Much apologies for the delay. This chapter wasn't supposed to be this late, but… dammit. On a side note, happy new year!

"W-what is that…?"

Despite uttering those words, Illya could not register the voice that escaped her own lips. There was something in her voice – something not entirely foreign – that shook her entire being. It was a sensation similar to what she felt when she wanted to give up on fighting the Class Cards.

Despite her current form and power, Illya could not deny the fear coursing through every cell in her body.

"That…" her lips quivered, unable to form the words she wanted to form. "That's…"

"That's… a Servant?" Sapphire wondered, sounding equal parts confused and wary.

"It certainly feels like a Class Card," Ruby noted, her tone missing its usual mirth. "But that massive energy… It's not like anything we've ever encountered before…"

"We have to run," Illya said, unable to take her eyes off the black mass rising towards the sky. "We have to run."

And yet, even as she said those words, Illya knew that running would not change anything. There was simply no running from something like that.

Down below Illya, where the battle with Caster had been raging merely moments before, the battered landscape was now utterly silent. Shirou, whose attention had been directed at Kuzuki, could not help but gawk at the distant shadow; even if he could not understand it, he knew it was something beyond what they could handle.

White-hot pain burst across his chest, followed almost immediately after by the sensation of rough rock against his back. The image of the black mass was replaced by the view of the clear, night sky, and all of a sudden that black object did not matter anymore.

Scrambling to his feet, Shirou narrowly avoided Kuzuki's fist as his teacher proceeded to punch a hole through the ground. The pain made his movements sluggish, but there was no time for distractions like that.

"Wait, Kuzuki!" he yelled, wincing at the effort. It took every ounce of willpower just to stand, and yelling on top of that felt like each word would rip his chest apart. "This isn't the time to fight! That black thing-"

"What about it?" Kuzuki fired back, his tone no different from the one he used in class. "My current opponent is you, Emiya. No matter what happens, I will focus on the task at hand."

Just then, Kuzuki leapt backwards and away from Shirou. Just as Shirou brought up his blades in defense, a streak of silver sliced through the space where Kuzuki's neck had been just moments before.

The spinning blade, having missed its target, cleaved its way into the ground, burying its misty white edge into the dirt. There was no doubt as to what the name of that blade was.

The sound of tearing fabric rang through the air, accompanied by a trail of glistening rubies. Under the pale moonlight, the droplets of crimson danced, froze for a brief moment, and ultimately collapsed onto the earth alongside-

"Kuzuki!"

The man's body seemingly reacted to Shirou's words, springing to its feet and narrowly avoiding Kuro's swing. Unfazed by the huge gash on his back, Kuzuki countered with a swift hook, only to stumble as his leg gave way. He had not tripped; another spinning blade had simply hacked away at the side of his calf.

Unrelenting and expressionless, Kuro sprang into action, plunging a pair of swords into Kuzuki's chest. Kuzuki, however, allowed his body to fall forward, causing the blades to end up grazing his shoulders instead.

What's… going on? Shirou wondered, watching Kuro evade Kuzuki's punches and dance around her opponent with speed and grace he had never seen from her before. Is that really… Kuro?

"I am the bone of my sword."

Thin lines of scarlet scattered into the air, and the machine known as Kuzuki finally stopped, falling to its knees. His battered frame was covered in fresh cuts and blood stained his suit, but even then the expression on his face did not change. Kuro, seemingly unscathed, backed away and produced a bow and what appeared to be an arrow out of thin air.

"Wait, Kuro!" Shirou pleaded, but he knew it was too late. He did not know how he knew it, but he understood that Kuro would not stop.

Because in that moment, Kuro was a splitting image of him.

The sound of metal cutting through the night interrupted Shirou's protests. Even as he forced his screaming body to move, Shirou could see their outlines against the dark canvas overhead: the all-too-familiar forms of Kanshou and Bakuya, spiraling towards Kuzuki's crouched figure as Kuro prepared to fire her arrow. But as he raised his head to look at the face of the unforgiving archer…

… all he could see were tears.

Her arms were shaking, but not with the effort of holding her bow. Her cheeks were wet, scarred by two burning clear trails.

"Stop me," she gasped, but it was already too late.

A streak of light tore through the air, roaring towards Kuzuki's face. There was nothing he could do to stop it at that point, and as Shirou's mind struggled to accept that fact-

"Get back."

