《I do not own TYPE-MOON or any other related franchise in this work of fiction. The story and OC characters are the only works I own.》
Beast of Earth.
The Faker's Oath...
The precious people to were gone already..
I threw away my pride..
And bare myself...became empty..
After losing everything, my goals became clear..And so I called forth to the far and beyond...
"Anything or anyone is fine, just lend me your strength...In exchange I will submit my entire being.." and my call was answered by the Earth...
In exchange to a Contract of eternal servitude, I received my strength and The Earth had allowed me an access to wield the strength of a Heroic Spirit.
And...there was only one Heroic Spirit who'd respond to such a childish notion...
The certain nameless Red Archer...The Heroic Spirit...EMIYA..
From the distant future of a different world..was another me who became a Heroic Spirit.
Forming pact with the Will of Humanity, AlayaShiki, he had formed an Contract of eternal servitude and became a Guardian of Humanity...
He followed through with the same Justice that Kiritsugu and I idealized..
The power meant for the whole humanity's sake...I...vowed to use it for a single person..
"Sorry.." Shirou says with a small smirk.
"But my little sister is working her hardest right now..could you just...wait just a little longer...?." Shirou asks with a playful smile.
"I cannot."
The chime of metallic clang echoes through the cavern. A pristine golden steel clad form arrives. Shirou notes with amusment what he might say about this.
A beautiful blonde woman with long golden hair tied in twintails and sapphire blue eyes.
With a voluptuous and plum body, she was a mature beauty. She wears a revealing armour far too reminiscent of certain golden king with armour mostly covering her her bottom half and one side of her arm, while her top half is only covered by abra with slight triangle patterns on the edge. She also wears ablade-like ornament on one side of her head and has red markings across her body.
I couldn't help but smirk, admiring that sinful figure thoroughly...She might've noticed my leering as she gave a gruesome look.
"Your wish will not be granted...A Faker that slipped into the Holy Grail War...shall not seize the miracle..!." She said with a narrowed eyes her left arm stretched
Like a ripple upon the surface of a pond, golden ripples formed behind her in the air, poking from inside those tears of space was Noble Phantasms. Ranging from Spears, Axes, sickle swords and even daggers...They were all Noble Phantasms...
Had it been any other person they would instantly be in a trance, the fear from the pressure exerted by this terrific woman..
Yet...
A barrage of weapons crashed to my self nearly decimating the area itself. The dust rises, the plume of dirt covers the place, the blonde lady narrows her eyes..The sound of steel grating against each other
echoed.
" For a mere flesh and blood human to stand against the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh...is the epitome of foolishness..Your corpse shall answer this slight against the King." The True Archer Class Card user proclaims with a tone dripping with confidence and malice..
She was about to walk over the corpse of the Faker and seize the Vessel of Grail for her Master, however...
Whoosh!~
The air tore as wind whipped harshly, the plume of dust gave way to the steel as dozen of swords shot against the Golden King's Card user..
Clang!, Clang!.
The steel met steel, yet weapons within the golden portals were struck down by stronger steel...of an imitation...After all, who said, that a Fake can't match the original..
"What!...it can't be...those swords...your looks.."The blonde whispered angrily as she couldn't believe what she was seeing..From the fading part of the dust, the visible form of the Faker was shown...
He had his dark red hair with the single lock of white hair swept back and wore a body armor consisting of a black tight and sleeveless shirt with silver accents that outline his muscles and a metal plate on his collar, along with black pants that have two black straps on his thighs, and another two strapped around his shins separate from each other.
He wears black metal plated shoes, which appear to be attached to his trousers. He wears the signature red coat, which were actually two separate sleeves connected by a metal plate at the back which covered his arms and was cut off showing his upper torso and midriff, and had a separate red open skirt which ended above his shins with the top fashioned and tied with an agemaki knot, covered by a silver metal plate.
In his hands were a pair of swords identical in shape, yet different in design, one was ivory white and other a jet black. It was representation of Ying and Yang.
