Morgan materializing in her grasp. "Your arrogance ends now."
"Oh dear," Vados murmured, stepping smoothly between her master and the enraged Servant. "I'm afraid violence is prohibited within Destruction's Table. Perhaps you would prefer to sample our menu instead?"
"Stand aside," Alter commanded, darkness pulsing from her corrupted blade.
"I cannot do that," Vados replied calmly. "But I can offer alternatives."
With speed that defied perception, Alter lunged forward—only to find her blade stopped by a single finger from Vados, the contact point glowing with contained energy.
"Impossible," Alter hissed.
"Merely improbable," Vados corrected pleasantly. "Now, will you join our dinner civilly, or must I escort you outside?"
The standoff stretched for several heartbeats, the café's other occupants frozen in various states of readiness. Gilgamesh looked more amused than concerned, while Artoria had half-risen, Excalibur partially manifested in her grip. Archer had summoned his twin blades, and Rider's hand hovered near her collar.
Only Viyrim seemed utterly unconcerned, continuing to enjoy what appeared to be a multi-layered parfait that occasionally shifted colors.
"Delicious," he commented between bites. "The quantum fluctuations really bring out the flavor of the existential cream."
Something in his complete disregard for her threat seemed to penetrate Alter's rage. She looked from Vados's blocking finger to Viyrim's casual dining, reassessing the power dynamics with tactical precision that even corruption couldn't fully suppress.
Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her blade. "What manner of beings are you?"
"The kind that appreciates proper dining etiquette," Viyrim replied. "Violence ruins digestion—both for the violent and their targets."
Vados lowered her finger, offering Alter a small bow. "If you would care to join us, I can prepare something suited to your... altered tastes."
A tense moment passed before Excalibur Morgan dissolved back into darkness. "I will observe," Alter declared, echoing Artoria's earlier statement though with considerably more menace.
"Splendid," Viyrim beamed. "Another king for our collection. Vados, we're going to need a bigger table soon."
As Alter cautiously entered, the atmosphere in the café shifted again. Where there had been one point of tension between Artoria and Gilgamesh, now a triangle of wary observation formed, with both Sabers watching each other and the King of Heroes with equal suspicion.
Viyrim observed this with evident delight. "Isn't this fascinating? The same heroic soul in different aspects, plus their ancient adversary/admirer, all breaking bread together."
"This is unprecedented," Rin whispered to Archer. "Servants who should be trying to kill each other..."
"The café appears to exert some form of influence," Archer replied quietly. "Though whether magical or merely psychological, I can't determine."
"It's the food," Shirou suggested, having overheard them. "There's something about eating together... it changes how people interact."
Viyrim caught this exchange and smiled approvingly at Shirou. "The human chef understands. Breaking bread together is one of the few constants across reality clusters. Enemies who share a meal find it harder to maintain perfect enmity."
Vados returned with a plate for Alter—a dark mirror of Artoria's feast, with meats prepared in deeper, more complex methods, vegetables charred to bring out bitter undertones that balanced beautifully with rich sauces.
"Fallen Avalon," she announced, placing it before the corrupted king. "For one who has experienced the shadow of paradise rather than its light."
Alter stared at the offering with visible suspicion. Across the table, Artoria paused in her own meal to watch her darker self's reaction.
"It's not poisoned," Artoria offered unexpectedly. "And it's... remarkable."
Their eyes met—identical in shape, divergent in color and experience. A moment of understanding passed between them, transcending their fundamental opposition.
Alter nodded once, a barely perceptible acknowledgment, before sampling the dish. Her reaction was more controlled than Artoria's, but a subtle relaxation of her features conveyed similar approval.
"Tolerable," she pronounced, which from her seemed equivalent to highest praise.
Viyrim leaned toward Gilgamesh, speaking in a mock whisper. "Two kings for the price of one. Your reality is extremely efficient with its myths."
Gilgamesh snorted softly, an undignified sound she would have permitted no one else to hear. "You find this amusing?"
"I find everything amusing," Viyrim replied. "When you've existed as long as I have, amusement becomes a survival tactic."
