From beneath the mountaintop, where two people stand in preparation amidst the night, one takes a deep breath.
"It's time, Saber. Are you ready?"
She does not answer. Her silence alone is enough for her willingness to be conveyed.
Her Master turns to her and reaches out his hand. She glances at it for a moment, before reaching out her own, grasping his hand.
"Promise me that you will win and make it alive."
She peers into his amber eyes, seeing the warmth inside them and the trust that's placed on her is enough for her to let out a reassuring smile.
The only person that she's cared about doing it for.
"I promise, Shirou."
Shirou smiles and nods, turning back to the temple itself, and then they make the climb.
They walk up the steps leading to the temple. The trees swaying from the soft wind, no semblance of life could be felt from them as the air becomes increasingly more scattered with corruption the closer they reach their destination.
It was enough to make one choke.
The Holy Grail is nearing its completion. The degrading energy she senses must be the result of it, oozing its way into the soils, causing the life of this temple to rot.
She turns her eyes to her Master walking beside her. He must feel it too if the struggle in his expression is of any indication. She is fine due to her nature, but she's worried that Shirou might not be able to handle it.
No matter how much he says that he's fine, he's still a human. And this amount of corruption will surely take its toll on him, sooner or later.
Another reason why whatever she must do, she must end it quickly. For her, and for her Master's sake.
Eventually, they reach the entrance. A lone figure stands waiting for them in the middle of the temple grounds, staring at them with disinterest in his crimson gaze within the empty space.
The Golden Archer and the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh. The greatest trial of this war. An aura of authority and power radiates from him, blanketing both her and Shirou as they glare at him.
She clutches her hand, the sword's sheath creaking from the pressure.
"I see you have taken your leisurely time getting here, mongrels. Well, it doesn't matter whether you got here quickly or not. After all, there's no chance that you can stop the process of the Holy Grail's manifestation."
His arrogant voice rings loud and clear within the empty ground, as if he's announcing to an audience that doesn't exist. To a world that would soon be brought to end if the Holy Grail reaches its conclusion.
Fitted with golden armour with inscriptions printed on it, he focused his gaze on her. An invitation as silver and crimson peers into each other.
"You will be having your battle with me, Saber. The Faker can go ahead to the priest, though I wouldn't place any misguided hope in his victory."
She turns her head towards her Master, who saw her concern and reassures her with a smile.
She nods and refocuses herself on the Archer before her.
"Remember our promise, Saber."
Leaving those words behind, Shirou rushes off to the back of the temple. The two Servants now alone with their own devices, facing each other.
Now's the time.
She places herself to the middle of the ground as she unties the string and unsheathe her sword, the sheath fading away into gold dust while her blade glints from the moonlight shining upon it.
"Hope you will provide me some actual enjoyment before you turn to dust."
Gilgamesh raises his hand as golden portals manifest behind him like a legionnaire. Weaponry of all kinds pours out and takes aim at her as she looks over each and every one of them, their quality of the highest order.
Using Noble Phantasms as projectiles, befitting for one of his stature.
She wields her weapon to her side with both hands and bends her legs slightly, her breathing slowing down as her heartbeats transition into mechanical pulses, her eyes emptying itself from emotions.
Transforming herself into the machine born to kill.
"Prepare yourself, mongrel."
Gilgamesh snaps his fingers, and thus the battle begins with the burst of raining blades.
She dashes forward, dodging the incoming projectiles with unmatched speed as she simultaneously deflects the treasures that reach her, heading her way to Gilgamesh's position, who looks upon her advance with naught a worry in his posture.
The ground cratered and breaks from the impact of his artillery, her blade to her side as she rushes to her foe, then she swings her weapon upon him with a slash-
Her sword's blocked in a display of sparks, a sword held between the Golden Archer's grasp, taken out of his vault as he glares into her.
She continues her assault as he blocks and parries her head-on, slash, slice, thrust, he counters them all.
