Talk:Kino no Tabi:Volume8 Prologue

2012-09-16T00:38:59Z

Fishnchips: translations from korean?

User talk:Brynhilde

2011-03-15T07:45:33Z

Fishnchips:

... Bryn... Is this where you're referring to as the "talk" page? :|;;;

-- Fish

Hey... Anserina here. D: Please let B-L be okay. I hope the others get here soon, too...

sharingan here....where is this talk page...is it here?
and what the hell happened to BL??!

For reference, the section "25a" that ProBoards refers to on the error page is as follows:

"25. TERMINATION

a) By ProBoards

WITHOUT LIMITING ANY OTHER PROVISION OF THIS AGREEMENT, PROBOARDS RESERVES THE RIGHT TO, IN PROBOARDS' SOLE DISCRETION AND WITHOUT NOTICE OR LIABILITY, DENY USE OF THE WEBSITE AND/OR SERVICES TO ANY PERSON FOR ANY REASON OR FOR NO REASON AT ALL, INCLUDING WITHOUT LIMITATION FOR ANY BREACH OR SUSPECTED BREACH OF ANY REPRESENTATION, WARRANTY OR COVENANT CONTAINED IN THIS AGREEMENT, OR OF ANY APPLICABLE LAW OR REGULATION."

"DENY USE... FOR NO REASON AT ALL"? What the hell kind of policy is that? >:|

-- Fish

User talk:Brynhilde

2011-03-15T07:44:51Z

Fishnchips:

User talk:Brynhilde

2011-03-14T07:20:38Z

Fishnchips:

... Bryn... Is this where you're referring to as the "talk" page? :|;;;

-- Fish

User talk:Brynhilde

2011-03-14T07:20:18Z

Fishnchips: Created page with "... Bryn... Is this where you're referring to as the "talk" page? :|;;;"

... Bryn... Is this where you're referring to as the "talk" page? :|;;;

Fate/Zero:Act 16 Part 4

2011-02-08T07:03:37Z

Fishnchips: added p.293 image

=== -'''03:59:04''' ===

The earth rumbled and clouds of sand were blown up as {{H:title|Army of the King|Ionian Hetairoi}} approached -

Even before such an overwhelming spectacle, the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh did not move in the slightest.

The only thing dwelling in those red eyes gazing at the magnificence was complete blood-colored joy. It was a feeling beyond the bounds of mundanity, known only to the king who had completely exhausted all the pleasures of this world.

In truth, Archer was pleased.

He was tired of how he would be invited till the end of time, repeatedly, to farces that were battles in name only. And now, he had finally obtained an opponent he could recognize as an 'enemy'.

A challenge from that Rider was worth using his full strength to gain supremacy.

"Lashing dreams together and aspiring for tyranny... I will praise your enthusiasm. But brave soldiers, have any of you discerned it? The truth, that a dream is something you ought to wake up from before long."

Archer, with the key sword in hand, unlocked the vault from thin air. However, he did not deploy Gate of Babylon. What he took out was only a single sword.

"And thus, it was inevitable that I would be the one to block your path, King of Conquerors."

- Could it really be called something as specialized as a 'sword'?

It was a weapon of far too abnormal a shape. There was a grip and a hand guard, and its length was about that of a longsword. But the crucial section where the 'blade' should have been assigned deviated far too much from the form of an edged weapon. It was a dull blade with a pillar made of three sections lined up, and a tip which spun in a spiral shape. The three pillar sections were like querns, slowly continuing to rotate in alternation.

Yes, it was no longer a sword. Something born before the appearance of the concept that this world called a "sword" can't possibly have the shape of a known sword. It was something constructed by a God before humans. It was the actualization of the works of a God recorded at the beginning of the world.

The three quern-like cylinders, acting in concert with the movement of the Heavens, revolved as each creaked with a weight and power equivalent to tectonic movement. The enormous amount of seething and overflowing prana was beyond measurement.

"Now, know the conclusion of your unfulfilled dream. The truth shall be shown by my own hand."

Archer held his hand high above his head, and the sword of the beginning gradually increased the speed of its revolutions. Faster with each rotation, ever faster...

Rider, who perceived the threat simply through instinct, pressed on Bucephalus' reins.

"It's coming!"

He yielded the first move to Archer. That was fine. Even though he yielded it, it was just one blow. {{H:title|Army of the King|Ionian Hetairoi}} would trample that lonely golden shadow without waiting for the next.

That being the case, he had to devote himself to overcoming that one blow. Archer boasted incomparable Noble Phantasms; this was unmistakably a trump card only for when, in his own way, he believed the time was ripe.

Was it an anti-army Noble Phantasm?

An anti-fortress Noble Phantasm?

Or it could be an anti-personnel Noble Phantasm, and what he truly intended was to shoot only at Rider, at the head of the army, bringing him down with certainty...

It rumbled as a tornado roared, and an enormous amount of prana surged forth from the grip of Archer's sword.

"Now awake, '''Ea'''. A stage befitting you has been prepared!"

Ea - the God of earth and water from ancient Mesopotamian mythology who had separated '''Heaven''' and '''Earth'''.

Called by this name, the '''Sword of Rupture''' was the primordial sword present at the creation of the world in the Age of Gods. The role the blade of the beginning accomplished - it was nothing short of that which had cut apart what had been shapeless into Heaven and Earth, what had given a definitive shape to that distinction.

And now, the rotating God sword, haughtily blowing up storm winds, would once again perform that miracle of genesis. The golden King of Heroes triumphantly shouted a declaration.

"Come now and look up - to {{H:title|the Star of Creation that Split Heaven and Earth|Enuma Elish}}!"

Heaven screamed, and Earth shook.

An enormous collection of prana was released, grinding at the laws of space.

The sword tip Archer swung down was not aimed at anyone in the first place.

It was no longer a matter of aiming at anyone. What the Sword of Rupture's blade cuts down cannot be contained to simply 'the enemy'.

Rider, driving his horse hard, saw before his eyes the fracturing of the earth, and the opening of an abyss.

"Hmn?!"

He had observed the danger that was slowly occurring at his feet, but the momentum of the charging Bucephalus could no longer be repressed.

"Hii - "

The fate of falling could no longer be avoided; Waver stifled his scream. But of course, the horse and rider carrying him right now were not the kind to be daunted by a danger of this level.

"Haa - !"

Responding to Rider's reins, the heroic horse flew high into the sky with a kick of its splendid hind legs.

It was a bloodcurdling leap and glide. But sure enough, at the end of that single instant which seemed endless to Waver, what Bucephalus landed on was firm ground on the opposite side of the fissure.

However, before he had time to feel relieved, Waver paled at the horrific state of the following cavalry.

The brigade of King's Guards, not having legs as strong as Bucephalus', could not completely cross the rupture in the earth, and fell helplessly into the abyss like an avalanche. The warhorses of the ranks further back braked at the very brink and were saved from the miserable fate of the fall; however, it was yet nothing more than the beginning of the tragedy.

"Boy, hold on!"

Reprimanding him, Rider grabbed onto Waver while clinging to Bucephalus' mane.

In the time it took the heroic horse to sense the danger and jump back to a safe zone, the fissure expanded further in width, swallowing the surrounding earth and the knights.

No - it wasn't only the earth. The cracks stretched out from the surface to empty air, distorting space and sucking in the atmosphere. The entirety of their surroundings were blown into the end of the void by a surging wind.

"T-This is..."

It was such a scene that even the King of Conquerors was at a loss for words.

The Sword of Rupture commanded by the King of Heroes - what its single strike bore through was not only the earth, but ''the world itself'', stretching to the sky. The attack was not even something to be discussed as a matter of whether it hit, or whether its force was advisable. Soldiers, horses, the dust, the sky - nearly everything that used the cut space as a foundation was swallowed and disappeared into the surging void.

Bucephalus planted his hooves firm with all his strength and resisted the atmospheric pressure of the vacuum; even as this happened, the great plain of hot sand woven by {{H:title|Army of the King|Ionian Hetairoi}} cracked, shattered, and collapsed into the abyss of the void like the ending of an hourglass.

Before that one blade was swung, all things were nothing more than chaos which could not form any meaning -

After that one blade was swung, a new truth divided and distinguished Heaven, Sea, and Earth.

The released tumult of genesis was no longer in the realm of an anti-fortress Noble Phantasm. It was an irregularity that broke down not only that which possessed shape, but all of creation. That was the true form of the '''anti-world Noble Phantasm''' that made the King of Heroes transcendent.

Heaven fell, Earth broke; within the darkness where everything returned to nothingness, only Archer's Sword of Rupture shone with brilliance. The dazzling light continued to complete the destruction, like a star of creation, the first thing illuminating the new world.

Rider and Waver could not ascertain all of this to the end. To begin with, the Reality Marble they were in was maintained by the total prana of the summoned Heroic Spirits. Before the world itself disappeared, the bounded field broke apart at the seams once over half of the army had been lost, and the distorted laws of space once again returned to the way they had been.

And so, as though awakening from a dream, Bucephalus, carrying the two of them, landed on the great bridge of nighttime Fuyuki.

On the opposite bridgehead the golden Archer stood, blocking their path with a bewitching smile. The location of the two did not change; it was as though time had rewinded back to the outset of the battle.

The only change that could be seen was the existence of the Sword of Rupture in Archer's hand, which was still twisting and growling even now.

And the fatal change that could not be seen - the disappearance of {{H:title|Army of the King|Ionian Hetairoi}}, Rider's trump card.

"Rider..."

The giant Servant, with a serious and dignified face, posed a question to his Master, looking up to him with a pallid expression.

"Come to think of it, there's one thing that I have to ask you."

"... Huh?"

"Waver Velvet. Would you be a servant, and serve me?"

His entire body shook with violent emotions. Then, like the bursting of a dam, floods of tears poured out.

It was a question that he knew would always be out of his reach, and yet one he had been yearning and anxiously waiting for. There was no need to search for a reply; it was because he had already prepared one, hidden deep in his heart like a treasure.

