AN- there's been a lot of interesting reviews and discussions about the last chapter – glad so many people found it interesting. Its nice that so many things came together nicely for that chapter.

Anyhow. This is the final part of the first 'season' of Fate Finality. The theme song for this chapter is undeniably the Abridged English cover of "This Illusion" - Enjoy!

End of Beginning of End

It was a tired and disheartened party that shuffled into our home base – our thankfully untouched home base. Really would have been just our luck if we'd found the Red Team waiting for us with baseball bats and a surplus of knees to break.

So in we shuffled and all but collapsed onto whatever chair or surface we could find.

"That... was just terrible." Medea muttered into the bed she'd face-planted onto.

"So close, and yet so far away."

"And to Matou fucking Zouken of all people..."

"Now, lets not get too disheartened." Funnily enough, it was Mata Hari who was trying to be the optimistic one. "Things are bad, but not too bad."

"Yeah, yeah." I waved her words away from my spot next to Medea (pillow stolen, in prime position to curse at). "We know that. Could be worse... somehow." I mean, what if Shinji had won? "But considering the circumstances, I for one just want to wallow in my defeat a little bit longer."

"That's 'stewing in your own defeat', and I can't cook stew." Margaretha waggled her finger at me. "But I can get behind drinking our problems away."

"... what did you do?" Even Scathach seemed tired, but even so, she assumed the role of the responsible 'adult'. Thanks teacher.

Margaretha offered us her 'ask for forgiveness, not permission' smile, then got off her chair. Casually, she walked to a seemingly random part of the warehouse... and punched a hole in the wall. From its surface, she plucked a dust riddled bottle of wine, like a knight pulling a sword from a stone. I would be willing to follow that Queen... at least until the booze runs dry. "Tada! Never know when you need booze to loosen a few tongues! So I might have hidden a shit tonne of very potent alcohol all across the warehouse. Tee hee?"

"We are Servants." Scathach pointed out. "We aren't so easily intoxicated."

"Yeah, but that's why I bought a shit tonne of very potent booze too. I kind of guessed we might have ended up like this at some point during the War. Can't win 'em all, right?"

The immortal god killer gave her a look... then reached out, plucked the bottle from her hands, then bit the top off, glass and all, spitting it away. That, was impressive. "You are forgiven of all sins and misgivings I have ever had about you. Very well then. This night might not have gone as we all wished, so let us drink to our defeat. Take this as a lesson, student. Learnt to lose well, and you can always win again tomorrow."

I acknowledged her words. Today had sucked – but maybe we could at least end the day with less suck. "I know. Go on then, crack open the good stuff. I hope everyone has their best randy joke prepared..."

With that decree, the smallest of weights was lifted from our team. Things were no better, but as agreed, they could be worse. We'd gotten out alive, which was more than could be said for most of the Blue Team. So let us drink to surviving! And return to the battle tomorrow, severely hung over, but ready and raring to go.

"I propose a toast. Fuck Zouken!"

"FUCK ZOUKEN!" Fuck that asshole, so very much.

XXXXXXXXXX

Funnily enough, the winner of the 'randy joke competition' was Medea. Dear lord, that joke left Margaretha red faced and giggling! Still, the ice was broken and morale had been raised. We weren't being careless mind you – Medea was going light on the wine, so she could continue to monitor the Bounded Field and ensure we had no nasty surprises.

Still, it was enjoyable. The sting of defeat wasn't too bad when you weren't suffering alone.

"Hey." Ereshkigal called out, stepping out from the warehouse.

"Designated watch dog?" I asked wryly – after all, I could hardly step outside without fear of being assassinated at this point.

The goddess nodded her head, and approached me with a pair of glasses. I accepted the offer as it was intended and took a sip. "I didn't take you for a beer woman."

"Wine tended to be used as an offering to us, but to most of the people, beer was far more common." Here, the blonde deity blushed. "I admit to always having been more partial to the latter."

"Quite a 'common' interest huh?"

"Don't tease me." she replied. I shrugged in a 'who, me?' manner. Instead, I sipped again at my glass. I wasn't a beer person, preferring ciders, but eh, beggars can't be choosers, and I was more a social drinker anyway.

"And what was Rin's drink of choice?"

She smiled teasingly; it was nice to see her playing along. Not so aloof, after all. "She'd tell you she was far too pure to succumb to alcohol, and that she definitely never drank any of the Tohsaka ancestral wine cellar."

"Surprised any of it was left after Gilgamesh was let loose upon it in the 4th War."

"Huh. That explains a lot of the empty shelves." The Goddess acknowledged with a little 'huh' of realisation. I didn't point out how this concern was very much a question of her 'Rin' side. "I'm surprised you're in such a good mood though. I expected I would have to work a lot harder at 'raising morale' as that spy calls it."

