[Fate/ninth heaven] Forgotten Wings; BLUE SKY [route I, day 15]

[feral-phoenix.livejournal.com]

Masterlist and readme are here.

BLUE SKY

  …When I wake up, it’s light outside.
  It looks like I went ahead and slept in.
  But just like yesterday, Lancer isn’t awake either.
  He’s lying next to me with his wings folded at his back like a bird, sleeping soundly.

  “…”
  Carefully, I slide out of bed, trying my hardest not to wake Lancer.

  …Now the question is what to do about clothes.
  Mine are messy enough from last night that I’m not sure I want to touch them much until they’ve been cleaned.
  I look around and find that there’s a stack of clean things on the sofa nearby.
  …Well.
  These actually seem to be my clothes.
  It appears that Rose or someone went and got some spares yesterday while Lancer and I were out playing.

  I get dressed quickly and leave the room, trying not to make noise.
  Lancer was hurt last night too, and if he still needs his sleep, then I don’t want to disturb him too much.

  …I should make some kind of a plan.
  Whatever I did last night, that was enough to make Caster back off.
  It would be a good idea to try to utilize that, but I’m not even entirely sure what I did myself.
  If Rose knew about this, she would already have told me about it.
  …So that leaves Hector-sama.

  Sigh.
  It’s still light out, so I should be able to go and come back without any major problems.
  He might be a little bit scary sometimes, but he would know best if it’s a problem about my body, so I don’t see what choice I have.
  …Rose probably won’t like that I’m going back to the church again, but honestly, I’m stuck.
  I can slip out and then come back without bothering her or the others, since this should be a quick journey.

  …I reach the hill.
  I climb quietly and come into sight of the vast church.

  Something about the tall white building against the gray sky…
  …or maybe it’s the traces of Hector-sama’s presence even outside…
  …make my skin break out into gooseflesh.
  I shiver and open the doors.

  “…Hector-sama?”
  I walk into the chapel, but the lights are off and he doesn’t seem to be here.
  That’s odd.
  He’s usually close by, and comes to answer my questions right away to make me leave.
  …I can tell that his presence is here, but he’s not here…

  “—Hector-sama…?”
  Could he be in the back?
  Carefully, I walk up the aisle and to the altar.

  Nothing.
  I call his name again, quietly.

  …Quietly?
  If I’m calling for him, I should call loudly, but I’m subconsciously keeping my voice down.
  The prickling sensation that I felt outside hasn’t gone away.

  I exit the back door of the chapel and emerge in a courtyard.
  …I’m not familiar with this church, so I don’t even know where to begin looking.
  I know that Hector-sama is here somewhere in this grand building, but I have no idea where he is, and that puts me a little on edge.
  “—”
  My heart pounds.

  …Why?
  I keep my breathing soft even though I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate.
  It feels like I’ve begun to sweat.

  …Hector-sama isn’t here.
  A voice inside me tells me that he’s not here, so I should go back home.
  Lancer will wake up soon.
  Rose will scold me if I’m out for too long, and I’ll get lost if I stay in here for too long.
  This is a place I shouldn’t be.
  It’s not that it’s bad.
  It’s not bad, it’s nothing bad, so I should just turn around and go home before…

      (…Before what?)

  …This is bad.
  I don’t feel good.
  I’m chilled, sweating, and starting to feel sick.
  This is very bad.
  My instincts are sharp enough that I cannot be wrong about something like this.

  …That’s when I see the staircase.
  It’s dark.
  It’s completely black.
  …No, it’s not completely black, but that’s how I felt.
  “…Underground?”
  Hector-sama could be there.
  …But my heart is beating so hard.

  It’s fine. It’s fine. Just go back.
  It doesn’t smell like blood.
  It doesn’t smell like blood.
  It doesn’t smell like blood.
  There’s no way it smells like blood.
  …I should go home, but…

  …I walk into the darkness.



  At the bottom of the staircase is a room of cold stone.
  There aren’t lights, but a dim blue glow illuminates it like the ceiling is covered in phosphorescent moss or something like that.
  It looks like some kind of ancient temple or altar.

  It’s perfectly clean, so either it’s used often or dust doesn’t even have the nerve to settle in such a place.
  …If I were dust, I would be smart enough to avoid this place.
  I guess that means I’m pretty stupid.

  …Past the gate in front of me is something like a catacomb.
  There’s something bright within all that darkness.
  …I walk forward toward it as if pulled.
  I cannot stop my feet, even though my common sense is telling me to leave here before it’s too late.