"You - "

The boy, called by his name for the first time, threw out his chest without wiping away his tears, and replied with a steady voice.

" - You, are my King. I will serve you. I will give my all for you. Please, guide me. Please let me see the same dream."

The King of tyranny smiled at the words of oath. To his servant, that smile was a reward surpassing any prize.

"Hm, very well."
[[Image:FZ v04 293.png|thumb|]]
As soon as his heart was enveloped by the uplifting joy - Waver's body was truly lifted into space.

"... Huh?"

The King picked up the boy's short body from the back of Bucephalus, and gently lowered him onto the surface of the asphalt road. Having lost the elevation from atop the horse and returned to the vision of his original height, Waver felt nothing but bewilderment at once again savoring his shortness and smallness.

"It is my duty as the King to exemplify the dream. And it is your duty as the servant to ascertain the dream of the King, and pass it down to later generations."

Upon a saddle so very high that his shaking hand could no longer reach it, the King of Conquerors smiled firmly but brightly as he passed down his royal command.

"Live on, Waver. See everything through to the end, live long, and tell it; the nature of your King; the sprint of this Alexander."

Bucephalus neighed, beating his hooves as though in encouragement - but in the end, was it for the King who would now face his death, or the servant who was entrusted with a difficult charge?

Waver hung his head, and did not raise it. Alexander took that as consent. There was no need for words. From this day until the end of time, the servant would be guided by the figure of the King, and the servant would remain loyal to that memory. In the face of the oath, even separation was meaningless; under the command of Alexander, the bond formed between King and servant was eternal and beyond time.

"Now, Bucephalus, to conquest!"

And so, the King of Conquerors kicked the flanks of his beloved horse, and went off to face his last sprint. Aiming for the bitter enemy waiting for him, he let out a screaming war cry.

He was a strategist. He acknowledged fully the indisputable flow of battle. But 'that' was different from 'this'. The King of Conquerors Alexander could not think of any other prescription other than charging toward the golden Heroic Spirit.

There was no resignation. There was no despair. What was there was only the utter excitement bursting full from his heart.

Strong - he was too strong. The hero who tore apart the world itself was undoubtedly the strongest enemy in Heaven and Earth.

In that case, this man was the last enemy.

He was higher than the peak of the Hindu Kush, hotter than the hot sands of the Mackran - he was the last obstacle in this world. And so, how could the King of Conquerors not challenge it? If he can surpass this, what lay beyond was surely the ends of the world. The faraway dream he had always been seeing was waiting to be fulfilled right now, before his eyes.

"'''''{{H:title|Glory exists for the other side|To Philotimo}}'''''" - he challenged it because it was unreachable; he expressed his tyranny, exemplified it, for the sake of the servant who watched over his back.

The King of Heroes, towering over his path, calmly gazed at the challenger, and released the treasures of the vault. Twenty, forty, eighty - a swarm of Noble Phantasms deployed from thin air, shining like so many glittering stars. That light made the King of Conquerors reminiscent of the starry sky of the East far off in the distance that he would look up to.

"AAAALaLaLaLaie!!"

Bellowing with a delight that shook his heart, he rushed on together with his beloved horse.

With haughty growls, the rain of stars approached. Incessantly, mercilessly, the impacts trampled over their bodies. However, that pain was nothing more than a worthless trifle compared to the excitement of this sprint.

There were times when he had succumbed to that sort of faint-heartedness - and yet was not about to reach 'the furthest end'. How foolish. What a disgrace.

The 'end' he had been seeking was now towering over his path. Having crossed countless hills, forded countless rivers, he finally discovered the ending point.

Thus, he would surpass it.

He would step across that enemy.

One step, and one step further. The only thing he had to do was simply repeat that. If he continued to accumulate it, then even that figure far in the distance would most surely be reached by his blade.

The swarm of stars poured on boisterously. In his fury where even his consciousness was prone to recede, his posture inadvertently and carelessly began to decline.

Then he realized that, at some point, he had started running on his own feet. How far did his beloved horse Bucephalus reach? Where did he end? He wanted to mourn for his friend, who had boldly carried out his duty to the end, but that was why he could not stop now. This step he would now take forward was in itself the mourning for those who were scattered.

His golden rival, as though understanding this, said something with an expression of amazement. But he could not hear him. Not even the flashes of light grazing past his ears, with the sounds of violent winds, could reach his ears.

[[Image:FZ v04 00p.jpg|thumb|What he heard, was simply - the sound of the waves.

The sound of the waves breaking onto the remote empty shores - of the sea at the world's end.

Aah, that was it. With a bright feeling, he understood it.

How had he not recognized it during all this time? - This violent throbbing of his heart was the roaring of {{H:title|the last sea|Oceanus}}.
]]

What he heard, was simply - the sound of the waves.

The sound of the waves breaking onto the remote empty shores - of the sea at the world's end.

Aah, that was it. With a bright feeling, he understood it.

How had he not recognized it during all this time? - This violent throbbing of his heart was the roaring of {{H:title|the last sea|Oceanus}}.

"Hahah... AHAHAHAHA!"

He saw his dream as he ran on the beach. The sensation of the sprays he kicked up felt pleasant on his toes. The bright red soaking his feet might be the blood flowing from his own abdomen, but what of it? Right now, he was watching a dream of the sea. How could there be any greater bliss?

The King of Heroes awaited him, right before his very eyes. One more step - and then, just one more, and his sword, brandished high, could cleave apart the crown of his head.

"Haaaah - !!"

With a ringing victory cry that reached the Heavens, he swung down the sword of the Cypriots.

It was the peak of a moment when he was convinced of his victory. The instant that should have passed in the blink of an eye seemed, for some reason, to stretch into an eternity. It was as though time stood still -

No. In truth, it did stop - not the flow of time, but his own body.

Just before the swung sword could reach, his blade, his limbs, his shoulders, and his abdomen were wrapped around by a tough chain; the King of Conquerors sighed.

Enkidu - the secret among secrets contained in the King of Heroes' vault. The restraint that captured even the Bull of Heaven.

" - Good grief... All these oddities, one after another..."

There was no wonder or regret. He simply derided himself for finally tripping over a small careless mistake. A bitter smile rose from his bloodstained lips.

The sword of the Cypriots could not reach him; however, Gilgamesh's Sword of Rupture pierced through Alexander's chest with its dull tip. He could feel the sensation of the slowly grinding blade inside his vitals. This sword just becomes more and more absurd - the King of Conquerors felt amazement as well as admiration, as though this was the affair of another.

" - Have you awoken from your dream, King of Conquerors?"

"... Hm, yes. I suppose..."

It could not be carried out this time, either. It had ended with the unfulfilled dream remaining as it was - unfulfilled. However, now that he thought about it, that was a one-time dream he had wagered his life for in the past.

The fantastic dream he saw in Asia Minor in the remote past - now, in this Far East land, he was once again seeing the same dream.

Thinking nostalgically on such checkered circumstances, Alexander smiled.

If he could see the same dream for even a second time, then it would not be strange to have a third.

Which would mean -

It was nearly the right time to see the next dream.

"This expedition has, been... exciting, in all respects as well..."

Alexander murmured in satisfaction, narrowing the corners of his eyes which were blurred by a blood haze. Ascertaining his expression of rapture, Gilgamesh solemnly nodded.

"You may challenge it however many times you wish, King of Conquerors."

To his worthy opponent, whose entire body was skewered from head to toe by the rain of Noble Phantasms, yet who did not stop until thwarted by the Chain of Heaven, the King of Heroes gave his greatest reward - he honored him with true feelings of admiration.

"Until the end of time, this world will always be my garden. Thus, I can assure you. You shall never find this world tiresome."

"Ooh...? That's, good to, hear..."

In the end, carelessly giving out the appropriate response, Servant Rider was quietly extinguished.

In terms of time, it was merely a short battle. It was nothing more than an offense and defense that barely filled the few seconds it took for the mounted Heroic Spirit to gallop across to the opposite bridgehead.

However, it was equivalent to a lifetime to Waver, who had it all burned into his eyes without blinking once.

He wouldn't ever forget it. Even if a lid was closed over his heart, he couldn't possibly forget. The scene his eyes caught in the last few seconds had already become a part of his soul and was impossible to detach.

Waver simply stood rooted to the ground, alone where he was left behind on the road, unable to move in the slightest. He repeatedly acknowledged that he must move, but he felt that if he tried to walk a single step he would collapse onto his knees.

However, he absolutely could not kneel down now.

The golden Archer, gazing at Waver with his brutal blood-colored eyes, slowly walked up to him. He must not avert his eyes. Even though his entire body was frozen with terror, he at least understood that. He would not survive if he averted his eyes now.

The boy shook with fear he did not attempt to hide, yet he stubbornly did not avert his eyes; Archer stood before him, and posed a question in a voice completely devoid of emotion.

"Boy, are you Rider's Master?"

He had thought that he couldn't possibly speak from a throat frozen by terror, but just as he was asked about his relationship with 'him', he was released from his stiffness for a short moment. Waver shook his head, and replied in a hoarse voice.

"No. I'm - his servant."

"Hmn?"

Archer narrowed his eyes, looked all over Waver in his entirety, and finally noticed that no place on his body conveyed the presence of the command seals.

" - I see. But boy, if you truly are a loyal subject, you have a duty to take revenge for your deceased King, do you not?"

Even with the second question, Waver answered with a strangely calm heart.

"... If I challenge you, I would die."

"Of course."

"I can't do that. I was ordered to ''live''."

Yes - he couldn't die. Not now, when the last words entrusted to him by the King were engraved into his heart.

Waver must escape from this dilemma no matter what. He was before an enemy Servant and had no way to defend himself; even though it was a desperate situation where nothing could be done - the one thing he definitely could not do was give up. He could not ignore the way he had made the oath.

And that was perhaps a pain far more cruel than resigning himself to death.

