"… How sure are you about this?"

Irisviel winced. As someone who had spent her entire life with him, she knew the man called Emiya Kiritsugu better than anyone else. Even if her understanding of him was superficial, she was still capable of telling what was on his mind. And right then, it meant knowing just how much he was hurting when he had said those words.

"We… have nothing concrete," Iri replied, every word like bile forcing its way through her throat. "It's almost entirely one big hypothesis at this point. Tohsaka-san and Edelfelt-san don't know enough to make that connection just yet, but… I don't think there can be another explanation…"

"I see," Kiritsugu said. His tone was the same as it always was, but his trembling fists gave him away. "Is there… really no other way?"

There was genuine hope in his voice, but it was being smothered by an even stronger tone of resignation. Nonetheless, it did not stop the Magus Killer from asking that question.

"I… don't know," Iri replied. It was an answer she hated to give, but it was the only answer she had. "It'd be great if there was, but…"

She trailed off, leaving the rest of her sentence unsaid. She knew that he understood regardless, but she also knew he would do all he could to deny it.

The plan had its risks. Terrible risks that no sane person would take. Risks that the Magus Killer would never allow to be a part of his plan. But those were risks they had to take in order to save their daughter.

They did not have the time to talk about it. They did not have the luxury of sitting around coming up with other plans. They were completely powerless, unable to change their situation in the least, despite being the people who had ended a millennia-long dream.

"Don't worry, Kiritsugu," Iri said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be fine. I'll make sure to bring Illya back safe and sound."

"… It's my fault," Kiritsugu muttered. "If I hadn't abandoned the Holy Grail War back then… If I had won, I would have…"

The space around them froze at those words, bringing with it an eerily familiar chill that Iri had only ever felt within the walls of the Einzbern castle. Kiritsugu's words, as well as the vulnerability reflected in his eyes, made the dreadful image return to her mind's eye.

The raging snowstorm beyond the window, the pristine white walls sealing her fate, the crushing pain tearing at her chest. Those were the things she had hoped to forget, but Irisviel could not rid that wretched memory no matter how hard she tried. It was an excruciating moment for her, so it went without saying that Kiritsugu must have hurt much more. That was the day the Holy Grail War finally ended, and the day the Magus Killer threw away his dream of world salvation.

That was the day the hero of justice threw away everything that defined him, just for the happiness of his wife and child. That was the day he had turned a deaf ear to all the screams reverberating across the world, ignoring their pleas for help only to hear the cries of his child. It was a decision made not by a magus, nor by a hero – it was a decision made by a mere man. A man who was now lamenting the choice he had made back then.

"That's not true, Kiritsugu," Iri said firmly. "You chose us and chose to give us happiness. I'm grateful for that, and it's thanks to your choice that Illya was able to live like a normal child. There's nothing wrong with what you chose to protect, so you don't have to blame yourself."

She did not truly understand this man. No matter how hard she tried, she could never hope to fully understand the man known as Emiya Kiritsugu. She was simply made that way.

"I…" Kiritsugu whispered, his voice shaky. This man had once taken the lives of countless dangerous magi, but the current look on his face reflected none of that ruthlessness. He was, in that moment, nothing more than a normal person. A normal father who had given up on his lifelong dream for the sake of his family. "I don't want… to lose your or Illya. I won't."

Even so, she loved this man. This was the person who had opened up his heart to her – a vessel that by no definition could be considered 'human'. This was the man who had, in the face of six billion other people, chosen to protect two. This man, abandoning the possibility of world salvation, had chosen her. There was no way she could grasp the logic behind that choice, and the only conclusion Irisviel could draw from it was:

To him, her life and her daughter's weighed more than the entire world.

"I know," she said. "That's why I have to go, Kiritsugu. I'll be back right away, so don't worry."

That was why, for the sake of the family they cherished, she could not let anything get in her way. Even if it meant confronting another Holy Grail, she would protect the world Emiya Kiritsugu chose to protect.

