Sup people. No, this story isn't dead. God didn't take me up on my implied challenge, so I technically win. The best kind of win. Call it an early Christmas miracle.

Anyway, I think, on a technical aspect, this chapter beat some of the others by a mile. Let's see what you guys think. I'll also do a quick recap of the last few chapters so you don't feel lost. If you feel like you have an amazing memory (I don't), skip right ahead. I'll start from Gascoigne's death (wait, he dead?)

Shirou got some nice PTSD, brought Gascoigne's daughter to the Chapel and finally visited the dream. Gherman was ominous and Shirou was scaroused by everyone's waifu (just kidding, he was mostly freaked out, like any normal person would've been).

Then, he met Sakura in the chapel. I'm sure nothing horrible will come out from that front. No siir.

In the next, it was a clusterfuck involving everyone's favorite grandpa - Zouken, of course - Kirei and Gil. Kirei got to watch Zouken running with his worms between his legs and Gil treated like a child. It was a great night for the good priest. Probably not for Rin, who might or might not have been looking out her window.

Then, Gil explained to Shirou about the Grail War, how Yharnam and Fuyuki were connected, and low-key nudged Shirou into the Epic of Shirou route: "Give'em dirty gods the boot, onii-san! HFY!"

Then, Shirou got back to Yharnam, was freaked out by the doll and had a heart to heart with Gherman. Of course, the nice feels were offset by cosmic devil, which sent Shirou running like a headless chicken. And exploding blood. Not sure how that worked, but it did. Then, he met the Bloody Crow, who 'nothing personel'd' him. It was very edgy and cool.

Then, Shirou hung out with a hooker and the Bloody Crow made fun out of both of them. Guy's a fucking dick.

Oh, and Henryk is back. Apparently he can't leave the house for a week without nearly everyone dying. And he miiiight just think it's Shirou's fault.

Here we go!

-

Oedon Tomb lay in silence, one that wouldn't last.

The dust-ridden field had a secret buried within its soil. A secret Shirou had locked in the well of his mind, entrenched enough so it never would rise to the surface again.

But secrets had a way of unveiling themselves in Yharnam, whether you wanted them to or not.

Henryk's trembling breath expelled shaky clouds of chilly air in the wind. Frozen still and wide-eyed, he stared down at the resting place of his family. The cowl that usually covered the lower half of his face was pulled down, and his face was almost unfamiliar. His true age showed in his sagging skin and wrinkles. His teeth gnashed together with force enough to crush bones to dust.

A mad howl tore apart the silence.

Henryk buried his fist in the nearby tree. Barks of wood burst and flew in the air. He didn't stop.

He pounded on it. Tainted blood pooled in his gloves, but his frenzied attack wouldn't be deterred. The gaunt trunk crumbled under the onslaught. Henryk punished it for nothing more than being the closest living thing.

Shirou watched it, glassy-eyed.

The visage was familiar, down to the last details. A hunter forced into insanity, lashing out with the savagery of his sworn enemy.

"Beasts all over the shop...you'll be one of them, sooner or later."

His screams were of a kind Shirou had never heard in Yharnam.

He knew the screams of beasts. He had felt them up close; maddened howls rippling down into his ears, turning his legs weak. He knew the screams of the dying citizens; a sorrowful curse at an unfair world. Both carried an unnatural weight. One that emanated from Yharnam and the prowling predators that stalked its streets.

That weight made his thoughts hazy, stretching thin what made Shirou himself. In the chaos of the Hunt and the sickening old blood, memories of simpler times slipped away. In their place, he reveled in the blood and in the rushes of pure life that came with slaying beasts. All to take their strength for himself; all for his crusade. As if this world had sunk its claws into him.

It was a hollow weight, of things that were lacking. The blood had drowned reason, compassion, and their humanity. The Yharnamites were infected, and time marched against them.

But Henryk's screams weren't like that. As someone who had mourned the death of a person close to him, Shirou knew all too well grief when he saw it.

Guilt, too.

The blows that echoed in the ethereal land drew to a halt. Henryk pulled air in through his teeth, hissing like a beast in pain.

He turned to Shirou, hunched forward and panting.