The boy shook helplessly before the death he could not escape from, but his gaze alone made his adamance known. Looking down wordlessly on that too-small stature for a short while, Gilgamesh simply nodded once.

"The path of devotion is a great labor. Do not ever mar it."

He had no reason to raise his hand against a mongrel who was neither Master nor traitor. That was his decision as the King.

Waver watched his departure as the golden Heroic Spirit turned on his heels and calmly walked away. Before long, the figure was gone from his sight, and a cold wind blowing across the river completely scattered the air of battle that had been stretched out the entire time; afterward, the lone boy realized that he had been left behind in the night, and finally understood that everything had ended.

His knees shook again at the miracle that was his survival.

Right before Archer changed his mind, he had truly had the intent to kill Waver. The killing intent he released as naturally as breathing had wordlessly announced that. Had Waver averted his eyes, or collapsed with fear, or choked in his reply, that would have truly happened.

If one was to sneer at how he had only begged for his life, then one simply did not know of the remorselessness of the King of Heroes. Simply being alive after resisting his terror was a conflict, and a victory. It was the first time Waver Velvet had gained a victory in a challenge by himself.

It was an unsightly and very small battle. It was far from brave, or spectacular. No one yielded to him, and he obtained no plunder. The only thing he did was survive and escape from a dilemma.

Even so, Waver was happy. He was proud. Only Waver himself could understand how priceless it was for him to arrive at that impossible conclusion under those circumstances. That honor was in him only. Even if it appeared unsightly to an onlooker, there was no reason to feel ashamed.

He complied with the order of the King. He saw everything through to the end, and lived on.

He wanted to be praised. By that massive, heavy palm. By his rough, unreserved, and thick voice. This time, he wouldn't need to hide his embarrassment. He could have thrown out his chest unreservedly and boasted about his accomplishments to the man.

Yet - in this night sunken in silence, Waver was helplessly alone. No one was beside him. Like the him from eleven days ago, Waver was alone, left behind in a heartless and apathetic corner of the world.

The battle was only for him. No one had noticed what he had surpassed by himself in his loneliness. No one was praising him.

But if one were to call it a cruel treatment - then no, it wasn't.

He had been rewarded with more than enough words of praise just now. The grandest King in the world had recognized and assigned him. He was told that he would be added into the ranks of the servants.

The order of events was simply reversed.

He had now been praised for the far future as well; the only thing to do now was to devote all that remained of his life to accumulate enough accomplishments to match that eulogy.

Yes. Simply because of those words at that point in time - he was not alone.

The moment he understood this, his days as a boy was over.

And then he knew it for the first time; sometimes, tears flowed free from humiliation or regret.

Now, on the empty bridge, looking down on the black surface of the flowing river, Waver Velvet wet his cheeks without any regrets.

They were the warm and crisp tears of a man.

<noinclude>
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|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_3|Act 16, Part 3]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_5|Act 16, Part 5]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Fate/Zero:Volume4 Illustrations

2011-02-08T06:59:41Z

Fishnchips: added p. 293 image

<gallery>
Image:FZ_v04_cover.jpg|'''Cover'''
Image:FZ_v04_flap.jpg|'''Inside Flap'''
Image:FZ_v04_00g.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00h.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00i.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00j.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00k.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00l.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00m.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00n.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00o.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_00p.jpg
Image:FZ_v04_005.png|'''Page 005'''
Image:FZ_v04_045.png|'''Page 045'''
Image:FZ_v04_097.png|'''Page 097'''
Image:FZ_v04_117.png|'''Page 117'''
Image:FZ_v04_143.png|'''Page 143'''
Image:FZ_v04_193.png|'''Page 193'''
Image:FZ_v04_253.png|'''Page 253'''
Image:FZ_v04_277.png|'''Page 277'''
Image:FZ v04 293.png|'''Page 293'''
Image:FZ_v04_387.png|'''Page 387'''
Image:FZ_v04_409.png|'''Page 409'''

</gallery>

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Volume_3_Postface|Volume 2 Postface]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Interlude|Interlude]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

2011-02-03T11:48:52Z

Fishnchips:

=== -03:59:48 ===

At that moment, Saber was wandering aimlessly around eastern Shinto in search of Irisviel. Naturally, she too noticed the smoke signal sent out at Fuyuki Municipal Hall.

Though she did not understand the significance of the signal, it undoubtedly had something to do with the Heaven’s Feel. Like one critically ill who would turn to any doctor, as if grasping a lifeline, Saber immediately turned the vehicle and sped in the direction of the smoke signal's flare.

Saber, who did not need to cross the Mion River to reach her destination, was not attacked by Archer who was guarding the bridge, and arrived first at the Fuyuki Municipal Hall.

Saber drove the V-MAX through the silent night scene; revving the V-type four-cylinder engine, she drove into the front porch, the walls of which still looked new.

There was no sign of the enemy in sight, and neither could she sense any killing intent hidden in the darkness. In that case — was the enemy hiding within the building?

Saber gazed for a moment at the pitch-black area near the outer wall of the Municipal Hall, turning the V-MAX around to the guiding road designated for visitors. She followed the sloping path that extended below the building and entered the underground parking area.

In the underground area where the moonlight could not reach, the white light of the headlights cut through the darkness to shine on the icy cement wall. The wide car park, designed to accommodate more than a hundred cars, had not yet been opened for use; only several cars from the construction company were parked here and there; the rest of the empty space was heavy with dusty air.

The rough roar of the V-MAX’s engine was also swallowed up in an instant by the strange, crypt-like silence. Saber warily glanced at her surroundings. All around her was dense darkness, the shadows of the support pillars that had been built all over the place… Extremely suitable for the enemy to hide his form. More importantly, her instinct felt the murderous intent that almost saturated the air.

“Ah…”

From the floor came a resentful sigh; it sounded like the groaning of the dead from a dark abyss.

Saber could not have heard this sound wrongly, for she had many times been its target—

“URRRRRR!!”

She immediately reacted to the explosion that closely followed the roar.

Saber twisted and retreated quickly. In the spot she had just been, the V-MAX left behind was surrounded by fire that splashed like rain. In just one instant, her beloved steel steed was turned into a shapeless heap of scrap. The gunpowder scent of burning reached Saber’s nose.

“This weapon is—“

Saber had an impression of it. This was the rain of fire that had turned Lancer’s Master and the rest—all who had fallen terribly victim to Emiya Kiritsugu’s calculations—into pitiful corpses. It was the mechanized shooting weapon that had become mainstream in this modern world.

In the depths of the darkness, red lotuses of flame blossomed once more. Under the firelight that shone from the muzzle of the gun, the black shadow of Berserker lengthened to a state of deformity as it gestured threateningly on the walls of the underground parking area. Without the slightest hesitation, Saber leaped into the air, dashing out through a baptism of flying lead bullets. The stray bullets of unimaginably destructive power tore open a large hole in the cement of the ground and walls. That power obviously could not be spoken of in tandem with the weapon that Maiya had used. Saber sensed that even though she was a Servant, if she were hit she would be fatally wounded; she gnashed her teeth in anger.

Of course, she could not have known the process by which Berserker had obtained the small machine guns. Both of the crazed black knight’s hands held a modern firearm that Kotomine Kirei had prepared using the power of his position as Supervisor; Berserker nimbly and freely operated them as if they were extensions of his own hands. The firearms’ structure and holster were all immersed in the hated prana, and had turned into fierce magecraft military equipment that could threaten even Saber.

“▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！”

The two machine guns were not in any way inferior to the black knight’s angry howl; screeching hotly, they attacked Saber. The bullets, faster than the speed of sound, were still unable to surpass the speed of Saber’s sword. Nevertheless, the speed of twenty-odd bullets per second left her only able to parry.

Berserker could confer the properties of a Noble Phantasm on the weapon in his hand, regardless of its origin or time period. Once it had been upgraded to the category of Noble Phantasm, the difference in power between the two weapon types of ‘sword’ and ‘firearm’ forced Saber into a decisively disadvantageous situation.

Because the building's construction was not yet finished, a large number of paint cans were piled in one corner of the parking lot. One of the stray bullets struck them, and the calcined bullet caused the solvent to explode. The underground darkness was dissipated by red lotuses of flame.

Saber was so restricted by the curtain of bullets that she could not close in; she looked around in search of a method by which she could return from certain defeat. Then, she saw a small truck parked in a lot at the corner of the car park.

“— That’s it!”

Accepting the risk that she could be forced into the corner with no route of retreat, Saber dashed toward the vehicle she had set her eyes on. Berserker pursued her as she fled, at the same time shooting at random with the firearms in his hands. Saber made a ferocious step that narrowly preceded the howling bullets, dashing to the back of the truck. She brandished the flat of her blade upward, flinging the structure of the vehicle into the air.

At that point, the rain of bullets targeting Saber crumpled the truck as if it had been a paper model. Saber continued to hide behind the structure of the truck, pieces of which had been scattered all over, using her shoulder to halt the rotating chassis. In this manner, she dashed toward Berserker.

Berserker continued to shoot, using the machine gun to mercilessly smash the structure of the truck to iron chips. Even though the heavy frame of the truck quickly met its disintegrated fate, from Saber’s perspective, as long as the ‘temporary shield’ could close the distance and bring Berserker into proximity of her sword’s attack, it would be enough.

“Uaoaoaoao!”

The bullets, which had penetrated the structure of the truck, grazed her face and shoulders. One bullet sent sparks flying in all directions as it impacted the oil tank, combusting the fuel inside. The structure of the vehicle, already unrecognizable, was consigned to the flames. Nevertheless, even this did not stop the pace of Saber’s attack.

When the distance to the adversary had closed to less than ten meters, Saber picked an opportune moment to throw the wreckage of the truck toward Berserker. Facing the flaming iron scrap, Berserker not only declined to dodge, but also brought up a single hand in the attempt to smash it with one fist.

— The time was ripe.

“Ha-a!!”

