Assassin grunted as Saber's blow hurled her through the window of a nearby shop. She felt her ribs crack as she hit the wall, and a cry of pain tore out of her before she could stop it. Her vision went hazy and tunneled, and she could hear a ringing in her ears.

It hurts.

A shelf collapsed nearby, throwing magazines all over the floor.

It hurts.

The sounds of battle grew further away.

It hurts.

She knew she was supposed to get up, to stand and keep fighting, but it hurt so badly. She didn't want to get up, didn't want to face Saber again, didn't want to see her own face staring back at her like that—

Why does it always turn out like this?

[I'm scared.]

There was an uncharacteristic silence in the morning hours of the Emiya household. At this time, the kitchen would have come alive as Shirou and Rin prepared breakfast for everyone in the house plus the tiger that would sprint through the door. She always enjoyed those moments. The comfort of a family was not something she had the pleasure of knowing growing up, but she was certain it must have felt like that.

But this wasn't that easy quiet. This was the silence of the damned.

She had hugged him while he cried himself to sleep last night. Torn apart by Rin's death, he was falling apart before her eyes, and the only thing she could do was provide physical comfort—just as he had for her. It didn't feel like enough, it never felt like enough, but it was all she had.

She stood outside of his room, listening to the sound of his breathing through the door.

What are we going to do?

Saber and the Einzbern girl had split their forces so easily that she'd felt like a mouse under the cat's paw. But there was nothing playful about the way that the shining wire-sword impaled Rin's chest. With Saber staving off Archer, Berserker, and herself at the same time, and with Shirou so impossibly far away, they were helpless.

Once again, she had locked blades with that Saber. Once again, she had lost.

She grit her teeth and clenched her fists as a wave of anger washed over her, before it crashed against the sands of despair. Because if the three of them couldn't have taken down Saber, what hope was two?

"You look tired."

She looked up. Berserker's face was mostly covered by a red plaid scarf, but her cool golden eyes were touched with concern.

She tried to smile. It didn't work.

"If you have anything to be excited about, I'd love to hear it."

Berserker tilted her head to the side. "Hurting yourself like this will not make you stronger, Assassin."

Another wave of anger.

"Don't call me that," she hissed.

"I'm not going to call you Saber." Berserker crossed her arms. "Especially not in front of him."

She clamped her jaw shut. There was no arguing with that. Those shoes were stained with blood now, and she didn't want to walk in them.

I wasn't good enough.

Berserker leaned on the wall across from her and sighed. "It feels like forever ago, doesn't it?"

Flashes of a life that was both her own and not her own rushed past her mind's eye. The dirt poor farm, the Saxon raiders, the Sword not moving an inch no matter her efforts—all of these felt so close she could taste them. But they were covered by the shadow of time, and as a Servant they were not deemed part of who she was enough to be worth keeping in their entirety.

She remembered the deal with Alaya. She remembered the hell she put herself through just to become worth something. And she remembered what it felt like to finally be recognized for that.

But it still wasn't good enough.

""Yes," she answered quietly.

That person, the me in my—in our memories..." Berserker said slowly. "They aren't me anymore. They are like me, but they are not me. Does that make sense?"

"I don't feel like I've changed from that person at all..." she murmured. "I'm still just not good—"

"Says who?"

"Says me!" she snapped, but she quickly shut her mouth as the words echoed down the hall. Shirou deserved his rest.

"Why don't you think you're good enough?" Berserker's gaze was still cool, still concerned, and still on her.

"Because we failed!" she hissed, jabbing a finger at the other Servant. "Rin died! You can't define that as anything other than a failure!"

"So then you think you're better than either Archer or I."

"Stop that. You know that's not what I meant."

"But it's what you said, Assassin."

"Don't—"

"Keep it down," Berserker reminded her cooly, and she clenched her jaw. "You aren't me, and I'm not you. Neither of us are the person we were before. Why are you still deluding yourself?"

"Because I need to be Saber!" Her fists tightened at her sides. "I have to be! If I'm not, then—"

"—then you're nothing, is that it?"

The heavy silence spoke for itself.

"I remember everything you do from back then," said Berserker. "I know what you're thinking of when you're hurting yourself, like you're doing right now."

"Then you understand!"

"No, I don't." Berserker shook her head. "Because I'm not that person, and I don't need to be Saber. I need to be me."

The other Servant held a hand out.

"And... I need to be your sister."

"That's not what we are, and you know it," she muttered angrily, turning her eyes aside. The hand didn't move away.

"Two sides of the same coin face in different directions." She could tell by the way that the other's eyes curled that she was smiling. "What's wrong with being twins?"

She couldn't dig out a reply, but neither did she shake the outstretched hand.

"Fine. You've forced my hand."

Berserker moved towards her, and for a moment she was scared the other Servant was going to attack. Her heart pounded and her hands raised defensively—

The other Servant knocked on the door twice. "Hey. Shirou. Wake up."

