Fate Stay Night – Unlimited Boob Works
Chapter 23
"The Holy Grail War"
"Are you sure this is the best way?"
Rin asked a bit nervously, looking around the temple grounds. Issei and Lancer were busy moving several pieces of magical furniture and equipment at Caster's direction, while Saber looked on in supervision.
"In strategy the shortest distance is seldom a straight line", Saber said, with her hands on her hips. "Tell the witch to continue her preparations – "
At this, both Issei and Lancer looked up, clearly expecting some sort of altercation. But Caster shrugged the matter off with a wave.
"If her plan works, I'm willing to forgive the insult. But if it fails – well, I'll be spared the trouble of having to avenge myself. Still, either way – if it DOES work, I expect things will happen rather quickly. My magic can summon the Grail, and even help stabilize it to some degree, but it won't be able to hold up to that much power for long. We'll have to be swift."
"Hmm."
Saber nodded her agreement. Issei and Lancer went back to their assigned tasks, while Caster resumed her incantations, leaving Rin to look around with uncertainty.
"Still – wouldn't it be better to go to the Matou estate? Zouken will be there, so Assassin is sure to – "
Saber shook her head.
"There are only so many places in Fuyuki City where the Holy Grail can be summoned. It's possible to summon it at the Tohsaka estate, or at Fuyuki Church – but I don't trust that damned priest – no offense – " she said with a glance in Father Kotomine's direction.
Kirei smiled good naturedly, an expression that was altogether at odds with his character.
"None taken."
"We know it can also be summoned in the field that used to be Fuyuki Park . . ." she said, her voice trailing off as she looked at Shiro. " – But the best location is here, at Ryudo.
'Zouken wants the Grail more than anything else – though at this point I'm not sure even he remembers why. He'll do anything to get it. And we can be certain that he's sent Assassin to keep an eye on us. We can't see him – his ability of Presence Concealment is too perfect. But with all this activity, we can be sure that he's lurking around here somewhere – "
As if in answer to her summons, a black dagger came flipping out of the darkness. It twirled end over end, turning once – twice – before lodging deeply in the trunk of a nearby tree, as suddenly as if it had materialized there. A moment later, its owner materialized too, stepping out of the shadows.
"Eh – heh – heh – heh – "
Saber smirked.
"I thought you preferred hiding, and skulking around in the dark?"
"Heh – heh – It is as you say, pretty lady. You already know that I am here, so of what use then is further deception? Though I dare say, you are still a few Servants shy of being able to summon the Holy Grail – "
"On the contrary – you've brought me everything I need. But then, your Master knows that too – "
At this, there was another voice in the darkness.
"Mmm – hmm – hmm – hmm – "
Suddenly, from up in the trees, there was a whirlwind – a spiraling tornado, full of high pitched voices and the fluttering of wings. It went up like a roar, then came spiraling down in a tumultuous storm of insectoid bodies, forming up into a column, from which, when they parted, a wizened old figure emerged.
Shiro frowned.
"Zouken Matou – "
The old man smiled.
"Recently a Saber class Servant was cast into the Grail – "
Shiro lunged, but Saber held out her arm to hold him back.
"When you used Rule Breaker, you became a Caster, and then you used your new found powers to give yourself elements of the Lancer and Rider class. Really, when did the King of Knights become so wanton and lascivious?"
Shiro gritted his teeth.
"Your friend's little ritual, interesting though it is, could account for one, at most two of the other classes. Any way you look at it, you're still at least one Servant short – "
"That's where you come in. The Grail it seems is not particular – an Assassin class Servant should do."
Zouken laughed again.
"Hmm – mmm – mmm – You're a fool. But so were we. I will say – this is quite possibly the first and only time in the history of the entire Grail War that someone has actually attempted to prosecute the matter in the way in which it was originally intended to be fought. To that end, I salute you. However, it will not change the outcome – "
And here he let his eyes linger over Rin and Sakura. And Illya.
"I see you've brought an assortment of Vessels with you. Have you already decided among yourselves which one of you will become the body of the Holy Grail?" he asked, letting his eyes return to Illya, where they lingered long.
