into Berserker: last

"Life and death, one cannot exist without the other.
The same holds true for friends and rivals as well.
However does this eternal struggle hold any meaning?"
-Chimeric Sea 6, Fate/Extra

A gust of winds sweeps through the plains sending ripples through what could only be described as a sea of grass yet the world seems motionless as step by step she, holding onto all her meager possessions, marches in the direction I am facing. I don't say anything to stop her even if every fiber of my body tells me to. I don't say anything because I shouldn't say anything. Saying anything will destroy both our futures, no matter how miserable they already seem. So I'll return, I return to this place because if my end is a miserable future that I have shackled myself to, then this past will be the only thing I truly have. So without regret or bitterness I'll brand this scene into my heart and onto my soul as my fate.

So I can't stop here.

Not here, under this soot-filled sky where an insurmountable gate is right in front of me, guarded by a demon. Of course, he could only be a demon; one only needs to glimpse the scenery that I did not notice beforehand.

Red.

This hill I have fallen atop of is made out of my fellow soldiers. I can even make out familiar faces that I have supped with. Fear grips my stomach, disgust threatens to overwhelm me, and therefore my mind is overridden but not enough so that I cannot dull the fear of an almost world-reverberating thud right next to me. The place a headless corpse was occupying is taken over by an assortment of limbs too crushed to identify.

Ahhh…

-it's scary, it's really scary.

This is absolutely terrifying.

Is this the end?

Dying like this.

Completely suffocating on a mountain of bodies?

I don't want that. Such an end is too miserable, even for someone like me. That's why even when I was blown back with the force of an explosion I held on so firmly to my broken spear.

Thud, the sound is continuous-

Thud, every second that passes, another sack of meat is added to this mountain of death. It's unbearable; it's just so unbearable that...

-without my permission the world becomes upright. It seems that with the last vestiges of any energy circulating my body I stood up. I stood up because dying like this is just so unbearably pathetic. Yet the moment I stood up my body roars at me to fall back.

Every fiber of my body tells me to do so. Why?

Footsteps that get louder and louder send my brain into haywire. It's a looming presence that doesn't ask my body to "fight or fly," it merely commands my body to fall down and my mind to die.

Footsteps… and…

-a cut that could only be called a ray of light went straight at my head. It was so fast that I wasn't even allowed any time to dodge. No, it wasn't that I wasn't allowed to dodge but because I wasn't even allotted any time to defend myself; therefore, this blood soaked field is the final scene my eyes will lay upon.

Ahhh… it seems that plain is a destination I can never return to…

The blood red sky confirms that this place is hell, so then this gigantic gate has to be the gateway to the outside, or is it merely a portal into a deeper hell?

It doesn't matter because no one can pass through that gate while that sort of dog is guarding it. Once upon a time I heard a story from a traveler about a dog which guards the gates of hell. The dog right in front of me definitely resembles said dog. I haven't felt this kind of despair since that day. The emotions and the situation might be different but the sensation is exactly the same, making my blood which was feebly trudging through my veins now feels like molten metal; searing everything until I finally acknowledge it.

Death, this is a world covered in death.

Proof? Merely look at the mounds, colored black and brown from the leather, near the gate. They, like me, were mere fodder for this demon, but that doesn't matter anymore because it hurts. I'm sure I look like some kind of monster. Yet even with this cursed blood flowing though my veins there is no doubt who the true demon is.

It's not an unfamiliar story these days. A tyrant rose among the people; an evil, cruel tyrant according to us, but a benevolent leader according to himself. Either way, it doesn't matter because no matter who is good and who is evil there still exists a difference in opinion which will lead to a disagreement and if two powerful people disagree… well, this is the result isn't it?

Two gigantic armies clash and one will win, eventually. That's the theory anyway. As for the application, well it's this hell. That isn't much of a change from before so essentially, I'm fine. I'm fine even if I'm squiring on the ground cursing my ancestors; yes, that hasn't changed at all. Escaping, running, throwing my identity away, what were they for? I don't remember my exact feelings at that time anymore.

