Kirei was on his knees in his room, praying. He repeated the Our Father in his mind, mouthing the words and keeping his children in his heart. The priest was pleading with the Lord for his and his allies' success in the final battle that was soon to begin. Multiple days had passed and tonight would be when the war would end. If the Grail wasn't destroyed before sunrise, it would finish its preparations and be born into the world of humanity. Such destruction and suffering that could cause, it would be like staring into the core of Eden for the dark-souled priest. He couldn't imagine anything more captivating and thus it had to be stopped. That said, to actually think Kirei and company would succeed in dismantling the Grail would be blue-skying at its finest. That was why the priest wanted Caren to be sent away, preferably with Sakura and Rin. That was the most human thing to want as a father figure, but he was also too pragmatic to rid himself of assets that could help win the fight. Perhaps that was why he was willing to accept Caren's help as soon as he could spin the situation as being an opportunity to nurture Caren's empathy. He needed to convince himself that he was following a moral path, regardless of what path he was actually on. That, in and of itself, was human. What did it truly mean to be human in the end? Kirei chased that platonic ideal of what it meant to be human, but he wasn't sure what such an existence was actually like. His aspiration was inherently faulty for he could not properly define his goal's form. He spent his life chasing after a vague concept that he could never reach. For some reason, that felt pretty human to Kirei, even as the definition of human became more diluted. He was thinking too much about the definition of humanity. A true human was a sublunar existence, so trying to be the perfect representation of an imperfect thing was foolish. Kirei had to continue as he had been, walking down his flawed path.

Caren was in the dojo, sparring with Rin. It was all martial arts, no magecraft. Caren was on the offensive with a consistent string of strikes while Rin blocked or dodged each. This was the most trouble Rin had ever given Caren. Now that she had the experience of an alternate version of herself, she had honed her hand-to-hand combat techniques to as close to perfection as she'd probably ever reach. Having an actually threatening opponent made the spar thrilling in a way it normally wasn't for Caren. She wasn't sure she'd call it fun, but it was stimulating in a way that wasn't unpleasant. Caren wouldn't mind fighting against Rin this way again since it was an entertaining way to waste time. It wasn't lost on Caren how unusual it was for her to have a 'not bad time' with Rin, or anyone who wasn't Reines or a plate of mapo tofu. How much of that 'not badness' was the result of Rin's specific characteristics and how much was the result of just having a challenging opponent in general was murky. It didn't really matter. Caren was having a decent time with her sister and whatever the greater implications of that were didn't matter at the moment.

Rin countered Caren's attacks while throwing in some of her own. She had never been able to put up this much of a fight against Caren before. This was the perfect opportunity for Rin to practice her new and improved martial arts before the final battle. That said, she wasn't using her magecraft martial arts against Caren, and it was that special style that Rin had invented which had received the greatest boost from acquiring Saber's knowledge and abilities. The unique art which Rin had worked hard on, Madō, was finally going to bear fruit in its new form, Madō Shinken(魔道神拳). On the one hand, it was cathartic to finally complete her Madō, but it was bittersweet knowing that it became completed, not by Rin's own efforts, but through acquiring the abilities of another version of herself. She felt like she had been handed success rather than having earned it herself. That said, the true test of her Madō would be when she used it in the final battle. That would be when Rin could prove herself, finally showing what she as an individual could achieve. There was no time to be sulky about getting some help when Rin's true trial was only a few hours away.

Sakura was sitting on the back porch of the household, admiring the sky that was beginning to transition from blue to orange. Bazett and Scáthach were training in the backyard, the queen helping the suited woman practice making runes quickly without compromising on quality. The final fight was soon to come and yet Sakura wasn't as afraid as she thought she would be. She was definitely scared, terrified even, but she wasn't in pieces over it like she worried she would be. Despite her fear, there was a determination inside her that made up for it. Sakura had suffered as a child in ways that were beyond the comprehension of most and that left her as a damsel in people's eyes. She was a wounded animal that needed to be taken in and protected. That had initially been endearing, but eventually Sakura grew sick of it. People were being nice to her, but they were also looking down on her. No more. Now was the time for Sakura to prove her strength, as well as protect others for once instead of being protected. She was going to be one of the last lines of defense protecting humanity from being dissolved in curses. It was an honor for Sakura to be in such a position. No more Sakura the victim, the child, the broken. Now was the time for Sakura the hero, the protector, the strong.

