Get...summoned?

Shirou Emiya woke with a start.

One second, he had been in the gym, his post-workout haze settling in after a particularly grueling session. The familiar clang of weights and hum of the air conditioning had made the world around him feel grounded. Now, the ground itself was gone—along with everything else.

His eyes blinked open to find himself standing in a massive, ornate chamber. The ceiling was high, and the walls were adorned with banners bearing unfamiliar symbols. Bright lights illuminated the room in a way that felt both futuristic and fantastical. His confusion deepened as he looked around, eyes darting from one corner to another.

And then it hit him.

He was *naked*.

Tiny little Emiya cock. Hanging atop his precious nutsack.

Shirou’s hands flew down to cover his manhooz, his face turning red as his heart raced. 'What the hell?' Where were his clothes? Where was his gym bag? His surroundings were completely alien, and the only thing more alien than the room was the woman standing in front of him.

'Saber?'

No… not exactly.

The blonde looked like Saber—Artoria Pendragon—but her outfit was completely different from the regal armor he had come to know during the Holy Grail War. She wore a blue outfit that was somewhere between a school uniform and a battle outfit.

"Shirou Emiya," Master Artoria spoke, "you’ve been summoned."

Shirou blinked, dumbfounded. “S-Saber? What—what’s going on? Where am I?”

Master Artoria smiled. "I am, well, a version of Artoria Pendragon. But! Not the Artoria you know. You are in Chaldea—a place that exists beyond time and space. We need your help."

Before Shirou could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed around him, and more figures began to appear. His confusion deepened as he recognized some of the women, but others were entirely unfamiliar.

The first to approach was **Ishtar**—though Shirou had no idea who she was. With long, flowing black hair, golden accessories adorning her body, and a commanding smirk on her lips, she strode up to him, her eyes scanning him up and down. There was something unsettlingly familiar about her face—like Rin Tohsaka, but not quite.

"Well, well," Ishtar’s voice was dripping with amusement, "so *this* is the legendary Shirou Emiya? Not much to look at, huh?" Her eyes trailed downward, and Shirou immediately squeezed his cock and balls, trying to cover himself as best as he could. "You do realize the more of your cock you hide, the smaller I know it is."

Cue Ishtar mocking with a hand on her mouth and a small penis sign.

"Ishtar, enough." Another woman entered the fray. Artoria Lancer—or at least that’s what Shirou assumed, given her armor and spear—stepped forward next, her expression calm and serious. Unlike the mocking gaze of Ishtar, Lancer’s eyes were polite but focused. The first thing Shirou noticed was her *figure*. Her breasts were massive, almost comically so, barely contained by the straps of her armor. He tried—*really tried*—not to stare, but his gaze kept flickering back, his embarrassment growing by the second.

'My dick would get sucked up by those tits.'

"Welcome, Shirou," Artoria Lancer said by tapping her speat down. "We appreciate your assistance. I understand this is overwhelming, but we have no time to waste."

"Assistance? I don’t even know what’s going on!" Shirou stammered, desperately trying to wrap his head around everything while also figuring out how to hide his nudity.

Another figure stepped forward—Rin’s face, but not quite Rin. This one was wearing a red jacket with an authoritative air about her. She eyed him critically, arms crossed over her chest. "They really summoned *him*?" she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “I’m Counter Guardian Tohsaka, by the way. Don’t get too excited—there are a lot of *me* here. But we had ****. You were the only one with the… right qualifications.”

Shirou’s brain was running on overdrive. "Qualifications?"

Ishtar laughed, folding her arms. "You’re here because we need to perform mana transfers. And in our current situation, we need a more… *direct* method."

"Mana transfers…" Shirou’s heart skipped a beat. He remembered that phrase. With Saber, back in the Holy Grail War, there had been a time where he had been **** to transfer mana to her—through rather intimate means. He swallowed hard, his face turning red as the implication hit him. “W-Wait… you mean…?”

Rin sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, Shirou. Mana transfer through your sperm. We’re running low on magical energy here, and our best shot is to—”

"—use you," Lancer finished, her expression serious. “Chaldea’s Servants have been unable to sustain themselves due to a shortage of mana, and while normally we would find another way, the situation is dire. You have a unique connection to us.”

Shirou’s brain went blank. He stared at the assembled women—each of them resembling someone from his past or someone entirely new—and then looked down at his own body, still hiding his schlong.

"Pfft! With a nutsack, we'll wring him dry in an hour!"

"Ishtar," Artoria Lancer chided. "A man's sack is not be insulted."

Shirou’s embarrassment deepened.

Lancer Lancer kept going. "Most importantly, he is here to help, and that’s what matters. The size of his penis and scrotum will not affect the success of the mana transfers. So if you do not mind, Shirou Emiya, remove your hands. Lay them at the side. We will not insult."

"Except me," Ishtar chimed in.

“W-wait, I… I don’t understand,” Shirou stammered, his face still red with embarrassment and cocm, “you brought me here to… to…sex...?”

“Yes,” Master Artoria said. “Mana transfer through intimate means. All of us here are versions of the women you’ve known: Rin Tohsaka, Artoria Pendragon, Sakura Matou. You have a unique bond with each of us, and that bond is vital to restoring the energy Chaldea needs.”

Shirou’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. And to make things worse, every time one of them glanced down at his still-covered dong, he felt another wave of shame wash over him.

Ishtar, never one to let a joke go, smirked. “Let’s just say we weren’t expecting a *legendary blade*. More like a… pocket knife.”

Shirou groaned, wishing more than anything that someone—anyone—would give him some clothes. But no one made a move to help.

"Seriously," Shirou muttered under his breath, "can’t I get some clothes?"

"Eventually," Counter Gyardian Tohsaka replied. "But first, we have to see if you’re up to the task. I hope you’re ready, Shirou. Please show us your cock."