There he sat atop a group of weapon that she shot forming around him as he sat on the ground which was higher as it looked like a King upon a throne.
And upon a hill of swords, a red archer sat upon like an uncrowned king of these war plains.
"Why ?, did you find me that irresistible ?." Shirou Emiya teased with a playful smirk as he taunted her.
"You!..How ?!..." she couldn't believe her eyes...The Greater Ritual was happening yet here he was emitting the strength and regalia befitting a Class Card Servant...
Yet, the moment his form was seen a phantom sense of dread kept over her spine. A sense of deep terror striking upon her the moment those glinting steel grey eyes warmed on her, as she shivered.
The pressure she exerted over the area was overwhelmed by another belonging to the Faker...It nearly choked her for a moment, only the King of Heroes's ego and her own will keeping her composed..
"Well, they say a birds of a feather flock together, don't we, Counterfeit ?." Emiya poked fun at her as several more portals open against him.
"To insult a King!..For such insolence..you shall pay with your life!." The female Gilgamesh look alike glaring daggers at him as she roared. The image of such a fearsome woman shooting dozens of legendary weapons from ages by gone will scare anyone..
Yet, from the memories of the Counter Guardian, I had seen far greater horrors to name, and these mere pale imitation in hands of this girl who isn't even the true King of Heroes, they don't scare me much now..
The Country Guardian had fought the King of Heroes, when he was human, and tore off the right arm of the incarnated Heroic Spirit. The speed and intensity of the blades arriving to meet my own was simply lacking comparatively...
However, that is to be completely expected. Had it been against a human Shirou Emiya then I would have been hard pressed, the only hope was that he may buy enough time for Miyu to finish the Ritual.
...However, what she was against is a True Heroic Spirit incarnated upon a Human Vessel with the 100% compatiblilty...
Against a half baked Gilgamesh, I was confident I could win...However, since I was newly made Pseudo Servant with my will intact I was weaker than what you would expect of an average Servant since I would have to adjust to this new body and regain the power as a True Heroic Spirit...
Therefore, I would have to finish this quick using my trump card..
With the instincts and battle knowledge of the Counter Guardian I swept through the place dodging and slashing away the weapons aimed at me as my swords met their match completely overwhelming the Counterfeiter in both strength and speed overwhelming, the Gates of Bab-ilu.
"Lowly..Faker!!." She roared. Her eyes conveying her anger as she sent a barrage of great swords to massive swords that can only be lifted by brutes..
"That's my name!, don't wear it off. " Shirou commented cheekily deflecting them with the very same swords before skidding under the greatsword smirking at her, further angering the golden King's user...
Suddenly a multitude of portals opened above him and underneath him, making his eyes widen, before instantly using Mind's Eyes to barely evade the attacks as his form was struck down by very fast incoming projectiles with a tremendous burst of power.
While avoiding a good portion of them, in the end such an un-Gilgamesh like tactics he didn't expect had caught onto him making him grit the teeths as his clothes singed of burnt flesh and fresh blood leaked through his wounds...
"Your strange strength was something unpredicted and the strength of your attacks was staggering. I do not know what tricks you are using but in the end..only thing that await you...is a certain ruin.." She says coldly as she walks towards the downed form of her enemy. The golden glimmering near her prods an long golden axe to appear next to her. Her gauntlet clad arm grasped it tightly.
For a second, Shirou felt his Saint Graph shimmer out, and nearly blink out. He groaned. Exerting such a strong pressure over a barely trained power was indeed resulting in such exhaustion..
He grunted as he tried to get up. He then watched the woman walk towards him with a cold and apathetic look. He smirked.
"You know...you're suprisingly cute.." Shirou smirks as he watches her pause with an incredulous look shot towards him. He manages to stand with staggering steps.
"So much worry over your enemy and your hesitation to kill me..have you fallen in love with me ?." Shirou asks with a flirtatious smirk. The woman looked at him as if he was an idiot.
Who in their right mind would fall in love with a person that they are trying to kill ?. Plenty infact, he had only viewed a bits and glimmers of Archer's life and he had already seen how he had such tendency for woman who tried to kill him had indeed fallen for him.
