The fated hour arrived all too soon, as the curtains finally closed on the event known to some as the Holy Grail War. The efforts of the past two weeks culminated into one final battle, a conflict that would decide the fate of Humanity as a whole.

As he prepared to head out and meet whatever awaited him, Shirou Emiya made the rounds for what could be the last time. The lights inside his home flickered off one-by-one, until darkness pervaded every room. Silence took hold as he stepped outside and locked the door behind him, speaking a quiet farewell to the home that was the source of many happy memories.

Outside, the stars glistened like diamonds in the night sky. A crescent moon cast a pale glow across the sprawling estate and the land it occupied, turning everything milky-white. With dawn a few hours away, the city around him was still in the midst of slumber, leaving the world around him quiet, serene.

It would have been a terrible night to die.

He was not without hope that a miracle might happen that night, but in his heart, he knew the odds were against him. That's not to say that he was weak, far from it. The fortnight gone had seen him grow as both a man and a Magus, more so than he had in the last ten years. It was just that the foe he and his allies were about to face was that much greater.

So as he wandered out into his yard, he was far from soothed by the calming atmosphere. Instead, nervous tension filled every fibre of his being. Still, there wasn't a shred of hesitation within him. The plan was set and everything was arranged… all he could do was fulfil his intended role.

"...Huh?"

He was not alone in the shadowed yard. Gazing up at the night sky, two familiar figures stood side-by-side. The dark-haired maiden, clothed in her signature red and black outfit, was a longstanding acquaintance of his, someone whom he had only recently come to know properly. The golden-haired girl beside her was someone who had only come into his life two weeks or so ago, but had quickly become irreplaceable.

Regardless of the length of time that he had known them, he had come to care for them both dearly. For all the trials that they had endured together, they had also had their moments of joy. The late-night strategy meetings, the meals they had shared together... fleeting instances of levity all, but enough to light up their world in what should have been their darkest hours. Though they caused him no end of grief, he grudgingly admitted that the two of them had wormed their way into his heart.

"About time, slowpoke! Did you think we had all the time in the world or what?"

If only the prickly Magus would stop saying things like that. She would be so much more charming if that was the case.

"Ah, sorry Rin. I just wanted to take everything in before we left," Shirou apologised.

Translation: he wanted to say goodbye to the home he might not return to.

The look the blond-haired Saber gave him was one of sympathy. "I understand… I have been doing much the same."

Her reply was gentle, so it's likely she was thinking the same thing he was. Figures she would be hesitant to leave without so much as a look back… the building behind them held almost as much significance for her as it did him. This place had been her staging ground for two back-to-back Grail Wars, two very trying times she had been forced to endure in pursuit of her dream— though thankfully her second experience had been overall much more positive than her first.

However, unlike him, there was no possibility that she would ever return here. Even if they won tonight's battle, the artefact sustaining Saber would disappear and banish her back to her own time. The immutable laws of the ritual they were a part of wouldn't allow her to stay, even if she wanted to.

Rin's expression softened a little following Saber's sentence. Then, looking away with a sigh—

"Well… I guess I can't begrudge you that."

A comfortable silence fell between them as they all gave the building one last warm glance.

"It's been quite the ride, hasn't it?"

"Indeed it has," Saber affirmed, readily glossing over Rin's uncharacteristic honesty. "All things considered, I am glad I was given the opportunity to return to this time, if only to meet the two of you. It's been a pleasure to fight by your side."

"The pleasure is all ours, Saber," replied Shirou.

A gentle smile settled on Saber's face. "You have a habit of underselling your own deeds, Shirou… you really should give yourself credit where credit is due."

The moment the light-hearted admonishment leaves her lips, Saber's smile takes on a wistful tone. "Since this is to be our last battle together, may I make one last request?"

"Of course."

"It should go without saying that I will protect you with all I have. So when the sun rises on the new day, please come back to this house together."

An awful lot of spluttering and stuttering ensued following that rather suggestive request, but regardless, they both agreed to do so. For Shirou, a simple 'yes' was enough to convey his intentions. But in Rin's case…

"I still have a lot to do with my supervisor responsibilities, so there's no way I can just move in here! But I suppose I can visit if I have time..."

—Was what she said.

Without a single word being exchanged, the three of them set off for Ryuudou Temple.

Knowing that they had little time to waste, they opted to take the most direct route, forgoing all attempts at secrecy in favour of speed. Their footsteps rang out loudly in the near-silence and every time the cold illumination of the street lights passed overhead, they were reminded that they were nearing their destination. The enormity of what they were about to do started to settle in, an overbearing weight on their minds that only grew as time went on.

"Let's go over the plan one last time," Rin said out of the blue.

They had done so a dozen times already, but discussing it one more time was better than being left to their own thoughts.

"The goal is to destroy the Grail before its corruption spills out and kills everyone. Of course, the King of Heroes will try to stop us, so it'll be up to you Saber to keep him occupied. Rush in from the front and engage him. Meanwhile, Shirou and I will sneak in the back and go for the Grail. As soon as we destroy it, we'll come and support you. Shirou will neutralise Gilgamesh's Noble Phantasms with his projections, then either I or Saber can finish him off."

