It was purely a matter of tactical advantage. First of all, we had the blue spearman who was, in essence, a shock troop. The golden king, despite his awesome power, was still an Archer. Moving into close combat would put him outside of his "power range" and make him a lot more vulnerable to attacks at that range, attacks that the blue spearman could deliver easily.
With his quick movements and immense strength with a weapon, he could effectively pin down the golden Archer, putting all of his effort into deflecting the rapid-fire blows coming from the ferocious spearman. The golden king realized this, his face forming a grim expression that told all who beheld it he knew exactly what situation he was in. Grim and unresponsive, what made him speak was none of the physical difficulties he was facing.
Of all things, it was the taunting and jibes from the blue spearman that pushed him to rage.
"Oi, golden bastard." The spearman began, punctuating his words with strikes from his lance, all the while wearing a smile oozing with arrogance and the joy of battle. "Where's all your swagger now? For all your arrogance, you're not actually that good at fighting, are you?"
His eyes and nostrils flared with rage as he responded and deflected an attack, "Dare you doubt your king, mongrel? Lay down and die for your insolence."
Big words for someone who's about to die. I thought. You've got nowhere to run. I nodded as my Archer drew the bow he carried, aiming at the golden knight. There was no love lost between myself and the blue spearman, and if I antagonized him in the process of defeating the golden king as quickly and efficiently as possible, then so be it. I nodded.
For a second, staring at the whirling, twirling storm of blades, the unreal speed and grace that I should have gotten used to in my days of watching Servants fight, I hesitated. Was this really something I should be interrupting, something that I could just waltz in and attack into? Was this duel, this show of strength above and beyond the reach of most, this exhibition of the limits of humanity and an inspiration to us all, was it something I had the right to interrupt?
Although right up to the last second these doubts swirled around in my head they stopped with the releasing of the bowstring, the same threaded arrow arcing through the air at the battle on the crippled ship. From that point on, it was the point of no return, the one point where I could have held back and enjoyed the moment of the fight gone.
For the first time since beginning to see the nonsensical conflicts I faced, I had decided to act. From the moment I had not stopped Archer from doing what he wished, I had tacitly decided on his course of action.
All this time I had always believed in heroes, in people who would save us from the darkness and despair that was everyday life and physical limitation. I had always thought that there would be people who would save us from the darkness, leading us all to a brighter future, as heroes, even if not always as warriors.
As this Grail War had proceeded, though, from the summoning of Heroic Spirits all the way down to the current situation, I realized that these so-called "heroes" were nothing more than destroyers glorified by myth and legend, Warriors and horribly human and fallible one and all, I finally understood that there was nothing that could change the flow of the world.
Nothing save one. The Holy Grail.
And if I had to push Archer to the very limit to obtain it and trample all of the things that I had once found to be worth it, that would be just fine. I knew he agreed with me, because for just a second I saw it again.
The field full of blades was actually a valley, a single pass. I looked forward, and there was the imposing figure of Archer, standing within a circle of blades, elevated from the valley floor. His back was to me, his hair flying out in the red sky of his Reality Marble. I said nothing, so he took the initiative.
"Look behind you." He said, without even turning around or acknowledging me. I turned around.
I saw the home on which I had read so much in my studies on Fuyuki, the Japanese-style home of Emiya Shirou, once owned by the Fourth Grail War participant Emiya Kiritsugu. Within, I could see figures moving about, shadows on the paper of the doors on the outside.
To be completely honest, I didn't get it.
I turned around to Archer to ask what all of this meant, hoping for an answer. And then as I turned around, I noticed why Archer stood higher than me, even if we were about the same height in real life.
He was standing on a pile of skulls, bones, and corpses, Blades buried in the sand next to him, in the rock walls of the cavern, in the bodies of those he had slain, he stood there, ready for the next wave.
In that moment, I understood.
Protect those for whom you care, never considering the cost.
Strike with all your heart; accept only victory.
Never forget that you yourself are damned, but those who live yet carry hope.
Those were the things I saw in that moment, the armoured figure of my Servant facing the sun, his red coat almost invisible in the red light of the eternal sky. In the background, I could see the brown gears that kept his life running, the essential truths that kept him alive, that gave him something to live for.