"I've been worse." I told her seriously. "This was before you were summoned but I kinda had a mini freak out due to this whole Grail War mess and my role in it. I felt really messed up for awhile and it just kept building up. I felt way too responsible for everything that happened around me and thought that I was seriously cocking everything up. And yeah, I have knowledge, but that only goes so far. It took a good few motivational speeches from my Team to set my head straight. I guess... I've learned to accept that I'm not omnipotent since then."

"Wow, a mortal lecturing a goddess on learning that he isn't omnipotent. Wow." Great, now the cute Babylonian Goddess was being sarcastic too.

I shrugged. "So, what else is there to be said? Does today suck? Yeah. Seeing Matou Zouken snatch the win he's been scheming over 200 years for was like chewing a raw lemon! But it isn't really on us. I made the choices I did that I thought were best at the time. That's all you can do at the end of the day. Frankly, we played every card we had, and we played them well. Anything more than that is out of our hands."

"Yes, we did do some impressive things, d-didn't we?" What's this, being bashful? What for? Oh wait, Ereshkigal, your Rin is showing again.

"You kicked ass." I sincerely complimented her. "Without you, we couldn't have split up so evenly due to Heracles' Noble Phantasm, and we would have likely lost the fight with Saber. And you goddamn beat Heracles." With Scathach pulling her weight and basically single handedly stalling him and landing the final blow, but eh, Tsundere's can't be so picky.

"I-idiot! You can't just compliment a Goddess like that without warning!" But you were basically asking me to! "Still, it is nice to be acknowledged now and again."

I nodded my head. "No jokes. I'm happy with this Team. Wouldn't trade a single one of you. We didn't win... but we sure made them bleed for victory. Zouken came in like a kill stealing asshole, but it was us who did all the hard work. This war we discovered all the Red Team identities in record time, we outed them from their base, we gutted the Blue Team and Red Team alike and took down the dream team of Heracles and freakin' genderbent King Arthur. We did good."

"Just not good enough. Even with a Goddess on hand, victory was out of hand." I reached over... and flicked her nose. "O-oi!"

"Now you're getting too glum." I pointed out. "We're up against heroes of old. Beating the odds is what they do. It's to be expected that they'd all complicate matters when there's this much concentrated bullshit in one little town. They wouldn't be here if they wouldn't, if you get where I'm coming from. We lost because I wasn't ruthless enough to sacrifice any of my Servants. If victory cost that, then I'm satisfied with losing. So sure, we've got some big shit coming up in the next round... but I'm confident."

I'd seen these Servants pull off some serious shit. I could trust each and every one of them with my back, and I hoped they trusted me too. Frankly, we were the only Team that actually acted like a team. Le gasp! That was both our strength, and our weakness. "Together... I think we can win this."

"Don't get too overconfident, mind you." Her tone wary, "So far, we've been the aggressors. Its always been us initiating – putting everyone else on the back foot. We've hit every hornets nest and kicked over every ant hill..."

"... and here come the bugs." I agreed. "Blue Team is a wreck. The only one standing is Medea and her faction, most of that strength is from stolen Servants." Though, there was the wildcard of EMIYA. Like fuck was that stubborn bastard dead. "Meanwhile, the Red team has taken a few hits. Frankly, we're the strongest Team left. Everyone can't complete the Grail without getting some kills from the Grey Team." At least, that's what conventional wisdom says. In truth there is Gilgamesh, but eh.

"They WILL be coming for us." Agreed Ereshkigal. "I know that's what my host would do in this situation. This second 'round' will be very different to the first. A lot of our advantages are gone now, and we have a lot more weaknesses, especially with our lose conditions."

I was no longer the unknown.

Many of my Servants had been revealed – Assassin was basically useless in her covert role now, with the secret out to both teams.

The value of my meta-knowledge was quickly running out, with most of the core original cast now out of the picture.

And I still didn't have solutions to some of the biggest problems coming up.

Medea, and her hostage.

Zolgen, who I doubted I'd seen the last of.

And Gilgamesh, his deadline swiftly approaching.

"Come on." I said, turning away from the cold and heading back to the warmth of the 'party' going on within. "They're coming for us, but we'll be ready. I have a warm, fuzzy feeling in my gut and it isn't the booze. With you lot on my side, how could I possibly lose?"

"Hmph." My drinking partner almost sounded satisfied by my answer. "I'm glad to see that you aren't as depressed as I expected. Very well then. Let us drink – I will show you how we goddesses partied back in the times of Babylon!"

Weren't you a shut in Goddess stuck in the underworld though?

"I know when you're thinking foolish thoughts about me, James!"

"Guilty as charged." I grinned, closing the door behind us. Ahead, my Servants noticed my entrance and beckoned me over to them. Warm wine, shared between Boudica and Lily. A half finished game of cards, with Medea sipping her drink like the princess she is, while Scathach drinks straight from the whiskey (shot glasses deemed too small and abandoned). Margaretha, winking at my overtly and pointing to an empty chair.

Yeah. This was our loss. But to butcher a saying, we had only lost the battle, not the war. The Grey Team was now undeniably the strongest faction; I pitied the poor bastards who wished to face us.

We were going to kick their asses. Tonight, we drink. Tomorrow, we go to war. Again.