  The air feels thicker in here as though it’s very humid.
  …And it smells kind of like how I imagine a slaughterhouse would.
  There’s a pervasive scent of decay as though there were things dying in here for a long time.
  …But on top of that is the scent of fresh blood so thick that I want to gag.

  Even on top of that.
  There’s something that smells like formaldehyde, thick and cloying.

  Someone appears to have left a light deep within.
  After all the darkness it makes my eyes hurt, but my eyes have begun to adjust.

  …I see it.
  My eyes adjust and I see it.

  Blood.
  There’s blood.
  There’s blood everywhere.
  Blood in long spatters like a Rorschach blot.

  …And in the center.

  Long white limbs spread out.
  Thin and small and delicate.
  A girl’s arms.
  More like a child’s.
  She is splayed on her back as if pinned by her hands and ankles.

  Her skin is perfectly white.
  White except for the blue mottling on her wrists, throat, face, thighs, breasts—

  A girl’s, dead, …corpse.
  It’s a corpse.
  It’s a corpse.
  It’s a corpse.
  It’s a corpse.
  It’s a corpse.

  …As though profaning something pure.
  There is a wide, rust-colored slice from just above her larynx that splits her body open all the way down to her vagina.
  “—”
  It’s neat like a dissection slice and her skin is pulled back around the abdomen and the bottom of her ribcage.
  I can see her bones, but there’s something wrong with them.
  Her exposed muscle and organs are maroon and black as though they have slowly died.
  …Her body isn’t rotten yet, but only smells of blood and chemicals.

  …And.

  ……Fresh and old splatters of semen.

  “—Gih.”

    They cross her legs and the lines of white even hang over and drip down into her opened body as if to profane even the sickest of rituals.

  “…ah.”



    …I,
      …know,
        this girl.


  Red eyes that have lost all their life and might as well be jelly models.
  Pink hair that’s become rough and clotted with blood.
  …And as if to prove the thing I don’t want to recognize, half of a red pattern engraved upon her arm.


  Master of one of the Riders, Meslieness Mell Zweig.
  A childish young girl who smiled and acted as though she were much smaller than she actually was.
  —Primea.
  We left her alive.
  We left her and the other girl alive.
  Why is she here?
  Why… did she have to die like this?

  I can’t look away from that body.
  You can’t even call it mutilated, but it’s been desecrated nonetheless.
  It’s like all of her bones have been replaced with metal and her organs with cheap rubber models that haven’t been dyed.

  …And someone, did that kind of thing, while she was dying.
  Perhaps even as her body was being taken apart.
  Perhaps even as she was crying and didn’t know why.

  Scenes like that flow into my mind and I want to throw up.
  I can’t move.
  I can’t breathe.
  The dead body of the girl is like a curse that pins my feet to the floor.


  …Then.
  “—So this is where you wandered off to.”
  The lights come on in a flash that blinds me for a few moments.

  The choking presence and that voice.
  I don’t even need to turn around.
  Even a dumb animal knows when its back is to the wall.

  “—Really. You simply couldn’t wait for me up above, could you?
  “But then you’ve always been a foolish boy.”
  I can tell from the sound of the voice.
  …That man is smiling.
  Not even bitterly or dangerously.
  But in perfect amusement.

  “—Come now, you dull child.
  “Can’t you even say anything, or is the shock of seeing your kin in such a state too outrageous even for you?”

  “—What?”
  What did he just say?

  …He doesn’t even ask what I mean.
  “In a way, you could have referred to her as your older sister, you know.
  “—She was still a prototype, one of many failures, but it was the process that was eventually refined to give you birth.
  “Such a shame. I’m sure she would be quite embarrassed to be seen by her younger brother in such a state.”

  …Hector…, is laughing.

  “But there is no helping such a thing.
  “There may still have been some materials of use in that body, so when I tired of punishing her for her failures in this Grail War, I began to collect what I could.
  “—At least the orichalcum in her blood and bones has not dissolved to the extent of the other girl.
  “She was too useless even to keep alive for entertainment.”

  “You—”

  “—Honestly, cannot you even understand something so simple? You truly are obtuse.
  “It was the ‘blueprint’ that we obtained, many millennia ago.
  “The source is gone, and so if more of you are to be made, then it must be done artificially.
  “—Our data on Aries, at least, was quite extensive.
  “He never even received his Diviner, and so he was a most suitable subject.
  “We had the optimal results all recorded, and so all that was left would be to reproduce them.”