It was pretty straightforward, as far as plans go. But…

"I know we didn't have a lot of time to prepare, but I wish we could have come up with something a little more foolproof than this," Shirou voiced.

"It can't be helped, Shirou," Rin shot back. "We don't have enough pieces to pull out anything more elaborate. This is the best chance we have to win this."

"Indeed. Also, you underestimate my capabilities, Shirou," Saber grouched. Her expression was such that it could almost be referred to as a pout. "With the amount of magical energy Rin is feeding me, I can easily fight that Archer to a standstill."

Rin hummed approvingly, the corner of her mouth rising just a little. Then her brows furrowed slightly as a thought came to mind. "Speaking of magical energy… how are you feeling, Shirou?"

"Hmm? Oh…"

He reflexively raised his hand to his left shoulder, to where Rin had transplanted her family's Magic Crest onto him. They had only completed the transferral ritual an hour or so ago, yet the Crest had melded with him so seamlessly that he could barely feel its presence beyond a slight tingling.

As silly as it was, Shirou felt more than a little guilty. It may have been done out of necessity, but the fact remained that Rin had taken the combined magics of her ancestors, a work of many generations—

And given it to him.

The priceless legacy of the Tohsaka dynasty had been reduced to little more than a simple circuit, a conduit to transfer power. A conduit through which Rin was now feeding him her magical energy.

That was two sins right there, he thought. But while it was an outrageous thing to do, it gave them a chance of victory. His own pitiful reserves wouldn't have been nearly enough to face off against Gilgamesh. But with Rin's as well…?

It was a chance where before there had been none. They would just have to take that chance and turn it into a certainty.

"I feel fine," Shirou answered. "Better than I have in a long time, actually."

"I see… that's good," Rin murmured. An expression of relief flashed across her face before she managed to school her features. "I wasn't quite sure if I was balancing the mana outputs correctly, but since you haven't spontaneously combusted yet I'll take that as a sign that I'm not overdoing things."

Shirou chuckled dryly at that. "Funny. Didn't know you could make jokes like that."

Rin's eyes rose to meet his, but flicked away quickly.

"Wait… that was a joke, right?"

No answer.

A cold sweat broke out across Shirou's back. Please at least say something!

His silent thought prayer went unanswered and they continued on in silence.

Just as Shirou was about to descend into madness, Rin nudged him with her elbow.

"Listen… I know this is pretty last minute, but I wanted to give you something."

Without waiting for a response, she stuck her hand in her pocket, withdrawing a small roundish item which she held out to him in the palm of her hand. Confused, he took a closer look at it. It was no larger than a pebble and slightly see-through. As he tilted his head, it gleamed under the harsh light overhead, both reflecting and refracting the light. Judging from the tinted image it cast across Rin's skin, it clearly had more than a few imperfections in its structure.

"It's… very pretty."

Rin glared at him, unamused. "I'm sure it is. But that's not why I'm giving it to you."

"Huh? Then why?"

"So you can use it, idiot. This is one of the few gems I have left… my first, even. Apparently I was a lot more sentimental when I was younger and decided to keep it as a memento. It won't be much use to me, since it doesn't contain much power, but it might be of use to you."

"But I can't—"

"—Use jewel Magecraft. Ordinarily, you would be right, but I modified this one so even you could use it. Just don't go expecting it to work miracles, it took me a long time to get good at what I do."

That helped clear things up, at least. Even so, Shirou was a little taken aback… until he looked Rin in the face.

"I see… thanks for thinking about me."

"Yes, well, of course... I wasn't going to let you go in there without a few contingencies." Rin huffed, tossing her hair.

"Oh, contingencies. Gotcha… I should have known you'd be so pragmatic about it."

Saber looked on with mild curiosity, before zeroing in on something. "Are you feeling alright, Rin? Your ears are turning red."

"I— I'm quite alright, thank you!" Rin choked out. "More importantly, we need to get moving."

The suddenly flustered Tohsaka heir burst into a trot, forcing the other two to pick up the pace.

Shirou ran a thumb over the jewel in his hand, feeling the store of magic power just beneath the surface. Then it suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea how to draw that power out in the first place.

"Er, Rin? How exactly am I supposed to use this?"

"...The common practice is to use a verbal command in German. Normally, I'd visualise the spell I want to cast and use a suitable trigger word. 'Aktivieren' maybe?"

Shirou blinked. "I… don't think I can even attempt to repeat that."

"Then say anything you want. Magecraft is all about self-hypnosis anyway... as long as you have the power and a clear image of what you want to achieve with that power, then you can make it a reality."

Rin turned to face him for the first time in several minutes. "To be honest, I don't think you'll even need to use it. But it will make a nice souvenir after we finish this. When you're old, you can look at that jewel and go, 'ah, this reminds me of that time where I narrowly avoided death multiple times'. How great will that be?"

She smiled then, as if that morbid joke was the funniest thing she had ever said.

Looking back on it, it was clear that Rin was trying her best to reassure him. She knew full well what they were heading into, but regardless, she put on a brave face. Not for herself, but for him.