XXXXXXXXXX

The first round of the Fifth Heavens Feel Ritual was over: its winner was Matou Zouken of the Blue Team.

But the Grey Team weren't the only ones considering the past and planning for the future.

"This was the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do." Forte didn't even try to mince her words with Luvia, who could only stand there and take it with the stoic face of one knowing they had fucked up but wouldn't say so. "I can't even describe how terrible an idea it was."

"We couldn't just do nothing." Hissed Luvia. "We're meant to be the Team representing the Clock Tower, a party comprised completely of high class Magus', and what have we done? Hidden away, watching others fight. Where is the glory in a win like that? And I only acted because there would have been no stopping Archer from going anyway."

"You still should have told us beforehand." Their 'leader' scolded her. Luvia was just glad that this was a private conversation and that her humiliation wasn't being showcased (though she wouldn't put it past the El Meloi girl to eavesdrop).

"Well its too late for that now." Luvia snapped.

"The first round is over." The Enforced agreed, rubbing at her now steady headache. "You'll be pleased to know that we will be far more active this time. No other choice, is there? We're outnumbered by the Grey Team now, and they still haven't taken a single fucking casualty. Upon my pride as an Enforcer of the Clock Tower, I'm not letting the Grey Team so easily mock me."

It was professional courtesy at this point. Even if they lost, she hoped to at least murder as much of the competition as she could. Let it never be said that Forte half-arsed things.

"Or at least, you would be please, if you still had a Servant." Forte rubbed this fact mercilessly in the face of the woman who couldn't defend her loss.

"I understand. Stop bringing it up." Luvia frowned.

"What role can you fulfil now with no Servant? And don't say backup Master – we already have two of those."

"I'm still the strongest combat Magus here." And the Edelfelt heir cracked her knuckles, as if saying 'why not double check?'. "I owe it to the Red Team to stay, and make up for my mistake. At worst, I suppose I can be 'meat shield' as the peasants say, no?"

Forte laughed. "That is true. I guess you can stay. But no more fuck ups, and I expect you to have my back."

"Naturally. I don't forget favours."

"Then, here." From her pocket, Forte retrieved a strip of parchment and handed it to Luvia.. "Just came in."

"Ah." Her eyes widened in surprise as she finished scanning its contents.

"Yes. Ah. Much sooner than I expected. Can I count on you to help plan this?" As much as it galled Forte to admit, amongst the Enforcers she was more a foot soldier than a general. She had little experience in planning large operations.

"You can count on me." Luvia agreed, eyes burning with desire to prove and redeem herself.

Suffice to say, despite the first rounding having only just been finished, the plot was already thickening...

XXXXXXXXXX

Even to Kiyohime, it was clear that something had changed. She'd felt the power thrum underfoot, from deep in the ground where the Greater Grail was held. Even as she anxiously guarded the gate (no changes, no enemies, nothing but her serpentine thoughts), she waited for the shoe to drop. She waited for her Master, for Anchin.

"Come." Commanded Anchin, and she did as ordered, gratefully slipping from her post and into her lovers stiff arms (who firmly but gently pried her off, not so much as a little bit flushed).

There, waiting by one of the crushed buildings, was Saber of Red. He waved her over – Kiyohime ignored the Roman. All eyes were on Anchin.

"The first round of the war is over." She announced, and it hit her like a waterfall. The first round was over... a wish had been made?

"Who won?" Kiyohime tried to keep her voice light, with not so much as a hint of true interest (no thoughts but for her beloved, no-siree!).

"That bastard, Matou Zouken." She ground her teeth hard enough that even Saber winced at her. It didn't surprise Kiyohime that the wretched old man was involved – he'd been here only the other day, and something had clearly happened between the two Masters. As expected though, the maiden's thoughts drifted to far more important matters. "He swooped in and stole the Grail for himself."

She was running out of time. Anchin still didn't love her even with the first round over and all of her own miscellaneous efforts to capture her attention. Meanwhile, her heart went out to the Grey Team, who had presumably lost for the Blue Master to have won. She hoped James hadn't lost too many Servants.

"As expected. Never trust the scorpion to go against its nature – the frog is doomed." Boomed Caesar. "Bet you wish you'd actually stopped hiding behind us and gone out yourself, huh?"

"Shut up you!" The final remaining 'true' Master of the Blue Team snapped. "Like you can talk! Why didn't you act! You saw them move! And surely a 'great' tactician like you should have known where they were going!?"

"I was ordered to report everything I saw. No more, no less." Saber said with a smile. "Do not forget that I am not here of my own will, but merely due to necessity. And if you treat the help poorly, don't be surprised if poison winds up in your drink."

SMACK. A hand more like a whip smacked into his face and sent him flying. Berserker realised it had been her that moved – she didn't recall when she shifted. "Don't badmouth my beloved, Saber."

"Heh. You two twisted souls are perfect for each other." Caesar laughed as he got to his feet, blood running from his mouth. "Oh, was I too soon? As soon as you moving on from your other beloved, no, Caster?"