  I don’t understand what he’s saying.
  It feels like my head is filled with static.

  “—It’s taken a very long time, of course.
  “There were so many failures, but at last we had a few workable samples.
  “This girl was one of the more functional failures.
  “Able to live, but unable to produce anything more than a fake.”

  “—Ein.
  “For all the little you’ve shown it, you’re the first success.”
  “—You are the real thing.”

  A thousand voices wake up in my head all at once.
  They combine and overlay with the static.
  My back hurts like it’s missing something.

  Inside me.
  Inside me.
  Inside me.
  …Inside me?

  I can hear a voice.
  Underneath all of them.

  …My senses are telling me not to think.
  To go back, before I can’t any longer.

  But it’s too late. The switch has been flipped and I can’t forget again.

  I am—

  “—Yes.
  “Caster told me of your success.
  “You’ve done well, but once one has been formed, another can take its place.
  “…All of you were only here to make the numbers fit, from the beginning.”

  My field of vision is growing narrow.
  I’m overwhelmed.
  I’m too overwhelmed to fight back against this pressing sensation of death.

  Lancer—
  All I can do, is wish that salvation would come for me—

(interlude 15-1)

  When he awakens, his Master has already gone.
  He cannot sense Ein’s presence anywhere in the house, although he goes downstairs to check and make sure that he is not fooling around in the kitchen or talking to any of the others.
  …He is not there.
  He sits down with a sigh.
  He feels something like irritation, and wishes that Ein would have at least awakened him to say where he intended to go.

  After a while, he grows bored with sitting still and looks outside.
  The sky is covered in a great amorphous canopy of gray.
  It looks like the beginning of winter.
  A wind is going and it appears that the clouds are moving quickly, so the sky may be clear by tonight, allowing them to see the stars.

  He muses idly, wondering whether any of the constellations visible from this town would even be familiar to him.
  Perhaps Ein would share with him their names and the meanings behind them.
  He allows his mind to drift away from the Grail War as he absentmindedly considers mundane things like that.
  …He’s aware that he doesn’t usually think like this.
  …No, it’s more that he hasn’t had the chance to think about things like this in a long time.

  “—Oh, there you are.
  “Hey Lancer, do you have any idea where Ein went?”

  …The magus Rose appears at the end of the hall, and Lancer moves away from the door.

  “—No.
  “I apologize. It appears that he has gone outside without my knowing.”

  Rose sighs.
  “Man, that’s just my luck. I wanted to get him to help out, since Roswell and Vienya both want lunch and I’ve got my hands full with Nessiah.
  “—That idiot’s fever just won’t go down no matter what I do. I was hoping that I could at least make Ein cook, or trade places so I can make some food and not have to worry.”
  Rose complains like that while making a face like an annoyed cat.

  “…Nessiah? He still has not recovered?”
  He is a bit confused as to why.
  First of all, why Ein continues to insist upon adopting so many ex-Masters, but also as to why neither Rose’s magic nor Roswell’s would have any effect.
  Both of them are competent healers with good knowledge of the basics, so even if Berserker’s Master were truly ill, then they should be able to care for him with little difficulty.
  At the least, his fever should have gone down by this time, according to his old memories of researching healing magic.

  “No.
  “I don’t understand it. He’s at his limits and his Magic Circuit won’t turn off.
  “He’s a strong magus and his limits must be extraordinary, but at this rate he’s going to wind up comatose until this war is over.
  “—If he were a simpler life form like a homunculus, his body would already be breaking down by now. So honestly, it’s about all we can do just to keep his necessary bodily functions working.”

  “…?”
  He does not understand it.

  Rose sighs.
  “—Well, it’s complicated, and you have enough to worry about.
  “Ein’s either shopping or he’s gone back to the church again to bother Hector-sama about coming up with a plan to defeat Caster.
  “When he comes back, yell at him for me. I have to go back and look after Nessiah now.”
  She leaves.

  …He is left standing still and feeling uneasy.
  —By now, there should be no problem with a plan.
  It will be a very difficult battle, but between the two of them, they should be able to defeat Caster; the only problem is the limits of Ein’s body.
  His Master is still untrained, no matter how powerful he may be, and appears unused to using his true abilities, but they should have enough time left to teach him.

  His uneasiness festers.
  “—”
  Just as he decides he may as well go out on his own and check after the shopping district and the church in spirit form—

  —His chest contracts.
  He turns and glares towards the source of the sensation.
  …There isn’t time.
  Lancer opens the door to the house and leaps out.
  He moves more quickly than the human eye can trace.
  He reaches the church without once stopping or slowing down.
  …Lancer arms himself.