For a second, Shirou pauses...Could it be that this girl is his own heroine ?..
In a way, she certainly hits all of his tastes. Blonde, twintails, beautiful blue eyes, an amazing figure...
He shook his head, this was not important now. Miyu was important.
"That's not important now, I would like to dine and wine at it but Miyu comes first...So.." Shirou says with a cocky smirk as even more golden portal open up. Hell hath no fury of woman, eh ?. Shirou stretches his left hand before her facing the incoming weapons of legend from the Golden Treasury of Babylon...
"I'm the Bone of my sword."
The cavern echoes the melody of the Faker's voice before her. Her eyes narrows as she shoots the silvery streaks of projectiles, promising death.
" Heart of crystal, blood of iron..."
The death does not answer the call of the weapons shot towards him . A triple layered ephemeral pink petal blooms his outstretched hand. The armaments of war impacts against the shield...Yet none breaks...
"I have created over thousands of blades.."
A wall of gold opens, the armament of legends realised tears into reality. Even if a hollow vessel, these are the stronger ones, the A-ranked Noble Phantasms...
"Unaware of Beginning.."
Yet, none was allowed to trespass the The Great Defence of Aias. The Shield of Ajax doesn't wither away..Taking the 'projectiles' that are 'thrown' towards the shield all was left in their tracks.
"Nor Knowing End.."
Golden portals opened once more, from it snaked out chains, golden ethereally chains. Shirou's eyes widen, he had not expected for this Counterfeiter to have it of all things...Chains of Heaven, Enkidu..
"Have withstood pain to create many weapons..."
The chains shoots towards me, snaking all over, their divine frames wrapping around me like a prisoner, the chains that binds the gods now binds me.
"So, these hands shall give happiness.."
From the head to toes I was binded by the ephemeral chains binds me with their otherworldly steel. The busty blonde lady looks coldly at me as she runs towards me brandishing the greatsword..
"There is no regret over this oath.."
Smoke emits from my hand, silvery grey eyes shines brightly. Enkidu chokes the every corner of my body. The feminine Gilgamesh glares at me hateful and coldly as she swings the greatsword harshly to cleave me apart..
"For this whole life was—"
He finished abruptly looking at her with a soft smile behind the ethereal magneta shield even as rain of steel struck the shield it had not wavered—neither the smile or the shield—, a smile that had made her heart skip a bit for a moment. Enkidu tightened their hold..
The pink petalled shield of Aias fades.
There's no change.
A long spell such as that should have affected the surrounding.
Magic influences the world.
But, his spell does not affect ths world instead—
"—Unlimited Blade Works..."
—Fire burned.
An ephemeral azure white fire runs across the floor and looks like a line, no—the surrounding looked like forming a boundary line.
The hue of fire colours her vision and the cavern was dyed in it's brightness.
When her eyes opened, she stared in awe at my unfamiliar surroundings. The greatsword impacted over nothing, there was no Faker here...A few specks of snowflakes falls on her cheeks...
Pain assaults her head. The knowledge of Grail and Gilgamesh's ego reveals the nature of this absurdity before her.
This act of highest defiance against the world, the symbol of greatest rebellion against the world by your own beliefs materialised at it's finest.
Burning cold fire and cogs of copper steel, an ever stretching fields of war plains with cold steel stabbed on the ground stretching endlessly in numeral as they reach to the horizon till your sight meets in this harsh tundra covered by darkest of nights—yet the light of moon hung above gives an enchanting beauty to it's ominous landscape.
A glaring pain assaults her head as the King of Heroes's ego hurts her head enough for her to stumble. The Hero King is not pleased. He is certainly repulsed by this.
All these swords are famous, those armaments and treasures that dwell within the insides of Gates of Babylon are here, — no it won't be a surprise to say that those that even does not exist in—her Class Card's— Gates of Babylon lay scattered over these snowy plains.
An almost infinite projection of weapons.
Immeasurable collection of weapons make this place seems like a wasteland.