With a great shout, Saber once again pressed in on the burning structure of the truck with the thunderous speed of lightning, using all her strength to drive her attack downward. The precious sword pierced the burning piece of iron that had been used as a distraction; the point of the sword closed in on Berserker on the other side.

Blocked by the obstacle, Berserker was completely unable to see Saber’s actions, and thus had no way of avoiding this attack. In the third clash of blades, Saber finally scored a hit on the enemy in one blow. From the point of her sword, a sense of having scored a direct hit traveled up to her hand.

But—

“— Too shallow!?”

On Saber’s side, because of the blocking shield, she too could not directly see her target. Even though she had indeed scored a hit on the other by relying on her intuition to attack, she had ultimately not been lucky enough to score a critical hit in that blow. The front part of Invisible Air, though it had accurately made contact with the center of the forehead of the black helmet, it had been unable to smash the skull inside.

The outside of the truck was subject to a heavy rain of bullets, and its inside had been pierced by a sword; this time it finally broke into two pieces. Although Berserker had not received a fatal wound, the fierce attack to his face made him stagger backward and left him unable to recover for a short moment. That was time enough for a follow-up attack. Now the scales of victory were tipped toward Saber.

Saber kicked aside the burning vehicle wreckage and lifted her sword high into an [[Fate/Zero:Translator's Notes#Upward stance|upward stance]]. This time, she would definitely not let him off. She aimed at the top of Berserker’s defenseless head and gambled victory on the following direct attack.

The stance, speed, and timing were all perfect. It was a strike worthy of the name of the sword-wielding Heroic Spirit, enough to make one believe that the outcome had been decided—precisely for this reason, the instant when Saber’s sword was stopped in midair was especially surprising.

Berserker threw away the machine guns, trapping the blade of Invisible Air between his bare hands before her eyes. That consummate skill was unbelievable on two counts: the first was that he had used an impossible stance to respond to Saber’s follow-up killing blow, and the second was that he had done so even though it was impossible to perceive the path of Invisible Air. But the Black Knight had grabbed the white blade with his bare hands to seal Saber’s attack as if he had known every detail of Saber’s sword, from the shape to the length, like the back of his hand.

Saber suddenly realized the fatal danger of having Berserker come into contact with her weapon; she shuddered violently. She banished the astonishment of her heart to the back of her mind and used all her strength to kick out towards the black knight’s chest. Berserker, who could not take the blow and was forced to retreat, released the precious sword, allowing Saber’s beloved weapon to narrowly escape the danger of being corroded by the other’s black magic.

The sprinklers on the ceiling at last reacted to the flames spreading all around; they began to violently spray curtains of water. Even though their bodies were exposed to torrential pour of water, the silver and black knights still did not move in the slightest as they confronted each other.

In Saber’s heart again rushed forth a question that could not be overlooked.

The deceptive illusion of Invisible Air had been ineffective against Berserker. He was obviously very familiar with the sword protected by an invisible sheath. In other words, that meant that he had originally known her before she had become a Heroic Spirit.

At the warehouse district and Mion River, this black knight had shown an abnormal persistence in attacking Saber. If his actions had not been under his Master’s instructions, but this insane Heroic Spirit’s own hatred…

The more she stared at the black fog, the more indistinct the details of the armor became. This indicated that around Berserker’s body was twined a delusive protection similar to Invisible Air, making it impossible to see the true face of this Heroic Spirit. But at this point Saber could not but believe — he was undoubtedly one of the knights who had known her.

“… Your skill says that you are by no means an anonymous knight. Answer me!”

Saber made up her mind and cried out loudly to the enemy she confronted through the mist.

“Since you have recognized that I am the King of Britain Arturia Pendragon and challenged me as such, you should make known your background with the glory befitting a knight! To issue a challenge while hiding your identity is akin to plotting against me!”

The patter of water, like a heavy downpour of rain, was slowly penetrated by a clear clatter — ''ka-da-ka-da'' — of metal. Though it was very slight, the sound that permeated the ears chilled her soul; undoubtedly, it came from Berserker — under the cover of the black mist, his full-body armor was trembling.

That was the gentle sound of the armor that completely covered his limbs as the pieces rippled softly and knocked against each other.

“You…”

Saber finally discovered the source of the strange sound, like a sigh or a groan, crawling across the ground.

That grinding, sobbing noise originated from the depths of the black helmet. Berserker’s entire body shuddered, revealing an emotion that could not be suppressed.

Laughter — when Saber understood it thus, an unspeakable shudder ran through her body.

Lacking sound logic or proof, with only her sixth sense as guidance, she realized one thing: her previous interrogation had been a fatal mistake.

It was a pity that she had realized it too late. The words that would have summoned to her the worst possible curse had long since been spoken through her own lips.

The black fog painting the black knight’s entire body began to swirl and contract. Within the rushing mist, the pitch-black armor finally revealed its true colors.

It was perfect armor that was neither exquisite nor crude, but which perfectly melded magnificence and functionality.

The delicate, nuanced workmanship of a smith who had put in his utmost effort succeeded in granting it an air of formidability and fine construction. The countless marks and scratches etched into it became carvings highlighting the wearer’s illustrious military exploits, adding a touch of valor to the armour. It was an ideal battle outfit that all knights could not help but envy.

Saber recognized the hero that had once worn that armor to ride forth on the battlefield. At the Round Table of Camelot he had been an unrivaled swordsman more radiant than any other; he had been a knight more excellent and a warrior more loyal, more brave than any other.

“You are— how could—“

She wished that she had seen wrongly. He was the ideal incarnation embodying the true face of a ‘knight’. That illustrious appearance could not have become the pitch-black form corroded by the Mad Enhancement curse.

The black knight laughed sinisterly as if mocking Saber’s thoughts, reaching for the hilt of the precious sword in its scabbard. That sword had neither been picked up nor stolen. This Heroic Spirit who had been hiding his name all along was finally revealing his own Noble Phantasm.

Saber could only watch on helplessly as he slowly drew the precious sword from its scabbard.

She could not have been wrong; the design of the sword was the same as that of her own, and the fairy letters carved into it was proof that it had not been forged by mortal hands. The flash of the sharp blade under the moonlight was like the water of the lake as it shone with radiance. That was a limitless sword that would not be damaged regardless of the attack it had received.

Only he who was exalted as ‘the perfect knight’ was worthy of having that sword; its name was also known as ‘Arondight • The Indestructible Light of the Lake’ — that evidence spoke the bearer’s name even more clearly than if he had said it himself.

“… Ar… thur…”

The vengeful cry reverberated within the black helmet. With this one vibration, the mask that had already cracked under Saber’s previous blow now shattered.

From the fractured mask was revealed a blackened face.

Nothing remained of the beautiful visage that had once drawn the admiration of many women. Yesterday’s hatred had made him as gaunt and pallid as a phantom; only his eyes, filled with hatred, gave out light. That was the visage of a living dead man who had lost everything to a curse.

“… Ah…”

Saber felt her knees weaken. The unyielding King of Knights forgot herself in helplessness; as if unable to bear the weight of water droplets raining upon her shoulders and back, she fell to her knees on the wet floor.

—Even those who are heroes will fall so far as to lose even the most basic sense of honor—

In the past, someone had spoken to her thus.

In that case, had the curse started from then?

“… Do you really…”

Saber looked at the figure before her eyes, who had long since lost the distinguished dignity of yesterday and had been thoroughly changed by his descent into the seat of madness; hot tears rushed forth, and she could only question.

“… Do you really hate me that much, my friend…? Even if you have become as such… Do you hate me that much, Knight of the Lake?!”

In that instant, the young girl who always maintained her glory to the very end, who fought for honor to the very last—

That was the instant in which she was defeated.

<noinclude>
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| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_1|Act 16, Part 1]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_3|Act 16, Part 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Fate/Zero:Act 16 Part 3

2011-02-03T11:39:52Z

Fishnchips:

=== -03:59:32 ===

In the silence, a repulsive odor of burning assailed his nostrils; it seemed that a fire had broken out somewhere in this large edifice.

Unhurried, Emiya Kiritsugu’s steps were light and decisive as he slowly walked to the center of the empty porch.

He moderately relaxed the muscles of his entire body, not using excessive strength to any area. On the other hand, his nerves reflected the entire situation of the surrounding area, like a mirror more quiet and clear than the surface of a lake sealed in ice, more sensitive than hearing, more distinct than vision, with no blind spots. He had transformed himself into a probe that could instantly sense any slight movement as he strolled through the darkness.

Kotomine Kirei should be somewhere here in the Fuyuki Municipal Hall, awaiting Emiya Kiritsugu’s arrival.

Considering this outcome, the ambush that Kiritsugu had planned had truly been an utter failure. But he felt no regret whatsoever, as he had finally been able to ascertain the true colors of Kotomine Kirei, the enigmatic adversary; this was still considered a large gain. Precisely because Kiritsugu’s many predictions had come to nothing, he had gotten the answer through the process of elimination.

To sum it up, that man had no interest whatsoever in the Grail.

Under ordinary circumstances, all the Masters would battle for the sake of pursuing the Grail. This idea had taken root as a lasting first impression; it had blinded Kiritsugu’s eyes all this time, until today. This was precisely why Kiritsugu had felt uncertainty and a lack of understanding toward Kotomine Kirei’s actions — which had had nothing to do with the Grail.

But tonight, Kiritsugu had clearly seen Kirei’s strategy for the ceremony for the Grail’s descent and discovered that he had been fundamentally wrong.

In using the Fuyuki Municipal Hall as the sacrificial altar, Kirei’s preparation had really not been thorough. This fragile fortress was already lacking as a magecraft stronghold, but he did not take any defensive measures. Even if time had been pressing, he should at least have set up basic traps and protective screens. Furthermore, if there had truly been no time to prepare, then why would he have done something like summoning the other Servants to come forth for a decisive battle? Even taking a hundred steps back, even if he really did know absolutely nothing about defensive magecraft, then why would he choose the one leyline out of the four that was most unsuitable for a defensive battle?