  He did not intend to do so until he was inside, but this place stinks of death.
  He can feel the weak thread connecting him to Ein growing tense as if it’s about to snap.
  …His Master is in danger.
  That is all that Lancer knows, but that is enough.
  There is no time left.
  —Thinking so.
  Lancer breaks through the door and rushes into the church.
  He does not care about the surroundings and the magical energy discharged when he kicks the ground is enough to warp the floor and destroy the pews.
  Ignoring everything else, he rushes through the chapel and into the courtyard, finds the stairs, and explodes like a red bullet into the catacombs.
  …This place smells overwhelmingly like death.
  And within that darkness, Ein is silently crying out for help within the confines of his mind—

  “—Ah, so you have arrived.”
  A familiar voice.
  Lancer pays it no mind.
  His Master is in the room in the back, slumped down onto his knees and with a blank expression.
  It is not from the horror of the defiled corpse of the other Master before him.
  He seems to be numbed from the inside at the force of a realization.
  …But he is alive.
  Lancer is able to relax very slightly.

  He will go.
  He will go to where his Master is.
  “—”

  But as he enters the room that stinks of death.
  There is someone in his way.

  “—You—”

(15-1 interlude out.)

  …I can’t hear anything.
  I can’t sense anything and I have no perception of what’s around me.
  My body hurts.
  It feels like my body is being opened up like the girl’s.

  “—”

  The “thing” inside me.
  It’s telling me that it’s time to let it be born.

      “Because those angels are the same as you, Ein—”

  …Stop.
  I don’t want to remember.
  I’m human.
  First of all, I’m just a powerless magic user.
  So—

  But the words pound in.
  …Because I’m not a magic user.
  I’m not a magus at all.
  The Magic Circuit running through my body has only one purpose.
  It creates byproducts like strengthening and projection that are close to that purpose, but that’s all it does.
  ……My Magic Circuit exists solely to take “that which I am missing” and give it shape in this world.

  I grew up in Hector-sama’s laboratories.
  They were his vast workshop, and I was always being made by his servants to participate in numerous tests.
  It was no place for a child.
  When I finally was given a playmate in the form of Rose, she was used as a tool half the time to open the path to my Magic Circuit that lay dormant inside my body.
  …It wasn’t time yet.
  I wasn’t fully mature yet.
  So I forgot all about what my body was supposed to be and my mind smoothed over the inconsistencies and the things that the adults around me said, all for my own protection.
  It’s quite amazing what the mind does to protect itself.
  …It wasn’t time yet.
  The “thing” inside me was still in the middle of gestation.
  It matured very slowly as I grew, and gained power from my life as an incomplete being.

  …Truly.
  It is such a perversion of the natural system.
  …In the end, I’m a fake too.
  But if you put the numbers next to each other, they would match the originals.

  This is just like another one of the experiments.
  I want to laugh.
  I want to cry.
  …In the end, aside from being here to fill up the numbers, my body was being put through another test, to see if my potential would mature and show itself.
  And now my body is ready to produce and give birth to the “thing” inside me.
  It’s ready to complete itself.

  “—Why is one of the Magi in a place like this?”
  A familiar voice.
  A familiar voice filled with suspicion and hate.

  My vision clears at the sound.
  My eyes are filled with blur, but I am able to lift my head and make out the vague shape of Lancer, who is facing down — with his Diviner in hand.

  …The sight of the lance makes my body heat up.
  I feel sick.
  ……I feel sick.

  A sound of faint curiosity and amusement.
  “—That’s funny.
  “That he should have called one such as you.
  “—Well, like calls to like, as they say.
  “Stand back, Lancer. Your Master is awakening now.”

  Softly.
  My body remembers Lancer’s memories.

  —If I were born naturally.
  Are you saying I would have lived like that too—?

  “That is correct, Ein.
  “If you had been born and not created, born in this man’s time, you would have experienced the same hell as him.
  “—I see you’ve begun to realize. Huh, so you are not entirely hopeless.
  “Still, you will not open it all the way.
  “Must I do everything for you?”

  —Stop.