Even still, he cannot match her speed, her agility, her ferocity. An unrelenting attack that's bound to break through, one that he cannot defend against. All she needs is a single opportunity.
Bit by bit, inch by inch, he's pushed back from her assault. His treasures which shot upon her occasionally would be dodged before she engaged with him again, annoyance flaring in his gaze.
Her attacks relentless, slash after slash, thrust after thrust, her mind emptied from meaning except for her only purpose, her only goal, to win this battle at all costs. Her blood, her fuel, her heart, her engine, her body, the mechanical machine that brings all of the experience of her times as a killer for Alaya into one confined space, originating from her memory core, the mind.
She will accept only victory, no matter what.
Amassing her utmost strength, she slams her blade against his sword, locking them together as she pushes herself closer, twisting the blades and in turn her body-
And with a twirl, she kicks her heel up against his chin, disorienting him and using the opportunity to slash at his head, intent on cutting it clean-
Only to cut him on the cheek when he manages to deflect in time, dodging her way out when a bombardment hits her position.
A streak of blood leaks from his cheek, a blemish on his otherwise flawless visage, which is now twisted in disgust and disgruntlement. His eyes bearing contempt for her, a being who should not be able to harm him, harmed him.
"You… To think that you of all things would wound me like this."
"What's this? Is the King of Heroes afraid of a little cut on the cheeks?"
Despite her snark, no real emotion came from it. Like a mechanical puppet, she will use every method that would bring her a chance of victory, even to the point of mocking her opponent to rouse them to lose their guard.
After all, what's the use of a puppet if they cannot do everything in their power to achieve their Master's goals?
Gilgamesh's glare intensifies, his teeth grinding against one another as portals manifest above him, a unifying formation whose objective is to annihilate her from existence.
"Know your place, mongrel!"
The barrage discharged with great speed, all aiming to pierce her head.
She once again dodges, but the treasury is faster, deadlier, passing through her defences, cutting her body at multiple angles, somehow striking her despite the unpredictability of her movements.
It's as though the weapons are being fired randomly, hitting her by chance rather than precision.
But, this underlays the opportunity. Blinded by his rage, whose focus is on destroying her and her alone, uncaring for his own sake, he's leaving himself exposed to an attack.
And that's what she needs.
She grips her sword, Rengoku, and she speeds through the fabric of space itself.
Boundless from reality, unchained by the abstract concept of space, a complete control and freedom to move freely in all manner of the world itself. An ability given to her throughout her years, honed through deployment after deployment until it's perfected.
One that she will use to her advantage.
Gilgamesh's gaze wanders everywhere, trying to pinpoint her until his instinct flares and he turns-
A pulse, a second, and she appears before his eyes, her sword ready for the final cut, her eyes glinting from the blade's reflection, a killer's gaze.
Then, she swings Rengoku down in a diagonal slash, the air hissing from the blade's edge as it reaches Gilgamesh's neck-!
Only for it to graze against the surface of his skin as chains shot out from portals that quickly manifested, forcing her to retreat.
A frown appears on her lips, a rare case of emotion before she returns back to her former state.
Her chance is now lost. And the King of Heroes is becoming more enraged by the second.
Grasping his neck, a slimmer of blood trailing down, he clutches his fist. The air of authority now replaced by utter wrath.
"This annoying farce has gone on for long enough!"
The King of Heroes yells, a portal manifesting beside him as he keeps her at bay with his projectiles, a golden handle exiting from it. Waiting to be released from its chamber.
He wraps his hand around it and pulls it out. A black column littered with crimson currents akin to circuits now rests in his hand. An immense power emits from it and can be felt with just a glance.
"Be brought back to the useless grave where you came, mongrel-!" He enters a stance, placing the column behind his back as it spins itself. The enormous amount of magical energy swirling around its shape in a suction, each file pulsating and spiralling independent of each other while the ground crack and break from the sheer pressure being extorted, threatening to tear the earth in half-
It's as though heaven and earth are uniting to bring about armageddon to the world itself.