Shirou took in everything. The rapid rise and fall of his chest. The coiling muscles of his arms about to spring. The way Henryk focused on nothing but him, with his hands drifting close to his weapons.

And Henryk's mushy pupils, afflicted by the onset of the scourge. Both dilated, as if a tumor had encroached into the dark pits, contaminating all it touched.

A steely wind blew away the fog in his mind. His thoughts coalesced into a shape, a brittle but hard one. Clarity he had only felt once cleansed his doubts and fears.

It had been right here, among the tombstones, grave dirt and under the approving gaze of the Moon.

Emiya Shirou turned his mind into steel.

Henryk bared his teeth at him. "What did you do?"

"I killed Gascoigne."

That had been it. The secret Shirou had locked within his mind, laid bare for the man he had made a promise. His failure to protect Henryk's family, which had welcomed him when no one else in Yharnam would.

Before, the simple threat of its emergence was enough to break him. To decimate the self he had built after the fire.

His admiration for Kiritsugu and the wish to never see someone cry in front of him again. Those had been the building blocks. All he had ever wanted was to be a hero of justice and fulfill his promise to his father.

Kiritsugu had never told him what it meant to be a hero of justice, but Yharnam was a strict teacher. It swiftly set boundaries he had yet to overcome.

Gascoigne had been the first of many that would come.

Mercy should be shared with all that needed it. Until he found a cure, it was all he could do.

Henryk sucked in a sharp breath. His fists shook, and the handle of his weapon creaked as he took hold of it.

"What about my daughter?"

"Gascoigne killed her. She left without telling me, and I didn't get here fast enough. I buried her with him." A fleeting impression floated in his mind. "I thought she wouldn't mind."

That had been his thought process. The feeling that had guided his actions felt alien, as if born from a different person.

"Gascoigne wouldn't have killed her. He loved my daughter."

A figure caught his fleeting gaze, lying deathly, locks of blonde hair tight in a bun. A beautiful red brooch ornamented her dress.

Gascoigne had left great destruction in his wake. Trees ripped off their roots. Chunks of the sturdiest stone in Yharnam obliterated. A population's worth of beasts' corpses made victims by his ax. Viola had the only wound that didn't seem like the work of a mad butcher. A clean one, like when he had lashed out at the air as the Music Box chimed its sorrowful notes.

But Viola hadn't been a hunter. A single cut had been more than enough, and wishful thinking couldn't change reality.

"He got worse. He was out hunting by the time I got back, and Viola forgot the Music Box. I found him, but he disappeared after we killed a Cleric Beast. I was unconscious, so I didn't follow him. The blood of that beast was the final push. He became mad."

"Bullshit!"

Shirou went deathly still. "Calm down Henryk."

Henryk laughed. It was a haunting sound that would make the corpses lying in the graves below shudder. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Drop our weapons and have a nice chat like old times?" He threw his cleaver and gun to his sides. "Fine by me. Let's chat."

Shirou followed Henryk with his gaze as he circled around him.

"So, how did you do it? Gascoigne wouldn't bite it without a fight, and I know for a fact you couldn't tell your ass from your elbow when you got here. How does a kid with a couple of months' worth of experience kill one of the best hunters in this hellhole of a city?"

"I have other skills. They made up for the difference."

"Right, right. Your runes and..." He chuckled. "your magic. Unless you can also magically become ten times the hunter you are, I'm still not buying it."

"I don't know how I could convince you."

Henryk smirked. "I can think of a way, but I have a better idea. Why don't you tell me who helped you?"

Shirou frowned. "No one helped me. I did it alone."

"Come on, lad. It'll really help smooth things over between us. You're just a kid; you couldn't have killed him by yourself. Maybe someone tricked you. The nicest kid in the whole, wide Yharnam... you wouldn't get it in your head to kill the guy who received you in his family like a son without a good reason. Unless you got a taste for the sweet old blood...?"

"I didn't." That was a lie, but the truth would only escalate this situation to something he didn't want. "And I told you. I killed Gascoigne myself; no one helped."