  “You are a being very much like a homunculus, but more perfectly made.
  “On the outside, you are indistinguishable from humans.
  “The inside of your body remembers at its core that you have always been made up of orichalcum, the precious mineral that has become difficult to find even in the world of the gods.
  “—That’s right. I’ve been attempting this for what amounts to centuries now, but in the end, I have finally succeeded in creating one.
  “My own Grim Angel, an ‘artificial angel without wings’.
  “—My Servant informed me quite well.
  “We were beginning to wonder if the natural laws had turned our success into a failure after all, but in your time of need, your body was able to resolve itself and call it.”

  —A sword like lightning in my hands.
  The memories lose their protective covering and I am forced to look at the truth.

  At the time, I was just desperate.
  But I was able to open the body that wasn’t yet ready and call the sacred sword.
  The sword made up of the wings I had forgotten.

  “—Ein.”

  I can hear the sound of footsteps and a warm presence kneels beside me.
  My vision clears and I see Lancer’s concerned face.

  …That’s right.
  It’s like I told Rose.
  If I’m really an artificial Grim Angel, then so what?
  It just means that I understand the tools at my disposal better.
  If giving birth to a Diviner hurts, then fine.
  —Rose was made to go through so much worse.
  —The hell that Lancer went through makes this look like nothing.
  Roswell and Vienya and Nessiah all had to lose their Servants.
  Compared to that, my pain is nothing.
  …I still have to fight.
  That man.
  He called Caster his Servant.
  He said that he’s the one who did this to Primea.
  …Even if it’s this man, I won’t forgive him.

  “—Hmph.”
  From the temple, he looks down at us.
  “How boring. It seems I’ll have to discard you after all.
  “—Well, at any rate, the Grail has long since reached its saturation point.
  “Tonight, when the advent comes, all that remains is to drench it in the blood of the eighth Servant, and its power shall overflow.
  “—That power is all I need now.
  “After all, without that power, it shall take another million lifetimes in the world of men to claim the chair that has been left empty.”

  He smiles.
  He smiles emptily, like a benediction of death.

  “—Caster and I will go to retrieve the vessel now.
  “If you are interested in gambling for the Holy Grail, then bring your Servant to the Tohsaka workshop after nightfall.
  “—There, we will decide which of our Servants shall be laid upon the altar to have its throat cut as the final sacrifice.”

  …My creator.
  Hector fades into the darkness and disappears.

  “—”
  Even returned to my senses, I feel like I’m going to be sick.
  Too late.
  I understand it now, and it’s too late.

  “—Ein?”
  The Holy Grail doesn’t fill up proportionately to the number of Servants killed.
  The Holy Grail is filled with the blood of those Servants.
  The power to grant any wish comes from the massive amounts of prana taken from every Servant killed.
  …And Hector wants that power.
  I don’t know why.
  But if he wants a vast amount of power, then this war was of course the perfect chance.
  The incomplete endings to the fourth and fifth wars left massive amounts of prana behind.
  That was what pulled the curtain back open so quickly.
  That was why something as absurd as nine Servants appearing was allowed.
  I don’t know why Hector wants the Holy Grail.
  He said something about filling an empty seat, but everything I think about either doesn’t make sense or is so blasphemous that not even Hector would attempt such a thing.

  All I know is that I can’t forgive him.
  He brought me and those girls into this place to die.
  He took advantage of the deaths of heroes simply for his own sake.

  …There’s no way a wish like that could be worthy.
  There’s no way such a thing can be allowed.
  Lancer’s wish.
  —I’ll crush that man and Caster, and I’ll grant it.
  I can’t change everything that’s come up to this point.
  But I can make sure that all the sacrifices that have led up to this moment…, aren’t squandered on something so pointless.

  …We leave that place full of death.
  My body is still unsteady, and Lancer supports me as we walk.
  We’ll settle this tonight.
  But until then, I need to sit down and rest, and have Lancer teach me how to use my Diviner.
  The sword that’s inside my body, sleeping, ready to be brought into this world.

  Carefully, we turn the corner and reach Roswell’s house.

    …The door is open.

  I forget my tiredness.
  I forget the bleak feel of my body struggling to accept the truth and run.
  The house smells cold and feels fragile.
  It’s not as dark and death-filled as the catacomb… but this place smells of blood.

  I run.
  Into the living room.
  I run without even taking off my shoes.

  “—You’re late.”

  “…Rose…”

  …The room.
  Everything is smeared with blood and various furniture is knocked over and destroyed.
  Rose is leaning back on the couch with strained breathing, her hand covering a wound in her diaphragm.

  …Vienya.
  She’s lying on a chair with several injuries hastily bandaged and does not seem conscious.
  Roswell is sitting against the wall, with smears leading to a large bloodstain near him, and is not moving.