I knew nothing of his trials, but I knew the length and breadth of the things that he had done to save the world, both before and after becoming the Counter Guardian that he was. Identity still tenaciously kept secret, he showed me everything that he had gone through. At the end of that rush of images, three words rose unbidden to my lips, breaking free of their cage without any effort.
"Unlimited Blade Works." I whispered, so quietly that only I could hear it.
Was it a moment? Was it eternity? I cannot say. But the last thing I remember from the telepathic link I shared with Archer at that moment was him saying one line, one line that he seemed to have said so many times before, indicated by how naturally he said it.
"Can you keep up with me?" He asked. At the end of that simple sentence, the vision was no more.
Before me, the projectile arced through the sky, about to hit the battling Servants. And at that moment I knew that I had already decided my fate.
I watched in slow motion as the arrow descended upon the two Servants. Engrossed in the fight, they exchanged blows at lightning speed, without any sort of care about the surroundings. One enraged, the other ecstatic, they clashed atop the broken airship, blades dancing in a storm that engrossed both of them fully and completely. The arrow was in the middle of the sky now, and as the blue spearman whirled around, it happened.
The moment of truth, when a person's life changes because of one, irrevocable decision.
Somehow, I saw his eyes, how they moved towards the spear and knew that it was coming for him. I knew that he would move to dodge it, and that he would come for us after he made sure that the golden king would be nothing but ripped-apart energy and dust. I saw it in a moment, the fleeting second when my eyes met his.
He's going to kill me. That much I knew from that statement. There's no way he's not going to kill me.
I could easily repeat the arrow's attack, striking at multiple points around the spearman to make sure he couldn't come close to me. It would be easy. I didn't even need to hit him; I only had to put down enough explosions to vaporize both him and the golden king by repeating the attack. Even if I failed that, it would still give Archer enough time to react to what was going to happen, probably keeping myself alive a few more seconds. It was so easy, and it was so riskless. It was self-preservation against a rampaging warrior, so it was perfectly justified. There was only one thing holding me back.
What do you value more? I asked myself. On one hand, you have the power of Servants, beings beyond the normal of humanity, and what that entails. You get to watch everything, the glorious victory, the crushing defeat, all like it's so much larger than the life it truly is. On the other hand, you have all of the devastation they're inflicting, the city they're destroying with their power. I know for sure that they could kill you and everyone else in this town if they tried. If it weren't for the bounded field, there wouldn't be a city left.
Experience or existence. Those are my choices. Enjoy the experience and live the day, or break and destroy to save the world?
The choice is obvious. I stretch out my hand to the sky, towards the arrow, and begin to say the words.
Understand the nature of the event.
More than just an attack and a way to end the Servants in front of me, this is also my word and choice. In the past, there were things I wanted to protect, believing that ideals were above all. Therefore, for me, being able to summon a Servant, the crystallization of an ideal, and to get paid for it was a dream job. Not so anymore, now that I've seen the horror and devastation they can inflict.
I don't want that. I will end that.
Replicate the necessary ingredients.
It's simple enough to recreate such an action. The mental link I share with Archer will allow me to see inside the projection, and that will easily be enough. Prana's the only thing I need, and with the ability and knowledge to make a completely perfect recreation of the attack, I won't need much of even that.
Bring forth the knowledge required for execution.
A knowledge of projectile physics, arcs, and falling speeds, plus envisioning all of the different possibilities that the falling arrow presented and choosing the ones with the best ends, causing the largest blasts in an inescapable pattern around the battle. Deviations, although unaccounted for, probably won't even be significant at this point, with the arrow falling almost vertically downwards. There would be no holes in this final attack.
Calculate the action and the reaction; make real the vision.
All the variables are accounted for. The battle lines are drawn. And I have, once and for all, decided.
This ends now.
I put out my right arm like one would hold a sword, straight up and pointed right at the threaded arrow Archer let loose, the one called "Caladbolg II", the object of my repetition. I put my left hand on my right elbow, in order to help focus the prana and support my hand as I held it up.