"You really do crave death, don't you?" Medea growled – but she didn't act. Surely, she could torture him even without a Command Seal, but what was the point? Unfortunately, she needed every ally she could. The Grey Team was now too strong. She expected them to be chipped down further by now, but they were ridiculously tenacious. Clearly the only one that could be such a massive pain in her neck was herself.

"We'll stay put." The Master firmly announced. "I can't lure them here with my Magecraft – my other self will see through it. And we don't have the skillset to face them head on."

"Therefore, once more we wait for our chance." Saber of Red shook his head. "A strategist, you are not. Be glad that as a princess you never had to lead an army. I pity the souls you would have lost."

"Well if you're smart, why don't you suggest a plan then?"

The Emperor merely shushed her with a cocky grin and a finger to his lips. His message was clear – he was happy to sit back and watch the fireworks. He wanted victory, yes, but in many ways he wanted her to lose more.

Once upon a time Caesar was captured by pirates, to be ransomed. With his silver tongue he naturally survived that situation, and made sure each and every one of the cut-throat sailors died. Nobody gets away with controlling him – nobody gets way with trampling on the pride of an Emperor of Rome.

"We wait, then. Saber, I'm pulling you back. Help support the Berserker at the gate. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." Saber sarcastically replied.

Berserker frowned. She didn't like this development. Not at all. After all, with him here, if an enemy showed up they might actually have to kill the enemy, as opposed to letting them flee. Frankly, Kiyohime hated playing defensively in the first place. She'd always been an aggressive pursuer of what she wanted.

But Anchin had spoken, and her word was law. If she told Berserker to stop breathing, she'd pluck out her own lungs with a smile and gift wrap them. And her command was to play defensively, let nobody in. Very well then. She was the Dragon that guarded the castle. She would need to be slain before any entrance was granted to the treasure she so desperately hoarded.

And she knew that someday soon James and the Grey Team would come for her Anchin. She wasn't looking forwards to that day – not one bit.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Einzbern castle was cold and dark, and Shirou had not yet moved from his place in the basement Workshop. Even once Sella has been able to stick her neck in to check on him before needing to go off to try and repair her own body, he hadn't been able to work up the will to get up.

Never before had he felt so disheartened. Even after 10 years of failing to properly use Magecraft, he had had never once felt as useless as he did now.

He had completely and utterly failed. For all his big talk of saving his elder sister and lofty ideals of their sibling teamwork being enough to earn their miracle, they had lost all the same. It was inevitable for a war with so many competitors – her transition could not be prevented – only the circumstances surrounding it.

And according to the note the Master of the Grey Team left, Illya was gone, taken by Ruler. Alive, but undeniably empty of all life. As Illya herself had predicted.

Shirou had no Servant now to fight.

It was uncharacteristic of him to feel so melancholic – he fully expected himself to be recklessly charging off to try and fight in the war irregardless of his weakness, but he wasn't. "Heh. Perhaps I listened to Illya's warnings to take better care of myself more closely than I expected."

He missed her. And he knew just how bad his chances of saving her had become now that Berserker and Saber alike were out of the picture.

"Hmmph. How absolutely pathetic, Shirou Emiya." A scornful voice and heavy footsteps. Shirou looked up, and there in the candlelight by the door was the figure that instinctively brought a scowl to his face.

"Tch. Archer. Why are you here?"

"I missed the party. Had to see what I missed." He sarcastically noted as he approached. "Why the hell do you think I'm here, dumbass?"

"I don't know." He almost bit his tongue choking back all the insults he wanted to tell him. It seemed so unimportant now considering the circumstances. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Illya's gone."

"I know that, Archer!" Shirou shouted, rising to his feet. "I don't need you to tell me that I fucked up and failed, do I?"

"... it seems not." Archer raised his hands in what could be generously seen as a gesture of peace. "Funnily enough, I'm not here to kill you. I mean, just seeing your pathetic moping makes me want to, but I'm not. Never thought I'd say that."

Shirou rolled his eyes. "I'm not in the mood for any of this. Say your piece. Then leave."

"Tch. Some things don't change, do they? I'm here because of obvious reasons. So far I've been surviving off my Independent Action skill and by using the Command Seals I tore off Kotomine's severed arm to fuel me. But that can't last forever. After all, I am a Servant with no Master and you are a Master with no Servant."

The Emiya boy winced at his words – he wasn't wrong. Shirou realistically needed a Servant to fight with him if he wanted a chance to win, and Archer was clearly offering. But the Servant in question just rubbed him the wrong way... merely standing before him made him want to throttle the stupid Heroic Spirit. "You hate me as much as I loathe you. You'd probably rather join the Red Team than team up with me. So why offer?"

Here, Archer EMIYA looked away from his younger self. "Because I've been watching you in this war very closely. I'd sooner see you die than walk my path... I'd prefer it, in fact. But I think that for a change maybe you've gained just enough brain cells to actually listen to fucking reason for a change. So maybe I can stomach working with you."