  “L-Lancer, the first aid kit…”
  Footsteps tell me that he’s departed.

  “—It’s fine.
  “I’ve already treated these two, and my wounds aren’t that deep, so I can fix them myself if you let me.
  “Don’t move Roswell. He hit his head and when he wakes up he might have a concussion, so I have to take another look at him after the healing kicks in.”

  Even like this, Rose keeps talking like normal, as if this is no big deal.

  “—Besides, Ein.
  “There’s something way more important than that to deal with.”

  …I don’t know or understand any of this.
  But it’s clear that I just have to listen to Rose now, since she’s the most calm in this situation.
  “…Did Hector do this?”

  Rose closes her eyes and gives a pained smile.
  “—No, Caster did.
  “They were both here just a little while ago. That guy tore down the shields and then she came in after him.
  “We tried to fight, but it was useless against them. We’re probably just lucky nobody died, but… Ein, they took Nessiah with them.”

  …Nessiah?
  Come to think of it… he hasn’t been moved from this room since we first came here.
  And I don’t see him anywhere.

  “The way that his body reacted to everything… I might be wrong, but I think he may have something to do with summoning the Holy Grail.
  “They’ll be at the Tohsaka place tonight. You and Lancer have to stop them no matter what.”

  …It appears that Rose has also realized what Hector is.
  She’s smarter than me, so I bet she’s already worked out most of it.

  “—All right. We’ll do it. So don’t you worry about a thing, Rose.”

  She laughs.
  “—You sound pretty dependable all of a sudden.
  “Talking kind of hurts, so I think I’m going to take a nap for a bit…”

  …And then she closes her eyes.
  Despite her injury, she closes her eyes and goes to sleep whole-heartedly.
  I can tell that she’s not in danger of dying.
  …And just as she said, neither is anyone else.
  Lancer and I bandage her wounds and decide that we’d better let her rest.

  …Time passes.
  Slowly and surely, time flows as the world approaches night.
  We clean up the house and talk about what it means to be a Grim Angel.
  …It turns out that Lancer was able to recognize my Diviner for what it was yesterday.
  We talk about what it can do and how to use it.
  After a while, I use the things that are in the pantry to make dinner.
  They say that those who don’t eat before battle are eaten by battle, and so I don’t want to take that chance.

  …Finally.
  After Lancer and I sit side by side in comfortable silence for nearly an hour, the sun goes down and the world becomes bathed in blue.
  “—Let’s go.”
  I say softly.
  “—Yes.”
  A quiet voice answers back.

  …The sky is like dark blue velvet with tiny jewels scattered across its surface.
  The moon is distant and bright and there are no clouds anywhere.
  No one is outside.

  Lancer and I walk together through town and across the bridge.
  …When we get into Miyama, it feels like something vast and light is fluttering under my feet.
  The feeling of something wondrous waiting to happen.
  This must be the energy of the Holy Grail.

  It’s a beautiful clear night.
  …I remember as we pass through the streets how we fought the Riders the night that Lancer was summoned.
  That was when we first met Roswell and Saber, too.

  …Eventually, we turn toward the district filled with Western houses.
  The gate to the Tohsaka estate is open.
  It’s a grand and imposing building, and the path to the basement is open.

  …We head down.

  It’s vast.
  Almost the size of a gymnasium.
  …Down at the far end, there is a vast summoning circle, and hovering several yards over a stage is a glowing circle, connected to a bare human figure.
  …Hector is standing there beneath it.

  But before that.
  The figure of Caster blocks the way.

  “—”
  Caster stands with her staff in her hands and faithfully blocks the path to her Master.

  “—Get out of the way.”
  I order her.
  I order her with everything I have.
  “—If you’re his Servant, then you should know what that man is. So move.”

  Caster simply closes her eyes.
  “—Silence, whelp.
  “Any child who says as much has no understanding of the natural order of things.
  “Do you even know who that man is?”

  “—Of course I know.
  “That’s Hector, the man who made me and is trying to control this Holy Grail War—”
  Before I can say anything else.
  Lancer steps past me.

  “That man is one of the Seven Magi who govern the heavens in the absence of the gods.
  “And he is a traitor of the worst order.
  “In life, you were one of the guardians, were you not—? Then you should know better than anything else what that man has twisted the world into.”