Little did she know that things would go the opposite of how she'd hoped.

It was a sight of a desperate battle. The ordinarily immaculate temple grounds were littered by innumerable swords, shards of iron and steel haphazardly embedded into the earth. Most of the paving slabs had been cracked as if struck with great force, throwing up a cloud of dust that contaminated the air.

Shirou heaved ragged breath after ragged breath, already near-exhausted from the fight he shouldn't have had to partake in.

Just as they had planned, the operation began just before the break of dawn… however, things had fallen apart almost immediately. When he and Rin had finally located the Grail, he had been waiting for them; the golden-haired Servant that should have been held at bay by Saber. Where the waylaid Servant had ended up, they didn't know, but it resulted in the impromptu plan of Shirou charging headlong at Gilgamesh so Rin could wade into the lake and tackle the Grail.

And Shirou had proven to be a more than adequate distraction. He had thrown himself at the Servant with all his might and lured him to this courtyard with probing attacks and well-worded taunts.

It had worked even better than he'd expected, as Gilgamesh had blindly followed him here and ignored Rin entirely. It was almost as if it hadn't even registered her as a threat to his plan— was that an indication of a less-than-stellar estimation of her abilities, or his faith in the Grail's resilience? Either way, Shirou knew that to be a mistake.

After that, their 'battle' had quickly descended into a game of cat and mouse. Unable to match the Servant's rate of attack with his projections, Shirou had been forced into a position of pure defence. Gilgamesh had been wary of that at first, possibly suspecting that Shirou might pull some trick out of his sleeve. But as time wore on without Shirou showing signs of anything unexpected, the man seemed to grow increasingly frustrated— furious even. That had worked in Shirou's favour in a way, but given that his enemy's rate of fire had increased as a result, he had also been pushed to his limit and forced to use Rin's gem as a distraction.

Under a cloud of magically-induced mist, Shirou had made a hasty retreat, the powdered remains of the now-spent crystal dusting his fingertips. The cloud had dissipated all too quickly, but it had given Shirou enough time to take shelter behind one of the temple's outbuildings and recompose himself.

The King of Heroes bellowed angrily in the near distance, demanding that he show his face, yet Shirou kept out of sight. His only goal was to stall for time, something which would actually be much easier if he could avoid direct confrontation. His own personal tastes aside, he still found sneaking around like a thief preferable to dodging high-speed telekinetically-thrown swords.

It would all be over soon, either way. While he had no idea how Rin was faring against the Grail and the toxic sludge it was spewing out, he had faith that she would pull through. A few minutes more should be all she needed.

Especially given that Saber was on her way.

Though Shirou was no longer connected to her as her Master, he was still attuned to her energy to a frightening degree. Even if he hadn't been, the aura of power she radiated under Rin's command made her hard to miss, since she lacked the control needed to fully conceal her overwhelming magical reserves.

Whatever it was that had held her up must have been dealt with. There was just one problem.

She's going the wrong way, Shirou thought.

Instead of heading towards Rin to destroy the Grail, she was heading towards him and the enemy he was currently keeping occupied.

"Damn it, Saber, get your head straight!" Shirou groaned, leaping out of cover.

Saber arrived an instant later, literally storming up the steps as the air whistled in her wake. Her normally invisible sword was bared for all to see, her jaw set in a determined expression as her gaze landed on her opponent.

Gilgamesh became aware of her a mere fraction of a second later, his eyes widening in shock as he realised she was far too close for comfort. He leapt back quickly, eager to put more distance between them, yet Saber was quicker still. The space between them halved in the blink of an eye, her sword raised to cut him down and end the battle before it even began.

That one moment illustrated the stark difference between them. While the former Archer preferred to fight at range, Saber charged headlong into danger, throwing her all into a bullheaded attack.

It was clear that her physical parameters far outstripped that of the former Archer. That— combined with his over-reliance on his arsenal of weaponry— meant that, try as he might, he simply could not match her in close-quarters combat.

But that didn't mean he was helpless. One could not reach the lofty heights of a Servant by being weak and he was theorised to be the strongest of all Servants. The King of Heroes would not be so easily bested by anyone, not even her.

Golden glimmers appeared in the air as Gilgamesh prepared his counter-attack; thirty portals through which a plethora of legendary weapons emerged. With a single glance, Shirou could tell that their quality far exceeded anything the Servant had used thus far. Evidently Saber qualified as enough of a threat for him to get relatively serious.

The knight hesitated a mere instant as the weapons appeared all around her, practically caging her in. The question running through her mind was clear to see: continue the attack, or evade?

She chose the latter, just as Shirou knew she would. Guided by her instincts, she threw herself towards the only viable opening and positioned her sword across her body to shield herself.

It wouldn't be enough. With her nigh-unrivalled skill with a sword and her insane reflexes, she could no doubt block most of the weapons that Gilgamesh had prepared. But most was not all— there was simply no way she could hope to intercept each one before they could reach her, not when the distance between them was so short.

Saber was tough, but not invincible. She could heal any non-mortal wound with Avalon's aid, but that process was not instantaneous. One serious wound would impede her ability to fight and leave her open to the next attack. Worse, one attack could just as easily be the death of her.