'Or would you like me to choose – "
"You BASTARD!" Shiro shouted, lunging forward, so that Saber had to physically restrain him, before turning him over to Archer and Lancer's keeping.
"Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?" Saber taunted.
"Fair enough. Assassin – she's a Saber class Servant. Under normal circumstances, there would be no way you could beat her openly. Not like this. Are you sure you can win?"
Assassin bowed.
"Eh – heh – Yes, my lord. It will be as it was before."
"Are you certain? She seems different this time."
Assassin shook his head, causing the smiling skull mask he wore to wag from side to side.
"The difference is only superficial – a matter of bearing and of speech. She is as she was. And as things were, so shall they be."
"Very well, I give you my permission. You may begin."
For a moment the two of them stared at each other – Assassin's face hidden behind the smiling skull mask against the emerald gleam of Saber's green eyes. Slowly he turned his head to the side, crooking his neck at an unnatural angle, to which she responded by turning Excalibur in her hands, tracking him with its tip.
"Eh – heh – heh – "
Reaching into his sash, he drew out several of his knives. Suddenly he slashed up – down – across – each time loosing one of the blades towards her. By themselves they were rather pitiful weapons – certainly no match for her sword, devoid of the great blade's power and reach. But each was thrown with precision, and power – and the intent to kill, aimed at some vital target, so that while each of them alone was easy enough to deflect, she had no choice but to react to every one.
"Hyah!"
Having no intention of letting him set the tempo, she lunged towards him, slashing with her sword in a broad stroke. But he leapt back lightly, careful to keep the same measured distance beneath them.
Reaching across his body, he took out two more of the daggers, then lifting his hand, struck down, then up, letting the slashing motion of his arm take the place of a sword.
"Just how many of those damned things does he have?" Saber wondered.
It was impossible to guess. His broad form was wrapped, swaddled in several layers of black gauze that effectively muted whatever lay beneath. They gave substance to his otherwise ephemeral appearance, making him appear larger – his long arms look longer, his tall legs look thinner – shrunken and gaunt, downright skeletal in their appearance, and all the while the skull mask smiled over the rag and bone show he was putting on underneath.
Another lunge brought her within striking distance. For a moment the sound of steel on steel rang out as the great sword clashed against his paired daggers, clearly getting the better of him, though by resting them against his arms, he was able to withstand the blows, and keep her from driving him into the ground.
"Careful!" Archer warned. "He's measuring you again, like last time – "
Suddenly Assassin broke into a run. Following him, Saber quickly realized that he had steered their course so that her path ran up the side of the outdoor verandah, where it ran along the temple wall, so that she was forced to climb a short flight of wooden steps, and then navigate the intervening pillars and railings, all while he slashed away at her.
"Heh – heh – heh – "
"Enough!" she shouted, vaulting off the side in a sharp, right angle turn, bringing her sword overhead and cleaving down in a strike that surely would have rent him in two, had he not leapt back at the last moment. As it was, the broad tip passed just inches from his face.
"Tricky bastard!"
But the sudden return to level ground did not favor her, for as he leapt forth, pressing her, she suddenly found herself with the edge of the wooden walkway against the back of her legs, while the corner of one of the founding stones on which the columns rested caught her heels, so that she very nearly toppled over backwards, and had to fight to restrain herself as she collapsed against the pillar.
"EH – HEH – HEH !" he laughed, reaching out towards her heart.
Seeing the danger, she seized his arm, and wrenching it with a savage yank, threw him up, over the railing, where he went crashing through one of the sliding doors, with Saber vaulting up, over the side, to go hurrying after.
There was a brief exchange that spanned across two of the temple rooms, but neither of them got the better of it. The low ceilings inhibited the strokes of Saber's sword, seeming to favor a shorter weapon, negating much of her reach. But it was terrifying to be near her, especially in such an enraged state. With no room to evade, she launched herself towards him, sending them both crashing out the other side again, her green eyes wild as her blonde hair and bits of splintered wood hung suspended before them as she chopped away at him.
"HYY – YAH!" she shouted, making another overhead strike that cleft the railing and destroyed the wooden walkway where he'd stood, making him flee out into the field beyond.