  Caster’s calm expression does not change.
  “—Tool.
  “Do not speak to me of such things.”
  …On the face of that woman, I see the same arrogance that I observed on the people surrounding Lancer in his memories.
  She looks upon us as Grim Angels to be nothing more than an insignificant subclass, not even true living beings.

  Lancer readies his Noble Phantasm, and I hang back.

  “From birth to death, angels exist only to perpetuate the gods’ order.
  “And the Magi are those who govern that order.
  “There could be no higher honor than to serve the Magi with one’s life and death!”

  …Caster stretches out her arms, and bolts of lightning stipple the stone of the ground.
  Lancer pivots and evades, rushing through to clash against Caster’s staff.

  Lancer’s magical resistance is strong.
  So even if he is hit, then it will not be fatal.
  He strikes for Caster’s armor.
  Again and again, evading her magic and striking for her armor.
  Her defense is this strong.
  Her defense is this strong, but Lancer will be able to overpower it if he uses his full strength.

  …I wait.
  I wait and I watch as they become more and more absorbed in their battle.
  …And then.

  Seeing my opening, I dash forward…!!

  At the last moment Caster notices me, but it’s already too late.
  I duck past her and continue to run at full speed towards Hector and the altar.

  “—”
  “—You cannot afford to turn your attention from me.”
  Lancer lets out a loud shout and I can hear the clashing of weapons.
  “—I will show you.
  “Whether or not I am a lowly tool as you say, I will show you how we angels are only meant to serve the will of the gods…!!”

  I leave them behind, trusting Lancer.
  If anyone can handle that monstrous fortress of a Servant, it’s my Lancer.
  All that I need to focus is fighting Hector until Lancer wins.
  If I can, I will destroy him.
  If I can’t, I will weaken him and wait for Lancer’s support.
  Because we cannot let this man have the Holy Grail—

  …As I draw closer.
  The figure suspended at the golden-white void and the void itself become clearer.

  This is the Holy Grail.
  It is already brimming with iridescent colorless fluid like honey.
  And the body suspended above it as though offering a sacrifice…,

  Pale arms stretched out as though crucified.
  A small and thin body with white skin.
  A red magical circle so complex that it hurts my eyes to look at it is burning across every part of that body, from the fingertips to the toes.
  Shoulders, head, and ribcage sag forward.
  …I can hear pained breathing.
  The nude body of the abducted Master arches and convulses as the Holy Grail pulses.

  …I don’t understand it.
  But it appears that Nessiah is being used to open the Grail.

  “—”
  …He’s alive.
  And he’s conscious.
  It must be painful as he continues to struggle in feeble movements.
  In the light of the Grail, I can see sweat on his skin and I hear occasional cries that sound like very hoarse screaming.

  “—He’s holding up rather well, wouldn’t you say?
  “But then, he has already processed the souls of seven Servants.
  “After everything that he has endured thus far, this likely isn’t even a trial; he may actually survive until the Grail is closed.”

  “—You.”
  Hector simply smiles.

  “What the hell are you after?”
  I continue to advance.
  I can’t let anything stop me now.
  “—What the hell is worth toying with all these lives?!”

  Hector looks down at me with an amused face.
  “Didn’t I already say so?
  “—The gods’ seat has stood empty for that long and needs to be filled.
  “I have already created a Grim Angel.
  “All I need now is the rest of the power, and the Holy Grail will grant me that.
  “—This battle is all that I need to ascend to godhood.”

  Hector lifts his hand and begins to speak.
  …If he’s really as old as Lancer claims.
  …Then this spell will be great magic like Caster’s.

  I can’t hesitate.
  I step back and open my Magic Circuit.

  …The firing hammers all crash down, and numerous lanes of magic light up my body.
  I stretch out my hand before me.
  …It hurts.
  It’s like projection but more painful.
  I am literally calling the sword up from the inside of my body.
  The flakes of orichalcum in my blood and bones contract and take form.
  …It was like lightning.
  I trace the half-remembered sword and it comes loose, forming in my hand with a sense of exhilaration.
  “—”
  It’s gold in color and shaped like a jagged bolt of lightning.
  It’s perfectly balanced and very light.
  It feels like a feather in my hand.
  …The sword’s name is Einherjar.
  It’s a Noble Phantasm at the same level as Lancer’s.
  I only barely understand how to use it, but with the sword in my hand I feel more confident.
  …It was made for me.
  …No, it is a part of me.
  This sword was made a part of me in exchange for the wings my body was forced to forget before my birth, when I was still developing.