"And the catch?" Because there had to be a catch.

"You make a promise to me." EMIYA became deathly serious. "You have two paths ahead of you. One where you become the foolish Ally of Justice you've always wanted to be... and one where you have your sister. Pick. Vow to turn away from your naïve dreams and I'll help you revive your sister."

His dreams... or his sister. The beautiful Ideal he inherited from his father, or the legacy Kiritsugu left behind?

Shirou wanted them both. He wanted to leave and save the world and everybody he could see in front of him... and return to find his older sister waiting for him, resigned look on her face.

Pick one? Give one up?

When it came down to the two, there was one that he could absolutely not live without. With that understanding, the choice became remarkably easy.

"Fine. You have an agreement. I'll turn away from my dreams." He was willing to fight this War for his sisters sake, and it seemed he was willing to sacrifice a hell of a lot more than that too for her. He wondered if his father would be proud of him for his choice, or disappointed?

It didn't really matter now. He was dead. But Shirou was not. And Illya was not. And he'd see that she survived this war, whole and healthy, if it was the last thing he ever did.

"Heh. Good. I'm glad to see that your resolve is at least that strong. If it wasn't, I doubt you'd be able to keep up with me at all."

"Bastard." Snarled Shirou stepping forwards until there was barely a meter between them. "You'll need to keep up with me."

"Cocky brat." Snarled EMIYA. He just knew he was going to regret this choice. But... while EMIYA fully denied Shirou Emiya, he could never deny Illyasviel Von Einzbern. So if helping him was the cost for seeing a version of the Homunculus happy and alive? Well, so be it. "Do you know the words to bind me, or am I going to need to tell you them too?"

Shirou glared at him. "Fuck you. Now tell me."

"Repeat after me: Fill, fill, fill..."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Well, that was certainly interesting, wasn't it?"

"If you say so." Waver said passively, eyes unwilling to leave that of his drinking partners. To lower his guard would be to invite death considering whom he was dealing with.

"Lighten up, boy." Gilgamesh laughed. "I didn't call you out here for such passive, boring conversation. As the follower of that man, I hoped for at least a decent effort. With Kirei dead, you might as well be the most passable drinking associate left in this foolish ritual."

"Well you aren't wrong. But I really can't be blamed for my wariness." Still, Waver allowed himself to sample the wine. It was glorious – and no doubt worth more than his entire net worth. He wondered if it was of similar quality the King once shared during that Banquet of Kings, but didn't ask. Considering this could be his last drink on this planet if he was a poor conversation partner, then he felt it was only fitting that he enjoyed the beverage, however. "I did as you said. I watched the events of the castle, and I didn't inform my team."

"And your thoughts?"

"It was quick." Waver admitted. "That finale... I could only watch it from afar, but it all happened so fast. The fights dragged on, until all of a second they all concluded. It felt like they all died within the scope of a minute or two. In the Fourth War you would never see the Grail filled so quickly. Each and every death was an event – for this War, its just a footnote of the greater battle. It's odd to think that the first war is already over."

The First King shrugged. "I am glad this wasn't the true finale – far too quick. But for a warm up, it was certainly enjoyable. I am glad that I wasn't hasty in killing that Master – he has earned the death I will deliver upon him, but that doesn't change how I am quite amused by his actions."

"So he would be your favourite to win... if you weren't planning to kill him?"

Gilgamesh snorted. "I have no favourites to win. After all, the only one who will hold the Grail in the end is me. The Makiri was able to make a wish, and I won't begrudge him for actually fulfilling the terms of conditions that Ruler assigned, but that first round was merely the warm up. Introduction of the cast, setting the scene. The next wish will be the decider – I will reclaim the Grail then. With the weak culled, we now have a far more interesting second round on our hands. And I expect this finale will be far more to my tastes."

"Well, I imagine it will be fast. The Grey Team has six Servants still – their combined might is enough to utterly destroy either remaining Team in an all out battle."

"Consequently, he isn't going to have a very good time, is he?" The Demigod sipped from his golden goblet, and laughed once more. "He expects this round to be difficult, but he has no clue at all! Everyone wishes to see the mighty fall, and the target on his back is largest of all. If he isn't careful, he might even lose before I have the opportunity to kill him!"

"One could only hope." Waver grumbled. "I'm still upset that my King was wiped out so quickly, and that he did it by brainwashing me."

"It was a shame." The King admitted. "I would have enjoyed the chance to fight him once more. But it wasn't meant to be. Still, if you wish for a chance to claim revenge more directly, I wouldn't be opposed to accepting you as a Master. After all, Kirei is no longer providing me any prana, seeing as he is dead."

"No." Waver's reply was so quick it was almost rude. "I will accept only one King, and you are not him."

"Heh. Good. Nice to see that your loyalty remains steadfast." Gilgamesh changed his tune quickly – Waver wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't really meant his offer, and only wanted to test Waver.