DIE

But I still understand the intent so I haven't lost everything. If so, what are my goals? What do I want to accomplish? I have nothing as normal as that. So why am I here? Why did I volunteer to become part of this sacrificial vanguard? I remember those bodies with their heads twisted off like screws asking me "Do you want to die?"

No, I don't want to die.

Then why am I here? Why am I squirming on the ground completely in pain amidst this crimson world facing a demon? I don't want to kill but I don't want to die either, so…

"Better someone else other than you, son."

My blood, molten just a second ago glaciates. Why did his voice come into my head? Cutting all ties means leaving him, of all people, behind.

"Quiet," with great effort I stop my impulse.

I don't need it. I don't need him.

I'll follow my orders. I'll open the gate so the rest of the army can take the victory. I'll need to anyway if I don't want to die.

So, I leave my static death behind because it is my despair. I nod to myself and stand up. There is no longer any pain in my body. It's just that my humanity is eroding. I can only tell that I am slowing moving towards the gate. It's unnatural; the air is so thick with a hanging mist of blood. This truly is just a land of death and the equivalent of its gatekeeper looms over me. His duty is to eliminate any intruders; he is a gatekeeper and at the same time an executioner. He is the strongest general and an "enemy which must be defeated." So it would be natural that the moment I approach him I realize I cannot defeat him.

"You are the last one." Even if he states it like a fact his hostility expands. "It's my job to kill anyone that tries to go forth here."

I lick my lips in anticipation, "But I haven't taken a step forward."

"But you will," his voice is flat and all-knowing.

He's right. Retreating means becoming a brick for that wall of bodies. Yet, I don't feel alive at all. There's no way I can kill him. My head will be cleaved off the moment I cross any blade with him so I need to do something else; something that I've hated about myself since the day I was born. I will use everything and anything to find a way to survive. There is only one way out of this. I turn around so my back is left unguarded.

"You are the final one. Show me what a mere human can do."

That remark really annoys me, making me clench my jaw and grip the short sword I found on a mere corpse with the tightest fist I can manage.

"In no way…"

I pivot, putting all my power into that one swing.

"-am I a human!"

With all my power I smash the short sword into the unguarded chest of the demon.

"I see you armed yourself. Insignificant as it may be, I will regard it as hostile action."

He's arrogant, that should be his weakness; however, when a person is like him, a weakness like that means nothing. His parry which flicks my own weapon back towards me is testament to that.

So I need to create an opening, it doesn't matter how I create that opening I just…so…

Thump…

The halberd quickly comes to claim my head.

Ignoring my own fear at the incoming threat, I swing the short sword catching the edge of the halberd. It's really heavy, so heavy that I doubt I can hold it for long. Yet…

Which of us surprised?

-I don't care.

What is the heat surrounding me growing inside and pervading my body each second?

-I don't care.

What is this curse which breaks my humanity to give me a chance of survival?

-I don't care.

This is merely an overdrive that leads to death or a torturous sleep. My body goes beyond godspeed. My blades roar like thunder. Every time I parry a blow my mind reads the next attack and my body responds by countering, but I can only manage to defend. The only attack allowed for me was the first; the rest of my time is spent defending against nimble flurries of blows thought to be impossible by a halberd. I've already blocked twenty fatal attacks.

Pain starts to grip my limbs, stopping time.

My mind cannot keep up with this body.

My mind cannot cope with this heat rushing from the center of my being.

That's why I haven't unleashed it yet. This may be an overdrive that leads to death, but the only alternative to this is death itself. I may be risking my life, but I am not surrendering my life for a chance to win. I am still human enough to treasure my own life, but this situation is not perfect. For some reason that I cannot control he is still manifold stronger than I am.

But I can manage.

My vision starts to flicker red with each blow I deflect, I can't bear it.

My mind and flesh are being scrapped off and my humanity is surely eroding, I definitely cannot bear it.

My mind screams with each of his earth-shaking blows, and death is the only conclusion that I can read. It's a mere thirty steps away.

Surprisingly though, there is no fear.

All I have is the inhuman joy of being able to fight and kill another existence. Yes, I start to hunger at such a disgusting wish. I start to no longer care about the mound of bodies just below me. I even start to disregard my own choice to live. Why did I leave that household again?

It doesn't matter.