She breathes in as she parries away the treasures, putting herself further away from Gilgamesh and wields her blade tightly, pouring her magical energy into it while black sparks wrap around the sword as it begins to glow brightly.
If he's going all out, so will she.
Her eyes' sharp, focused on the enemy before her. Her magical energy being pushed to its highest limits, the endless barrage of treasures slowing down as the Golden Archer glares her down with utter contempt, the world reshaping itself from the power of his weapon, his drill.
She closes her eyes as she enters her stance, her sword beside her. Breathing deeply, she exhales.
Her silver eyes snap open and the sparks burst into a pillar of darkened light surrounding her blade, a streak of red in the center as it transforms into the greatest extension of her will, her being.
Her Noble Phantasm.
"Die, you wretch!"
Gilgamesh thrusts the drill, and then comes the tidal wave of condensed magical energy ripping apart everything in its path, shredding the fabric of reality itself.
Staring at the impending danger heading towards her, she grips her blade with one hand, sliding her other over the edge and-
"Zekken,"
She thrusts all with her might-
"Mukyusandan!"
Then bellows her Noble Phantasm as the black light beams towards the wave, uncaring for the destruction it wrought in its path.
The two Phantasms collide, crimson and shadow clashing against each other, combining into the mixture of energy while the wave splits itself, creating a whirlwind of devastation that uproots the trees in the surrounding, tearing away the wood, stone, and tiles of the temple itself as both forces try for supremacy.
Saber holds her sword with two hands as she grits her teeth with narrowed eyes, her feet digging into the ground while her hair flails around from the whirling wind while walls of cardinal tide surround her.
Bit by bit, her Noble Phantasm gets beaten back, losing in the scale of power against the reality-tearing influx pushing on with unrelenting outrage.
She pours and pours every bit of magical energy she can muster all to defeat his Noble Phantasm, but it's still not enough - it's never enough.
She can't lose here, not now.
She can't be defeated or else-
Remember our promise, Saber.
Or else… She would not look him in the eyes.
A pulse. Coming from within her chest.
You are a human.
His words, his voice, that night, it's all flowing back to her in an instant, reminding her of everything that's happened.
Human…
The only person who gives her a life, this life beyond the world of blood and death that she's so attuned with for so long, was her Master.
The only person to love her.
The only person to see her as something more.
The only person who she will not let down, no matter what.
The pulsing within her chest intensifies, the mechanism that guided her actions in this fight is now fading.
She will not lose-
She will not falter-
She will not be beaten for his sake-!
In a burst of metaphorical fire, the mechanical methodical engine is now replaced by a human conviction, pulsing with a stream of adrenaline. One that's not guided by any force beyond her control, but her own will.
Emotions return to her, her eyes now bearing the flaming determination of her being, her desire to fulfil her promise no matter what.
Her Noble Phantasm pulsates, reacting to her condition, growing stronger and stronger than before, manifesting into the extension of her human heart, pushing back the crimson tide.
She grips her blade with all her might, wielding it as though her being is now empowered by an unseen force, an invisible entity whose tendrils' syringing into her body, helping her in this moment of struggle, providing her with the strength she needs-
For the world hangs on a thread within this clash.
Her magical energy soars, a roar escaping her lips as she pours every ounce of power into her final attack, stepping forward into the torrent.
Her mind blank, static, her sight losing its vision as only instincts remain, the world reshaping into an white space spanning endlessly, her innermost creation, her universe made manifest.
Her screams unites with the bellowing of her Noble Phantasm as she pushes on to the end, all things losing meaning and colour as she focuses on this one act, one goal, one victory-
Then, the world cracks and shatters as she pierces even the endless void-
And everything returns to its original state with a detonation of wind and energy scattered throughout the area, smoke and dust following its wake.
Amidst a world of swords embedded into the ground akin to graves, craters littered about, light returns to her eyes.