"I promise, I'll bring our daughter back safe and sound."

Tohsaka Rin placed a gem on the ground, and paused.

She was hesitating, but it was not because she was afraid of wasting her gems. They had decided to go through with the plan, so there was no backing out at this point.

"I don't even have to ask to know what's on your mind."

"… Luvia," Rin said, turning to face her employer as well as rival. "What do you make of this situation?"

"Well," Luvia sighed. "I never really thought about it at first, but now when I stop and consider it… it's all just too absurd. Even so, we have no choice but to just accept it, right?"

"I guess," Rin replied reluctantly. "Let's just hope Irisviel-san's right about this… though I guess it'll be better if she's wrong…"

Luvia said nothing, but Rin knew she agreed. As much as they wanted to rescue Illya and the rest, they also wished that the girl's mother was wrong about this situation.

According to their hypothesis, the Mirror World was a plane connecting parallel worlds. The Class Cards, which belonged to a Holy Grail War of another world, were simply things that had ended up there somehow. And within that space, another world's Holy Grail had managed to 'taint' them, causing them to become the corrupted Heroic Spirits Illya and gang battled in their attempts to retrieve the cards.

"Of course, it could all be done by the same Grail that summoned those Cards," Irisviel had said. "But if that was the case, the cards wouldn't just go back to normal once the Servants were defeated. The presence of an eighth Class also makes it likely that another Holy Grail itself is involved. And with regards to that eighth card… you mentioned it absorbed so much mana that it caused disruptions to occur all over Fuyuki? Something like that shouldn't be possible no matter how powerful the Servant, since they're bound by their container and more importantly, by this Mirror World which they manifest in.

"However, if we assume that these disruptions were caused by a corrupt Holy Grail," she paused, a haunted look in her usually gentle eyes. "Then it's likely that the Grail itself pulled Illya and the others over when they… Jumped. Illya… is the vessel of the Holy Grail. If the Grail is trying to complete itself, then it needs a medium. I don't know what happened to the vessel of that parallel world, but if the Grail is trying to manifest itself or… give birth to whatever corruption's inside it... without absorbing the Servants, then it could have tried to use Illya and Kuro to make up for it. In any case, it's definitely no coincidence that Illya was the only one who disappeared back then, even with Tohsaka-san next to her."

"But what about Miyu and Bazett?" Rin had asked.

"I can't say for sure," had been Iri's reply. "They might be connected to the Holy Grail somehow, be it in this world or in the other parallel world. But if that's the case, there is a way for us to get them back."

Rin stared at the elaborate Magic Circle beneath her feet. With her and Luvia's combined efforts, they had managed to read enough gems to substitute for over ten mages' worth of prana. All that was left was to activate the spell – which they had set up at the same place the Eighth Card used to be – and allow Irisviel to Jump over to the Mirror World.

"I'm also a vessel for the Holy Grail," she had announced. "Strictly speaking, I should take precedence over Illya as the conduit. If the source of the distortion pulled Illya over, it should take me as well. As for coming back here…"

That was when the plan took a turn for the worse. If what she had said before was not absurd enough, the words that had come out of Irisviel's mouth after that certainly were.

Activate the ritual for the Holy Grail at the heart of Mount Enzo.

Even if they did not know why, Rin and Luvia knew that the Einzberns had gone quiet for the past ten years. However, despite the research she had done, Rin had been unable to find a link between the Einzberns and the Holy Grail War.

The Einzberns are no more, so there won't be another Holy Grail War.

And now, the only person who knew anything about the situation was telling them to do something nigh impossible.

That means Illya and I are the only remaining vessels. Once the ritual is activated, the Holy Grail on this side will pull us over just like the other one had. Once we Jump from that side, we should come back here.

It was a plan only madmen would agree to. And yet, here they were, acting upon those absurd demands. As much as Rin knew that they were in position to be picky about their methods. Skilled magi or not, she and Luvia were simply unable to deal with the situation alone.