Henryk sighed. The tired action contrasted with the feral glint in his eyes as he stomped forward. "Guess we're going with the first option. Show me how you did it, then." His hand reached inside his garb, and his voice dropped an octave. "I might just teach you something new for old time's sake. Try to last a while, yeah?"

"That's enough!" A yell reverberated in the tomb from up above.

Shirou's eyes flew from Henryk to the blur that descended from the skies. Dark wings dove in their direction as if to attack them. But, a familiar figure landed in front of Henryk. Her black cape, reminiscent of wings, flapped from its flight. The beaked mask was pointed to Henryk, who stared back rigidly.

Henryk's tense shoulders loosened. "I've seen that before. Death coming from the sky...I wouldn't have known it until my head was rolling on the ground." He snorted. "If you're not here to kill me, then fuck off, Eileen. This is none of your business."

"You should know by now it's always my business when a hunter starts acting deranged, Henryk." Her wizened voice had a hint of steel to it.

Shirou's fists tightened. Henryk had been about to attack him. Without the Crow's interference, this would've come to blows already.

"Heh, deranged? I'm pretty sure I have the moral high ground for once. Some debts can only be paid in blood, Crow. You should know by now."

"Hunters hunt beasts. You're off the mark with your frustration," she said. "He's a boy. A boy you took under your wing and taught him our ways. Look into your conscience; would he be capable of killing Gascoigne without a good reason?"

Henryk chortled. "Oh, I'm sorry, I should be thanking him instead. Maybe wrap up my granddaughter and hand her over for his protection. I'm sure everything will work out fine." He gazed at the overturned soil of their graves, and his jaw tensed. "Yeah, what a great fucking idea."

"Gascoigne went mad, Henryk." She looked at Shirou. "I warned you, both of you."

Henryk's hand clasped his forehead. "Ain't that convenient? You want him dead, and now look at where we are. And right when I was out of town," he mused. "A man gotta wonder. Did you pay Gascoigne one of your visits by any chance, Crow?"

"As a matter of fact, I wanted to. Emiya Shirou was very insistent that he wouldn't allow me. He was trying to protect Gascoigne, of course, but the entire situation was bound to end exactly how it did. It was only a matter of whose hands his life would be taken." The beak shook back and fro. "And I truly wish it had been mine."

Shirou glared at her. "No, it had to be me. I owed him it."

Henryk sputtered. "You owed him that? What kind of fucked up logic is that? You're talking like you did him a fucking favor."

"He thanked me," said Shirou.

Henryk's eyes widened.

The silence that hung over the tomb and its residents returned as if it had never left. From the beginning, this wasn't a place for the living, not even family and friends that mourned those who were gone. A peculiar madness clung to Oedon's tomb, driving them all away.

After all, before being a graveyard, it was a shrine dedicated to something they couldn't comprehend. Shirou realized it now. The black monolith erected at the very center of the tomb was the proof he needed.

The Moon wasn't the only thing lurking, watching.

Static consumed his vision for a second. The steel in sizzled, melted by unnatural flames. Invisible tendrils penetrated through the ruined barrier, twisting and churning his mind.

O̵̡̪̺̘̞͍͚͈̦̖̤̬͓̥̤͗͛̈̌͂̀͂̚p̷͖̮̗͇̀e̸̳͊̅͂̽̿̋̀͋̈́̌̈́̓̒̓͠n̵̨̢͍͉̱͔̬̪̺͔͉̮̥̾̉̊̌͂̀̂̚ ̸͈̬̻͚̙̞͔̅̊̽̋̃͗̽̍͐̑͋̈́̈͝͠y̴̬̮̯͚̘̭͓̥̤̔̊̒͆͊̑̏̑͌̚̚͘̕͝͠ó̴̥ů̶̲̱̻̲̯̪̱͖̲̙͔͂̒̃̑́͜ͅṙ̶̨̛̺͖͔̫̥̜̳̰̹̖̝͖͎̇́̈́͛̋̊̏̇̓͂͘̚ͅ ̸̡̛̛͖̰̳͔̖̣̭͓̎̀͌̀̓͌̉̇͊͘͘͝e̸̗͔̻̊̓̌̍̾̀̊̈́̾͆̂̒̑͑̕y̵̤͊̈́͌̓ȩ̴͖̹̯͚̯͖͖̺̘̰͉̖͍͕̈́̏̃͐̇͗͠s̴̡̢̛͖̰͖͙̭̞͔̣̩̙̮̰̟̍̊̆͒

Did they hear it too? To the right, to the left, above and below.