Pushing him aside and charging in front of Kuzuki was a figure he did not recognize. The person was a stranger and as far as he could tell, was just as wounded as he was. Even so, they were moving at a speed easily exceeding Shirou's at his peak.

A screeching sound shook the air, and the shockwave of Kuro's arrow almost knocked Shirou off his feet. However, even though the force was great, there was no explosion or crater; rather, the arrow had failed to hit its mark entirely.

"That was close," the intruder muttered through pained gasps, throwing away the shards of Kanshou and Bakuya in their free hand. "Luckily, it's a move I've already seen before."

The rune on the back of her hand glowed, and the tip of the arrow in her grip was inches from her nose. Despite that, the look on Bazett Fraga McRemitz's face was determined and confident.

"This isn't like you, Chloe von Einzbern," she said, tossing the imitation of a Noble Phantasm aside. "I didn't figure you for the kind to do something like this."

"Souichirou-sama!"

Teleporting to Kuzuki's side was Caster, draping her Master with her huge purple cloak. Whispering something into her Master's ear, the Servant melted into the shadows, taking her Master along with her.

"Wait-" Bazett began, but a sudden jolt of pain interrupted her sentence. In all likelihood, she was going to try despite her condition to slam Caster's face in, but the strain from catching Kuro's arrow on her already exhausted body was taking its toll.

"W-who're you?" Shirou asked. At this stage, however, he was likely to accept whatever she said regardless of how ridiculous it sounded. Especially after seeing her catch Kuro's arrow with her bare hands.

"That can wait," Bazett replied, turning away from him. "You're Illyasviel's older brother from the beach, are you not? I'll explain later; stopping Chloe comes first."

The beach? Shirou wondered. Ah… she must be one of Illya's friends. Wait; why am I accepting all this so readily?

"Stop…"

The trembling in her voice broke his train of thought. It was a tone that he had heard from Illya, but never from this girl. He found it harder to believe that the girl in front of him was actually Kuro – the strong-willed, confident Kuro who had kicked his ass so many times during their training.

"Stop… Please…" she whispered, but her body struggled against those words. An invisible force was invading every fiber of her being, and from the look in her eyes she was close to losing to it.

"Mental manipulation…?" Bazett assessed. "No, it's too sloppy… Possession?"

"No… no…" Kuro's eyes widened, her body jerked, and then collapsed right to the ground. Like a puppet with its strings crudely snapped, she simply crashed onto the rubble.

"Ku-"

A loud crunching sound erupted behind Kuro, sending up a large cloud of dust and debris. Bazett instantly took up a combat stance, but Shirou recognized the glow of the mysterious comet just before it plummeted into the stone.

"Illya-san, are you okay?!" Ruby's voice cried out as the dust settled, revealing an extremely wounded Illya. "That strike was serious! You shouldn't have tried to block it!"

"I know…" Illya coughed. "B-but… I couldn't… I don't know…"

"Illya! Are you okay?" Shirou said, rushing to her side as Bazett tended to Kuro. "What happened?!"

"That… thing…" Illya panted. It was only then that Shirou realized that she was trembling. Violently. "It just… sent out something. I-I tried to block it, but…"

A trickle of blood ran down her forehead. The hand that gripped her new wand was shaking so badly it was a wonder she could still hold on to it. The last time Shirou had seen her that terrified, she had been crying into his arms. It had been an unspoken responsibility of his to make sure she did not end up like that again, but he knew he had failed.

The girl before him was delicate. Fragile. She was innocent, like how a child her age should be, and that innocence was coming close to being completely shattered. All because of this battle he had been dragged into.

Who could he blame? He had not asked for any of this, but he had decided to fight. He was the Hero of Justice, the supposed 'older brother' of this little girl thrown into a chaos she was not prepared for. He was a Master. A magus. And at this point in time, yet again, he was completely powerless.

And no matter how much he cursed it, he simply could not change that fact.

"As if one faker was not enough."

No one was there to hear his words, but the oldest King spoke in a clear voice as though addressing a subject. His scarlet irises regarded the dark shadow circling the night air with interest, almost as if he was looking at a rare animal.

He had seen the dog belonging to that mongrel Kotomine mentored. Not only was he a sorry excuse of a Heroic Spirit, his very existence was an insult to the concept of heroes. Mongrels he could tolerate; they were everywhere and even the most skilled gardener could not weed them all out. Commoners were less so, but he was magnanimous enough to accept their existence; every culture had their share of the ignorant, and if those ignorant of the might of a true King and hero decided to extol one of their own, it was inevitable that one of them would rise to a status unbefitting of them. If anything, it was only natural; everyone would want to be even a step closer to the King after all.