"So when are you going to kill him?" Asked Waver, wondering how long the Red Team needed to wait before their biggest problem (save for the Golden King himself) would be taken care of.

"Soon." Gilgamesh answered vaguely. "The deadline approaches, but I am in no rush. Frankly, I want to wring a little more enjoyment out of this comedy."

"Comedy?"

"Naturally! How else can I consider his actions as anything but increasingly funny? The fool might have tried to present himself as the main 'villain' to me, but he lacks the strength to directly be my 'antagonist'. Even with that Goddess of his, he is still nothing before me. No. He sees himself as the protagonist, and is foolish enough to think that with friendship and teamwork and hard work that he will earn a happy ending. Hah! He still hasn't realised that people like him don't get happy endings like that."

"And how do you think his story will end?" Waver asked, pressing his luck.

"How else could it end? Even if he did somehow defeat me, that won't change his fate." Gilgamesh's face darkened. "Frankly, to die by my hand is a mercy he isn't worthy of. The easy portion of this war is over now. The only part of this tragedy left for him is the ending."

XXXXXXXXXX

Sakura awoke to something light and delicate on her open palm. She'd been resting, still feeling as weary as she had been for at least the last week, when she felt something change. There, upon her hand was a beautiful butterfly. She didn't know why she found it so striking, but it wasn't natural. The shade of purple adorning its wings wasn't one she'd seen on a butterfly before.

"You are needed in the Workshop." It spoke, and Sakura understood that this was grandfather calling for her.

Or was it? The voice sounded off, and he had never used a butterfly to deliver a message before. He was perfectly content to send Shinji, or to drop in and see her unannounced.

Except Shinji was dead.

So without considering the circumstances too much, Sakura did the bare minimum for herself to become presentable, and started to head towards the Tohsaka workshop.

Funnily enough, this provided her more dread than even when she needed to go to the Matou worm pit. Despite how long she'd spent in her sisters home (her own childhood home), the former Tohsaka girl hadn't been able to work up the courage to visit the Workshop her father once used.

Still, she knew better than to tell grandfather no.

Sakura pushed open the door to the basement Workshop and let out an audible gasp despite the circumstances. It wasn't what she expected. The furniture was the same as what she remembered; there were nicknack's and tools scattered across it that were familiar presences in her childhood memories. She saw a cordoned off area that screamed 'Rin' with its presentation and item selection.

But the main body of the room was distorted and radically different to what she recalled – no doubt due to Matou Zouken having hijacked the Workshop for his own purposes. Even then though, it didn't fit. The Matou Workshop was cold and wet and humid, with stark stone and a cloying smell she could never seem to wash off. There were insects crawling across every surface and between every crevice; their skittering was frequently the only sound an intruder would hear before being consumed.

In the Tohsaka Workshop... there were flowers. Beautiful and fragrant, growing directly from the floor and the walls. And fluttering between the flora were butterflies and fireflies of all shades and colours. It was a wildness that resembled stepping into an underground garden – and finding the very normal furniture amidst this greenery... it was uncanny.

All in all, a beautiful sight. This was not the work of Matou Zouken.

And so the man before her could not be Matou Zouken.

The strange man was sitting on the spare chair Tokiomi Tohsaka had used for guests (her birth father's chair was left respectfully vacant, deliberately so). He looked like Shinji – if he'd had the chance to grow up. Harsher lines, but his hair and face matched. There were hints of Kariya, and more than a touch of Byakuya too. "Who... are you?"

"Come in. Closer, child." He said instead, his voice kinder than she expected. "Let me take a good look at you."

She was weary, but did as he said, stepping towards the centre of the room. The unknown man appraised her, then sighed tiredly. "It is unfortunately as I remember it to be. I am so very sorry."

"I'm... sorry?" He was apologising? For what?

"Matou Zouken has a lot to answer for." He admitted, not even hiding the regret in his voice. "The man I became was a disgrace in so many different ways. I have a lot to make up for – so many mistakes..."

"The man you became? I still don't understand."

The look he gave her was the same one that Zouken had when he tried to be grandfatherly – and suddenly Sakura saw the similarities as clear as day. "Makiri Zolgen changed his name to 'Matou Zouken' when he moved his family to Japan. He helped craft the Holy Grail Ritual that so many people have fought and died for, all for the sake of a beautiful wish. But he failed. The Heavens Feel failed. Nobody won – she died for nothing. So he sought to stretch out his life, hoping to have another chance to make that wish. However, with time, Matou Zouken forgot Makiri Zolgen."

Sakura said nothing – she now understood enough to make a guess. He was undeniably the man that 'adopted her', just in a very different form. She knew he would happily explain himself to a captive audience. He would tell her how he went from Matou Zouken to this.

"Ironically enough, Zolgen's efforts succeeded. Zouken lived. I got my wish." He said, his voice choked up. "Matou Zouken got his wish. Immortality. To be made whole. The Grail did this by returning him to what he once was, before the rot settled in, and ensuring that the vessel would be capable of postponing any degradation due to time indefinitely. And thus Makiri Zolgen was reborn. Do you understand now, child?"