Everywhere.

"I don't believe you," Henryk cut through the silence. "He wouldn't do it. Not Gascoigne."

Shirou gripped tight his temples as clarity came back.

'What was that?'

Eileen huffed. The beak of her mask now pointed at Shirou. "None ever do. It is as I told you, Emiya Shirou. Loved ones always have a technique, some kind of trick to bring those like Gascoigne back from madness. It always works...until it doesn't. That's why they're usually the first to die."

Henryk gritted his teeth. "If you're trying to stop me from killing the both of you, you're doing a shitty job at it, Eileen."

"I don't need to stop you from anything. I only need to ask this." Her tone was barbed. "Where were you?"

Henryk froze. "...what?" His fists uncoiled, as if disarmed.

"Where were you?" she prodded. "Why were Gascoigne and your daughter, who has no training of her own, alone by themselves? Why was a boy with no real experience watching over your family? Why weren't you with them?"

"I was doing something important," he said.

"As was I, and that boy. But what was so important that made you abandon them when they needed you the most?"

Henryk looked down, breath shaky. "I wanted to help them," he growled.

"Then why did I find you, broken and bleeding, no blood vials left, walking to your death? Surely you weren't looking for help in Yahar'gul's prisons."

'What?' thought Shirou.

"I got kidnapped," he bit out. "If I hadn't-"

"Then you would have failed at finding that place," said the Crow. "The Church sealed every entrance for a reason, Henryk. There's a very real chance of making everything worse if we muck things up there. If our problems had an easy solution, we would've found it."

'Are they talking about Byrgenwerth?'

It was where Henryk had intended to find and where Shirou would've followed him. The only place in the world there might be answers.

'But he got kidnapped,' thought Shirou. Had it been one of the giant men that almost found him and Arianna?

"I know that," shouted Henryk. His voice broke. "I know that, dammit. But I had to try..."

She crossed her arms. "The boy did what was right, Henryk. He saved him. Gascoigne was a good man; imagine what the truth of his actions would've done to him."

Flesh had burst as if Gascoigne had merely been a convenient skin, a garb to be shredded as it revealed its true form.

Shirou didn't have to imagine it. He had seen it. The moment Gascoigne had crumbled under the weight of his sins.

Shirou locked gazes with Henryk. "It was mercy, Henryk. It was all anyone could do, and I'm glad it was me instead of you. I would've traded places with him if I could, but he wasn't well even before you left. I'm sorry I couldn't protect your family." His features grew tight. "I made you a promise."

Henryk said nothing.

Shirou breathed. "And I'm sorry it was Viola and not me. I can't take that back, but I won't regret what I did to Gascoigne. I needed to do it. He was relieved. He thanked me."

Even if there was no true salvation on sight, surely there was meaning to ending that madness. Saving everyone from beasts, saving beasts from themselves.

"Th-thank y-y-yoouu Shiii...rou..."

It had been the right choice. He knew it.

Henryk closed his eyes. "Calling murder mercy...what, are you the mini-crow now? Want her place for yourself?" His tone grew hollow as he looked at Shirou. "Both me and Gascoigne knew something wasn't right about you. The way you were dressed when we found you, how you disappeared for hours on end every night and that magic of yours. Even so, I trusted you. You were nice to everyone. The Yharnamites, the hunters, hell, even the beggars. You'd talk to them, defend them from beasts even when they mocked you for it and help around with the nastiest work around the city. I thought you'd stop your disappearing acts and stay to help." He snorted. "Guess I should've known better. That's on me."

Shirou looked down. "It wasn't something I could control at the time. I almost got him..."

Eileen interrupted. "Go be with your granddaughter, Henryk. She needs to see you. You're all she has left," she said.