He's trying to kill me.

I'm trying to kill him.

He won't use another function of his fabled weapon since I am too close to him; therefore, I have a chance to finally taste the blood I denied myself for so long. So…

-then I should move faster.

I, allowing the corruption to erode my humanity more completely, step to a higher gear. This sense of morality is annoying. I hate myself for thinking because the only thing on my mind is to kill that man.

Surrender.

Give in to it.

Let your soul be cast into that sea of flames.

KILL.

My body instinctively jumps back no matter how much my mind wants to keep moving forward to rip his heart out. It jumps back because if I didn't… that halberd would have been driven into my arm. No matter how far gone I am, self-preservation is my priority.

I try to catch my breath, but every part of me is on fire. It feels like the heat inside of me is coming out from my pores. I'm sure if someone strained their eyes they could see the aura of redness around me.

With a mundane sword in hand I merely stare at my death. I jumped ten meters back. Even he will need to take two steps to get able to hit me. With this buffer between us I can relax and I get my breath back, in time.

Crick…

I didn't notice it, did I? Even if I can match him… His weapon is so much superior to mine. Even if it is still made by man, it was made with him especially in mind. So it's a miracle that this sword didn't shatter in the first exchange of blows.

The roaring wind sweeps up the remains of that short sword and even the hilt is nothing anymore. The last vestiges of the sword that meant nothing to me is now dust in the wind, but I don't care. If it's a miracle which has brought me this far, then all I need is another miracle to take him down. So long as he doesn't kill me I can counter him. It's just a problem that my arms are losing their strength from defending against the monstrous two handed weapon, but fortunately I am still able to ignore the pain; however, I am unable to defend any more attacks from him. I can't tell what will happen in the next exchange of blows. So I have to find an opening right now and strike with everything I've got before he notices. But that's impossible, so I need a miracle.

"Impossible. You cannot even touch me like that."

But, he quickly shoots down my desperate idea.

"Why? I'm keeping up with you."

"How can you say that knowing your situation? No, you're charging ahead with this plan because you have nothing else. Your mind and body are at their limits and you do not even have a weapon. The moment my halberd touches you, your blood will consecrate this ground."

I know. I already know this, but I have no other option. I want to survive. So I have to defeat him right now even if I have nothing in my hands.

"I won't know until I try. I will attack and hope for a miracle, and if that miracle occurs in the next ten seconds then…"

"Boy, why are you praying for a miracle?"

His words contain such a callus meaning. I am sure for a man like him, this is the first time he has spoken with this much feeling, so it clears up my broken and crazy mind. What good is there praying for a miracle? That's right; I'll die if I can't beat him. But I still haven't lost my humanity. I don't want to turn into a demon. But it'd be completely meaningless if I keep my humanity and die. It won't do any good if I die here, but there's no point if I lose my humanity and survive.

"Boy, the rest of the army is fifteen minutes away, do you understand? The moment I defeat you they will be slaughtered, no matter who is in their army."

That's unthinkable. The moment I die the sacrificial vanguard would serve no purpose, we wouldn't even be sacrifices because sacrifices are losses incurred for victory. We will literally become fodder since we would have done nothing. We haven't even tired this demon out.

"Better someone else than yourself." The words which are branded in my mind sound again.

Shut up.

The moment I die the efforts of this gigantic mountain of men become zero as well. I'm not the type of person that would hold my humanity over something as large as this. But if I can defeat him, then we would have served our purpose. All these men volunteered for that purpose; all these men died for that purpose. Me? I didn't. I merely wanted to… something else. But last time I ran away from what was necessary, so I need to make up for it, at least to myself.

"Ha, maybe all this time I just wanted to be saved."

There is a meaning. The more I fight with him the less time the gate and him have to be prepared. But that's only for the moment. He may be a demon but he is also the tyrant's dog. He can be called back at any time. The tyrant would do that if he felt he was cornered by the imposing army coming to lay siege. Once that happens this gate won't fall at all and everyone will die, so all I have to do is keep this dog away from his master.

"You…" His words set the world into motion.

The only possible response is to lower my face.

"You are merely the last." His words that stop a world which can no longer be in motion.