The knight in red reigns upon this kingdom of rubble.
"This is—?." Inside the illustrative fire that somehow does not feel hot nor cold, she voices out her confusion, her beautiful face twisting into a gruesome expression.
"—Reality Marble." The red knight finishes.
Switching individual and collective. Fantasy and Reality. Inside and Outside. Overwriting the World with one's mind, soul.
A great forbidden magic that puts form to user's mind and violates the reality of world.
It's the greatest of the forbidden magic that embodies the caster's inner world. This a place where his life began, the life and soul, the meaning of this boy with body of swords...
Everything is here yet there is nothing. This is the final answer, the truth of his existence as a living sword. His hill of swords.
The only magic allowed for the existence known as Emiya Shirou.
"This is your Noble Phantasm, Faker ?—" she asks, almost amused as she looked at the beautiful yet haunting world of the Faker.
"—There is no such thing as Noble Phantasm for me. I am simply a nameless Heroic Spirit, with no legend or basis of fact. A Nameless Red Archer, but yes this could be my own 'Noble Phantasm', in a way." He finishes woth a solemn smile. There was no happiness or anger. Simple acceptance and no judgement.
That was the truth, he—Red Archer— had no holy swords or demonic swords
"So this your ability—A Reality Marble." She spats those words with a sneer, yet appearing proud and beautiful.
"Yes, why are you so surprised. These are all imitations, as you said trifling swords." Shirou says with a playful smile as the sword stabbed on the ground levitates to him.
"But there is no rules that an imitation cannot defeat an original...Though it's a shame that I am fighting Counterfeit." He gives a mocking smile. The blonde Counterfeit bristles under my teasing. Her lips curl into a snarl of fury.
Glimmering golden lights rips into existence besides her. The thousands of the great weapons..Be it be mundane or magical, western or eastern, ancient or modern, battle made or oriental, holy or demonic..All the treasures of the world surged with a great strength, to meet against the fakes..
A flame of burning red coalesces around my hand, the hilt of the peerless sword of the Paladin of Charlemagne, Roland was firm clasped in my hands. A wicked smile played on the red head.
"Here I come, Counterfeit.— Do you have enough weapons in stock ?."
" Do not get so arrogant, mongrel!." Gates of Babylon fires the blades of mystical and legendary as my imitation break them all, even before they leave their portal..
The cold and harsh weather of these landscapes blows strongly..Steel clashes against steel. Fake meets Imitation that pretends to be an original. The pristine gold meets polished silver.
Clashing blades akin to two viscous beast hooks horns. Two monstrosities fought for dominance. None too much intended to loose..
"What happened King of Heroes ?!. Can't match blades with a Faker!." Shirou drawled sarcastically as he gave a horizontal slash at the beautiful blonde woman. Her aquamarine blue eyes glaring balefully. Each of her blow goes numb against mine's because of the staggering strength powering mine.
I was a bit stronger in matter of strength compared to Archer due to my... Contract..This strength was borrowed from the Planet herself who gave birth to Beasts that shook Heaven and Earth with their strength alone.. This strength was Monstrous indeed.
However, this battle was of wills. To save one person over an entire world against to save entire world sacrificing a single one.
And...a big brother had a duty to do.
"You damn Faker!." She roared, her face confronts into disgust. A multitude of war blades within the gates of Bab-ilu. A flash of silver streaks met the golden streaks.
With the countless treasures filling the ancient King's Treasury, from the gods to demons have their treasures owned by the King of Heroes for whom they are all descended from they all fell from the sky against him like a divine punishment...
And the man's rage met God's divine punishment. The steel of gods met the man kind's legends. The man prevailed.
But, my true intention was to decapitate her without the show of power. As I closed in I knew she could not avoid this blow.
At this range and at this time...She can't get away.
"Trace Overedge!." Kanshou and Bakuya, twin married swords expands, it's form akin to wings of an angel and a fallen angel, darkened like a black night and another ivory white like a crescent white moon. It was rearing to gut her.