Bazett's hands had become numb from punching into Scáthach's spear so many times. They had originally been working on runes, but they had since transitioned to close range combat. She knew she should probably take it easy given the final fight was on the horizon, but the magus had too many emotions building inside her to just sit and relax. Bazett had to release her worries through training or she'd be too wired to fight at full efficacy. This was the magus' method of meditation through combat. The fact that she felt a certain kind of peace through combat was similar to Scáthach, though Bazett didn't actually enjoy battles to the death like her beloved did. Her beloved Scáthach. Bazett was going to save Scáthach. This would normally be the time where Bazett would doubt herself, but she was done with self-loathing. Such feelings would hold her back and she needed to be at her strongest in order to save Scáthach. It didn't matter if she didn't know how she was going to save her beloved, Bazett was going to save Scáthach no matter what. It was time for Bazett to prove she was worthy of her queen's love.

Scáthach, the living Scáthach that had only recently left the Land of Shadows, was enjoying her spar with Bazett. Watching the redhead act so earnestly in every moment was endearing. It was no wonder that another version of Scáthach fell in love with Bazett. Such a relationship was something the living Scáthach envied and always had, though it was only in recent times that she was able to admit that. The yearning she felt for such a connection is what motivated Scáthach to save her counterpart so she and Bazett could be reunited. The love between the Servant Scáthach and Bazett was a miracle of such rarity that it may have been the only one of its kind throughout all existing parallel worlds. Such a wonder needed to be preserved.

Chloe was reading a hentai manga while sitting in the mansion's living room. One might wonder why someone would read such a thing while Sella, Liz, Archer, and Reines were all in the room, but Chloe just didn't care. She was proud to display her choice in reading material and the fact that she wasn't ashamed of it. Reines wasn't judging her since she was sitting next to Chloe, looking over the young woman's shoulder at the manga's contents. The blonde sat in what looked like a silver bean-bag chair, but was actually a blob of mercury named Trimmau. While most everyone else was probably stressing out about the final battle, Chloe was just relaxing. She was confident they'd succeed in destroying the Grail. After that, she'd get to move on from the stupid Holy Grail War and travel the world while keeping in touch with Illya and her family. Everything would be fine. Totally fine. Positively fine. Okay, maybe Chloe was a little stressed out.

Sella was vibrating with fear for the future to the point that she looked comical. She was thinking of every way things could go wrong in the final battle, mainly Chloe and Leysritt dying to the odious mud of the Grail. Trust in everyone, that's what Sella kept telling herself, but it was hard. She had to trust in Chloe, the Chloe who had grown so much in just over a week. Chloe had once been drenched in her own desire for revenge, but now she had achieved inner peace. If she could do that, Chloe could do anything, including survive this last battle. As for Leysritt, she was as strong as a Servant so she could take care of herself. Sella just had to trust them.

Leysritt was raiding the kitchen connected to the living room for whatever snacks she could nosh on. Leysritt wasn't concerned with the battle to come. She would just do as she always did in a fight, protect her family while terminating any and all threats. Chloe and Sella would be kept safe.

Heracles was in Spirit Form, secretly reading the hentai. He was ready for the battle to come. In life, he continuously destroyed all that he loved, killing family members so many times it became a sick joke. He couldn't repeat the same mistake again. Now was his time for redemption. He would use his nigh-immutable body as a shield to protect the entire world from the Grail's billions of curses. If he couldn't save everyone, then he'd at least save Chloe, Sella, and Leysritt. They had become the newest of Heracles' families and this one wasn't going to die.

Reines was looking at hentai for the first time and it was quite the enlightening experience. While there was much to be worried about at the moment, the only person Reines was really seriously concerned about was her brother. He was going to face the man he loved, now as an enemy. Brother was a man with a strong will when push came to shove, but he was still a human and was thus vulnerable. Would he be able to bring himself to kill the man he had previously worked so hard to meet again? He probably could. Would he be okay afterward? That was the real question.