My heart stops; no, my heart already stopped a few seconds ago. My body has started breaking down already. My fate was determined the moment I left the household. My body craves being close to life and my mind is occupied with fantasizing about tearing flesh apart. I don't even know what death is anymore, but I've clung onto life because I didn't want to die. Now… it simply does not matter anymore.

"Heh, so it's not like ridding myself of my humanity here won't accomplish anything,"

This gives me the intellectual alibi I need. There is a meaning if I can destroy the only gatekeeper. Even if I can't break into this gate the imposing army at my heels will, if given the chance. But really all I want is…

-to just let it all go.

I just want to tear him apart.

I close my eyes and let all the heat rush through my body. The veins which were glaciated start pumping molten metal again. I still haven't found what my true abilities are. I'm going to only let my bloodline dictate my next actions. The instant I let the heat completely overwhelm me the remaining forty percent of my brain is reduced to twenty. I forget names. I forget the names of a lot of times. My name included. Go further.

Find it.

Find it.

Find it.

What I truly am has to be there, the raw power of nature that has cursed my family's name. My bloodline boasts a history over ten generations, so there is no way we don't have the abilities to survive against those that wish to slay us, calling us unnatural, calling us demonic. Ten percent left. Leaving myself behind, I thrust myself into that sea of vermillion…

A cold, metallic orb in the sky, flowers blooming spreading more red poppies until they even invade the unchanging floor.

A flash, it's over in less than a second, the blade that was so slivery that it glinted in the sunlight is severed into two by a defiling red blade which curses itself.

Shadows, a clump of individual shadows, meets a hundred, no, a thousand of slivers made of the same dirty red.

His face is no longer recognizable, his limbs can no longer be called limbs as they would not function in the same way anymore, he's just a sack of meat, but he's alive. Why is he alive?

A body that needs no concrete form to continue; in no way is that vessel a survivable immortality.

Meaning?

-I suddenly wake up.

This is not one of the memories from my cursed bloodline, but my own. It is my first memory and ironically I believe it is now my last.

A dark night.

No one is home.

Because being alone is scary, I walk out to the garden to see everyone.

The garden of the mansion is very bright. It is surrounded by a deep, deep forest. The trees were very, very black. And they act as a giant curtain.

It is just like a theater. I got excited waiting for the curtain of trees to rise, and for the show to begin.

There's a lot of noise in the distance. Behind the curtain of black trees, everyone is having fun making a lot of noise.

The curtain doesn't rise yet. I couldn't wait and enter the forest.

It's very dark. The forest is deep and the cold light won't reach me.

It is just cold. The cold winter hurts the back of my eyes.

I think someone called my name, and I start walking deeper in.

The veil of trees. Everyone is waiting in the open field together. Cut into pieces, arms and legs all over the place.

An open field that is covered in vermillion and in the middle of the field surrounded by the limbs are two flames.

I don't understand.

Someone goes rushing at the two flames in the center of the field.

I really don't understand.

Because that person no longer has a head.

-I'm only a child so I don't understand

Splat.

It's cold by the time it reaches me.

It's still red though.

The redness that came from that head reaches even me.

I really don't understand because…

-those two flames are the people I call Mom and Dad.

I was only a child so I suppressed what I saw that day unable to accept that my father and mother were monsters. It was the desperate ploy by a child trying to save himself, but now with only ten percent of my mind left what was repressed is now my only thought and…

-I reach it. I reach the ability of this cursed family. What I am about to do is my limit. My last three attacks.

My enemy readies himself, able to feel my determination.

Who is that?

All the names were blown from my mind, but this enemy is…

KILL.

I don't have time to be thinking. I must kill while I still can.

I have to surpass my enemy in this exchange of blows so I tear at the wounds on my arms and fling the blood with all the strength that I can muster targeting the enemy's neck. The blood, crystallized into two dirty blades that defile the air that it rides, draws an arc so they intersect right on the enemy. The blades draw a beautiful cross. Nothing can come out unscathed after being trapped by such cursed blood. But he wouldn't be a worthy enemy if he couldn't as well. He easily redirects my two dirty red blades that attack from both sides at once. He has escaped the attack. I'm unarmed now; however I only threw those blades as a distraction because the moment he moved to defend himself I charge.