After all they had been through together, Shirou couldn't allow that to happen.

—Trace on—

His magical energy surged, flooding his circuits with power that couldn't possibly be contained by such inferior vessels. His insides burned as he forced himself past his limits in an effort to control more than he had any right to.

From the start, the man known as Shirou Emiya was not supposed to possess such power. A third-rate Magus was all he would ever be, a tiny fish in a very large ocean filled with terrifying monsters. Though his future self had ascended to the Throne of Heroes after toiling away for several decades, even he hadn't been able to do so under his own strength. Logic decreed that Shirou could never be the hero he wanted to be.

But he couldn't accept that. Even as his body cried out in agony, he pushed it even further, forcing even more magical energy through his circuits. In rapid succession, an array of conjured swords took form behind him, hovering in place as if held by an invisible hand. Seventeen blades all-in-all, each one hastily-constructed, yet not in any way inferior in structure to the weapons before him.

Gilgamesh's arms shot forwards at blinding speed.

And in response, Shirou's blades streaked through the air to intercept them.

Sixteen pairs of swords shattered into pieces mid-air, sending shards of steel raining across the battlefield. The final pair merely glanced past each other, sending both original and replica skittering across the ground.

Saber reacted so naturally that you would think she'd foreseen Shirou's timely intervention. All but one of Gilgamesh's weapons missed her as she dodged back, batting aside the only one that would have struck true, catching the weapon with the flat of her blade with a mighty clang. Within a blink of an eye, she interposed herself between Shirou and their enemy, shielding him from any follow-up attacks.

Gilgamesh's face shifted through various expressions, eventually settling on beyond pissed. "So there you are… it was about time you showed up, Saber. I was growing tired of chasing around that little pissant."

Saber points her sword at him threateningly. "Watch your tongue, cur. I won't tolerate such insolence towards my friends."

"For what? I speak nothing but the honest truth! That brat is a blight on this Earth," he spat. "Honestly, it baffles me that you defend him so; he is so far beneath you it's laughable. There is only one man in this world deserving of your loyalty… me."

"You jest, Archer. I would sooner fall on my own sword than associate with the likes of you." She addressed Shirou then, without taking her eyes off the Servant before her. "I'm sorry I'm late, Shirou. Please step back, while I take care of—"

"No," he interjected, placing one hand on her shoulder. "I can take him by myself. Please go and help Tohsaka."

"Wh—"
"—at?"

Two incredulous responses to that bold claim.

"What are you trying to say, Shirou? A magus can't fight a Servant."

Shirou's face didn't display one ounce of hesitation as he stepped past the golden-haired girl. "Ordinarily, you'd be right… but he and I are an exception. If there's one Servant I can beat, it's him."

Naturally, Saber hesitated, torn between her duty and her desire to defend. But after uttering a few words—

"Understood. I will save Rin… good luck."

She turned away and ran without looking back.

In her absence, Shirou stared down the enemy.

A pause, then a breath of wind. The King of Heroes started to laugh uncontrollably, a manic, unhinged sound.

"My, my! You're even more of a fool than I took you for. To so readily give away any chance of victory… you certainly have a death wish, don't you?"

"Not in the slightest. I'm just that confidant I can beat you."

"Oh?" Gilgamesh's eyes flash murderously. "I don't think so. I may have given you a chance to prove yourself after you so brazenly challenged me, but you've done nothing but run and hide since then. It just goes to show that you are just like the rest of your kind: cowardly and weak. I resent that the world has become a place for people like you, when only the strong should be allowed the privilege of life. You don't deserve to be called a mongrel— you are just a rat scurrying around in the dark."

"... A rat, huh? Maybe you're right."

He could barely hear his own response. From the moment he'd fired those swords, he'd lost touch with his own senses. His vision had gone hazy, a vision of a barren wasteland interposed over what was in front of him, his opponent barely visible as a ghostly image.

That hill of swords was a place he recognised, seen both in his dreams and in waking. It was a place where a broken man's dream had gone to die, the final resting place of a man formerly known as Shirou Emiya. That world was a symbol of his ideals, each blade a declaration of his resolve, forged time and time again even as the world turned its back on him.

If he had been able to follow through with his ideal, given all that he had faced, then it goes to reason that Shirou could do just the same.

"Yes… a rat I may be. But here's the thing about that: even a rat bites back when cornered."

It didn't matter if his dream was his own or not. If it was something worth striving for, he would work towards it, no matter what stood in his way. He would not yield, he would not break, for—

"I am the bone of my sword."

The air began to crackle as Rin's magical energy roared through his circuits, tendrils of electricity arcing across his skin.

The King of Heroes roared as dozens of portals appeared around him, catapulting a barrage of weaponry through the air at blinding speed. There was no time to dodge.

"Steel is my body…"

But there was no need to. Reaching out with one hand, Shirou projected his strongest defence. The rain of swords was blocked by an amethyst shield, seven petal-like layers forming a nigh-unbreakable wall.

"...and fire is my blood."