On thinking this, Kiritsugu could only believe — to Kotomine Kirei, the descent of the Grail was of secondary importance. That man had picked the Fuyuki Municipal Hall solely because the chances of being ambushed there were lowest. In comparison to a successful descent of the Grail, he hoped more to gain the most advantageous initiative in the final decisive battle between Masters.

Kotomine Kirei’s goal was not the Grail, but the bloodshed involved in the process of obtaining it. The reason for that could not be investigated, nor did it need investigation. It was enough to have understood who exactly the Executor’s target was.

Kiritsugu slowly gripped the Thompson Contender; feeling the touch of walnut wood under his fingers, he thought of the face he had only ever seen in a photograph.

At this point, even if he tried to pinpoint how and where his path had crossed with that of Kotomine Kirei, it was only a hollow attempt. Kiritsugu’s life had not sailed so smoothly as for him to assert that he had never made an enemy of someone. That he was an outsider who had gatecrashed the Heaven’s Feel solely due to a personal feud with Kiritsugu — this possibility could only be eliminated due to reasons of probability. Though there was only a very small chance that an outsider could have lasted to the very end of the Heaven’s Feel, as well as directed a farce that had changed the direction in which the Grail had progressed—the reality was before his eyes, and Kiritsugu could only accept it as the truth.

Emiya Kiritsugu had never sought the truth nor answer to things. To him, only the ‘situation’ had ever been worthy of concern.

He had merely vowed in his heart that he would save more people. There was no distinction between the lives that were saved. The balance that measured sacrifice and salvation had nothing to do with reason or circumstance. Thus was his existence. He would certainly not be foolish enough to inquire as to the significance of his actions.

Therefore — in Kiritsugu’s heart, none whatsoever remained of the fear and sense of crisis that he had previously felt towards Kotomine Kirei.

From the starting point of knowing what his motives were, that man had fallen to become a simple obstacle that hindered Kiritsugu’s progress. No matter how strong an enemy the other was, as long as Kiritsugu was sure that it was someone he must challenge, that person was no longer one for which he would feel anything. There was no fear, no hatred, neither underestimation nor compassion; he considered only one thing: elimination. That was the only function that Kiritsugu gave himself as a killing machine.

The large auditorium that comprised the first to third floor could be said to be the key area of Fuyuki Municipal Hall. Kirei placed the corpse of the dead homunculus on the stage - which, having been completely renovated, was waiting only for the first performance.

In its soft abdominal cavity, a foreign object could definitely be felt. It was likely that the Grail that had been mixed in with the organs was now regaining its original form. Though Kirei could now cut open the abdominal cavity and remove it, he was not anxious to do so. When one more Servant’s soul was reclaimed, the outer covering should automatically collapse and reveal the Grail. He had only to wait.

Archer was confronting Rider at the bridge; Berserker was blocking Saber at the underground parking garage. Everything was running smoothly. Now there was no one to disturb Kirei.

He left the auditorium and arrived at the corridor. Instantly, the black smoke that suffused the air assailed his nostrils. The origin of the fire should be the underground battlefield. From the density of the smell, the fire had already spread to the different areas of the structure. But all the wire connections to the outside, including the fire alarm, had already been cut off; as long as the fire did not spread outside the structure, it would not be discovered by the nearby residents.

With every step he took, his mood became more passionate; the holy words of benediction could not help but spill from his lips.

“He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me—“

He was here. Now he was sure to meet with him.

Emiya Kiritsugu was nearby. Just as Kirei desired his arrival, so did he search for Kirei.

The flames had dispersed the darkness, flickering and dancing in various areas of the corridor. Warm air caressed Kirei’s face, but he did not care. The tide of blood that roiled in his heart burned even hotter than the flames.

Now, Kirei felt blessed for the first time. The God who had never blessed him before in his life had finally given him a revelation.

What he pursued was this catharsis of hatred, this joy of the fight.

“— Your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life—“

The tongues of flame followed the walls up to the ceiling, turning into signposts showing the way to Hell in invitation to the two men.

They advanced silently, high-spiritedly, without hesitation, toward the place of the decisive battle.

Thus, they met one level below ground - the storage space for large props directly beneath the stage.

At the other end which roiled with black smoke, Emiya Kiritsugu saw the slender figure clothed in vestments.

At the other end which roiled with hot air, Kotomine Kirei saw the black overcoat of his mortal enemy.

The radiance of the Black Keys in his hand reflected the brightness of the barrel of the magecraft gun.

They both perceived the killing intent; they had long come to realize that blazing sensation.

So there was no further need for words for communication.

They finally looked directly upon each other with their own eyes; they came to the same conclusion at the same time.

Seven Masters. Seven Servants. All that was merely what could be called the ‘situation’.

To Emiya Kiritsugu, this war was—

To Kotomine Kirei, the entire battlefield of Fuyuki was—

Everything of everything existed for the sake of bringing down the enemy before them.

Within the raging flames, the blades were moving.

Three in his left, three in his right, the Executor pulled out a total of six Black Keys and sprinted forth.

The sight of the assassin’s gun trained on the shadow that closed in with the wind.

At this moment and in this place, the curtains opened soundlessly upon the final showdown.

<noinclude>
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| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_2|Act 16, Part 2]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_4|Act 16, Part 4]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

2011-01-28T00:12:02Z

Fishnchips:

=== -04:10:33 ===

Fuyuki City Hall –

This structure, which had been built at the cost of eight billion yen, was considered the symbol of Fuyuki Shinto’s development, along with the Central Building in front of the train station. It covered an area of 6600 square meters and had 4700 square meters of usable space. Its complex design housed four floors above ground and one floor below. The two-story music hall could accommodate about 3000 patrons. The building's prestigious architect had created a novel design that made this modern City Hall as majestic and splendid as an ancient shrine. Fuyuki City's high ambition toward Shinto's development could thus be seen in physical form.

However, only the exterior was complete. The interior was still being decorated in preparation for the commemoration ceremony. Active and practical use of the building was still a long way off. In addition to the minimal level of safety precautions, the building still had no access to electricity. Deep in the night, with no workers on site, this pristine and splendid building became an unreal space, with an inhuman silence and an alien feeling flowing and drifting through its emptiness.

Civil planning did not take magecraft into consideration. It was a complete coincidence that the City Hall had been built on top of Fuyuki’s latest leyline – in other words, such a rare coincidence could only be attributed to the paranormal characteristics bestowed upon the area by the leyline.

Kotomine Kirei stood on the rooftop and calmly watched the magecraft signals he had set off as they scattered to smoke in the night wind. The only thing he had needed to do to infiltrate the unguarded building was break the lock. He had already made preparations for the ceremony and was ready to confront an attack. All that was left was to stay and wait for the remaining enemies to be attracted by the signal.

Battle was near, and yet he did not seem to be affected by the thought at all. Executors did not need to be excited with the prospect of bloodshed, nor did they need to jest to relieve the tension. They possessed the ideal characteristics of the tools of God’s will, and would gallop toward death with hearts knowing only the routine completion of yet another duty. Long years of such training allowed Kirei to display the calm and nonchalance of a practicing surgeon.

However –

“Hmph. Your face tonight is as cold as ever, Kirei.”

Archer, who was walking up to the rooftop with a relaxed gait, mocked him. Kirei laughed bitterly in his heart.

What did his face, emotionless as always, look like in the eyes of this Heroic Spirit who could see through everything? Even the shifts in his emotions that he himself could not detect were unable to escape from the Heroic Spirit’s eyes.

Although his heart had wavered in the beginning, Kirei was used to it by now. Yes, he was a cold man in truth – he understood himself as though he was analyzing the business of another.

The King of Heroes, who had just returned from the night market in the street, still wore his flamboyant and luxurious casual clothing. A residual tint of indulgence remained in those crimson eyes, and he showed no sense of urgency at the approaching battle. However, this Heroic Spirit would never separate his outer appearance from his inner feelings. The battle surrounding the Holy Grail only seemed like child’s play to him.

“What do you want me to do next, Kirei? Just wait here?”

One wrong command could make Archer question the worth of his Master. Kirei, who knew this very well, shook his head after having thought about it for a while.

“The ceremony will be in jeopardy if your power is released close to the Holy Grail. If you want to have fun, then attack head-on.”

“Mm, fine. But what do you plan to do if you’re attacked while I’m away?”

“Get Berserker to stall the enemies and I’ll use that time to summon you back. I would have to borrow the power of the Command Seals, though. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“It is permitted. However, I can’t guarantee the safety of the Holy Grail. I won’t be merciful tonight. This narrow little room may be completely destroyed.”

“That would be the worst outcome, but it would also be fate.”

Kirei nodded decisively, but Archer narrowed his eyes.

“Kirei, it looks as if you have understood the meaning of this war. But do you still not have a wish to bestow upon the Holy Grail? Not a single wish, even if you do manage to obtain the miracle?”

“That’s right. What’s wrong with that?”

“Although it’s yet to be completed, the ‘vessel’ is already in your hands. It may accept a ‘pre-ordered’ wish, you know.”

“… Hmm, I see. You’re saying that, if possible, a miracle can occur at the same time when the Holy Grail descends, right?”

Kirei sighed disinterestedly and thought about it for a while. In the end, he still shook his head.

“I still don’t have a wish. If I have to have one – then I wish for there not to be any innocent people meddling with us in the final battle. Unfortunately, there are residents all around us. I had wanted to fight for my victory somewhere desolate if possible.”

Hearing this completely boring answer, Gilgamesh said with derision.

“Hah, the thing hiding in your heart will only be truly understood in the presence of the Holy Grail.”

At the end of the day, even if those two were closer to the Holy Grail than anyone else, they also cared the least for it. For those two, compared to gaining the Holy Grail, it was more meaningful to chase away those who had gathered because of it.