"This cannot continue." I said, gritting my teeth as the prana began to feed back, forming loops that began to extend out towards the arrow, preparing to repeat it. "This beautiful, senseless war cannot continue!"
Begin repetition.
The arrow, seemingly falling perfectly steadily, split into six on its way down. One of them was the original. The other five, each deviating slightly from the first, was a perfect repetition of the projection of the original, paths deviating ever so slightly from the original in order to turn the hull that the Servants were fighting on into a smoking crater.
Both the blue spearman and the golden king were far too engrossed with each other to notice the single arrow. However, with the huge prana increase in the area after I repeated the projection, they could not help but turn their heads towards the attack. I still had to admire them, because in the split-second they had between the impact of the arrows and the moment they saw the threaded heads, the Servants still kicked off at a ridiculous speed, attempting to escape.
I still admired and saluted their determination, even though I knew there was no way they would survive. In a beat, not even a moment, but only a beat, all six arrows blasted against the deck of the flying ship, creating an explosion that consumed the entire front of the elegant construct.
The light, heat, and noise were just what you would expect from an explosion that large. All at once, there was blinding white light, a deafening roar, and the pressure blast that knocked me off my feet, and into something hard and metallic that was standing behind me, where there wasn't before. I cover my eyes, letting the huge power of the explosion run its course.
Eventually, it died down, as all explosions do. I uncovered my eyes to see that there was nothing there anymore. There wasn't even a trace of the ship, or the Servants who had been so valiantly duelling on it. There was absolutely nothing to suggest that there had been anything there.
And at that moment, I realized exactly what I had done. I had become someone who rejects the world entirely, believing only in himself.
The experience of seeing Servants fighting is a beacon of hope, showing that humans can always be more than what they believe, for those heroes are all partly, or essentially, human. It shows us that we can be more than the sum of our parts, something that extends beyond logic or reasoning.
And I crushed that with my repetition, which is simply the application of logical, repeated processes to the realities of life. All things must end, for they cannot sustain themselves. However, logically, since anything will want to ensure its continued existence, it repeats behaviours that allow it to live. In that way are many things explained, such as eating, drinking, the repetitive habits of life, and so on. Because I want to stay alive, I shall repeat the things that allow me to stay alive. It's the reason people go to work, why they save money, why they cheat and steal to live. Such is life. I killed those Servants because they would kill me. They are a power that should not exist in this world. By nature, then, there was only one thing to do.
I raised my left hand towards Archer, who had allowed me to fall onto the street and was now looking around. His guard was down, and so I could read his mind like my own.
A hero; a person whose only true wish was to save everybody. Although thankful for the bounded field, he understood that the longer this War lasted, the more damage and the more people killed there would be. Hence his eagerness to attack, even without my command. Right now, being the last Servant left, he wished to track down and kill the remaining Masters and destroy the Grail. The most practical and logical course, save one.
"Archer, you will heed my three commands." I said. "One, you shall kill Kouhei Kaname." I pronounced, one o the seals on my left hand disappearing. "Second, you shall find and kill Yagi Kotohime." I pronounced once more, another of the spells bursting into light and energy. "And lastly, you will kill yourself, leaving no way for you to kill me afterwards."
Quick. Direct. To the point. I could almost feel his despair and his hatred as he said the words through gritted teeth, in order to avoid losing power.
"Yes, Master."
With those two words he set off into the night, while I prepared the ultimate gambit. Or, if you think about it, it was the most logical outcome.
All of the prerequisites already existed in the chronicles of Fuyuki. All I needed to do was to repeat it. However, to do so would probably require a lot more than the normal knowledge of the things to be repeated, and so I began to recall the story of the Fifth Fuyuki Grail War.
It all began on a fateful night. Shirou Emiya witnessed the clash between the spearman and the red knight, and that changed his life forever…
I let the events and recollections take over my mind as I stared blankly into the night, waiting to feel Archer's death.
My eyes received and registered the little light there was in the light. In fact, I was attempting to follow Archer's progress.
The only reason I say that I was staring blankly was because I was looking out there for a reason.
But as I stared into the night, I realized I was not seeing.