Rho Aias was said to be the ultimate defence against thrown weapons, with each of its layers bearing the strength of a fortress wall. It should have been immune to any assault the Servant could launch against him.

But the weapons Gilgamesh owned were far from ordinary. Each one was a Noble Phantasm, the crystallization of a legendary hero's weapon of choice, immortalised in folklore long after the owner had turned to dust. Even if Gilgamesh was not their true wielder, they had power in their own right.

"I have created over a thousand blades."

The first layer melted before the stream of weapons and peeled away with the sound of shattering glass. Shirou's next words caught in his throat as the backlash struck him directly in his chest, robbing the air from his lungs.

Yet that was not enough to daunt him. After one quick breath, he continued on.

"Unaware of loss,"

Crack

"—Nor aware of gain."

Unable to withstand the sustained attack, the second layer shattered. Blood filled the inside of Shirou's mouth, forcing him to spit it out with his next words.

"Withstood pain to create many weapons, waiting for one's arrival."

The third and fourth layers were destroyed as Gilgamesh concentrated his fire. Even as pain assailed him, it astounded Shirou that his opponent hadn't tried to circumvent his defence by firing from a different direction. Perhaps the King of Heroes was limited in terms of range when he summoned a weapon. It was unlikely he would ever learn the truth of the matter.

"I have no regrets, this is the only path."

Gilgamesh's attack was halted unnervingly close now, as the fifth layer was pierced and the sixth was left to take the brunt. A horrifying death was but a few inches away now.

"My whole life was—"

The required magical energy had been gathered. There was no stopping it now, short of obliterating Shirou entirely.

"—Unlimited Blade Works."

And a torrent of azure flames rushed out from deep inside him, enveloping the courtyard in blinding light.

When the light finally faded, it was a different scene that greeted Gilgamesh's eyes.

The landscape that— unbeknownst to him— had been at the forefront of the brat's mind for the latter half of their 'fight'. Oh, how he loathed to use that word to describe the farce he'd been forced to partake in, but in the absence of a more apt term, that was what he was going with!

Regardless, the brat had finally shown his hand and conjured up a desolate wasteland filled with blades as far as the eye could see.

"A reality marble, hmm?" Gilgamesh muttered. "A nice trick, but don't go thinking this will change anything. There's nowhere left for you to hide, now."

The air behind him rippled as he readied another set of weapons— in greater numbers than he had used thus far.

"This is where it ends, boy. Rejoice, knowing that your efforts will mean nothing."

He raised his hand to give the signal, the trigger that would send his treasures flying and tear the brat asunder, when—

The harsh screeching of metal shearing through metal met his ears.

—And his weapons fell from the sky in a clash of steel.

"...WHAT?"

His jaw dropped as he looked behind him. Amongst the fallen blades were weapons of the magus' creation, mere imitations that seconds before were scattered all around.

Did… did he fire them as I did?

The sound of heavy footfalls bade him to turn back. On reflex, he called on his Gate of Babylon and had it deposit a sword directly into his hand, raising the blade to block the strike he somehow knew was coming.

The attack wasn't all that strong, but the block was awkward and the shock jarring enough to numb his arm. A second strike was delivered by the blade in the brat's offhand and Gilgamesh was forced backwards, several strands of his golden locks tumbling to the ground.

He's fast.

Whilst it wasn't up to a Servant's level, it was certainly more than a mere magus should be capable of. Reinforcement, then.

The former Master struck with reckless abandon, throwing out attacks without rhyme or reason. So erratic was his fighting that Gilgamesh was initially overwhelmed, unable to adapt to a style that seemed to shift every other strike. Almost as if he were incorporating the skills of countless other warriors.

"Damn you… damn you, damn you, damn you!"

The tirade of curses poured out as he parried the boy's blows with increasing force. Deflecting a strike to the side was enough to stagger his opponent and he called on his Gate once more. Three spears appeared in response, lunging forward to skewer the Magus Killer's heir.

But the boy had already dashed back out of range, a bow having appeared in his hand, an arrow already nocked and ready.

An arrow? No… it was so much more than that. The spiral sword of Fergus mac Róich was instantly recognisable even if the brat had somehow twisted it into a projectile.

"...Bugger."

The air in front of him went hazy as a number of portals opened up before him, a number of defensive armaments layered on top of each other. But was it enough?

"Caladbolg."

A shiver ran down his spine as the brat invoked the blade's true name. Then the Broken Phantasm streaked directly towards his face.

The blade shattered on contact with his defences, the energy contained within violently released in an explosion strong enough to rock the heavens. Blistering heat washed over him as fire erupted around him, searing his eyes with blinding light. Dust and clumps of earth roared past him, carried by the shockwave that had left his ears ringing.

Where is he?

The dust cloud had reduced visibility to zero… meaning that he'd lost sight of his opponent.

A flicker of colour was all the warning he got before the former Master ploughed through the dust cloud, sword at the ready. The weapon was modest, a wide silver blade with a bulbous tip; the hilt resplendent gold, but engraved with a simple herringbone pattern. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing special, yet it sliced through his defences as if they were paper.