"What are you doing?!" she hissed, but Berserker had stopped listening to her. Her self-proclaimed sister slid open the door and walked inside.

Her Master was curled on his futon, blinking away his dreams as he slowly sat up. "Berserker...?" he asked tiredly.

"What class is your Servant?" Berserker asked bluntly.

Shirou wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. They were red. "Excuse me?"

Berserker pointed to her. "What class is she? Who did you summon?"

He turned his gaze to her—so considerate that she couldn't look him in the eye. So considerate that it almost concealed the bags under his eyes. Berserker knew her, must have known that she didn't want to bother him with this. Not while he struggled and she could do nothing to help him. She looked at her feet and kicked the floor idly, awkwardly.

"...she called herself Saber when she appeared," he said after a few moments.

"What class is she?" Berserker repeated.

Another silence. She felt her jaw shudder. It hurts.

"Assassin."

It felt like a punch to the gut. She curled her arms around her stomach protectively. Her eyes stung with tears already shedding.

"So?" Berserker turned to her again. "What are you?"

"I'm not..." she mumbled, as a tight coffin closed on her heart. "I... I..."

"Who are you, sister?"

She fell to her knees, the question hurtling forward as an accusation that speared through her.

it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts

A hesitant hand brushed against hers, then clutched at it tightly. Shirou kneeled before her. She let him take the other.

"It… it wasn't your fault. If I'd…"

He paused, then exhaled slowly.

"You're strong," he said quietly. "You've protected me wherever you could. Even if last night was…" his throat caught for a moment. "...I'm still here."

"I'm not strong enough..." she whispered through tears. "I couldn't save her..."

His grip tightened even further, and he looked away for a moment.

I fuck up everything I touch.

"...you're strong," he repeated as he turned back to her. Up close like this, she could clearly see how much he had cried last night from the redness in his eyes. He sniffed and wiped at his nose. "You're strong. Strong enough to stand up after... something like that... and you're strong enough to help me avenge her."

"No..." She shook her head. "No, we'll just die! We can't... I don't want you to..."

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered instantly, then paused. "I... I don't like it when you risk your life, but... I trust you."

"Do you believe in me?"

"...yes."

"Then when I say I trust you and that I believe in you, will you listen to me?" He interlaced his fingers between her own and squeezed.

"...I... I..."

"Please?" He leaned forward to bump his forehead gently against hers.

it hurts

"I..."

make it stop

"I..."

please

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"...okay."

His smile was small, gentle, but it felt like the sun.

"I have a plan," he said after a few moments. "But I need you to help me. Will you please help me... Assassin?"

The wave of anger rose and threatened to snuff out the small sparks of joy that were flitting about in her heart. She felt it in her throat, harsh like acid. But she swallowed it back, even though it burnt all the way down.

She didn't want to be angry anymore.

She didn't want to hurt anymore.

She wanted to be good enough.

Assassin nodded. "With everything I have."

[But I don't want to fail anymore.]

"—ey! Hey!"

Assassin blinked away the spots in her vision to see Shirou shaking her, eyes frantic.

"Shi... rou...?" she mumbled, then groaned. It hurt! Everything hurt so bad!

"Thank goodness," he sighed. "I was worried we lost you."

"Emiya?!" Berserker's Master—Ayako, Assassin reminded herself—ran into her vision. "Don't run off like that, idiot!"

"She just got kicked into a building!" Shirou protested. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Not run into a battlefield!"

"Get out of here..." Assassin groaned, holding her head. "Don't... get in her line of fire..."

An outstretched hand. A determined expression. Firm amber eyes.

"I'm not leaving you," Shirou said.

Even though she wanted to scream at him, to throw him three blocks away, because she would do anything to protect him—she smiled. It hurt—it hurts it hurts it hurts—but she could bear it. She wanted to bear it for him... and for her.

The sound of trickling glass falling to the floor had them all turning back. Saber was stepping through the window, barely a scratch on her armor. Her expression was dark as the night.

"Move!" Assassin grabbed Shirou's arm and pulled him down, throwing herself forward to stave the enemy off for just a few moments more. They just needed a little more time...!

She feinted an upward slash, but Saber simply blocked and bashed her with her shoulder plate. The bruise in her ribs whined but she didn't fall. She couldn't. She stepped inside Saber's guard and narrowly avoided being tripped by the other Servant.

A glint of red caught her eye, and she pushed Saber back just enough to force her into the path of Berserker's oncoming blade. The enemy Servant quickly saw through it, and jumped back out into the street, putting some distance between them.

"Thanks for the assist," Assassin said, wiping away some blood from her lip. Her chest ached so much, but she didn't let the pain take her down. People were counting on her.

"No problem, little sister."