  —Hector completes his spell and great darkness roars down around me.
  I dodge and my sword swings, almost as though acting without my will behind it.
  …Einherjar cuts through the darkness and I rush forward.

  Curses.
  Great spears of magic.
  They cut my body and blood and pain run down my limbs, the extremity of my sides, my cheeks and forehead.
  But Einherjar’s arc is true and it deflects everything that is thrown at me.
  …I will fight.
  This man.
  This man is an abomination.
  And just past him.
  Just past him is the last key left to the door leading to our future—!!


  “You cannot win.”
  Caster says so in a cold voice.
  Most of her armor has been broken away by now.
  But she stands with her staff held aloft and prepares the killing blow.

  “—”
  Lancer is kneeling.
  His body has been burnt and cut many times by the strikes of magic.
  …But.
  He pushes himself up and his body lifts into the air with a great stroke of his wings.
  Gathering all the power he has left.
  Eliminating every function but “existence”.
  He aims his Noble Phantasm.

  “RIVELLION…!!”
  The incantation.
  It is the ignition key for the most powerful of spells with which the Guardian Angels were gifted by the gods.
  This power is a power that rejects all interference and all life.
  And the Noble Phantasm whose name Lancer still does not know strengthens that spell.
  …That staff.
  There is a great legend attached to that staff, but Lancer cares not for it.

  Great lightning comes rushing down from the ceiling.
  In his state, it is more than powerful enough to erase him.
  But that was simply one gift from the gods.

  Lancer’s entire body…

    …Yes.
    In exchange for his heart,
    Ledah’s entire body became divinity made flesh.

  The safeties and restraints, unable to withstand the rush of power, all snap.

  “LORELEI—!”

  And the power rains down.
  An avalanche of bold red fire.
  A holy baptism that purges everything before it.

  Caster makes no sound.
  …But in that instant, her body is erased into ash.


  …I run.
  If I falter, if I slow, if I trip and fall, everything is done.
  Hector’s attacks are so far beyond my level that he really might as well be a god.
  …But.
  As long as I can deflect the things around me with the slashes of this sword…!

  …Burning in my hands.
  The birth is completed, and the activation key flows into my mind.
  The sword begins to emit vast waves of holy energy, far more than I could ever dream of producing.
  My body follows its motions as it cuts away everything surrounding Hector.

  “—!”
  …He faces me down with a look of disgust.
  And I raise the sword above my head and use every bit of the strength I have to lunge—

    …I won’t make it just with one jump.
    …But I don’t need to.

  “DISARESTA—!!!”

  The rebirth of the ancient line within me.
  …Even if it was made by mortal hands.
  …Even if I am the product of this man.
  It won’t lose to anything.

  As I swing the sword down, everything before me is enveloped in holy light.
  I feel the resistance of Hector’s shields.
  …And I feel that resistance vanish and his body wear away into dust in the all-cleansing wave of energy.

  …………
  ……………It’s over.
  My body sags and my sword disappears.
  For now, that was the best I could do.
  …From the Holy Grail, the colorless power begins to overflow.
  The great power shines brightly.

  “—”
  There is a breaking sound, and Nessiah’s body falls.
  I don’t think, but slide forward on my knees.

  “—Ouch.”
  A thump and a cry of pain as I break his fall with my arms.
  The last time I touched this man, his skin was burning, but his body is cold now.
  …And yet he’s breathing easily.
  I don’t think his life is in danger.

  …From across the stone expanse, Lancer is walking towards me.
  His Noble Phantasm is in hand and his form seems indefinite.

  —No.
  My heart stops as I realize that faint steam is rising from the tips of his outstretched wings.
  Lancer is disappearing.
  After all this, the fight must have used up his last reserves of magical energy.
  Walking and keeping his body together must be all that he can do.

  …The lance in his hand disappears.
  He has to conserve his energy just to keep moving.
  I can’t speak.
  My throat is frozen and my voice won’t come out.
  Slowly.
  So slowly that I think it will kill me.
  Lancer mounts the stairs to the altar and stands beneath the Holy Grail.

  “—”
  He stares at it.
  As the steam eats away at the edges of his wings and the tips of his hair.
  Lancer stares up at the Holy Grail.
  …I don’t know what he’s considering or what’s going through his mind.
  He just stares at it.

  …He doesn’t have any more time to waste.
  But I can’t tell him that.
  That is something that Lancer would know more than anyone else.

  After an eternity.
  Lancer closes his eyes and lifts his arms.
  And the great shining power pours down as if to bless his entire body.