She nodded. Tohsaka Sakura had been lost when Matou Sakura had been made... so too had Makiri Zolgen become Matou Zouken. But now he was back? He'd won the Grail War? She still didn't understand what was going on.

"So now I have been left to clean up Matou Zouken's messes... and he has made an awful lot of them." Zolgen frowned, and his stress lines became more prominent. "Nagato would be ashamed of me. I was offered an heir of his lineage to take over my decaying line. A beautiful, shining gem many Magi would kill to have given birth to – someone that was perfectly suited to take over the Makiri and Matou Magecraft alike and with the Magic Circuits to return longevity to our family line. Tokiomi fulfilled his ancestors duties and exceeded them. And what did I do? I broke it. I broke her. You. I wasted an heir and experimented on her, taking delight in watching her break. I forgot my duty as a Magus, to continue my lineage, in favour of pursuing my own selfish desires."

These words – Sakura had never expected them to come from her grandfathers lips, under any circumstances. She pinched herself. Was she still dreaming, to see something so unfathomably out of character?

Zolgen rose from his chair, took several steps forwards... and then his upper body tilted as he formally bowed in the Japanese style. "For everything that I have done, Tohsaka Sakura, for ruining your childhood, stifling your potential as a Magus, deceiving your family and experimenting on you for my own twisted gains... I am more sorry than I could ever communicate. I can NEVER make up for this sin."

"... what?" Matou Zouken... no, Makiri Zolgen had just apologised to her. He'd bowed low and formally apologised for his actions. Sakura pinched herself. Still awake. This was really happening. The monster that tortured her was sincerely sorry.

She didn't know how to react. She didn't know what to think. She reached to her face and realised that her normally placid facade had broken – there were tears running down her face. Matou Sakura hadn't cried in front of her grandfather in almost half a decade.

"Those tears... I really do deserve this guilt I feel." Zolgen ended his bow, returning to a neutral position. "I intend to make things up to you... as best as I can, anyway. The Matou line has few assets left, but once I am done, I will leave them all to you. I still have many favours saved away that could be traded away for this and that, and those will be provided too. More than that, with Tohsaka Rin dead along with her guardian Kotomine Kirei, it feels only fair that all assets return to the only remaining Tohsaka – that is within my power to guarantee. All the Matou, Makiri and Tohsaka Magecrafts will be left in your care. What you do with them will be up to you."

This... sounded too good to be true. "I haven't... wanted to be a Magus in many years, Makiri Zolgen."

He nodded solemnly. "And if you choose to burn my library, so be it. I hope it brings you much warmth."

"It... why is this happening? I don't understand."

Why was it that only now was she receiving such pity? Why did it have to come from the man that caused her so much suffering? Why could he only offer such kind words and mercy now, ten years after it was already far too late?

"It's happening because there is good in the world." Zolgen announced confidently. "Humanity is worth fighting for, fundamentally. This is happening because after all I have done, you deserve at least some closure regarding this whole mess. I relieve you of any burdens I have given you – for the Matou have fulfilled none of their duties to you."

Was this really happening? "Am I... free?"

The ancient Magus nodded his head. "I will personally remove those abominable Familiars in your body. I won't stomach such a perversion of the Makiri Magecraft, and am looking forwards to when I can abandon that line of Magecraft entirely. You, Sakura, are free."

Sakura... was free. She hoped this wasn't a cruel joke. She hoped there wasn't a horrible punch line, just waiting out of sight. Because she didn't know that she still had the potential to hope so strongly like this. She didn't know if she could handle this hope being torn away again, not when it seemed to close.

"Or at least... you will be free." And with that amendment to his statement, all her hopes and expectations came crashing down.

"Yes. Will be free." Zolgen confirmed. "Unfortunately, one task still remains. And if I don't fulfil it, then all this suffering we've all endured will be for nothing. 1149 – that is the number of innocent lives lost that my actions have personally caused. For them, at the very least, I must succeed – no matter how abominable I know my actions will need to be to accomplish it. Just one more Sin..."

Oh no. Sakura tried to move. She couldn't move. She tried to squirm, but while she'd been talking to Zolgen, her body had locked up. Her eyes flickered down to the ground and she saw a dim red light from amidst the grass, all around her. A Magic Circle. She'd been tricked. She was dead centre within it.

For while Zolgen was undeniably a kinder man than Zouken... he was also still a Magus, and still carried the weight of all his years as Zouken with him. The man hadn't had those years as a monster stripped away from him, so much as the monster had his years as a human returned instead. Zolgen sickened her, albeit in a different manner to Zouken – he knew his actions were wrong and regretted them, but he intended to press on anyway. He saw his cause as righteous – and the only thing worse than a Magus is a Magus that thinks he's doing the right thing. "So curse my name, my unwilling heir. Curse me with all that you have. I deserve it. But I am afraid that I will need to make you my tool just one more time."

Oh, why had she hoped? Why had she dreamed? For once, why couldn't things just go well, just once?