"Ha! You have changed," he said, weaving from side to side, dodging her strokes. "You've gotten stronger. Your light is brighter. But in the end it won't do you any good. Where there is light, there will always be darkness. A brighter light just casts more shadows – "
And with a sudden leap, his seemed to disappear into her shadow, momentarily fading from her view.
"Careful!" Shiro shouted.
Saber's sword went wide, passing overhead as he bobbed beneath it, appearing again on the other side. She struck again, but it was no use. His every move mimicked hers – even though he was so close to her, she could not touch him. It was as if he had become her own shadow.
Assassin leaned to one side, and then the other, as two more strokes carved the air in front of him, each one coming dangerously close as it passed, and then he dove, disappearing altogether, only to appear again at her shoulder.
"He's behind you!" Shiro called, visibly shaken. But Saber remained calm. Without moving her head or her eyes, she took one hand off of her sword, and struck behind her. The move was sudden, and un-foreshadowed, the blade travelling in a wide arc, so that Assassin had to make a desperate leap to avoid it, disappearing into the shadows of a clump of trees.
From somewhere in the darkness a pair of daggers came whirling out at her. The broad blade defeated them easily, sending each one to the ground with a clang, only to find a second set of them raining down from above. Saber deflected these too, then looking up, scanned the line of trees, searching for the threat.
Suddenly one of the shadows at their base grew long. With a burst of supernatural speed he lunged towards her, running as the threw off the bandages that wrapped his right arm to reveal his cursed hand, illuminated with a hellish red glow.
"Zanbaniya!" he shouted, stretching his fingers towards her,
For a moment it seemed the two would touch.
And then he stopped dead in his tracks.
"HRR – URRK!"
He shouted as the region around his throat erupted, bristling with knives as he dropped to the floor.
"MACHAIRI!" Caster finished her spell, glaring down the length of her outstretched arm. "THAT'S for Souichirou – " she said, her voice equal parts fire and ice as she spoke with a calmness and a coldness that could barely conceal the malice beneath.
"And this is for me – "
"U – W – A – A – U – U – G – G – A – A – H – H ! ! ! !"
At her words, a second collection of spikes materialized behind his mask, filling his head with their thorns as he writhed on the ground and screamed.
Zouken glared.
Rising up he became a whirlwind, as his whole body spread out into a swarm of the tiny thousand insects from which it was made, each of them buzzing, filling the air with their voices and the screeching sound of their wings. He soared over Caster's head, reforming into a giant cone, coming down like a javelin or a lance, crashing down towards Issei, making the boy leap away as he fled for his life while Zouken reformed behind him in the place where he had been.
"Now I really must say – " he began, tapping his cane on the ground angrily, "I have been enjoying this little show of yours – ridiculous as it has been. But from here on out, I must insist that there are no further interruptions – " he said, still glaring in Caster's direction. "Or else I shall have to take matters into my own hands."
With that he divided himself, so that half of the swarm remained where it was, leaving a thin, spectral image of himself, while the other half descended on Assassin's body. They covered him like a cloud, so that Shiro could not see what they did, but whatever damnable sort of medicine they applied, it must have worked, for when they withdrew, Assassin lay on the ground whole.
Saber, for her part, remained on her guard, with her sword drawn back at her side ready to strike, but she took no action against him while Assassin climbed to his feet.
"Hmm – mmm – mmm – mmm", Zouken chuckled again, smiling thoughtfully. "Not to strike an enemy while he is down – How noble – And yet how very foolish. Just like a Saber. And everything a Saber should be."
Saber watched as Assassin stretched his arms, working the life back into his fingers, then tilted his head, first to one side, then the other, each time eliciting a nauseating crack, as gruesome as the skull's smile was grotesque.
"I must admit, pretty lady, I cannot beat you – not like this – "
"Oh?" Saber asked, lifting her chin, but keeping a careful grip upon the hilt of her sword. "Are you ready to surrender, then?"
"Eh – heh – I said nothing about giving up. Though it doesn't seem like much of a contest now, does it? Me with my rags and my poor little knives, against you with your armor and your sword.