'Huh ?.' The space around me switches, this...was not where I was before...I was in the cold sky above. The moon slowly fading...The light of this world dimming..
'I missed ?!...No I didn't...she...' I watched from above as the pristine white distortion of cracks in space..
"What a thoughtless fool!..Do not make light of the Ainsworths!!." She said coldly turning to glare at my free falling form..
"Well, guess the Ainsworth's got me." I said dryly. Spatial Displacement. Just like the Mr.Hero of Justice there. So, she's an Ainsworth, huh ?. Julian sister's perhaps, eh, she looks good.
A spark of golden ripples caught my attention. A massive one comparatively. A multitude of curse arrives fo my head. A phantom feeling of terror creeps upon my head, a remembrance of certain fight of a Red Archer against another King of Heroes...
"I have no reason to keep you company as you try to buy time..No more fooling around!." Ainsworth says distastefully as she waves her hand..An enormous bulk of a pair of large sword pokes out..
"Come forth...Ig-Alima!. Sul-Sagana!." A pair of enormous swords the size of skyscrapers adorned the moonlit sky of this desolate world of tundra steel grave..
One was adamantine black with specks of greenish blue glimmering gem like structure open the blade...The other one was jagged sword, with flaming magma like blades and handle of very jagged rock like structure...
It was Divine Construct. No doubt. My eyes analysed their components from the history of forge to their war path by the war god from the ancient Mesopotamia..
Ig-Alima, Green Field Cutting Through the Thousand Mountains.
One of the twin swords possessed by the war god that appears in Mesopotamian mythology, Zababa…
Also known as Cleaving Mountain Sword. A long and unrefined gigantic sword that can cut even through a thousand mountains.
It cuts not with a blade alone.
It breaks up not with mass alone.
This sword made by a god comprehends the concept of "skyline."
That is the very same principle through which heaven and earth are absolutely separated, and as a result of the principle itself leaking out into the brandishing of the sword, this gigantic sword easily severs a thousand mountains.
Sul-sagana, Horizon of Dawn that Burns Down the Myriad of Seas.
A sword that the Mesopotamian war god Zababa has and that is paired with Ig-Alima…
A Divine Construct that burns down even a myriad of seas, molded as a peak resembling a cluster of lava and a sword blade of pure fire. It possesses the concept of "horizon."
That is at the end of the sea and the sky, the peak of "the territory in which they melt and mix." If the direction of the dawn is given to it, that is namely a furnace that melts down everything. What springs up continually are the flames of purge that burn down and make everything one. Before the bright-colored brandishing of the sword, right and wrong, whatever was the enemy ―They are equally molten inside the daybreak.
The information breakdown to his head. It made him dizzy, he was not used to analysing Divine Constructs unlike EMIYA who had tried them few times...
These swords could only be matched by an equal Divine Construct.
"Trace!—" Shirou groans as he descends down, diamond dust gathering around his hands. An outline of certain swords forming. The Ainsworth's eyes widened.
"—On!." What can match it better than itself !. And then Ig-Alima and Sul-Sagana impacted against it's hollow frames. With a war cry Shirou plunged the both pairs of Hollow Divine Constructs.
There, a massive plume of golden flame burst and the landscape turned barren and broken, a terrific scorching flame and gigantic shock wave spewed from the impact between two flaming swords and a mountain cutter sword.
"Trace—Fractal."
My words shake the air and distort the space around me in a quaking mess. The scorching flames dies down immediately around me as I draw the string of my black bow while falling from the sky.
Shrinking endlessly, expanding endlessly, multiplying endlessly. The fantasy turn into chaos with law. It came from nothingness, but it didn't come from nothingness, and many similarities arise from expansion
"—My core is twisted in madness!."
"Cadalbolg."
True Name is revealed. The Phantasm was filled with mana, like a balloon filled water, it burst as I send them towards my target for it's imminent extermination.
The arrow leaves the string with rhythmic "thump". The arrow distorts the space itself, showing off whirlwind in it's trajectory path.
There is no need to aim, the image is there, the attack will hit regardless.