"Matou Zouken's wish was granted... but Makiri Zolgen's has not been." The Magus explained, his tone going cold now. The face of a troubled man was gone – switched off. Now, the Magus clinically observed the weapon he needed to attain his goals. "For Justeaze, for everyone who has died across this accursed ritual, for each and every man, woman and child in this world... I MUST have my wish! I will bring us all the miracle we need, and I hope that on the other side, you can forgive me. Or at the very least, understand why I needed to do it. But if not, then my promises still stand. I will give everything that I have, life and all. But first... the Grail."

The Grail, the Grail, it always came back to the Grail. It was the root cause of all her problems. She wished that the Holy Grail everyone fought and killed so hard for would just break.

"I have no Servant. I must remedy that. And Ruler cannot let me win again – we made sure of that when we first implemented the Class, after all. So I must handle that too if I am to trick the system and steal another undeserved Wish. For now, I will use you, Sakura. It's not your fault, but I would be a fool not to use a weapon that my other self made simply because it was crafted through the cruellest means possible. But unlike my other self, I will at least give you the dignity of not using you as a human weapon. A tool you will be, but you should not be awake and aware of the sins I will be using you for."

Everything was going dark. Sakura tried to scream out. To anyone, to everyone. She prayed for Shirou to burst through that door and save her – but she hadn't seen Shirou in days. He'd forgotten about her. She prayed for Rin to come home and rescue her – but sister was dead, and had never saved her before. She would welcome anyone, even James at this point.

"Anyone... please... anyone... save me."

But nobody heard her prayers. And nobody came to help the Makiri Lesser Grail.

"Goodnight Sakura." Zolgen's voice was quiet and distant, but it's tone had returned to being comforting. Like a parent trying to urge a child to sleep. By now her vision was almost completely dark, and her mind was growing hazy. It took all she had to remain active and not fall into the abyss – to merely remain as herself. "You will sleep. A pleasant, dreamless slumber. And afterwards, you will awaken to my utopia – where there is no evil left to face but that which I caused to create it. If I can grant you that, perhaps even one such as I can make up for my own sins. Now, doesn't that sound nice?"

Then Sakura was finally falling, and the shadows were rising and climbing around her, clutching her heart tightly. It was colder than the coldest night, but her blood was hotter than ever. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw ribbons floating like kelp in the blackened water.

She cursed them. She cursed them all. Everyone that ignored her. Everyone that forgot her. Everyone that wanted that stupid fucking cup.

And then Sakura knew no more.

XXXXXXXXXX

Deep within the Tohsaka basement, where Nagato Tohsaka's original Workshop was first constructed and the original founders had spent so many evenings scheming and planning, something blasphemous was formed.

The second stage of the Fifth Heavens Feel began not with a bang... but with a quiet whimper.

END PART ONE

AN- with this, the first part of Fate Finality is finally done. For once, I actually feel confident about this fics future. I know where we're going and how to get here, and I believe this story will reach it. The second half of the story will be a lot more fast paced – we've undeniably hit the end game now.

The Grey Team licks their wounds and definitely doesn't tempt fate

Medea is the last remnant of the Blue Team standing

The Shirou and EMIYA team up is here and is probably going to go about as well as one would expect

The Red Team has their game plan set, and look like they'll actually be taking on a more prominent role now that most of the original cast has been offed

Gilgamesh does what Gilgamesh does

And Makiri Zolgen is now in the game

Now, that last point might be a problem to some. I noticed a lot of talk about just what this new Zolgen would be like, so might as well clarify my position for the purposes of this story. Zolgen was a good guy once upon a time... but he was no Shirou Emiya. He wanted a miracle, to bring utopia to humanity... but he was still a Magus. End of the day, after Justeaze died, he made the choice to descend to the depths he did. We can blame some of it on the literal rot in his soul, but nobody forced him. So for this fic, I want to reiterate that those years as Matou Zouken aren't gone. He hasn't been factory reset to before he went off the deep end. Those years of evil can't be ignored. The Grail gave him back that which he lost, but it won't do anything about all the baggage he's accumulated over the last two centuries either.

So I guess this Zolgen is more 60% old school Zolgen due to the much longer time he spent as that man, with 40% coming from Zouken. He regrets every sin he's done and isn't willing to allow their sacrifice to be for nothing.

Zolgen is more moral – but the same vices exist. Zolgen's dream of utopia burns just as strongly as his desire for immortality... and after all the sins he has already committed, then why care if he dirties his hands a little bit more? He will accept the consequences afterwards, but until then, Zolgen the Founder is on the prowl and very eager to take advantage of his final opportunity to make his and Justeaze's dream come true.

Long tangent over. Just want to finish off by saying I'm so glad with the reception this fic has gained over the years. Every comment revitalises the spirit, as it were. Even if I don't reply, I read every one.

So reread and get your tickets for the hype train. Top up the TV Tropes page. Prepare yourself. Not sure when the chapter will be out, but I have a few fun things planned for the future... Undying Soul out.