'But armor's a funny thing, you know? It's heavy, it slows you down – " he said, launching a sudden strike at Saber's face that she had to hurry to deflect. "It protects one thing while it doesn't protect another. The eyes – the throat – the neck – " he said, loosing a dagger at each target as he spoke. "And then there are other places – " he added, hurtling a dagger carefully aimed at a spot just below her waist.
Saber struck down, deflecting the knife harmlessly to the ground as she glared at him.
"Now that's just rude!"
"There are always gaps – at the joints, where things come together, where two of the plates overlap. There are always weak points. So in the end, all the armor really does is show me where to strike – " he said, finishing with a particularly savage blow aimed at her throat, just over the rise of her silver gorget where it came up to protect it.
"You're in a nasty mood", Saber retorted, smiling as she held her sword in front of her, threatening him with its tip. "What happened to put you so out of sorts so suddenly? I for one was rather enjoying our little game."
"A matter of unfinished business, I suppose. And a bit of professional jealousy – I don't like when people don't die when they are killed", he laughed. Reaching into his waistband, he lashed his hand up suddenly, hurtling a knife at the space directly between Saber's eyes. He threw it with such force and such suddenness that she had to struggle to deflect it. As it was, she only just barely made it in time, so that that the blade grazed her as it passed, making Shiro cry out at the sight of the red trickle that formed on her cheek.
"Saber! Be careful!"
"Eh – heh – the boy would be most upset if something were to happen to your pretty face. Might I suggest a helmet – or perhaps I could interest you in a nice mask?"
"I was thinking I would have yours – I was planning to take it from you – after I cut off your head!" she answered, making another broad stroke that made him scramble to avoid it.
"Oh ho! Uncover THIS face, would you? Now that would be something. I don't know that there's a face left under here anymore, but you are certainly welcome to try – " he said, once more lunging close.
"My Master is not honorable. But he is fair. After I kill you, if I petition him nicely, I am sure that he will let me give the boy a quick and relatively painless death. Unless of course you would prefer that I draw it out – he does have a remarkable sense of endurance, unskilled though he is, and considerable strength. A pity that he never had time to give that strength to you – or did he?"
The skull mask leered.
"HYAH!" Saber shouted, striking with sudden force, wild and impulsive, not like her usual, measured strength.
"I see he did not. But no matter. My Master can be most generous – at times downright magnanimous. Perhaps with suitable supplication he can be persuaded to let the boy live.
'He will be devastated, of course – over losing you. Indeed, he will be beside himself with grief. But that will fade with time. And that little snow white thing will be willing to console him in her arms – and in other places – "
"I know what you're doing – " Saber said, striking viciously again. "And it's not going to work!"
"Ah, to the contrary – it already has worked. That last strike of yours – so savage – such strength! But lacking your usual power and grace. Already your blade has begun to waver.
'But no matter. After you are gone, she will be there for him, so you needn't worry. Look – you can see it – he already favors her. The way he stands in front of her so protectively, while she leans in close behind him – "
"YAHH!"
Saber struck again, but instead of dodging, Assassin caught the sword against one of his knives, letting the blade slide down the back of it, before stepping in for a vicious stab.
"Come to think of it, his Father was like that too, wasn't he? He favored her Mother. There must be something about it – perhaps it's that long white hair?"
"GRR – "
"I suppose it really is as they say – like Father, like Son –"
Once more the great sword rang.
"Of course you already knew all this, didn't you? But you didn't mind – Perhaps you had already understood that there was nothing you could do about it. Or perhaps the two of you had agreed to share him? That's not unheard of, you know. It was not uncommon – in certain times and places. Sometimes there's more than one – " Assassin said, holding up his hand beside his shoulder, then shifting it so that she could see a knife between each of his fingers, spreading out like a fan.
"HYAHH!"
The skull mask smiled.
"Evidently such arrangements were not agreeable to you. Good for you, my Lady. You are strong and bold. I for one agree with you – you should be the only one –"
Saber struck again. But this time, instead of dodging, Assassin caught the sword against his knives, letting his long arms absorb the shock of the blow.