The King of Heroes studied him with renewed interest. "Perhaps you're not entirely without wisdom, God of Destruction."
"Highest praise indeed, coming from you." Viyrim raised his goblet in salute. "To unlikely dining companions and entertaining contradictions."
Gilgamesh raised her own glass, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "To novel experiences in a predictable existence."
As they drank, Vados caught Shirou's eye and nodded subtly toward the two powerful beings—a silent acknowledgment of unexpected developments. Shirou's eyes widened slightly in understanding before he quickly looked away.
The God of Destruction was collecting more than culinary experiences in this reality. Whether he realized it or not, connections were forming—tenuous, complex, potentially volatile, but connections nonetheless.
And Destruction's Table was only beginning to gather its patrons.
---
## Chapter 8: The Moon Descends
Weeks passed in Fuyuki City, though time flowed strangely around Destruction's Table. The café appeared in different locations throughout the city, materializing whenever Viyrim felt peckish or bored, which was often. Sometimes it manifested in the shopping district, other times near the church, occasionally even at the school—always drawing in curious visitors and returning patrons.
What had begun as an anomaly became, improbably, a fixture of Fuyuki's magical landscape. A neutral territory where Servants, Masters, and supernatural entities could interact without immediate hostility, bound by the unspoken rules of Viyrim's establishment and the universal appeal of Vados's cooking.
Shirou had adapted to his role as the café's human chef with surprising ease, balancing his school responsibilities and Grail War participation with his culinary duties. Under Vados's tutelage, his skills had progressed rapidly, incorporating techniques no human had ever conceived.
"You're improving," Vados observed one afternoon as she watched him prepare a special fusion dish. "Your mana infusion technique is becoming more refined."
"Thanks," Shirou replied, concentrating on maintaining the perfect balance of magical and physical ingredients. "Though I still can't create half the effects you manage."
"You are constrained by mortal limitations," Vados reminded him. "Even exceptional ones such as yours."
The café door opened, admitting Rin and Archer, now regular visitors despite Rin's initial suspicions. They had discovered that Viyrim's establishment offered not just extraordinary cuisine but valuable intelligence—most of the Holy Grail War's participants eventually passed through its doors.
"Tohsaka," Shirou greeted her with a nod. "The usual table?"
"Please," she confirmed, surveying the day's occupants with practiced casualness.
The café was moderately busy. Gilgamesh occupied what had become her customary seat near Viyrim's right hand, engaged in what appeared to be a competitive wine tasting. Artoria sat further down, methodically working through what looked like her third full meal of the afternoon. In a corner booth, surprisingly, sat Kirei Kotomine, the Church's representative, silently enjoying a bowl of mapo tofu specially prepared to his excessive spice preferences.
"Quite the gathering today," Archer noted quietly as they made their way to their usual spot.
"Indeed," Rin agreed. "Though I don't see—"
She was interrupted as the café door burst open dramatically, admitting a gust of wind and a flash of crimson eyes. A woman with flowing blonde hair and an aura of primal power strode in, her presence immediately drawing all attention.
"Well," Rin murmured. "That answers that question."
Arcueid Brunestud, the White Princess of the True Ancestors, surveyed the café with predatory interest. Unlike most first-time visitors, she showed no surprise at the impossible interior, merely a calculating assessment.
"So this is the spatial anomaly Roa mentioned," she said to no one in particular. "Interesting."
Viyrim looked up from his wine contest with Gilgamesh, pushing his blindfold up slightly to reveal cosmic eyes that swirled with nebulae and dying stars. "Vados," he called. "There's a moon-blooded one. How fascinating."
Vados materialized beside him instantly. "Indeed, my lord. A True Ancestor, if I'm not mistaken. The apex predator of this reality's vampire hierarchy."
Arcueid approached their table directly, showing none of the caution or hostility that had characterized other first encounters. Her steps were graceful, powerful, and utterly confident.
"You're the disturbance in the natural order," she stated, stopping before Viyrim. "The one existing outside proper reality constraints."