"… Hey, Luvia," Rin muttered. "If… I hadn't dragged Illya into this in the beginning, do you think she'd be… just living a normal life right now, without all this danger?"

"What are you saying, Tohsaka Rin?" Luvia asked. "This was a choice you made and stuck to because you believed in Illyasviel, was it not? You chose to believe in her, but now you regret the results of that faith?"

"… Faith, huh…"

"Believe in them," Luvia said. "Believe that you made the right choice, and in their strength. After all, having second thoughts about her actions isn't the way for the proud Tohsaka Rin, is it?"

"… For once, you're right," Rin replied, managing a small smile. "I see coming to Japan has made you wiser."

Just hold on a little longer, everyone, she prayed inside her head. We're going to get you home soon.

Illya walked silently, following after the cheerful gait that belonged to Fujimura Taiga. Right next to her were Miyu and Kuro, equally silent and (for some reason) brooding.

"What's wrong, gals?" Taiga asked. "Why the long faces?"

"It's nothing," Miyu replied, her voice softer than usual. "We've just been out of touch with Ki- with Uncle for so long, and… W-we're just not adequately prepared, mentally…"

"I see," Taiga said, her tone surprisingly gentle. At that moment, it was almost difficult to believe that this person was the same hyperactive, childish teacher who had taught Illya in school. "It's only natural, I suppose… Maybe that's why Shirou doesn't come here often either…"

"Eh?" Illya squeaked. "Shir- O-onii-chan doesn't come here often?"

"Yup," Taiga replied. "After Kiritsugu-san left us, Shirou… changed. Maybe he just didn't want to admit that Kiritsugu-san was gone… He really looked up to him, after all."

Looked up to him. The Emiya Shirou of this world – the splitting image of her brother – had idolized Emiya Kiritsugu. The boy with those terror-stricken eyes had once extolled his father. Even though he acted like the same onii-chan she loved, Illya had not thought of him as someone capable of those emotions; ever since she saw that haunted look in his eyes at Kotomine's church, she knew that this Emiya Shirou was worlds apart from the one she loved. He carried a weight too great for his shoulders, and above all else just felt… broken beyond repair.

But even a person like him had someone he admired. Someone he looked up to. Someone who had – according to his daughter in this world – tossed aside the family he supposedly loved.

"Well, here we are."

Even though she had expected it, Illya still found her chest constricting at the sight of her 'father'. Despite it being nothing but a tombstone with his name carved on it, she could not keep her eyes from burning up, nor her vision from going blurry.

"It's been a while, Kiritsugu-san," Taiga greeted. "Today, I brought along a couple of guests to see you. I bet you're surprised…"

No one moved. For Illya and Kuro, there were countless things they had to say, but neither of them found the words to convey their feelings. Strangely enough, Miyu seemed uncomfortable as well, despite having nothing to do with the current situation (she was, after all, merely pretending to be Kiritsugu's niece). Likely in response to the awkward atmosphere, Taiga stood up and walked away from the group.

"I'll be right there," she said, her voice missing its usual vigor. "So don't worry and take as much time as you need."

Despite hearing every single word, none of the girls could so much as offer her a reply.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise."

In response to the swordsman's cocky grin, Lancer simply scowled.

"This is quite the boundary field," he commented, opting not to walk up the steps. "The Master who's using this place is quite the cautious guy."

"While I agree with that assessment, I must point out it's not entirely correct," Assassin replied. Lancer did not have his weapon out, so he did not unsheathe his sword either, but he was still standing instead of sitting on the steps. "This temple has had this barrier long before this War even started. The Master you speak of merely added to those defenses, that's all."

"Including multiple Servants and kidnapping other Masters?" Lancer asked.

"… Why have you come here?" Assassin fired back. The power from Caster's Command Spell could still clearly be felt, making it difficult for him to act freely. It took much effort just to keep from drawing his sword. "If you know there is more than one Servant here, then surely you are not here to fight?"