Assassin risked a glance at Berserker, who was in her dark combat outfit and thus bore a teasing smile openly.

"I said don't call me that," she muttered, though she couldn't find the anger to sharpen her words.

"Whatever you say." Berserker's expression turned serious. "Still haven't seen the Master."

"Shirou and Ayako are too close for comfort," Assassin added, tightly gripping her blade as she saw Saber's stance tense. "Get ready—!"

Before she had finished the warning, Saber was upon them, her invisible blade cutting the air. Berserker dodged back, Assassin ducked beneath it, and both threw their own slashes at Saber. The enemy Servant blocked them both at the same time, but Assassin quickly drew her blade back and lunged at Saber's side.

Saber moved back to let Berserker's weight fall forward, placing her in the path of Assassin's sword. But Assassin diverted her blade to the side and put her hand out, which Berserker grabbed and used to flip back up.

The three combatants stilled for a moment, gazes locking.

"Will you yield?" Saber asked. "I will make your ends swift and painless."

Assassin grit her teeth and brandished her sword before her with two hands. Berserker spun her own sword a few times before pointing it at Saber.

"We offer the same to you," she replied.

"I thought as much," Saber said. Assassin thought she heard a hint of melancholy in her tone, but that couldn't have been right.

Could it?

The thought didn't last long, for Saber gave no further pause. She slashed between them, forcing the two apart, before concentrating on Assassin once more. Assassin's blade roared with the crack of thunder as Saber's invisible sword clashed against it, sparks flying in the melee.

Saber's strength felt like the weight of a skyscraper pressing down on her, but Assassin was ready when the enemy Servant drew her blade away and went for a slash at her legs. She stepped back and blocked the attack, locking Saber in place for a crucial moment.

Berserker leapt out from behind the enemy Servant and aimed a blow at her head. But Assassin had no chance to react before an armored fist slammed into her gut and knocked the wind out of her lungs. Her enemy twirled around to parry Berserker's blade, and Berserker could do nothing else as Saber kicked her through a street lamp and a stop sign. As Assassin made to attack once more, Saber grabbed her by the neck and threw her back into the street.

She hit the ground hard, gasping in pain as the asphalt cracked under her. The sound was choked off when Saber placed a boot on her neck.

"The weakness of your Masters betrays you both," she spoke firmly. "I offer again: yield. Do not suffer a demeaning death."

But the shame and agony only incited her rage further. Assassin grabbed Saber's leg with both hands and gripped tight.

"Speak for yourself, Saber."

She put every ounce of vitriol she had thrown at herself for so many years into that word. The enemy Servant brought her blade up to bury its tip in her heart, but a crackling noise made her head snap around. Her eyes widened, and she attempted to jump off Assassin, but the grip on her leg kept her down. Assassin grinned, even as Saber brought her blade up.

"O wind!" Saber thundered the command as her blade cut upwards. A gust of air blew around her, sending dust flying, but the surge of red lightning ignored whatever shield she had summoned. The blow ripped her from Assassin's grip, sending her flying away to slam into something out of her view.

Assassin groaned and gathered herself, standing on shaking legs. Berserker quickly stepped to her side and made to steady her, but she waved her off as she looked to find their enemy. Saber had crashed into the second floor of another building, dust obscuring its contents.

"She's not out yet," Assassin stated the obvious.

"It'd be nice if it was that easy," Berserker replied.

The dust blew away as Saber leapt out, her sword glowing bright in the sun. The street shattered beneath her as she landed some feet away. Her expression was stone cold, tinted with annoyance.

"Think we pissed her off a bit," her sister muttered.

Assassin grinned. "Good."

A weight pressed into her left hand, and she looked to see Berserker giving her unpowered hilt over.

"Should have thought of it before," she said. "You take short, I go long. Press it twice to go double-bladed."

"Wait, it can—"

"GO!"

Assassin leapt forwards, the new red blade crackling to life in her off hand. She yelled in exertion as she slashed down at Saber, both of her swords blocked by the bright golden weapon—

—the cold hilt unmoving under her fingertips no matter how hard she pulled no matter how much she begged—

—the enemy Servant tilted her blade to the side to force Assassin to fall to her right. She planted her foot, sweeping back to attack Saber's thighs before the other servant could try to strike at her back. Saber made to block, but froze for a millisecond before hurling herself backwards.

From her place a dozen paces to the side, Berserker's entire body glowed as lightning shot down both of her arms. It lingered there, a bloody halo surrounding the Servant, then abruptly exploded into a hellish storm aimed directly at Saber.

Saber screamed. Assassin could scarcely even make her out amidst the rivers of power, amid the shattering of concrete and stone as Berserker's rage ripped the street to pieces. Only the golden glow of her sword, still held up like a bulwark against the flood, showed that Saber still sood.