His slipshod barrier was torn away with the slightest of efforts. There was scarcely time to think, let alone draw another weapon. The ferocity in those bronzed eyes spoke of the boy's resolve, the blade in his hands already blurring into motion as the deathstroke descended.

This strike would be the last. With one blow, Gilgamesh would be torn in two.

To be bested by someone he had looked down upon… how humiliating.

What he'd thought to be a rat had in fact been a lion in rat's clothing.

He raised his arms in a desperate attempt to preserve his life just a little longer. The blade sliced cleanly through his sleeves, bit into his forearms—

Then a light bloomed in the distance. A great wave of magical energy flooded the desolate plain, smashing apart the already-disappearing Reality Marble.

The first rays of the sun appeared on the horizon as the reality marble collapsed around them. Elsewhere on the temple grounds, a light akin to a second sun faded into nothingness.

"Victory is yours. Die with that satisfaction, Faker."

The King of Heroes seemed almost despondent as he delivered those words. He was relatively uninjured, with only a few tears on his clothes, still smoking from the blast of Shirou's Broken Phantasm. If anything, his pride had been hurt more than his body.

"It's over, Gilgamesh. If you won't concede, this won't end well for you. Walk away."

"Don't think you can so easily best me. You may have foiled my plans this time, but there are alternate means of achieving my goal. I will find a way… but first, I will have your head."

A hundred weapons surrounded Shirou, all primed and ready to end his life in a heartbeat. No matter how he looked at it, he was caged in, with no chance of escape.

Can Rho Aias hope to defend against this many?

Maybe, if he threw himself to the ground and put the shield over him like an oversized neon blanket. More likely the shield would shatter long before Gilgamesh exhausted his arsenal of weaponry. But it was still his best chance.

He loaded the mental blueprint into his circuits, gathering up the energy needed to give it form, when suddenly—

"Ah—" Gilgamesh's face contorted into a pained grimace.

Then a black hole opened up in his chest.

The golf-ball sized sphere expanded rapidly, pulling in everything around it like… well, a black hole. Being at the epicentre of the phenomenon, Gilgamesh was helpless to its effects and was quickly swallowed up by it. His desperate cries went unanswered as he disappeared from sight.

Is the Grail collapsing in on itself?

Shirou quickly backed away from the ominous ball of death that he didn't want anything to do with. However, he didn't do so anywhere near quick enough.

A chain quickly whipped out from beyond the black void and latched onto his arm. By the time he realised he needed to resist, he was nearly dragged off his feet, as something on the other end reeled him in. Shirou instinctively sought a weapon with which to sever the chain, but one glance was enough to tell him such an attempt would be futile. The Chains of Heaven wouldn't be broken by anything other than the strongest of Noble Phantasms.

Like a scene out of a horror movie, Gilgamesh slowly emerged from the hole left by the Grail. First his hand— clutching the chain with a death grip— followed by the crown of his head, then his eyes; his eyes promised a death more gruesome than anything Shirou could concoct in a hundred years.

"Ku— blasted thing! A Servant cannot be your core, release me!"

The King of Heroes wrestled for freedom even as the Grail's remnants dissolved his body. Equally desperate to escape, Shirou clawed at the chain that entangled him, to no avail.

"Damn it… are you trying to drag me in with you?"

"Fool! I have no intention of dying here. Prove to me that you're more than a steaming pile of excrement and stay there while I pull myself out!"

"You think I'd let you?"

Shirou dug his heels into the dirt, his shoulder screaming in protest as the increased strain threatened to tear his arm from his socket. Truthfully, the rest of his body was in no better condition; he had enough bone fractures to cosplay as a victim of a hit-and-run and more torn muscles than an Olympic athlete after a hundred back-to-back sprints. It was a miracle he was even able to stand up, never mind play tug-of-war with a Servant.

In his compromised physical state, there wasn't much he could do but stand his ground. It was because he did so that he was able to watch Gilgamesh's slow, but sure advance. Inch by inch, the greatest threat of the Fifth Holy Grail War was escaping what would ultimately be a sure death. The pockmarks on his skin were already healing over, his body restoring itself to prime condition.

...If he escapes, we won't be able to beat him.

With the Grail destroyed, they couldn't rely on Saber to save the day. It would just be himself and Rin— two mere mortals who weren't in any condition to continue fighting, against a literal demi-god.

It would be a massacre.

When Shirou thought about his ally— his loved one— being left subject to the no-doubt brutal torture methods of the Servant before him, he just knew. He could not let that happen.

In a bizarre twist, he reached out and grabbed the chain that bound him. Then before he had a chance to doubt his decision, he dashed forwards.

"Wha—" Gilgamesh's face froze as the chain in his hand went slack. But his expression quickly turned to one of horror when he realised Shirou was barreling towards him. "Wai—"

"It ends here, Gilgamesh," Shirou tackled the Servant. "For you… and me."

Both Servant and magus were carried into the void by means of Shirou's own momentum and promptly disappeared from sight. Having already swelled to a rather impressive size, the void shrank back down to its original size once more, before disappearing entirely.