"The same weapon?"

KILL.

Twin blades again come out from the wounds and into opposing hands, but this time I do not throw them. Rather I close in and swing one of the blades.

"Useless, those blades cannot match me."

In one sweeping motion of the halberd my arm holding the left blade is taken off. Just like that, it's gone. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. The pain starts to override the impulse. My mind, already broken and crazy cannot take it and starts to…

KILL

A surprise attack comes from an unexpected direction.

"What?"

If I wasn't fighting a demon like him then I wouldn't need this arrangement.

Another sweeping motion and my other arm is gone, but I'm no longer thinking about that. The only thought that is occupying my mind is to kill. It's beyond an impulse now, it goes beyond an urge. A necessity? No it's much more primal than that. It's not a command either, no one is telling me to kill. So then it must be something that comes from within myself. But that doesn't matter because I no longer have any arms to hold a weapon so…

Time freezes.

We take an instant to assess each other's conditions. My attack ended. Two pairs of blades crystallized from my very own lifeblood; he blocked all my attacks and also cut off my arms. I can't do anything anymore and the enemy is in the perfect position to strike. He only needs to take one step to thrust that halberd into my heart. So there's nothing more. This battle has ended with my death. I am defenseless, and in a second I'll be dead.

But…

Instead of wishing for a miracle, I make a contract with a devil.

The enemy's expression changes from one of victory to one of puzzlement.

My last ten percent disappears.

KILL.

The blood he is standing on that I leaked from our first exchange impales his feet creating an opening by making him unable to deliver the final fatal strike. In that instant my stubs crystalize two gigantic dirty red blades which replace the arms that will never be regained.

"LU BU!"

KILL.

I slash his defense body from both sides.

I remembered it. I say the name of the "enemy that must be defeated," in my final moments. It's a shame because all I want to do is tear apart that body, so I don't know if it's something to regret or be proud of. Anyway I've defeated my enemy. This will be the only time in my life that I will use such an attack so I should rest now. My heart is beating and I should be able to stand back up after I wake. So for now, I'll sleep a bit and wait for the rest of the army to arrive.

Twin dirty red blades that replaced his arms are swung from both sides. He saw them coming but couldn't do anything to defend himself. He was caught unaware by the swords that sealed his movement. Having cut off two of the enemies limbs, he was blind to any chance of retaliation, and his limbs were occupied for just the briefest of moments. He falls on his back even if this attack isn't fatal. His ribs are been sliced through so he groans in pain. There was no impact; rather it was like cutting butter. He's only alive because of that damn magus his master decided to hire. If one truly wanted to end his life for sure they would have to stab his heart then dice him up. He'll be carried in and healed in ten minutes, a ridiculously short amount of time. But conversely, the gate will be unguarded for ten minutes.

"You were strong because you were the last, boy."

He calls out to the figure lying on the ground next to that pair of severed limbs.

His wounds are definitely fatal but with a body like his, it should be easy for him to stand up and stab the heart.

"No, that's wrong. You were the last because you were strong."

He talks between ragged breaths. The match is decided. Accepting his impending death, he calls out.

"End this battle. You have earned the right to end the life of the greatest general that ever lived."

There is no reply.

"Boy?"

He turns his head. He looks at the boy lying right next to him. There's no one there. The boy's heart is beating, and he is still breathing. His eyes are staring up at the ceiling but that's all there is. His mind could not handle becoming a Crimson Red Vermillion. The one whose arrogance held him back and the one who only saw what was next. The result is the one lying beside him.

"Then I have won boy."

There is no emotion in his voice. He's used to it. He has just seen a mound of enemies risk their lives and die meaninglessly. That's what it means to be strong; a person able to give up anything and everything to cut down his foes.

"Seven more minutes. Will they arrive?"

He looks at the grunts rushing to carry him back to that magus. There are no tears to be shed. The greatest general in the country waits for the invaders to penetrate the fortress. The beating of hooves can be heard at a distance. He doesn't care if his adopted father dies. For the first time in his life his heart only contains the slightest trace of pity for the nameless boy who dared challenge the heavens.