“– Ah, there’s one more thing. If Saber appears before I return –”

As he was about to depart, the King of Heroes halted in his steps as if having suddenly thought of something.

“– Then let Berserker play with her for a little while. I saved that mad dog’s life just for this.”

“Understood.”

Kirei still could not figure out the reason why Archer was so bent on Saber. As for Berserker, who had longed to destroy the King of Heroes after their initial battle, things were different. The King of Heroes had allowed for Berserker’s continued existence after discovering his true name in his investigation of Matō Kariya. He had said, "It'll be entertaining to let that dog bite Saber.” The King of Heroes could always control his anger whenever it came to Saber; it seemed Gilgamesh was very interested in the King of Knights.

“Say, Kirei, how’s that doll, the one Saber protected at the risk of her life? I heard that whatchamacallit – Vessel of the Grail – is in it.”

“Ah, that's what you meant.”

Kirei did not want to mention its existence. His interest was gone at this stage; he did not even feel the need to remember the woman’s name.

“I just killed her. There was no longer any reason to keep her alive.”

<center>※※※※※</center>

Irisviel opened her eyes and looked around at her surroundings.

She felt very strange. Her consciousness was impeccably clear, and yet she could not think logically.

It seemed like it was not her mentality that had become muddled and nonsensical, but the world she was in.

Many scenes flashed past her eyes. When she beheld them, the only emotion that welled up within her heart was an unbearable sorrow and emptiness.

The scenes reflected in her eyes were eternally sundered from happiness or joy. That was the only constant in this kaleidoscope of confusion.

There was pain, there was humiliation, and there was regret, hatred, and loss.

Bloodshed and a desolate land. Betrayal and vengeance. Having devoted everything and yet receiving nothing in return – it was an expensive cycle that reaped no rewards.

The familiar snow-covered scene continued on.

It was recounting the story of a clan that had sealed all it possessed within a castle of deep winter.

And here she finally remembered – what she was looking down upon was the Einsbern family's thousand-year-long pilgrimage for the Holy Grail.

The primeval Justizia and the female dolls modeled after her… They were homunculi, fake living beings.

They were humanoid disposables created with the secret craft of alchemy and used to fulfill the unattainable lasting wish.

This lost and confused history of the Einsbern clan was written with their blood and tears as ink and their broken bones and frozen fingertips as pens. Their sighs and their despair made Irisviel’s heart clench tight.

If any place had existed such that allowed her to see all of this, then it could only be the epicenter of the entire conflict, within the thing that had witnessed all.

Irisviel finally understood. She was looking inside the Holy Grail.

It was the Greater Grail that embraced the primeval Justizia, the Greater Grail of Mount Enzō. All homunculi were manufactured to the standard of the ‘Lady of Winter’, using her as their model. Therefore, they shared the same pain.

– No, was that really the truth?

“Why are you crying, Mother?”

When she came to, Irisviel discovered that she was in the room of her child, protected by the warmth of the fireplace.

Icy wind and snow gathered outside the window and the storm roared past. A pair of tiny hands clutched her mother’s arms tightly in search of protection.

“Mother, Illya had a nightmare. I dreamed that I became a wine cup.”

Although her heart was terrified, Illyaviel’s two red eyes still looked at Irisviel with trust. Though her face looked the same as her mother's and all of her sisters', this child was different. She was more adorable than anyone else –

“There were seven big blocks in Illya’s heart. When Illya felt like she was about to break and was so scared but couldn’t run away, she heard Justizia-sama’s voice, and there was a big black hole above my head…”

Iriviel embraced her daughter tightly. Her silver-white fringe brushed past her daughter’s face, which was wet with tears.

“It’s alright, it’s alright… That won’t happen. You won’t see such things, Illya.”

There was one sad wish that only Irisviel possessed out of her innumerable sisters and could not share with anyone else – and that was the maternal love of a ‘Mother’.

Out of the many generations of homunculi, she had been the first to give birth to a child from her womb. Out of all of her kind, only she had been given a love for her child. But even so, the fate she carried was just as lamentable.

Illyasviel von Einsbern was the next Vessel of the Grail, and also a mechanical part swept up in the thousand-year-old cogwheel of delusion and stubbornness.

This shackle would not break until someone claimed victory.

The Third Magic, the Cup of Heaven – that achievement was the only salvation.

Many sounds rushed towards Irisviel. She chanted with her countless sisters.

The Holy Grail –

Please grant the Holy Grail into my hands –

Deep within the forest, where the used homunculi were discarded, the mountain of corpses composed of her kin chanted. Those rotten, maggot-infested faces overlapped with Illya’s young and small face, and emitted those painful sounds.

“It’s alright –”

Full of love, the mother hugged her daughter tightly in her arms.

“Illya, you’ll definitely be freed from this shackle of fate. I will finish everything. Your daddy will definitely fulfill this wish as well…”

At that moment, a question suddenly flashed past her thoughts.

If this was a dream conjured by the Holy Grail – since she could see the ‘Vessel’ within so clearly and it had taken shape – then what would Irisviel, who served as the outer cover, look like now?

It was as if the eggshell could see the innards of the chick.

If so, then this would be a giant contradiction. The shell was supposed to break when the chick hatched.

Then – who was the Irisviel that was dreaming?

The touch of Illyasviel’s slender body, which she was hugging tightly, was so realistic. Irisviel looked to her own hands, which were hugging her daughter.

Irisviel had already disappeared. If the chick had consumed the broken shell…

The falling snow outside the window suddenly stopped. What melted into the darkness of the night was a thick black mud that stirred up ripples.

She wasn’t scared, nor was she surprised; she only comprehended it calmly and gazed upon it. The mud seeped in from all corners of the room and dripped from the chimney, slowly soaking the ground under her feet.

Yes, the question of ‘who am I?’ was so minuscule.

She had been no one since the start. Even now, she was still ‘someone’ who used the personality of Irisviel, a woman who had already disappeared, as a mask.

Even so, Irisviel’s wish, hidden in her heart, remained true. It was the wish of a mother who thought of her beloved daughter and lamented the future of her child even as she drew her last breath and passed away. She had inherited the wish of this mother.

Therefore, she was the one who must fulfill that wish.

She was the existence that had been worshipped and anticipated because she was to grant everyone’s wish, because she was made to be the one.

“– It’s alright, Illyasviel, everything is about to end.”

Gently, she murmured beside the ear of the young girl, whom she was embracing for the first time.

“So let us wait here awhile. Father will definitely come. He’ll come to help us fulfill all of our wishes.”

The scorching mud that clung tightly to her had elegantly dyed her skirt black.

As she waited for the moment when the wish would be granted, the woman with her body entangled in the inky darkness smiled.

Dispel all sorrows and chase away all worries.

Soon, she would receive the power to fulfill wishes and become the omnipotent wish-granting vessel that could realize all.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_15_Part_4|Act 15, Part 4]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_1|Act 16, Part 1]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Fate/Zero:Act 15 Part 5

2011-01-28T00:04:41Z

Fishnchips:

=== -04:10:33 ===

Fuyuki City Hall –

This structure, which had been built at the cost of eight billion yen, was considered the symbol of Fuyuki Shinto’s development, along with the Central Building in front of the train station. It covered an area of 6600 square meters and had 4700 square meters of usable space. Its complex design housed four floors above ground and one floor below. The two-story music hall could accommodate about 3000 patrons. The building's prestigious architect had created a novel design that made this modern City Hall as majestic and splendid as an ancient shrine. Fuyuki City's high ambition toward Shinto's development could thus be seen in physical form.

However, only the exterior was complete. The interior was still being decorated in preparation for the commemoration ceremony. Active and practical use of the building was still a long way off. In addition to the minimal level of safety precautions, the building still had no access to electricity. Deep in the night, with no workers on site, this pristine and splendid building became an unreal space, with an inhuman silence and an alien feeling flowing and drifting through its emptiness.

Civil planning did not take magecraft into consideration. It was a complete coincidence that the City Hall had been built on top of Fuyuki’s latest leyline – in other words, such a rare coincidence could only be attributed to the paranormal characteristics bestowed upon the area by the leyline.

Kotomine Kirei stood on the rooftop and calmly watched the magecraft signals he had set off as they scattered to smoke in the night wind. The only thing he had needed to do to infiltrate the unguarded building was break the lock. He had already made preparations for the ceremony and was ready to confront an attack. All that was left was to stay and wait for the remaining enemies to be attracted by the signal.

Battle was near, and yet he did not seem to be affected by the thought at all. Executors did not need to be excited with the prospect of bloodshed, nor did they need to jest to relieve the tension. They possessed the ideal characteristics of the tools of God’s will, and would gallop toward death with hearts knowing only the routine completion of yet another duty. Long years of such training allowed Kirei to display the calm and nonchalance of a practicing surgeon.

However –

“Hmph. Your face tonight is as cold as ever, Kirei.”

Archer, who was walking up to the rooftop with a relaxed gait, mocked him. Kirei laughed bitterly in his heart.

What did his face, emotionless as always, look like in the eyes of this Heroic Spirit who could see through everything? Even the shifts in his emotions that he himself could not detect were unable to escape from the Heroic Spirit’s eyes.

Although his heart had wavered in the beginning, Kirei was used to it by now. Yes, he was a cold man in truth – he understood himself as though he was analyzing the business of another.

The King of Heroes, who had just returned from the night market in the street, still wore his flamboyant and luxurious casual clothing. A residual tint of indulgence remained in those crimson eyes, and he showed no sense of urgency at the approaching battle. However, this Heroic Spirit would never separate his outer appearance from his inner feelings. The battle surrounding the Holy Grail only seemed like child’s play to him.

“What do you want me to do next, Kirei? Just wait here?”

One wrong command could make Archer question the worth of his Master. Kirei, who knew this very well, shook his head after having thought about it for a while.

“The ceremony will be in jeopardy if your power is released close to the Holy Grail. If you want to have fun, then attack head-on.”

“Mm, fine. But what do you plan to do if you’re attacked while I’m away?”