The space bends and distort for the purpose, the fabrics or reality groans under the weight of the rue brought forth by the great Irish hero's phantasmal drill like sword turned into a Broken Phantasm.
The arrows drills through the air, the space crashes and bends. The Ainsworth's eyes dilate as Phantasmal sword breaks into her self.
BOOOOMM!!!
An even more powerful explosion rings out, an mushroom of crimson and violet zephyr of bloody hellish flames burst forth.
"Though they are nothing more than hollow fakes, you have still managed to forge a pair of Divine Constructs under this graveyard of yours." I heard the voice of the Ainsworth, my face loosed the colour as I stare with a no small amount of shock.
'!?'
Walking from the explosion with a burnt yet still fine image was this beautiful war maiden, her anger trained on me. The flame raged around her creating an image of great majesty and terror.
Then, a golden ripple appeared next to her horizontally, something, a golden handle poked out. She reached out with her gauntlet clad hand for the handle.
From a shuddering violate tear in the space time, something was pulled out.
My eyes already stinging from tracing two Divine Constructs was now positively hurting magnificently. I was already felt a phantom sensation of tremendous dread in my stomach.
It was something that was of blade. Yet it was not a sword. It's concept was far older than the concept of 'sword'.
It looked like a drill, with a golden handle, and a blade with three parts of black and pulsing red revolving cylindrical shapes forming it's 'blade' ending with a dull circular end. It had glowing circuit like patterns with varying meaning in Divine Frames.
It was made for humanity, yet not by humanity. It was the beginning that predates the end, it was genesis that brings apocalypse.
It's cylindrical three phase began to spin—each in different directions. It represents the cosmos.—Heaven, Earth and Hell—all alike yet different. Crimson spewed forth. Malignant and destructive force tore the fabrics of space and time.
It's existence was acknowledged by me, many times had I—Archer, seen it's eldritch magnificence, several had he fell against this violation of physical world and the bane of the world.
Ea was it's name. The Sumerian King of Gods, Ea himself whose name this primordial weapon had graced it's existence.
When I fought her, I was confident I could beat her just fine, even poking fun at her...Until I saw what she pulled out.
I had deemed that some measly mages that had somehow contained the fragment and spirits of Servants into some worthless cards were not able to replicate the most treasured Noble Phantasm of King of Heroes, of which not even the World itself can't comprehend...
..Clearly, I was scammed indeed. Even if it was pitiful weak compared to the original seen in the memories of Archer, I must admit it was certainly something that could completely kill me.
Even if it couldn't possibly pierce the world of mine due to it's deployment by the Saint Graph of a Heroic Spirit, my Reality Marble was not still tempered to take on this terrific attack of the Sword of Rupture.
Just my luck. I couldn't help but snark at my misfortune internally.
"Your very existence is flawed. You may prove to be a hindrance to the last legend we have written and put in motion for the mankind...Your irksome ability, your strange use of Magecraft, and your abhorrent self-destructive convictions..." She stood like a great goddess that deemed that the mortal has demanded her right to destroy his very soul. She stood with impassive outlook as I gave a roguish grin at her.
Thunderous rearing of storm filled with blood like wind rippled across this wintery landscape, the world quakes in it's waked, the distortion grew stronger.
"..They will be torn to piece...together with your world!!." She proclaimed as she raised the Sword of Rupture high in the air, the fabrics of reality was tearing itself apart
"Heh, I'm surprised you even have it, no matter how degraded it is, Counterfeiter." Shirou gave a mocking chuckle at the busty blonde as he took a step back wobbling. If glares could kill, I should've ended the moment she stared at me with eyes full of hatred piercing me. The harsh whips of crimson storm brewing around the woman...However..I was far from deterred.
"There's no sword that could stand equal to it...then I'll just imagine what can!!." Shirou roared with his golden eyes shining with emotions surging among them.
A faint outline of a hilt of sword appeared on his hand...
"If you fight someone you can't defeat. Imagine what can."
It was the only advice the Wrought Iron Hero had ever gave me.