But fakers were another matter. Ignorance could be forgiven since it was a trait of the mongrels, but to understand that one was a faker and still embrace it was unforgiveable. The vermin guilty of that would be put down by the King personally, not because they deserve such treatment (on the contrary, his treasures would be sullied by such an act), but because it was that grave of an offense.

And that mass of black flying around the air was surely a faker as well. It certainly attempted to give off the aura of a King – of the one and only King of Heroes, in fact – but there was something else about it that he could not quite place. There was something about that black mass that even the King of Heroes could not comprehend, and that was impossible.

He had seen the object it used to attack the mongrel magus with the bright wings (the Einzbern doll that stole Kotomine's dog, as he recalled). It was shot out of nowhere like an arrow, and there was something about that 'arrow' that intrigued him.

It was, without a doubt, a Noble Phantasm. Not only that, it was a Noble Phantasm that could only have belonged to one person, and he was standing right here. There was no doubt as to its authenticity, but that was impossible; that would mean the black mass flying up there was…

"What are you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at the thing whose presence he had been feeling since the start of the Holy Grail War.

And then, without warning, all hell broke loose.

The first clash shook the air and lit up the night like a firework. It was sudden and violent, and just as the spark from the collision began to fade another blossomed across the night sky. The sky above Fuyuki was lit with countless brilliant flowers, each erupting with enough force to blow away Ryuudou Temple.

Seemingly out of nowhere, numerous Noble Phantasms were fired into each other, shattering as they collided with the force of a million armies. The very air was torn asunder in the exchange, and then bathed in the glimmer of countless gold specks.

"Hoh," Gilgamesh smirked. He sounded amused, but there was no trace of mirth in his eyes. "You not only attempt to pass yourself off as a hero, you dare to break my treasures?"

Several golden ripples blossomed around the Golden King, revealing the tips of swords, lances and axes lying in the center of each one. Each weapon was a Noble Phantasm – a treasure worthy of defining a hero's mythos. But for the oldest of Kings, they were nothing more than a part of his boundless collection.

The black mass soaring across the sky responded in kind, producing more shadowy shapes from its body. The shapes, like the 'arrows' at the King's disposal, were of swords, lances and axes. The flying shadow, despite being nothing more than an embodiment of pure rage, had intended to match every weapon in the King's treasury.

"Impressive, mongrel!" the Golden King laughed, his irises mad with anger despite his words. "Your impudence truly knows no bounds! To think you'd fail to realize your folly even now!"

A seemingly infinite number of golden ripples danced across the air, filling the space above Fuyuki with their radiant glow. From the viewpoint of a mere mortal on the ground, it was as if the sun itself had descended upon the earth. Such was the unmatchable might of a King, of the greatest of Heroic Spirits.

Such was the power of the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh.

Against the radiance that drowned out the glow of the moon, the moon itself vanished. The dark shadow overhead let out a single bestial roar, and mere moments later its shadowy weapons blocked out all light from above. In order to match the King's endless armory, it too produced countless Noble Phantasms cloaked in its vile shadow, obscuring the moon with its black canvas.

It was foolish to even think of counting the number of weapons. It was ridiculous to wonder how far the golden ripples and murky shadows stretched. It was inevitable to think of escape upon witnessing such a spectacle, but even that was foolish; in the face of such power, there was simply no escape.

"Holy… Grail…"

The Eighth Class Card seethed, muttering the only words it knew. Those were the only words important to it, for it was this 'Holy Grail' that defined it. It was this very prize alone that mattered. And now, a single obstacle stood in its way. An obstacle covered in gold, and an obstacle it could not fully comprehend. But it mattered not; if it had to obliterate this obstacle, then it would do so, even if it had to bring down heaven itself.

And so it screamed. It let loose a roar without words, without meaning but one: to annihilate anything and everything in its way. And in response to its one command, one simple action occurred.

The sky fell.

Millions of pitch-black swords, enough to swarm the night sky and drown out the moon, flooded down to crush the miserable vermin below with its mighty cascade. With a single command, the shadow had summoned forth a monolithic cloudburst of jet-black malice, roaring with fury and teeming with bloodlust.

In response, the Golden King merely waved a hand.