Baring her teeth as the lightning slowly died, Assassin pressed her attack with both swords, only barely aware of Berserker collapsing somewhere behind them. She met a hastily raised block from Saber. Though initially disoriented, the enemy Servant swiftly recovered. A few blows exchanged later, she caught Assassin's blades on her own and shoved the other Servant back.

Saber glowered at her as they broke apart, real anger darkening her features for the first time. Both Assassin and her sister readied themselves to resume only to freeze when a new voice split the air.

"Saber!"

The Servants turned to see the little Einzbern girl standing in the room where Saber had been thrown into earlier. Her unhappiness was very evident.

"Stop playing around and finish them already!" the girl called. Saber nodded, the golden light of her sword brightening.

Assassin grinned and tightened her grip on her own weapons.

Gotcha.

"This light is the planet's hope," proclaimed Saber, holding her blade tight in front of her, the light becoming so bright as to hurt Assassin's eyes. "Proof of the life that illuminates this world!"

"Sword of Starlight, Sword of Shadows," Assassin muttered, and her blades sent an echo through her, affirming her intent. "Guide me to the fated destruction I always sought."

And in her mind, she heard her Master speak.

'My body is made out of swords.'

Saber's blade rose high above her head, an unseen wind whipping her hair and clothing around.

"Behold!" she cried.

Assassin took one long step forward, the blue and red light of her swords shimmering and coating her hands. "Cataphract shift."

"Ex—"

'Rule Breaker.'

Purple lightning tore out of the place that the Einzbern girl stood, the girl's scream of pain following an instant later. The brilliant light of Saber's sword died in the same moment, and she looked to it in shock—

"—calibur."

Assassin thrust her blades into Saber's chest and forced her to the ground. Her knees buckled as blood spurted from her mouth, her sword falling from limp fingers. It began to fade the moment it hit the ground, its owner landing next to it a moment later.

Assassin panted as she stared at her fallen enemy splayed on the concrete, blood leaking from the two holes she had pierced in her. Saber's head fell to the side with a sigh.

"...I am so tired of failing."

The broken whisper made Assassin stop.

"You don't know the meaning of failure," she growled.

Saber let out a wry chuckle as her feet began to turn into dust. "Were I only so lucky. I bear too much sin not to know failure. My Britain died with me, and I put the sword in the murderer's hands."

"...then why did you answer the call?" Assassin couldn't help but ask.

Her smile was filled with jaded hope and cracked dreams. "You already know why. Otherwise you would not have bested me."

The sight of that forlorn smile drove the anger from her. It was too familiar to hate.

Assassin exhaled, waving a hand to dismiss the swords. "Clearly your reason wasn't strong enough."

"I disagree," Saber said with a bloody cough. The dust had reached her abdomen, and her hands were beginning to go. "It was I who wasn't strong enough. I will take more care next time."

Her heart clenched. It felt like looking in a mirror.

Assassin fell to a knee before the dying Servant. "I hope that you find happiness somewhere down the line too."

Saber finally turned her eyes to her, sapphire glinting with life even as she faded away. "I doubt I will... but I can settle for solace."

And she was dust in the wind.

Assassin fell down as her legs suddenly lost all strength. Something bubbled in her chest, a feeling so bright it burned. The smile she wore was so wide it was painful, and she looked to the sky. Laughter emerged from her lips, quiet at first but growing louder and louder until her chest hurt even more and her eyes stung from the tears.

Sobs still racked through her when a hand came to her shoulder. She turned, and Shirou stood there with a gentle smile.

"You did it," he said.

She jumped up and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him as tight as she could.

"I did it," she echoed.

"Good job," he said quietly in her ear. She couldn't stop the tears, but this time, they were tears bursting with joy.

"Thank you."

Hello there. It's good to see you again.

"I normally don't like to write long chapter notes, but I think that you guys deserve some answers." — Pallan Minerva, August 1st 2019.

It's hard to follow up on the act of tearing your soul wide open for the world to see. I... had a lot of ideas, but they kept sputtering out on me and going in directions I didn't want them to. So I occasionally scribbled down some notes, maybe formed some pieces together, and let this be for a while. But finally, this chapter came to be from something very silly—the recent idol event in FGO JP. But that's the best kind of inspiration—that which unfurls profoundness from triviality.

To everyone that said the previous chapter in this saga echoed within you… thank you. To those that sympathized and empathized with her plight, thank you. To those that saw her in a completely different light, to those that grailed her because of that chapter, thank you. You made me feel like this story was valuable and worth keeping every time I screamed at myself while falling down a self-loathing spiral and nearly pushed the delete button. You reminded me that I can still do some good in this world. I hope I didn't let you down. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much.

This chapter couldn't have been completed without the help and support of the Loresingers. Maybe one day I will be able to express this gratitude to them with more than words.

Your ending theme is disillusion by Sachi Tainaka.

Thanks for reading.