Waver was sitting on his bed in his room. He was staring at his Servant, the Berserker known as Iskandar Alter. The maddened conqueror stood in place, breathing in and out like a beast would. There was no deeper reason in his eyes. Waver knew that staring at the man he knew wasn't truly present only increased his longing. It was masochistic. Waver was pretending that he was trying to desensitize himself to Iskandar's face so he wouldn't hesitate in the final battle. He really just wanted to look at the man who had defined him. That giant of not only body, but of will and heart, was someone that Waver would never truly meet again. All he could find were echoes of him. A maddened warrior. A villain bent on killing most of mankind. The hero who was too big for the world was gone and wasn't coming back. Waver knew this, he did. Now if only he acted like he did, then maybe he could be free.

Iskandar Alter wanted to conquer. He wanted to kill and pillage and defile. He wanted everything to be his. If he didn't want everything, then he wouldn't be Iskandar.

The Gorgon Sisters were who they were because they were three. They were a trinity, a trio, even as they flew around the poisoned river of Fuyuki to make sure Gilles wasn't going to use it to summon a gargantuan demon. That was why they couldn't imagine the loneliness of most beings who were fundamentally individuals. They especially didn't understand how their fellow Caster, Medusa, could survive alone. The very idea that Stheno and Euryale wouldn't give away their Divinity in all timelines was hard to swallow. Three sisters that were no longer a collective, but were instead unique personalities that didn't have the constant company of each-other's minds. Terrifying. Poor alternate Medusa.

Medusa the Caster was accompanying the Gorgon Sisters in patrolling the river. She struggled to pay attention to the waterway when she was accompanied by a trio who were everything she'd always dreamed of. Medusa wanted to be as close to her Stheno and Euryale as the Gorgon Sisters were with each other. That unyielding love that was without judgment or disguise, that infatuation with their own collective consciousness, it sounded like heaven. The closest Medusa got to achieving that kind of existence was when she became the monster known as Gorgon and devoured her sisters to become one with them. But she was barely even herself anymore at that point, only a shadow of her original intentions remaining as the force driving her mutated body. It wasn't the same as what the Gorgon Sister had. Oh how Medusa wished she could have lived in a history like theirs.

Henriikka paced around her and Luviagelita's bedroom while her sister sat on one of the beds. The reclusive sibling was running simulations in her head of every possible way the fight to come could play out. No matter how she imagined things, she only found futures where they failed and died. This wasn't even accounting for all the x-factors that could throw things into chaos. It was these kinds of situations that Henriikka dreaded more than any other and were the reason she was so cautious. She hated feeling helpless. Her fear wasn't just for her own safety, but for her sister as well. They may not have got along most of the time, but Henriikka and Luviagelita were siblings who cared about each other the way sisters should. That's why Henriikka was so afraid. Of all the things to have to deal with, the end of the world was just too much.

Luviagelita sorted through all the gems she had. She had been buying up all the jewels she could from all over Fuyuki in preparation for the final battle. As she did, she thought about Clown, and how much she wanted to strangle Fujimura to death for killing him. She couldn't though, because that criminal would be a useful tool in defeating the Black Grail, as would Assassin. Luviagelita would get her chance for revenge after the fighting was done, but that would only be if Fujimura survived the fight. There would be no satisfaction in that criminal getting killed by a stray spell or dagger. Ironically, if she wanted to kill Fujimura, Luviagelita would have to protect her first. How vexing.

Taiga was eating a bucket of fried chicken as she watched Assassin and Illyasviel train in the shed. The homunculus was scanning and copying a variety of Assassin's Noble Phantasms to add them to her arsenal. This was also a way of contributing to her developing her own Reality Marble. Taiga didn't understand how all this worked, but she did know that Illyasviel was getting stronger fast. In terms of her swordsmanship, Illyasviel had become more than proficient, especially with Assassin's help. The homunculus had developed her own strange way of using swords that wasn't something that could truly be called swordsmanship, but it worked. The yakuza felt light on her feet when she thought about how much her student had grown. It was this satisfaction that Taiga had desired to feel for the last decade. She had become a teacher, if only for one person. It did not cleanse her of her sins, they were still things she'd have to pay for someday, but at least Taiga could say she helped one person in a way that mattered. There was consolation to be taken in that.