"HRRR – "
The great sword struck down from overhead. Catching it on the dagger's edge, Assassin laid the blade along his arm, so that it made a kind of roof for him as he passed under it. And then he dispensed with his knives altogether.
Twisting his hands, he folded them one way, so that the right was over the left, then back again the other, so that his left was over his right. And then he removed the cover on his right arm, to reveal the glowing read hand underneath.
"Zanbaniya – "
Saber's hands were over her head, drawn up and ready for another strike. He caught them as they were coming down, catching her moving forward, so that she could not retreat or escape.
"Oh, pretty maiden, I almost feel sorry for you – " he said, as his fingers brushed the silver armor that covered her breast, then sank beneath it.
"To try so hard, and for things still to turn out the same way. You must succumb to darkness. Now, do you not see it – that this truly is fate?"
Suddenly Saber found herself floating. She was not on top of the water, nor had she sunk to the bottom, but was lying on her back, floating somewhere in between.
"What is this place?"
Stars twinkled overhead. At the edge of her field of vision a curved line came into view.
"What's wrong with the moon?"
Instead of its usual white shape, the whole orb had turned black, as if something had stabbed a hole in the fabric of the sky, from which a waterfall of black ichor had come bleeding out, pouring down to the earth.
"It looks like it's – crying . . ."
The curved borders at the edge of her view sloped down, flowing into a grey wall that arched in before billowing out again, like the shape of a bell, rounding off underneath to a bottom that was lined with the silt of some dark and sandy substance. At once she recognized where she was.
"The Grail . . ."
The momentum of having been thrown in had carried her below the surface, to where she'd found herself floating momentarily, suspended like this. Gradually she could feel her heels sinking, until they tilted down below her, leaving her still floating, albeit now in a more upright position. Up ahead, something flickered in the darkness. A memory.
In the darkness the sudden light was blinding – overwhelming. The girl's hair was short, beautifully blonde, with cut edges that tickled against her neck like feathers. She wore a simple tunic of white linen, with an old brown hunting vest over the top of it, while on her legs a pair of tights, down to where they disappeared into a pair of boots.
Ah, yes – it had been that day.
All around her, the grass was impossibly green, as it wafted in the breeze, a ripple running through it like the marshalling of an army. Overhead the sky was clear and blue. In front of her the stone was cold and grey, with the jeweled sword sticking out of it.
"Are you sure?" the old man's voice called.
She nodded.
"You know there's no going back after this – "
She could still remember the feel of it, and how the handle looked when she held it between her fingers, and the sight of the slit in the stone as it came out of the rock. Even back then she'd known – she understood somehow that this was a solemn pledge – a pact – a covenant.
Saber shook her head. She could still feel the hilt of her own sword in her hands, where she held it down beside her, holding on for dear life. Someone was with her in the darkness.
Fire. The neighing of horses. She could hear the clanking of armor, and of maille corselets ringing, along with the rain of arrows, and the clashing of swords.
Rain – It was raining somewhere. She could hear it.
The smell of smoke was in the air, mixed with dirt. And blood.
And now it was raining here. She could feel it, washing the dirt and blood off of her face.
"What happened?"
"I went to the water, and – "
"Yes?"
Saber was lying on her back, propped against a tree. A grievous wound was in her chest.
"And I threw the sword in – and – "
"Yes, and – "
"And – "
"What happened then? What did you see?"
" – Nothing happened . . . I – I didn't see anything – "
"Bedivere, you idiot!"
"I'm sorry Master! I – couldn't do it – "
"Out of all of them, I trusted you – "
"I'm sorry! It's just – it's your sword – "
Saber sighed.
"I trusted you then, and I trust you now. But you have to hurry. There isn't much time . . ."
Bedivere looked at her with tears in his eyes.
"My liege – "
"Go . . ."
She listened to the sound of his footsteps fade away, then looked down. The rent in her armor was grievous, and the rent in her chest beneath it was equally incurable. For a moment she looked at the ground, and then at the bark of a nearby tree, feeling of it with her fingers, momentarily distracted by its texture.
"Ugh – have to hurry", she said, touching her hand to her chest.