“Get Berserker to stall the enemies and I’ll use that time to summon you back. I would have to borrow the power of the Command Seals, though. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“It is permitted. However, I can’t guarantee the safety of the Holy Grail. I won’t be merciful tonight. This narrow little room may be completely destroyed.”

“That would be the worst outcome, but it would also be fate.”

Kirei nodded decisively, but Archer narrowed his eyes.

“Kirei, it looks as if you have understood the meaning of this war. But do you still not have a wish to bestow upon the Holy Grail? Not a single wish, even if you do manage to obtain the miracle?”

“That’s right. What’s wrong with that?”

“Although it’s yet to be completed, the ‘vessel’ is already in your hands. It may accept a ‘pre-ordered’ wish, you know.”

“… Hmm, I see. You’re saying that, if possible, a miracle can occur at the same time when the Holy Grail descends, right?”

Kirei sighed disinterestedly and thought about it for a while. In the end, he still shook his head.

“I still don’t have a wish. If I have to have one – then I wish for there not to be any innocent people meddling with us in the final battle. Unfortunately, there are residents all around us. I had wanted to fight for my victory somewhere desolate if possible.”

Hearing this completely boring answer, Gilgamesh said with derision.

“Hah, the thing hiding in your heart will only be truly understood in the presence of the Holy Grail.”

At the end of the day, even if those two were closer to the Holy Grail than anyone else, they also cared the least for it. For those two, compared to gaining the Holy Grail, it was more meaningful to chase away those who had gathered because of it.

“– Ah, there’s one more thing. If Saber appears before I return –”

As he was about to depart, the King of Heroes halted in his steps as if having suddenly thought of something.

“– Then let Berserker play with her for a little while. I saved that mad dog’s life just for this.”

“Understood.”

Kirei still could not figure out the reason why Archer was so bent on Saber. As for Berserker, who had longed to destroy the King of Heroes after their initial battle, things were different. The King of Heroes had allowed for Berserker’s continued existence after discovering his true name in his investigation of Matō Kariya. He had said, "It'll be entertaining to let that dog bite Saber.” The King of Heroes could always control his anger whenever it came to Saber; it seemed Gilgamesh was very interested in the King of Knights.

“Say, Kirei, how’s that doll, the one Saber protected at the risk of her life? I heard that whatchamacallit – Vessel of the Grail – is in it.”

“Ah, that's what you meant.”

Kirei did not want to mention its existence. His interest was gone at this stage; he did not even feel the need to remember the woman’s name.

“I just killed her. There was no longer any reason to keep her alive.”

<center>※※※※※</center>

Irisviel opened her eyes and looked around at her surroundings.

She felt very strange. Her consciousness was impeccably clear, and yet she could not think logically.

It seemed like it was not her mentality that had become muddled and nonsensical, but the world she was in.

Many scenes flashed past her eyes. When she beheld them, the only emotion that welled up within her heart was an unbearable sorrow and emptiness.

The scenes reflected in her eyes were eternally sundered from happiness or joy. That was the only constant in this kaleidoscope of confusion.

There was pain, there was humiliation, and there was regret, hatred, and loss.

Bloodshed and a desolate land. Betrayal and vengeance. Having devoted everything and yet receiving nothing in return – it was an expensive cycle that reaped no rewards.

The familiar snow-covered scene continued on.

It was recounting the story of a clan that had sealed all it possessed within a castle of deep winter.

And here she finally remembered – what she was looking down upon was the Einsbern family's thousand-year-long pilgrimage for the Holy Grail.

The primeval Justizia and the female dolls modeled after her… They were homunculi, fake living beings.

They were humanoid disposables created with the secret craft of alchemy and used to fulfill the unattainable lasting wish.

This lost and confused history of the Einsbern clan was written with their blood and tears as ink and their broken bones and frozen fingertips as pens. Their sighs and their despair made Irisviel’s heart clench tight.

If any place had existed such that allowed her to see all of this, then it could only be the epicenter of the entire conflict, within the thing that had witnessed all.

Irisviel finally understood. She was looking inside the Holy Grail.

It was the Greater Grail that embraced the primeval Justizia, the Greater Grail of Mount Enzō. All homunculi were manufactured to the standard of the ‘Lady of Winter’, using her as their model. Therefore, they shared the same pain.

– No, was that really the truth?

“Why are you crying, Mother?”

When she came to, Irisviel discovered that she was in the room of her child, protected by the warmth of the fireplace.

Icy wind and snow gathered outside the window and the storm roared past. A pair of tiny hands clutched her mother’s arms tightly in search of protection.

“Mother, Illya had a nightmare. I dreamed that I became a wine cup.”

Although her heart was terrified, Illyaviel’s two red eyes still looked at Irisviel with trust. Though her face looked the same as her mother's and all of her sisters', this child was different. She was more adorable than anyone else –

“There were seven big blocks in Illya’s heart. When Illya felt like she was about to break and was so scared but couldn’t run away, she heard Justizia-sama’s voice, and there was a big black hole above my head…”

Iriviel embraced her daughter tightly. Her silver-white fringe brushed past her daughter’s face, which was wet with tears.

“It’s alright, it’s alright… That won’t happen. You won’t see such things, Illya.”

There was one sad wish that only Irisviel possessed out of her innumerable sisters and could not share with anyone else – and that was the maternal love of a ‘Mother’.

Out of the many generations of homunculi, she had been the first to give birth to a child from her womb. Out of all of her kind, only she had been given a love for her child. But even so, the fate she carried was just as lamentable.

Illyasviel von Einsbern was the next Vessel of the Grail, and also a mechanical part swept up in the thousand-year-old cogwheel of delusion and stubbornness.

This shackle would not break until someone claimed victory.

The Third Magic, the Cup of Heaven – that achievement was the only salvation.

Many sounds rushed towards Irisviel. She chanted with her countless sisters.

The Holy Grail –

Please grant the Holy Grail into my hands –

Deep within the forest, where the used homunculi were discarded, the mountain of corpses composed of her kin chanted. Those rotten, maggot-infested faces overlapped with Illya’s young and small face, and emitted those painful sounds.

“It’s alright –”

Full of love, the mother hugged her daughter tightly in her arms.

“Illya, you’ll definitely be freed from this shackle of fate. I will finish everything. Your daddy will definitely fulfill this wish as well…”

At that moment, a question suddenly flashed past her thoughts.

If this was a dream conjured by the Holy Grail – since she could see the ‘Vessel’ within so clearly and it had taken shape – then what would Irisviel, who served as the outer cover, look like now?

It was as if the eggshell could see the innards of the chick.

If so, then this would be a giant contradiction. The shell was supposed to break when the chick hatched.

Then – who was the Irisviel that was dreaming?

The touch of Illyasviel’s slender body, which she was hugging tightly, was so realistic. Irisviel looked to her own hands, which were hugging her daughter.

Irisviel had already disappeared. If the chick had consumed the broken shell…

The falling snow outside the window suddenly stopped. What melted into the darkness of the night was a thick black mud that stirred up ripples.

She wasn’t scared, nor was she surprised; she only comprehended it calmly and gazed upon it. The mud seeped in from all corners of the room and dripped from the chimney, slowly soaking the ground under her feet.

Yes, the question of ‘who am I?’ was so minuscule.

She had been no one since the start. Even now, she was still ‘someone’ who used the personality of Irisviel, a woman who had already disappeared, as a mask.

Even so, Irisviel’s wish, hidden in her heart, remained true. It was the wish of a mother who thought of her beloved daughter and lamented the future of her child even as she drew her last breath and passed away. She had inherited the wish of this mother.

Therefore, she was the one who must fulfill that wish.

She was the existence that had been worshipped and anticipated because she was to grant everyone’s wish, because she was made to be the one.

“– It’s alright, Illyasviel, everything is about to end.”

Gently, she murmured beside the ear of the young girl, whom she was embracing for the first time.

“So let us wait here awhile. Father will definitely come. He’ll come to help us fulfill all of our wishes.”

The scorching mud that clung tightly to her had elegantly dyed her skirt black.

As she waited for the moment when the wish would be granted, the woman with her body entangled in the inky darkness smiled.

Dispel all sorrows and chase away all worries.

Soon, she would receive the power to fulfill wishes and become the omnipotent wish-granting vessel that could grant all.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_15_Part_4|Act 15, Part 4]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_1|Act 16, Part 1]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Fate/Zero:Act 15 Part 5

2011-01-28T00:03:31Z

Fishnchips:

=== -04:10:33 ===

Fuyuki City Hall –

This structure, which had been built at the cost of eight billion yen, was considered the symbol of Fuyuki Shinto’s development, along with the Central Building in front of the train station. It covered an area of 6600 square meters and had 4700 square meters of usable space. Its complex design housed four floors above ground and one floor below. The two-story music hall could accommodate about 3000 patrons. The building's prestigious architect had created a novel design that made this modern City Hall as majestic and splendid as an ancient shrine. Fuyuki City's high ambition toward Shinto's development could thus be seen in physical form.

However, only the exterior was complete. The interior was still being decorated in preparation for the commemoration ceremony. Active and practical use of the building was still a long way off. In addition to the minimal level of safety precautions, the building still had no access to electricity. Deep in the night, with no workers on site, this pristine and splendid building became an unreal space, with an inhuman silence and an alien feeling flowing and drifting through its emptiness.

Civil planning did not take magecraft into consideration. It was a complete coincidence that the City Hall had been built on top of Fuyuki’s latest leyline – in other words, such a rare coincidence could only be attributed to the paranormal characteristics bestowed upon the area by the leyline.

Kotomine Kirei stood on the rooftop and calmly watched the magecraft signals he had set off as they scattered to smoke in the night wind. The only thing he had needed to do to infiltrate the unguarded building was break the lock. He had already made preparations for the ceremony and was ready to confront an attack. All that was left was to stay and wait for the remaining enemies to be attracted by the signal.