"There's an idea," Lancer chuckled. "But I'll abstain today. My… acquaintance has business nearby, and I've no intention of causing her trouble."

"What about your lord?" Assassin asked. "It's difficult for me to believe that you'd be allowed to roam free, given your nature as a Servant."

"Well, let's just say my situation is a bit unusual," Lancer shrugged. "My current Master seems to dislike being called that, you see."

"Is that right," Assassin mused. The thought was certainly amusing, but he did not have the luxury of sitting down to discuss it. "Either way, I suggest you leave this place. The longer you stay here, the more unlikely it'll be for you to return in one piece."

"If I feared death, I wouldn't be a Heroic Spirit in the first place," Lancer scoffed. "Well, I've no intention of fighting with you right now, but I have a question for you."

"Even while you're being watched by multiple enemies in front of their base?" Assassin asked, the corner of his lips curling to form a smirk. There was no telling when Caster's patience would wear out, and it would certainly not be pretty once it did. "Such foolishness can hardly be called 'courage', you know."

"What're you fighting for?" Lancer asked, completely disregarding the jab from Assassin.

The question, though simple, wiped the smirk from Assassin's face. Staring down at the defenseless man with an expressionless mask, he held his tongue; he had an answer to that question, of course, but he could not figure out what the red-eyed man was getting at.

"It can't be helped if your Master sided with the Master of that temple," Lancer said. "However, are you alright with that? As a Heroic Spirit, are you fine with your lord resorting to such underhanded tricks? I just wanted to confirm that."

Assassin continued to stay silent as he considered those words. It was clear that this Servant, whoever he was, did not know the full story. Assassin himself had no idea what lies that vixen had fed them, but he knew enough about the situation to know that this Servant had no idea about Caster's involvement. How much he actually knew, or how much he suspected, was unclear.

"I have no reason for which to fight," he answered. "I'm but a puppet called upon to do another's bidding. I'm no different from a tool or weapon – I have no will nor reason to do what I do; that's up to the one who wields the tool to decide."

"… Just because you're a Servant?" Lancer growled.

"Yes, I suppose that's true," Assassin smiled, but there was no mirth in that expression. "Your interpretation isn't wrong."

"You… have no pride as a Heroic Spirit?" Lancer snarled.

"Unfortunately, that's something I'm not allowed to have," Assassin replied, forcing out a chuckle. "Those who hide in the shadows of others aren't permitted to have a luxury like that."

He did not expect Lancer to understand the meaning behind those words. He had not expected to be pitied, understood or even forgiven for his words. But those were the words that had escaped his lips, lamenting the fate he thought he had accepted long ago.

"… I see," Lancer said, all traces of levity completely evaporating from his voice. "Are you alright with that?"

"Are you offering me a choice?"

"Why do you need one?" Lancer retorted. "If you're a Servant – a Heroic Spirit of any sort – change your fate with your own power. If you depend on other people, you'll never leave behind anything noteworthy."

"Is that what it means to be a Hero?" Assassin asked.

"That's what it means to live," Lancer replied, disappearing into his astral form.

Assassin stared at the spot where the spearman disappeared, his lips parted without being able to offer a response. Even though he had not taken Lancer seriously at first, he could not help but think about the words the enemy Servant had said.

Assassin was, ultimately, not a true hero. He was definitely not a figure like Lancer, nor could he even compare himself with the likes of Caster and Rider. To leave behind a legacy or something like that was unthinkable for him, and he did not hope to be capable of such a feat.

He sought but one goal – to 'live'. In order to attain that selfish desire, he had to 'die'. That was all.

That's what it means to live.

He sought not triumph, but a loss that granted meaning to his existence. For him, wanting anything else was a luxury he could not afford. And yet, despite having resigned himself to that, the swordsman entertained those words.

He recalled the terrified face of that weak, helpless boy. Faced with a battle beyond him, he continued to struggle, all while being manipulated without hope of victory or escape. He was merely a child who had nothing to do with all this, but had ended up in the middle of it all.