She could only use one arm.
"I'll have to work quickly", she said, holding her hand up again, looking at the red stains on her fingers. "It isn't chalk, but it will have to do. And there certainly is plenty of it – "
In the dim light of the trees a shadow floated past, the white flicker of a girl, lying on a funeral barge as it floated on its way, back down to Camelot. But there was no time to worry about that now. Ignoring the vision, she focused on the work before her, drawing as fast as she could.
"What the hell is all of this!?"
A red circle was drawn on the bark of the tree, its center divided into quadrants, with strange symbols arranged all around its edge. Kay had no experience in magical matters, but he could certainly recognize its chief ingredient. He'd seen plenty of blood. On the ground another circle was drawn, only half finished, curving away from her, using her body for its other edge.
"Merlin – " he said between gritted teeth. "That bastard wizard – this is his doing. Her Lordship never dabbled in any such damned nonsense until HE came along – "
"What do you think she was trying to do? A ritual of some sort – healing magic perhaps?"
"No – this looks like something else – it's almost as if – she was trying to summon something . . ."
"My Liege! I – " Bedivere called, his voice full of hope and enthusiasm.
"I – "
It fell when he saw the grey color of her skin.
"I did as you asked – I threw the sword in the water – "
He went on, uncertain of what else to do. Merlin and Kay were both with her. Evidently whatever grudge Kay bore him had been forgiven, or at least momentarily forgotten, as he had not killed the wizard, and was heeding his instructions.
"Hurry – she's so cold – "
"I threw the sword into the water, and – and you won't believe what happened. An arm reached out – a Lady's arm, clothed in white – "
Saber tilted her eyes. Already they had grown glassy.
"Into the boat – " Merlin said, as Kay helped him to the water's edge, where Morgana was waiting.
Saber looked at Bedivere, and with what little strength she had left, she nodded.
"Careful!"
"I don't think she can feel anything – "
All around her the water was black. She could hear the motion of the oars, dipping beneath the surface. The figure that was with her took on shape. She could not see it – it was standing behind her. But somehow she knew exactly how it looked.
She recognized the cut of the black dress, with its puffed sleeves and billowing skirt, the bodice that barely closed over her breast, while on the back of her head, a bundle of pale golden hair, wound up in a ball, wrapped in a braid, and tied off with a black ribbon, its familiar edges hanging down, accustomed to the touch of her fingertips.
"It's – me – "
Suddenly a voice cut through the darkness.
"Saber! The Grail – "
"Kiritsugu?"
Before her the cup appeared, shining and golden.
"The Grail – you have to destroy it!"
No – how dare he? When her prize was so close –
"Do it now! I order you!"
At his words she could feel the activation of the Command Seal. It spread through her body, its warmth becoming her will. Involuntarily she lifted her sword.
"No!"
The sound of the roar was deafening, the golden light blinding.
"How dare he order me, like some kind of peasant!?"
She was still angry even now. As King, she was used to giving orders. And having them obeyed. Unquestioningly. The thought that he – that someone like him, without principles or honor, would dare to give HER a command – the idea was infuriating. It went against the very principles of the universe. Such a thing could not be. It would not do.
"No one gives me orders", she thought, gritting her teeth.
Unless,
Of course,
It was –
"Him . . ."
The boy looked so foolish on the ground, smiling before her. The question was ridiculous, but so were the circumstances. The answer obvious, but still, she had to ask it.
"You who would summon me – I'll ask again – are you my Master?"
The look of the night sky was exhilarating, as well as the sound and the feel of the wind as she ran against it. There was a certain excitement to it all, disobeying him like this. After all, it was for his own good. And no one could disagree that the boy made a hopeless and pitiful Master.
The sound of her sword rang, clashing as she ran up the temple steps. Good. This was what she had come to do.
"Saber – "
The sound when the katana and the great sword met rang out, extoling her purpose in the world, brief and fleeting though it was.
"Saber!"
He had seen her. Come to get her? Just the thought made her happy somehow. But now that he was here, what would he do? Would he yell at her? Scold her for disobeying him? Would he – punish her somehow?"