Assassin projected seven spears into his arms for Illya to simultaneously trace. Not only was Illya gradually adding every weapon in Assassin's arsenal to her own, but she was practicing tracing multiple things at the same time. She had grown with the rapidity Assassin expected of her. At this rate, she along with himself and one other person would be able to theoretically defeat Gilgamesh. Assassin could only say theoretically because Gilgamesh was such a wild card in terms of mood that it wasn't possible to accurately predict what he would do. It would be nice if Assassin didn't have to see another world in flames, but things weren't looking great overall. It would be especially painful to fail this time given Assassin would end up seeing several people he once knew die. The only cushion for the blow would be if he was one of the first to get slaughtered so he wouldn't have to watch everyone else get murdered. When did the man named Shirou Emiya become so pessimistic? After so many summonings, it was impossible to pinpoint an exact moment. Manifesting into the Assassin class didn't help given it emphasized Emiya's colder personality traits. Perhaps it would be better if he tried to have some faith, in Illya, in Rin, in everyone. Hopefully he wouldn't get stung this time.

Illyasviel looked at the weapons Assassin held and declared, "Trace on." In multiple phases, the homunculus began scanning and analyzing the structure of all the Noble Phantasms simultaneously. Not only did Illyasviel's Magic Circuits heat up, but her brain also felt like it was on fire as wireframes of the weapons appeared in her mind, the arrays filling in with detail until the homunculus knew every property the objects possessed and even their histories. All that information was jammed into the woman's skull without delicacy. It wasn't pleasant by any means, but Illyasviel's indefatigable will had allowed her to acclimatize to the tracing process. With all the weapons that were now in Illyasviel's arsenal, along with the Reality Marble she had just about completed, the homunculus might actually be able to go toe-to-toe with Servants. Whether or not she'd be able to beat Gilgamesh, even with help, was unlikely. Then again, only a few entities could perfectly prognosticate the future, so there was no use acting like she knew how poor her chances of victory really were. Worrying about her chances would only get herself worked up. She needed to stay confident, but cautious. Illyasviel was going to save her mama, and her mom, and her siblings. Don't question how, she just had to do it. As long as her animus was clear, things would be fine. Illyasviel was strong now. She wasn't weak like before, she had learned how to wield the kind of true strength that only those born weak could access. That's right, Illyasviel was strong. She was, nobody could tell her otherwise. Nobody except herself. For so long she had been wracked with anger towards herself for every single thing that had gone wrong throughout the Holy Grail War and even before it. Chloe's suffering, Mordred's death, Gray losing herself, mama getting possessed, mom being wracked with guilt. All of it ate at Illyasviel and made her parched for the strength she needed to protect what little still remained in her hands. At first she assumed the strength she wanted was the power to win in battle, and that was why she created the Origin Sword. While her assumption wasn't altogether wrong, her perspective was simply that she needed the power to break and destroy. That pretense was debunked when it became clear just how large a gap Illyasviel would need to climb to truly have destructive power that could rival Gilgamesh or the Lion King. It was insurmountable, and so Illyasviel had to look elsewhere. That was where Taiga and Assassin came in. They made Illyasviel realize that she needed a different strength that was eclectic. She needed variety and great numbers, something learning Gradation Air gave her. The homunculus' entire fighting style was born from various sources coming together. Alchemy, projection, daddy's Origin, Avalon, swordsmanship, Illyasviel's Sword Origin and Element, her Thaumaturgical Attribute of the flow and transfer of power, her functioning as a wish-granter, her time magecraft. Different powers from different sources coming together to form a technique that Illyasviel could never have achieved alone. That was true strength, the ability to learn and gather together the abilities of many for a common cause. This wasn't just Illyasviel's fight, it was everyone's fight. It was because this was everyone's fight that it was so vital that Illyasviel won, because it would be everyone on Earth that paid the price of failure.