If he could wish to leave something behind, Assassin wondered if he would have wanted the boy to live.

He was a tool, but even then there were lives he did not wish to see lost. He was just a commonplace man, so it was only natural for him to value the lives of those around him. While this miracle of 'being here' lasted, he would embrace the thoughts he was not meant to entertain. Even if they were the thoughts on the scale of a mere man and not a hero.

"Dear me," he said, his words lost in a passing breeze. "True heroes really are dazzling after all."

Upon the empty steps that lead to Ryuudou Temple, Sasaki Kojirou sheathed his sword.

"Illya. Are you sure about this?"

"Mm," the part-time Magical Girl nodded. There was no strength in her tone, but there was something in her eyes that made Kuro not question her any further. "What about you, Kuro? You were injured, weren't you?"

"I was, but Miyu… helped me out with that," Kuro said, looking rather shy.

"T-that was… um…" Miyu mumbled, refusing to meet Illya's eyes.

"… Why does that sound so suggestive…?" Illya questioned. She would likely have pressed the issue, if not for the man walking right next to her. "What about you, onii-chan? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll manage," Shirou assured her, but he was wincing.

Illya opened her mouth to protest, only to keep quiet as she exchanged glances with Lancer. As the past few days had proven, Shirou was definitely not going to back down, especially when three elementary schoolgirls were going to be joining the fray (and, if she was perfectly honest, she doubted he would stay behind even if they chose not to fight).

"Just so we're clear, kid," Lancer said, twirling his bright crimson lance in one hand as the group climbed the stairs leading to Ryuudou temple. Even though Caster had gone ahead moments ago, he was still looking around, as though he was expecting enemy ambushes at any moment. "If you're in trouble, use that Command Seal of yours. I'll be there in a flash, got it?"

"Yes," Illya replied, giving him a slow nod. "Thank you, Lancer-san."

There was something odd about her gesture, but Lancer did not question it. Ever since they returned the day before after the visit to her father's grave, the look in her eyes had simply… changed. He did not question what had happened during that visit (partially because he was pretty peeved himself), nor did he ask why she had locked herself in her room with that Mystic Code Ruby after that, but he knew.

He knew at that moment that she would not back down anymore – not from the battle, not from anything; even if she still had a same timid vibe of a kid, she now had something else as well. It was not exactly a display of strength, but there was a conviction he had not seen before.

"Come on, Saber," Shirou tried for the umpteenth time. "It'll be alright. Don't sulk."

"I'm not sulking," Saber denied, her authoritative voice making her words a little more powerful but otherwise still unconvincing. "I have faith in Miyu's abilities to engage the enemy."

"But not in mine…?" Shirou muttered.

"Yo," Lancer greeted suddenly, causing the rest of the group to stop in their ascent. "I see you're still hanging around this place."

"Like I said, I'm but a mere tool," Assassin replied, holding his sword loftily by his side. "I have nowhere else to be besides in front of this gate."

"That's a shame," Lancer said. "Saber. You sure about this?"

"Yes," the blond swordswoman replied, tightening the grip on her invisible sword. "As the Heroic Spirit of the Sword, I cannot allow myself to back down from another swordsman. Leave this to me, Lancer."

"If you say so," Lancer said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. Even if he did not trust Caster, who had suggested this matchup, he was not going to get in the way of the King of Britain.

"Be careful, Saber-san," Illya encouraged, despite being one of the weaker combatants in the group.

"Worry not, Illya," Saber replied. "I swear on my sword that I shall emerge victorious."

"As much as I enjoy seeing such a touching display," Assassin interjected. "I am duty bound to guard this gate, so I'm afraid none of you are allowed past this point-"

Wind screeched, and in an instant the blond swordswoman became a gust of blue, tearing through the air between them with the force of a hurricane. Responding almost entirely with instinct, Assassin lowered his stance and swung his blade in an upwards crescent, attempting to catch the invisible weapon in her hands.