And imagine I did. I imagined of fire, baptized by the evil fire of the Zoroastrian God of Evil, I become an empty husk...
And I imagined of Utopia, saved by the Legendary Sheath of King Arthur it shaped me to it's will, a husk was to be filled with content, from the aspect of Sheath, a sword was needed to be sheathed. And I was granted to be a Sword.
And I imagined of, a smile, a smile of pure happiness as my father hugged me to his chest holding me dearly, the smile I envied to hold dear...
And I imagined, of a night under the moonlight, an ideal passed down, inheritance of a beautiful dream..
And finally...Imagined of myself under a moonlit night, a beautiful blonde knight with emerald eyes, her cold jewel like eyes asking me...
" I ask you, are you my master.."
Illusion.
Imagination.
Image.
A coalescence of all kinds of my image, born from an fake illusion over the recollection of the red knight, an image from the soul.
A sight, a vision that the Counter Guardian will never forget even if he fell to the deepest pits of hell. A girl knight with her sword holding the hopes of mankind.
The cogs atop the frozen world moved abruptly shinning a silver frame, from the corners of the world, golden grains of light amassed.
Among the endless wasteland of blades, all these golden motes of light lit the dark world whose light of moon was fading.
Ainsworth gasped, a feeling bloomed in her. A feeling of 'hers' rather than the one imitated by the Heroic Spirits.
Yet...
"Return to the Genesis!."
The Sword of Rupture was merely held even higher to cleave apart all, to show this world the 'Truth' of it's very self. The steel around her melted and disintegrated.
The handle of a sword appeared in his hands, it was a long sword with European descend by it's out look. The grains of golden light was composing it.
His silver eyes snapped open.
...This it. This is my promise, my oath...
"The torrent of life ushers..."
I took a step forward, Ea had already charged the strength of 'Truth' flowing among the blade...
"This the roar of the star..."
The grains of golden motes coalesce together to form an image, an oath, a promise...
A ivory white blade glowing a pristine gold, inscribed with ancient Fae Letters. It's handle was bright gold with blue enamels, a massive torrent of light swells like a storm.
There it is, the sword of victory, the holy sword forged within the inner sea of the planet.
"An oath made to the planet...
Neither I—nor Archer could never create the Last Phantasm, born from the depth of the planet and use it...atleast not without dying..
However, there are some exceptions. A variable amounts of conditions and a very obvious favour was now being used.
The condition are met
The Last Phantasm was to be replicated by the inner forge, known as Unlimited Blade Works.
The soul of the user is weighed in place of bringing the breath of the planet to the surface of reality.
And finally, the effects of Planet's help was visible.
"Excalibur—Image!!..." The pillar of light was swung.
"Enuma—Elish!!." The storm of crimson distortion was shot.
The light of victory clashed against the star of creation...
Shirou felt blood trickling from his nose, from his ears, and his mouth. He felt a phantom pain over his body as he held the Promised Victory upon his hand.
Yet he smiled. He could see it, the light of victory. The golden pillar slowly but surely overwhelming the crimson swirl of truth.
—Then suddenly, the Phantasm slipped from his hand, the image broke off. Crimson and black spewing over him, his Reality Marble breaking away. He blinked.
The pure blistering white envelopes his vision. He feels a connection cut off abruptly. He smiled serenely.
At last I understand...
It was all mystery to me that I was able to survive those seven battles consecutively and where all that prana came from..
The person that kept me going was...
The one who gave me strength to keep fighting was..
Miyu all along.
As I lay there upon the ground, bruised and tired, yet not dying...I wonder how..How did I survive it..
Golden flicker caught my eyes...My eyes widened...The light of gold and blue glimmering...A cocoon of golden energy..It was...
The soul of the planet, The Ever Distant Utopia...Avalon.
"I see..." Shirou whispers as his form dissipates into golden grains, akin to when Servants die.
The Red Archer hadn't know but the Sheath had never left the sword..
"I won...Kiritsugu.." With that he faded into the inner sea of the planet...