In the absence of the two combatants, calm settled over the now-decimated courtyard, still marred by the weapons left behind. A few rays of sunlight managed to filter through the surrounding woodland, birds filling the air with their songs. The overly-enthusiastic trilling was hushed for but a brief moment as something— or rather someone stepped out of the undergrowth. A lone man emerged out into the courtyard, looking rather worse for wear. His armour was cracked and broken, the red cloak loosely draped around his shoulders in tatters. Frankly, he looked like a man who had been fighting for far too long— even the apathetic look in his eyes said as much.

Looking over to where the Grail had swallowed his younger self, Archer simply sighed. "You really were an impulsive brat. Couldn't you have just waited a few more seconds?"

For obvious reasons, his question went unanswered. Not that he was expecting one— it was rhetorical after all— but that's beside the point.

"Just what am I supposed to tell Rin?" he groused. Now that was somebody who was not going to be happy to find out what had happened here. For some reason that he couldn't quite fathom, this particular version of Rin had appeared quite fond of the little brat— though she would never admit how much he meant to her to anyone.

Maybe it was best to just not say anything. Yes, it didn't exactly sit well with him to take the coward's way out like that, but at the end of the day, he was about to fade away after yet another failed attempt to kill himself and remove himself from the constant cycle of reincarnation and the unpleasant business that it entailed. Surely he could cut himself some slack.

Actually… speaking of killing himself.

He turned his gaze to the sky at that point, his expression hopeful— nay expectant. But as the seconds ticked by with nothing but the gradual fading of his body resulting from his mana exhaustion to show for it, his face sank back into its usual scowl.

Clicking his tongue, he went off to track down a certain ill-tempered magus.

Inside a hollow world, he stirred.

Consciousness returned after what felt like an eternal slumber. Though in truth it may not have been that long since he'd last awakened… the passage of time was a hard thing to follow in that place.

It was a realm devoid of both light and sound. It was hard to tell anything more about that place, as it simultaneously felt incredibly confining, yet so large as to be boundless. As far as he could tell, the entirety of his being was stretched across that endlessly limited space, infused with it even, to the point that he could not tell where it ended and he began.

Perhaps it was for that reason that he struggled to recall what— who he was. It was as if he was barely holding together, his semblance of self falling apart at the seams.

So it was with great surprise that he found he had the presence of mind to notice he was no longer alone in the void. There was another— no, two other entities here with him.

He drew closer to the newcomers in an attempt to glean more about them. There was no way for him to see them per se, but he could still sense them, catch a glimpse of the essence by the way they influenced the world around them.

One was a Servant with divine blood running through his veins, the other a mortal man bearing the distinct taste of magic. Unlike him, they possessed corporeal bodies— which were rapidly disintegrating in the less-than-hospitable void.

Yes, he remembered now. Much of what he had forgotten was now becoming clear, his thoughts gradually coming into focus. This god-forsaken place was none other than the inside of the Holy Grail, which in itself was little more than a swirling vortex of magical energy in its current state. Any alien entities that managed to enter it were quickly broken down and assimilated into it… which was to be the rather unfortunate fate of his two guests.

It was an event not too dissimilar to when a Servant is slain during a Holy Grail War, except for the fact that a Servant would have already transformed back to their spiritual state by the time they entered the Grail. The fact that the two of them had somehow entered the Grail within their own bodies made the process rather more painful.

That was the point where the Grail provided him with a rather interesting bit of information: that the young human boy had participated as a Master in the Fifth Grail War. Which in itself was strange because he hadn't even been made aware that a Grail War had started, given that none of the participants had even attempted to make a wish of the Grail. Even more interestingly, the Grail seemed rather conflicted about what to do regarding that matter.

The artifact that the Fuyuki Grail Wars revolved around was a rather peculiar thing. Despite being magical in origin, one could make an argument that it vaguely resembled those machines mortal men seemed to worship with great fervor: that being the device known as a 'computer'. It had been designed for a specific function, programmed to accumulate magical energy with the express purpose of granting wishes— or so most people believed. Much like a machine, it followed these instructions to the letter, as it was designed to do and as such, never made mistakes.

That is, until it encountered an unforeseen circumstance, something it had not been programmed to do. In this case, there were two such issues: first of all, the one who should have been the winner had used all their command seals at the last possible moment, eliminating her from the competition. With no remaining Masters to select from, the Grail had chosen the participant it deemed to be the most worthy— which happened to be the poor soul currently enshrined inside itself. And frankly, the Grail did not know what to do about that.

He pondered the dilemma for a moment. The Grail wished to fulfill the young man's wish, but in its inability to get past a metaphorical bug in its system, it wasn't able to do that. The question was, what exactly did this young man wish for?

As the young man was slowly broken down, a small portion of his essence 'leaked out', giving him a glimpse of his nature. When he peered into the boy's mind, he caught a glimpse of a world where misfortune and injustice existed only as concepts. It was a world without conflict and strife, where everyone could live in harmony.

The word 'utopia' didn't even begin to describe it.

He couldn't say for sure why that vision caught his interest the way it did, but something about it made him take action. Due to his rather unique connection to the Grail, he had the ability to direct its power however he saw fit. The fact that he hadn't done so before was more to do with the fact that he himself was a prisoner here, lacking even a glimpse of the outside world, except for that brief window when someone made a wish of the Grail.