Faint moonlight illuminated his blade, carving a silver trail across the night. It lasted but a single moment, before bright vermillion sparks erupted from the sword's edge instead. Violent tremors shook his arm as Assassin tightened the grip on his weapon, pushing back against Saber's sword of wind.

"Impressive strength," he remarked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Alright, let's go," Lancer said, crossing the remaining steps in one powerful leap and rushing towards the gates of Ryuudou Temple. Assassin made no attempt to stop him, nor did he even attempt any eye contact as the spearman passed; it was almost as if their conversation the day before had not happened at all.

Without questioning his command, the rest of the team followed suit; Kuro leapt across the steps, while Illya and Miyu carried Shirou and flew. Doubt was clearly written on their faces, but no one said anything; just like how the three of them had been adamant about coming along, Saber was surprisingly stubborn about whatever she decided to do. She had made it very clear she did not require assistance, so it was no use saying anything more at this point.

"You let them pass rather easily," Saber noted, still attempting to push back Assassin's sword. "Was it not your duty to guard this gate?"

"It cannot be helped if I'm too busy engaging another enemy," Assassin reasoned, his tone playful. If anything, he sounded rather pleased that everyone else had passed him. "I will still go after them after slaying you, however."

"No, you will not," Saber declared. "You will fall here, swordsman."

A metallic screech resounded, and Saber leapt away, landing a short flight of stairs below. Maintaining his advantageous position, Assassin rested his sword on his shoulder, regarding the noble swordswoman with what appeared to be confidence.

"It's 'Assassin'," he corrected. "Servant Assassin, Sasaki Kojirou. For a battle like this, it would be most inconvenient to not know the name of your foe, would it not?"

"… Indeed," Saber replied, unable to hide her surprise. "Since you have revealed your name, I shall also-"

"There's no need," Assassin cut across her. "I have no need to know of your name. All I need to know… I will learn by crossing swords with you. That is all."

"Regardless, you have offered me your name," Saber retorted. "As the pride of a Heroic Spirit demands, I too will reveal mine."

"… 'Pride', huh…" Assassin muttered. "You truly are the same as that man, living your life with something like that as your motivation. How admirable."

"I am Arturia Pendragon, King of Britain," Saber announced. "Now that we no longer need to conceal our identities, let us battle honorably, Sasaki Kojirou."

With that, Saber once more leapt towards Assassin, her invisible blade clutched in a tight two-hand grip. Without backing down against the force of her charge, Assassin stepped forward, bringing down his sword towards the swordswoman's head.

A wall of wind greeted his blade with a shrill metallic noise, as the formless weapon in Saber's hands shielded her from his attack. Her feet planted firmly on the stone steps, Saber forcefully pushed away Assassin's sword, likely in the hopes of causing him to lose balance.

I have the advantage in speed and power, she assessed in her mind. I can just-

The glint of a blade's edge in the moonlight in the corner of her eye made her change her approach instantly, letting go of her two-handed grip and raising her right gauntlet to block Assassin's swing. However, before she could launch a counterattack, the weight of Assassin's sword disappeared, and a different blade cut out from the darkness towards her head.

In a split instant, her body moved by itself. Had she depended on her senses, Saber would have lost her head then and there. Instead, her instincts took over, moving her free right gauntlet to grab the incoming blade. Catching the weapon and forcibly pushing it away, Saber swung the blade in her left towards Assassin's midsection.

A sharp, burning pain pierced her palms, forcing her to release her grip on the blade. Assassin, having pushed the end of the sword's grip forward with an open palm, made the edge dig into Saber's mana-infused gauntlet as he stepped back, parrying her attack with ease.

Returning to a two-handed grip, Assassin swung his sword in an upwards crescent, sending Saber's sword towards the sky and disrupting her balance on the steps. Saber, having anticipated the move, let out a powerful command:

"Howl, Invisible Air!"