Henryk stared at her, all emotion drained from his face. That empty, hollow gaze – Shirou had seen it before in a face much younger.

'He looks like Sakura.'

The old hunter twisted on his heel and left, looking back one last time before going upstairs. His steps echoed heavily in the air, and Shirou felt himself lighter when he got out of sight.

"That was dangerous," said Shirou. "He could've exploded."

"Maybe," she said, "but I happen to have a good eye for the scourge. He's not there, not quite yet."

Shirou sighed. "I guess you were right again. Sorry for the trouble."

"It's not pleasant work, but it has to be done." The beak shifted languidly as she sized him up. "I see you've grown strong. Good, good. How is the little Doll doing? She must have had a hand on it."

"If you become a beast, you'll be my prey, no matter how many times I have to hunt you."

Those had been her last words to him when they met on that bridge. And her comment about a Doll could only mean one thing.

"You know about the dream?"

She laughed through her nose. "I and many more hunters. I just happen to remember it better than most."

Shirou's lips pressed together. "I don't think I could ever forget the dream."

"You will. Such is the nature of dreams. It's better this way, easier on our conscience," she trailed off. "And you haven't answered my question."

"She is well." He stopped and rubbed his jaw. "I think? She's not exactly easy to read."

"True enough, I suppose." Steel suffused her voice once again. "Be nice to her, you hear me? She's the only one in these forsaken worlds that would never lift a finger against you, not even to defend herself," she finished somberly.

Shirou swallowed. "I'll try."

"See that you do. I'll take my leave now. This night...there's something about it different than the others. We've reached a critical point. There's much work to be done." She assessed him. "For both of us."

A thought sparked in his mind. "Wait. Can I ask you something?"

She nodded. "Go ahead."

"Do you think-" He paused.

The answer to his question didn't matter – his path was already set. Even so, the Crow was bound to know something he didn't, have some insight on the matter.

"Do you think Yharnam can be saved?" he asked.

Her arms crossed, she tapped her bracers. "You aren't the first to ask yourself that question. I told you when we first met that you would experience the horrors of the hunt deeper than anyone else. If there's a cure, a solution, it surely lies at the end of your journey."

"You're talking about the dream," he said.

"Yes. Through its resources and your hunts, you'll grow stronger and pry into Yharnam's secrets as you go. But, as I said, you aren't the first one to look for a solution. There are many graves in the dream, one with my name engraved on it, I bet." She uncrossed her arms. "The corpses there were as invincible as you. Death cannot take us until we either fulfill our purpose or grow too weak for it. So far, we all failed."

The endless fields of graves somehow seemed even larger now. "I won't," he said.

He wouldn't allow himself to.

She hummed. "We'll see about that. Anything else?"

"Actually, yeah. There's a guy with the same cape you're wearing killing Executors in Cathedral Ward. He said he was a hunter of hunters. Do you-" Shirou stopped.

The Crow was shaking with barely restrained fury.

"He said that, hm? Thank you for that, Emiya Shirou. I was looking for that thing for a long time. It proves that there's something about this night, if nothing else. All the pieces falling into place..."

She turned to him. "Stay away from him and don't, under any circumstance, reveal that you dream."

"Why?"

"You are undying. So long as your heart remains strong, the entire world is your prey. You'll always come back, stronger and stronger. He could never accept it – being someone's prey." She chuckled darkly. "Rejoice. Had he recognized what you are, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Shirou jutted his chin up. "He can't kill me. I can fight him if I have to."

"And what makes you think he would kill you? He can do much, much worse. Avoid him if you know what's good for you." She turned sharply and stomped away, not sparing him a single glance.

Shirou stood alone – or so it seemed – in the tomb, once again drowned by an unnatural silence.

He followed the path made by the old hunters, a different person than when he came in.

His mind was now steel. He didn't have time for half-measures anymore. Before getting started, though, he had to go to Fuyuki.

One last time.

-

We're approaching the end of this arc. Next chapter will be set in Fuyuki, as I'm sure some of you guys prefer it. It'll actually set the stage for Arc 3, in which the main antagonist will be Shinji. True story.

And it'll be Shirou's fault. Also true story. My boy can't get a break.