"It's okay – " the figure in the blackness said to her.
"SABER!"
Shiro's voice was desperate. Seeing no other way, he leapt out, in front of the path of Berserker's onrushing sword.
"You fool!"
She shouted. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
"I couldn't – " he said, looking up at her with tears in his eyes, even as he swam in a lake of his own blood. "I just couldn't – bear the thought of something happening to you – "
No matter how many lives she lived, or how many times she was summoned, she would never forget the sensation of him pushing her – out of harm's way, shielding her with his own body, even though it meant the path of the sword intersected his own.
The figure in the darkness was closer now – right behind her. She could feel it lay its hand on her shoulder.
"No!"
Desperately she clung to her sword, remembering the sensation of Shiro's hands as they'd held onto it together.
"Don't – "
"It's alright – "
"It's too much – "
"I don't care!"
The boy's projection magic really was amazing – it actually looked and felt just like her old sword Caliburn. And it had Caliburn's powers too. Even if it was only for an instant.
And then -
"CALIBURN!"
Just like that, the war was over. And the dream was over with it. Things had gone on, just like they always had, until now.
"Until she – "
A scene of Illya kissing Shiro in the darkness.
"Until SHE restarted it all – "
"MASTER!" she had called, crashing through the workshop's stone wall.
The clang of swords, and the acrid smoke of gunfire as she'd fought with Kiritsugu.
"Master, you're hurt –"
Her words when she saw the marks upon him.
"Hnngh – "
Her own grimacing face as she'd sat waiting for hours – how many hours had it been? How many nights like this? The wafted scent of spices tickled her nose.
And then – the soft wet warmth of the Grail.
Surprisingly it didn't hurt, being thrown in. There was a sense of movement, and then collision, as she'd met with the water's surface that made up the Grail's contents, bubbling all around her, and then sinking, sinking – into the darkness.
The black figure opened her arms to welcome her home.
"It's okay – " it whispered again.
A rush of speed. And the roar of an engine. Something she had not felt for many years. The night sky, and the sound of the wind as she rode beneath it. The leather jacket felt heavy, like armor. And Shiro's arms were so nice, wrapped around her waist, gripping her tightly.
The field was bright and sunny. Not altogether unlike that day, when she'd pulled the sword out of the rock. Only this time -
She looked down at him, sprawled beneath her, as she became the sky above, her blonde hair his golden sunrise.
"I really ought to take it down", she thought. "But it would be so much trouble to put it up again – "
She leaned close. By now their faces were nearly touching, and she almost touched him with her –
"No!"
Archer's arrow – such a rude interruption. The clang of swords again, and the sound of gunfire as Kiritsugu fired on her from across the roof. Shiro's arms wrapped around her, the green lines of his tracing spreading out throughout her entire body. And then – blackness. Blackness and then light.
"And now we're back here. Again."
"It's alright," the black figure said soothingly, reaching to take the sword from between her fingers. "I'll take it from here –"
By now the black ichor was spilling out of the cup. It poured down from the moon like a waterfall, uniting heaven and earth in its damnation. In the darkness shapes could be seen, strange and slithering. They flowed along the ground, writhing, rising up like a pillar, set with a thousand eyes. One particular shadow took on a very distinctive shape. A human shape –
In the darkness, a pair of emerald green eyes opened.
"Got you – "
Her fingers gripped the hilt of her sword.
"I have you now!"
The first thing that Shiro knew was the sound. It came in a series of pulses, like waves. At the first pulse, there was a loud "thump!"
Assassin screamed, feeling his fingers bend backwards.
Before he could retreat or withdraw, an armored hand reached out of the darkness.
Another pulse, and another thump – and with it a sickly cracking, as the devastation forced its way between the bones, splitting them like a wedge as it worked its way up his arm.
"H – Y – A – A – A – A – H – H – H – H ! ! ! !"
A pair of green eyes opened, starting at his skeletal features – not sickly or yellow as they had been before, but piercing and clear.
Recoiling, he fought to get away, but the armored hand held him fast.