The wind coiling around her blade roared to life, revealing for an instant a magnificent golden shine. Soaring towards the night sky above like a raging hurricane, the wind barrier around the King of Knights' sword brought the legendary weapon down on Assassin once more. Even if she could not exert enough force to counter Assassin's attack just then, the sheer force of Invisible Air was more than enough-

But her sword did not crash Assassin's into the ground. Almost as if by some sort of sorcery, Assassin had managed to make his sword – which moved as if alive – slide out of the path of Saber's counter and towards her neck. Reacting just in the nick of time, Saber kicked away from the steps, retreating and putting distance between them.

"Impressive," Assassin said, his tone light as though he was discussing the weather. "I should have taken your head at least twice now, and yet it stays attached to your head. It would seem western swordplay is more than just mere flailing."

How is this possible? Saber wondered as she readjusted her stance. I'm supposed to be stronger and faster than him, so why is it that I cannot overwhelm him?

"You seem to be in a rush," Assassin commented. "Perhaps out of concern for the wellbeing of your master?"

"My apologies," Saber said. "But I cannot waste any time battling you. Under normal circumstances, I would have liked to enjoy crossing swords with a swordsman of your-"

"It matters not," Assassin assured her. He had felt something in their brief exchange – something that made him forget about all the troubles clouding his mind. "But unfortunately for you, I have all the time in the world. Rather, right now I'm wishing this moment doesn't end, Saber."

For the first time since his summoning, the Servant Assassin's head was clear.

"Let me ask you, Saber," he went on, seeing Saber's confused expression. "What does it mean to 'live' to you? What does it mean to have an existence to call your own? If one's life cannot end, can they truly be said to have 'lived'? I've always thought that the moment you die, that becomes inviolable proof that you were once alive."

In the few seconds he had taken and countered her attacks, Assassin had not entertained another thought. For someone who initially sought nothing but 'death', that fleeting moment was something he did not appreciate at first. However, the more his sword met her holy blade, the more he felt like this was what he was fighting for.

"I'm but a wandering spirit devoid of a name and an existence," he said. "I faded away from the face of the earth, no more significant than a powerless leaf at the mercy of a whimsical gale. I didn't 'die', and as such I cannot be said to have 'lived'. However, if I can give it my all in this battle, maybe my being here would have some meaning. Perhaps, if I was to meet my end here by your sword, this empty shell might find some meaning in existing after all."

He lifted his sword. Upon the temple steps, illuminated by the faint glow of the moon, the nameless samurai looked into the eyes of the knight who may very well be his last opponent.

He had sought merely one thing – to have a life to call his own. He was not worthy of being called a hero, nor worthy of wanting to save another person. He believed that when only when he drew his last breath, could he be said to have 'lived'.

Yet, in this fleeting moment, he found a part of himself that wished this moment would exist forever. That this clashing of swords under an endless sky would never cease its mellow tune.

That this pathetic existence of his would continue for even a second longer, just to cross blows with the woman before him. Such was the world the blond knight had shown him.

I thank you, Saber.

Indeed, he may not have felt alive before now. Indeed, he may not have a life nor a name to call his own. But right now, in this fleeting battle – this ephemeral instant – he was alive.

"Now," he said, a brilliant smile blossoming across his face. "Allow me to enjoy this life to my final breath, Saber!"

Mother. Of. Rewrites. This chapter took so much time and effort that my notebook ran out of pages and I had to get a new one. About two pens died in the making of this chapter, too.

Don't worry about not seeing more of Illya and gang after the graveyard scene; I'm writing that as an extra chapter. If I included it in this chapter I figured it would've been too long. Look forward to that!

P.S. To clarify, I haven't played the visual novel (yet), so I'm largely an anime-only guy. I did do some research for this story, but I'm otherwise clueless about how Heaven's Feel went down in the original game. Got a couple of questions about it, so I thought I'd clarify, that's all. See you next chapter!