Countless pillars of blinding gold light shot forth from their dazzling ripples, tearing through the night to meet the incoming cascade of blades. Each individual weapon carried with it the wrath and power of the eldest of Kings, capable of eradicating any target upon contact.

The shadows fell, and the lights rose. It was but a fleeting moment, but in the eyes of all who were present to bear witness to the spectacle, that scene was carved forever into their minds. It lasted merely a moment, and then it happened: the rising golden lights met the rain of shadows.

As the infinite number of weapons collided, their sparks erupted into grand explosions, incinerating the darkness of the night and setting the very skies aflame. All scenery vanished, and blinding light swallowed up the sky. It was the cacophony of true war, of true power, and in the minutes it took for the explosions to die down, the battlefield above Fuyuki was the very image of chaos, each second lasting an eternity and every moment a frame of utter destruction.

In the wake of the exchange of Kings, the heavens bled shards of glimmering silver and gold; like diamond dust wafting through the gaps in the clouds, the remnants of countless broken Noble Phantasms rained down on Fuyuki. It was an almost tranquil moment, after the violent howl of battle unleashed just seconds before.

But the tranquility would not last. With another mighty bellow, the sky overhead began to shake, and in the shadow of the clouds descended a grand shadow that once again eclipsed the moon.

At first glance, it was some sort of building or perhaps a fallen chunk of the sky itself. But as it continued to fall, it became evident that the giant mass was a sword – a sword that could level an entire landscape with a single swing.

It was a Noble Phantasm befitting its name: Ig-Alima, the Mountain Felling Sword.

"Such an unsightly display."

In the face of such an awe-inspiring weapon, the King of Heroes merely spoke thus.

"A King's treasury is not some commoner's toolshed," he said. "To bring out just one weapon to demonstrate one's wealth is no different from a beggar flaunting his rice bowl. To show such a pathetic display before me… you truly amuse me, mongrel."

Several golden ripples opened up, and in an instant the gigantic sword was stopped in its tracks and suspended in mid-air. Binding it and holding it in place, however, was what appeared to be a single golden chain that looked insignificant by comparison.

"What will you do now, you filthy cur?" the King challenged.

Almost as though it heard those words, the mass of shadow stretched out a single hand. Before the King could even speak another scathing comment, a very familiar-looking chain shot out of the murky palm.

Ig-Alima melted into the shadows, and the now-free chain that was Enkidu clashed with what appeared to be an identical replica of it above the streets of Fuyuki. Like two hungry snakes, the chains danced, slithering around and slamming into each other in attempt to break the other. It was an almost tame display compared to the clash of countless weapons earlier, but the air around the King of Heroes was now very different.

"… You would dare to mock me like this, vermin?" he muttered, the very air around him shaking as the King's anger threatened to erupt. "Had it simply been a simple act of trying to mimic the King, ending your pathetic existence would have barely sufficed. But you would even mock my friend…"

Every golden rippled faded into nothing. In their place, a single golden ripple appeared before the King of Heroes.

"… Rejoice, vermin," he said, as a single golden handle appeared from the ripple and rested in his hand. "For I shall now wipe out every last trace of your existence with a treasure far beyond what you deserve."

The weapon in his hand was not something that seemed feasible as a sword of any kind. Its blade was more of a cylindrical pillar of sorts, which made it impossible for it to slice anything. But that was of no concern; it was the penultimate Noble Phantasm, and the pinnacle of all Divine Constructs in existence.

"Behold, scum," Gilgamesh announced. "This is what it means to incur the wrath of the King of all of heaven and earth!"

As the segments of the 'blade' began to spin, the air around the Golden King screamed. There was nothing in all of existence that could match this sword, and even the space around him shook in the presence of its force.

"… Annihilate…"

The air screeched once more, but this time it was the air around the giant black shadow in the sky. The Eighth Class Card, for the first time, ascended further into the sky and charged towards the King of Heroes. However, it was not blindly flying towards him; the shadow, too, held a similar looking 'sword' in its hand that was tearing across the space around it.

The skies screamed. The earth screeched. The world, in that single visceral instant, shook violently, struggling to keep itself intact as it braced itself for the impending clash of unmatched Divine Constructs.

At the same time, the shadow and the King of Heroes hollered the same, unmistakable name:

"Enuma Elish!"

… Huh. This would actually have been more appropriate had I uploaded it on the last day of 2016, but whatever. Hope you liked this one!