"Let me show you why the old Breton Kings bore the title of Lion Heart – "
With that she pulled him close. It wasn't so much a light that shone in the darkness, more a light that devoured darkness – a light that would not abide darkness, and darkness could not abide it.
From Shiro's point of view, he saw a gold line split the clouds. It divided heaven and earth – a sudden juxtaposition of their swirling, irregular edges against its own impossible precision.
From the midst of the clouds he heard a still, small voice.
"Ex – "
At once the clouds began to churn, then drew down and disappeared, consumed by the whirlwind that formed around her sword, as the golden light consumed the darkness, momentarily drawing day out of night.
" CAL – "
The voice was louder now. Assassin tottered backwards, away from her. His arm that carried the cursed Zanbaniya was mostly missing now, leaving only a protruding stump. Staggering he fell, almost to his knees, but at the last moment he caught himself, steadying his body with his hand so that in spite of his weakness, his knee did not actually touch the ground, so that it could not be said that he had actually bowed to her.
Seeing this gesture of defiance, Saber arched an eyebrow, then nodded appreciatively.
Lifting the sword overhead, the whirlwind became a tornado. Shiro was forced to cling to Illya to keep both of them from being blown away like dry leaves as the winds became a pillar that reached unto heaven, getting caught up in the clouds, as though it meant to rival the strange state of the moon as it swam in the sky above them.
And then the golden blade descended.
" – I – B – U – R – R – R – R ! ! ! !"
As the blast travelled along the ground, an accompanying column rose in the sky, a pillar of fire that reached into space, then spread out a pair of arms, unfolding like wings, to match the shape of the hilt of her sword.
Whether the sign was a symbol of the weapon itself, giving shape to its attack, or signified a crossroads – the intersection of heaven and earth, or perhaps had some other meaning, Shiro could not say.
The shockwave struck Assassin full force. As Shiro looked, he could see the black figure fading away in the streak of light. All detail was lost – the shape of his clothes, his weapons – only the outline remained, and with it other shapes, some young, some old, some male, some female, the long line of all the Hassans who had ever bore the title of Old Man of the Mountain – a whole host of them, come to see him off, even as they welcomed him into their number.
The blast faded, and Shiro thought that surely there must be nothing left, but as he looked, he could see not just the outline, but the entire black form of Assassin, tangible and whole, standing there, as if nothing had happened. Was it some sort of trick?
"No way –"
But as he watched, the black figure began to unravel, its bandages loosening, unwinding in the wind, stretching out to nothingness, for as they reached some measured distance from his body, they began to disappear, fading away into the darkness like soot, or ashes carried before he wind.
The same thing was happening throughout his entire body, his arms, his legs, even stretching up along his neck. Everywhere except the mask. Even as he faded, the mask remained whole. With dissolving hands, he reached up towards it, taking hold of it by either side.
"Nothing is forbidden – ", he said gravely, as he began to undo its straps. "In the end, all is permitted."
And then his voice took on a sudden change.
"Eh – heh – heh – ah yes! Now I remember! My True Name, it was – "
And then the dark figure dissolved away into the light, leaving only the mask floating where it was, even though the face had disappeared behind it. For a moment it remained suspended. Then it fell to the ground with a clang, landing face up, still revealing no secret of what had been behind it.
Zouken tapped his cane vigorously. Walking over, he stooped down, reaching out an aging yellow finger. As he reached to take hold of it, the mask too began to dissolve, only instead of more ashes and soot, it took on a kind of effervescence, rising up in a dust of golden light. And then, with a glimmer, it too was gone.
"Hmmm . . ."
For a moment Zouken regarded the space where it had been, smiling thoughtfully. And then he stood up.
"Hmm – hmm", he grumbled, turning his back towards them, digging the tip of his cane into the ground.
"Emiya – I'll concede that this round goes to you – "
Shiro looked at him, then at Illya, as though he had suddenly forgotten the use of his own name.
"Look well to the Einzbern girl. Make sure she is healthy and strong. I expect I'll be seeing you again – in another fifty years or so . . ."
And with that there was the rush of a mighty wind, and be became the fluttering of a thousand tiny wings, beating as they disappeared upon it. With that, he was gone.