With the abundance of energy the Grail possessed after being left unused from the day of its creation, he certainly had the power to make that dream a reality. A single thought could bring it into being. But where was the fun in that? What is a story without a little adventure?

No, there was a far better way of going about that. He knew from the boy's scattered thoughts that he believed that world to be an impossible goal, something to be endlessly pursued but never actualised. Perhaps that was true in his own world… but what if that wasn't the case? What if he arranged the pieces in such a way that that dream became something within reach?

The current world wasn't conducive to that goal. The victor's strength wasn't sufficient to become the hero he wanted to be… not in that environment. But elsewhere?

If he had the capacity to smile at that moment, he would have. It was decided in a heartbeat— he would send them to a place befitting of the victor's idealistic ways. Somewhere where he could take his talents and flourish.

As he decided on a plan of action, he made a few slight adjustments, before opening up a path and sending the victor on his way. But not before he placed a fragment of himself inside the young man, a crude but effective method of allowing himself to see through the victor's eyes, to experience what he did. It was more than just an afterthought— he truly was curious to see what would happen next.

What would that young man be able to accomplish there? All good things, surely.

How ironic that all of it would be made possible by All the World's Evils.

When Shirou finally regained consciousness, it was to a sensation he could only describe as pure agony. He was a little beaten up— which wasn't too bad by itself— but every inch of his skin felt raw, as if he'd just taken a bath in acid. Honestly, it wouldn't have been too surprising if he'd opened his eyes to find that he'd molted like a snake. Just what exactly had happened while he had been asleep?

No, not asleep... that would imply that he had been actively trying to rest, when the last thing he remembered doing was fighting—

Gilgamesh

His eyes snapped open. Red bricks occupied his peripheral vision, with a thin sliver of blue sky overhead. A pungent odour of stale beer and urine washed over him, courtesy of a half-dozen abandoned bottles and their previous owners.

An alleyway, then. Not the most well-kept of places, all things considered, but it could have been a lot worse. Still, that didn't stop Shirou from wondering how he got there.

Was it the Grail? Did it just decide to randomly spit me out somewhere?

Useless conjecture, given that there was no way to ask it what it had been thinking, or even if it had been responsible in the first place. But then again, what else could it have been?

Clutching his pounding head, he staggered to his feet. As he did, he noticed that something felt just a little… off. Like he was just a little off-kilter, a little unbalanced. Maybe he'd taken a hit to the head at some point. He'd have to make sure to take things easy for a while so it wouldn't get worse.

A pained groan from behind caught his attention. Is someone injured?

He turned, almost falling over as he did so.

Then his eyes met a frigid vermillion gaze.

"You?"
"You!"

With two almost identical cries, Shirou and the man across from him sprang apart, blades materialising at their sides.

Great… just great.

Not only had he been spirited away to who-knows-where, but it seemed the King of Heroes had gone along with him.

So... I for some reason decided to start yet another long-term fic, bringing the grand total up to three. Welp.

I may sound like I'm complaining, but I've actually been really looking forward to getting to writing... this. It remains to be seen what 'this' will end up becoming, but it's going to be fun finding that out. I just need to take all my various ideas and assemble them into a concrete plot.

First off, this fic was inspired by Saraak's My Ideal Academia (which is pretty awesome by the way). I couldn't help but try my hand at my own fate/MHA crossover after reading their work. For anyone familiar with MIA, you may have noticed that I borrowed the means for Shirou's world jump from there, albeit with a slight twist. However, I do want this fic to be as unique as possible and will be doing my utmost to avoid recreating anyone else's plot points.

Be warned, the title and summary are probably going to be interim stand-ins until I can think of something better. Our other honorary mention are 'With Heroes Like These' and— as suggested by my beta-reader Berix— 'The Faker's Trails'. That probably doesn't mean a lot to most of you, but it's a reference to one of my other fics, 'The Faker's Trials'... I don't know about you, but I don't need that level of confusion in my life.

Speaking of beta-readers, I am looking for someone to beta for this fic too. Berix was kind enough to look over this first chapter for me, but given that he's not too familiar with MHA and that I already pester him on a regular basis for help on my other fic, I imagine he probably doesn't want to make it a regular thing.

So yeah thanks for taking the time to read this. Please consider following/favouriting to let me know if you enjoyed this unnecessarily long intro chapter. Better yet, drop a review to tell me your thoughts! Constructive criticism is always welcome. Thanks again to Berix— who might I add writes his own fics too so please show him some love. And hopefully, I'll see you guys soon with another chapter.

Edit: thanks to Heird for pointing out that Shirou couldn't be the winner of the War as he was no longer a Master. Should have fixed that little blunder. In case anyone is wondering, the edit about the last Master using all her command seals? That's Rin commanding Saber to stay at the lake's edge and to not wade in to try and save her. Gotta override that A-rank magic resistance somehow.

If you like what you read here, please consider supporting me on P.A.T.R.E.O.N.

P a treon .com (slash) TheEternalEscapist