Mordred Alter wondered who he was. He was in the shower, letting the feeling of the water against his skin act as grounding for him as he explored his identity. This was one of the only times he had left the Lion King's side since the Pretender knight had been summoned. Mordred needed to have a tête-à-tête with himself. Since being summoned by the Black Grail, the knight had felt distinctly separate from the previous Mordred. The old Mordred was just a fool that served as the catalyst for Mordred Alter's materialization. That opinion changed as Mordred came to meet the family of the old Mordred. That familial connection had reestablished itself in Mordred Alter and with it came emotions that were hard to process. Memories and beliefs that were once meaningless remnants of a deadman now held weight. It wasn't a question of if the old Mordred was still alive inside Mordred Alter, it was a question of if Mordred Alter was the same being as the old Mordred. If so, then what should Mordred Alter do? Did that information change anything? Should Mordred return to his family? Why? They'd be better off without him if history was any indicator. Then again, Artoria really did seem to forgive Mordred, just like how the Lion King forgave Mordred Alter. Artoria's family accepted Mordred as one of them and they appeared to genuinely care about him and appreciate his presence. Perhaps he wasn't such a problem after all. He even managed to protect Irisviel and Gray from Assassin. Did that counterbalance the sins of his first life? No, nothing could. Mordred was getting distracted with questions of identity when nothing changed what he was, a sinner who needed to be punished.

The Lion King was on her knees in her room, meditating. She was searching within her very Divine Core for Gray. For the last few days, while everyone has been training, the goddess has been finding and retrieving whatever pieces of Gray's being she could find within her essence to put them back together. She had been mildly successful. Little strands of the tapestry that was Gray were retrieved and woven together. The full picture was still incomplete, but there was at least something there that could be used as a basis for Gray's return. Perhaps that was wishful thinking, but such idealism was powerful at times. It was that optimism and refusal to accept dark realities that defeated the Lion King's in another timeline that was under threat. While the monarch culled thousands and was preparing to sacrifice humanity's autonomy for the sake of their preservation, a lone Master and the allies they had gathered together managed to not only stop her, but save the timeline from destruction at the hands of a Beast. Where the Lion King acted alone and in fear, that one Master acted courageously as just one among many. They were a true hero and an example of what the Lion King needed to be. She needed to face the impossible odds before her and her allies while staying hopeful that, by working together, they could overcome. After that, they would save Gray.

Artoria Pendragon, King Arthur, the King of Knights, the Once and Future King, was standing atop the mansion's roof. She was staring at Mount Enzo as if she could see through the earth and trees to lock eyes with her love, Irisviel. Artoria was going to save Iri. She already had a plan, though it wasn't going to be easy. No matter how difficult, Artoria was going to save Iri, and Gray, and Mordred, and Illya. Everyone was going to make it out of this okay, that was non-negotiable. Artoria was done pitying herself over her past mistakes and her inadequacies. It was unproductive and only served to hurt her. She needed to think about the future and what she needed to do to make it a good one. As the head of her family, it was her duty to remain strong and act as a good leader should. A true king must be powerful, charismatic, brave, and they need to always think about the wellbeing of others. The mistake that Artoria made in her old life that made her less than a true king was that she thought she needed to do everything alone, apart from everyone else. She thought she needed to be an icon like some kind of messiah. In truth, she just needed to be herself and rely on those willing to stand at her sides. As King Arthur, the distant king, she was weak and always would be, but as Artoria Pendragon, the woman who stood with her family and her allies, she was unstoppable.

The Black Grail, or was it Irisviel? She couldn't remember. What was she doing? Destroying the world, right. Why? Because humans were irredeemable. What about her family? They were just as bad. Right? She couldn't remember anymore. She stood in the chamber where the Greater Grail was held, the Beast within on the verge of being born. When that happened, Irisviel would be its vessel. What would happen to her then? She'd become nothing. Was she okay with that? Yes, she was. Right? Maybe. Who was she again? It was getting so hard to remember. How did she move her limbs? She hadn't done so herself in a while. Her body was just acting on its own. Could she ever control her body? That felt like a dumb question, but why? Everything was strange. Nothing made sense anymore. Did anything ever make sense, or was it all just nonsense and only now was the Black Grail questioning things? So hard to remember. Only one thought remained consistent in the homunculus' head. One phrase.

"Save me."