Battle was near, and yet he did not seem to be affected by the thought at all. Executors did not need to be excited with the prospect of bloodshed, nor did they need to jest to relieve the tension. They possessed the ideal characteristics of the tools of God’s will, and would gallop toward death with hearts knowing only the routine completion of yet another duty. Long years of such training allowed Kirei to display the calm and nonchalance of a practicing surgeon.

However –

“Hmph. Your face tonight is as cold as ever, Kirei.”

Archer, who was walking up to the rooftop with a relaxed gait, mocked him. Kirei laughed bitterly in his heart.

What did his face, emotionless as always, look like in the eyes of this Heroic Spirit who could see through everything? Even the shifts in his emotions that he himself could not detect were unable to escape from the Heroic Spirit’s eyes.

Although his heart had wavered in the beginning, Kirei was used to it by now. Yes, he was a cold man in truth – he understood himself as though he was analyzing the business of another.

The King of Heroes, who had just returned from the night market in the street, still wore his flamboyant and luxurious casual clothing. A residual tint of indulgence remained in those crimson eyes, and he showed no sense of urgency at the approaching battle. However, this Heroic Spirit would never separate his outer appearance from his inner feelings. The battle surrounding the Holy Grail only seemed like child’s play to him.

“What do you want me to do next, Kirei? Just wait here?”

One wrong command could make Archer question the worth of his Master. Kirei, who knew this very well, shook his head after having thought about it for a while.

“The ceremony will be in jeopardy if your power is released close to the Holy Grail. If you want to have fun, then attack head-on.”

“Mm, fine. But what do you plan to do if you’re attacked while I’m away?”

“Get Berserker to stall the enemies and I’ll use that time to summon you back. I would have to borrow the power of the Command Seals, though. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“It is permitted. However, I can’t guarantee the safety of the Holy Grail. I won’t be merciful tonight. This narrow little room may be completely destroyed.”

“That would be the worst outcome, but it would also be fate.”

Kirei nodded decisively, but Archer narrowed his eyes.

“Kirei, it looks as if you have understood the meaning of this war. But do you still not have a wish to bestow upon the Holy Grail? Not a single wish, even if you do manage to obtain the miracle?”

“That’s right. What’s wrong with that?”

“Although it’s yet to be completed, the ‘vessel’ is already in your hands. It may accept a ‘pre-ordered’ wish, you know.”

“… Hmm, I see. You’re saying that, if possible, a miracle can occur at the same time when the Holy Grail descends, right?”

Kirei sighed disinterestedly and thought about it for a while. In the end, he still shook his head.

“I still don’t have a wish. If I have to have one – then I wish for there not to be any innocent people meddling with us in the final battle. Unfortunately, there are residents all around us. I had wanted to fight for my victory somewhere desolate if possible.”

Hearing this completely boring answer, Gilgamesh said with derision.

“Hah, the thing hiding in your heart will only be truly understood in the presence of the Holy Grail.”

At the end of the day, even if those two were closer to the Holy Grail than anyone else, they also cared the least for it. For those two, compared to gaining the Holy Grail, it was more meaningful to chase away those who had gathered because of it.

“– Ah, there’s one more thing. If Saber appears before I return –”

As he was about to depart, the King of Heroes halted in his steps as if having suddenly thought of something.

“– Then let Berserker play with her for a little while. I saved that mad dog’s life just for this.”

“Understood.”

Kirei still could not figure out the reason why Archer was so bent on Saber. As for Berserker, who had longed to destroy the King of Heroes after their initial battle, things were different. The King of Heroes had allowed for Berserker’s continued existence after discovering his true name in his investigation of Matō Kariya. He had said, "It'll be entertaining to let that dog bite Saber.” The King of Heroes could always control his anger whenever it came to Saber; it seemed Gilgamesh was very interested in the King of Knights.

“Say, Kirei, how’s that doll, the one Saber protected at the risk of her life? I heard that whatchamacallit – Vessel of the Grail – is in it.”

“Ah, that's what you meant.”

Kirei did not want to mention its existence. His interest was gone at this stage; he did not even feel the need to remember the woman’s name.

“I just killed her. There’s no longer any reason to keep her alive.”

<center>※※※※※</center>

Irisviel opened her eyes and looked around at her surroundings.

She felt very strange. Her consciousness was impeccably clear, and yet she could not think logically.

It seemed like it was not her mentality that had become muddled and nonsensical, but the world she was in.

Many scenes flashed past her eyes. When she beheld them, the only emotion that welled up within her heart was an unbearable sorrow and emptiness.

The scenes reflected in her eyes were eternally sundered from happiness or joy. That was the only constant in this kaleidoscope of confusion.

There was pain, there was humiliation, and there was regret, hatred, and loss.

Bloodshed and a desolate land. Betrayal and vengeance. Having devoted everything and yet receiving nothing in return – it was an expensive cycle that reaped no rewards.

The familiar snow-covered scene continued on.

It was recounting the story of a clan that had sealed all it possessed within a castle of deep winter.

And here she finally remembered – what she was looking down upon was the Einsbern family's thousand-year-long pilgrimage for the Holy Grail.

The primeval Justizia and the female dolls modeled after her… They were homunculi, fake living beings.

They were humanoid disposables created with the secret craft of alchemy and used to fulfill the unattainable lasting wish.

This lost and confused history of the Einsbern clan was written with their blood and tears as ink and their broken bones and frozen fingertips as pens. Their sighs and their despair made Irisviel’s heart clench tight.

If any place had existed such that allowed her to see all of this, then it could only be the epicenter of the entire conflict, within the thing that had witnessed all.

Irisviel finally understood. She was looking inside the Holy Grail.

It was the Greater Grail that embraced the primeval Justizia, the Greater Grail of Mount Enzō. All homunculi were manufactured to the standard of the ‘Lady of Winter’, using her as their model. Therefore, they shared the same pain.

– No, was that really the truth?

“Why are you crying, Mother?”

When she came to, Irisviel discovered that she was in the room of her child, protected by the warmth of the fireplace.

Icy wind and snow gathered outside the window and the storm roared past. A pair of tiny hands clutched her mother’s arms tightly in search of protection.

“Mother, Illya had a nightmare. I dreamed that I became a wine cup.”

Although her heart was terrified, Illyaviel’s two red eyes still looked at Irisviel with trust. Though her face looked the same as her mother's and all of her sisters', this child was different. She was more adorable than anyone else –

“There were seven big blocks in Illya’s heart. When Illya felt like she was about to break and was so scared but couldn’t run away, she heard Justizia-sama’s voice, and there was a big black hole above my head…”

Iriviel embraced her daughter tightly. Her silver-white fringe brushed past her daughter’s face, which was wet with tears.

“It’s alright, it’s alright… That won’t happen. You won’t see such things, Illya.”

There was one sad wish that only Irisviel possessed out of her innumerable sisters and could not share with anyone else – and that was the maternal love of a ‘Mother’.

Out of the many generations of homunculi, she had been the first to give birth to a child from her womb. Out of all of her kind, only she had been given a love for her child. But even so, the fate she carried was just as lamentable.

Illyasviel von Einsbern was the next Vessel of the Grail, and also a mechanical part swept up in the thousand-year-old cogwheel of delusion and stubbornness.

This shackle would not break until someone claimed victory.

The Third Magic, the Cup of Heaven – that achievement was the only salvation.

Many sounds rushed towards Irisviel. She chanted with her countless sisters.

The Holy Grail –

Please grant the Holy Grail into my hands –

Deep within the forest, where the used homunculi were discarded, the mountain of corpses composed of her kin chanted. Those rotten, maggot-infested faces overlapped with Illya’s young and small face, and emitted those painful sounds.

“It’s alright –”

Full of love, the mother hugged her daughter tightly in her arms.

“Illya, you’ll definitely be freed from this shackle of fate. I will finish everything. Your daddy will definitely fulfill this wish as well…”

At that moment, a question suddenly flashed past her thoughts.

If this was a dream conjured by the Holy Grail – since she could see the ‘Vessel’ within so clearly and it had taken shape – then what would Irisviel, who served as the outer cover, look like now?

It was as if the eggshell could see the innards of the chick.

If so, then this would be a giant contradiction. The shell was supposed to break when the chick hatched.

Then – who was the Irisviel that was dreaming?

The touch of Illyasviel’s slender body, which she was hugging tightly, was so realistic. Irisviel looked to her own hands, which were hugging her daughter.

Irisviel had already disappeared. If the chick had consumed the broken shell…

The falling snow outside the window suddenly stopped. What melted into the darkness of the night was a thick black mud that stirred up ripples.

She wasn’t scared, nor was she surprised; she only comprehended it calmly and gazed upon it. The mud seeped in from all corners of the room and dripped from the chimney, slowly soaking the ground under her feet.

Yes, the question of ‘who am I?’ was so minuscule.

She had been no one since the start. Even now, she was still ‘someone’ who used the personality of Irisviel, a woman who had already disappeared, as a mask.

Even so, Irisviel’s wish, hidden in her heart, remained true. It was the wish of a mother who thought of her beloved daughter and lamented the future of her child even as she drew her last breath and passed away. She had inherited the wish of this mother.

Therefore, she was the one who must fulfill that wish.

She was the existence that had been worshipped and anticipated because she was to grant everyone’s wish, because she was made to be the one.

“– It’s alright, Illyasviel, everything is about to end.”

Gently, she murmured beside the ear of the young girl, whom she was embracing for the first time.

“So let us wait here awhile. Father will definitely come. He’ll come to help us fulfill all of our wishes.”

The scorching mud that clung tightly to her had elegantly dyed her skirt black.

As she waited for the moment when the wish would be granted, the woman with her body entangled in the inky darkness smiled.

Dispel all sorrows and chase away all worries.

Soon, she would receive the power to fulfill wishes and become the omnipotent wish-granting vessel that could grant all.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_15_Part_4|Act 15, Part 4]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_1|Act 16, Part 1]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>