Her breathing ragged, her body a bloodied mess as she regains her bearing, staring down at her feet, watching her life's droplets decorate the soil.
A cough catches her attention, and she looks up.
She sees the Golden Archer's gaze, their lustre gone with his hair dishevelled, blood dripping down his mouth and to his chin, following a single droplet with her eyes and-
She sees her sword ingrained through his chest, the armour broken through with web-like patterns around the puncture, his heart pierced by her blade.
"...To think I would be defeated by you… What a pitiful sight I have become…"
His voice gurgled, grabbing onto her sword with what's left of his strength, peering into her eyes. Resignation swirling within them.
"I suppose that this battle is yours, Saber… and with it, my loss…"
And so, like a dream losing its foot in reality, he fades away into golden dust alongside the graves of old as they scatter from the wind.
She watches on as they dissipate into the atmosphere.
She let out a fog from her lips and limbs to the back of the temple.
She hopes that he's okay.
She turns the corner and there, a repulsive mass of corrupted mud pools underneath a tower, rotting away everything it touches, the Holy Grail hovering above as though it's the absolute with the entrance of hell opened behind it.
And besides it, is her master sitting against a wall while holding a little girl in his arms. Blood and tears litters his body as he turns his head to her, a smile on his lips.
"Saber… you did it."
"Shirou!"
She rushes to his side with her eyes wide, ignoring her pain when she trips down to the ground, placing herself beside him.
"Saber, are you okay?"
"Are you okay? What happened?"
"I'm fine, and… I guess I can say that I won."
He looks ahead and she follows his gaze, a lone cross laying discarded on the soil in front of the cursed pool.
She turns back to him, his eyes peering into her with intent, a faint glow coming from his hand as she looks down, focusing on the singular mark.
It's clear what must be done now.
She lifts herself up and wields Rengoku beside her, staring at the Holy Grail before her, a swirling resolve within her gaze.
Magical energy flows and disperse, entering the base of her blade as she holds it up above her head, the sparks elevating from the hilt to the tip, merging together into a pillar.
"I command you to destroy the Holy Grail."
She turns her head towards Shirou, who nods and opens his mouth to give her the last command.
"Saber, I command you to destroy the Holy Grail once and for all."
And so, she lets out the flame beholden within her Noble Phantasm, and slash downward with a yell.
And with it, the Holy Grail split in half and the light consumed their vision.
As the bright light clears and her vision returns, what lays beyond the destroyed grail is the dawning sun out in the horizon as the wind sways against the green grass of the field, a respite from the war that's loomed over them for days.
A war that was now over with a single slash.
Soft footsteps come up behind her as she turns, Shirou walking towards her while holding the girl, a slight limp in his steps.
Her hair sways and her eyes soften, she strides closer to him. Her hand reached out to touch his cheek, rubbing a finger on a scar imprinted on it, eliciting a slight wince from Shirou.
"It's over now, isn't it?"
"Yes, it has."
Without the Holy Grail to supply her and keep her in this world, this is the last time she'll ever see him. That she'll ever feel him.
Her gaze drops at the thought. Her heart yearns to stay with him, not wanting to be brought back to that slaughter that she loathes, not wanting to return to becoming a puppet, a tool meant to safeguard some systematic order that has to be kept.
She… doesn't want to leave.
"This will be the last time we'll look each other in the eyes. Where I will no longer be of this world."
She clutches her hand, the aching in her chest becoming too much to bear as she peers into his eyes.
"Saber…"
Even then, it was a miracle that she met him in the first place. That out of all the possibilities that could've happened, this was the one that was given to her.
A happiness in a sea of despair.
"I wish I could stay with you. I wish that I could spend more time with you. I wish I could…"
Be human together alongside you. Words that she so wanted to say never escaped her lips, but were conveyed all the same.
She leans in close, a simmer of tears building up in her lids, conjuring up a smile as golden dust forms at her feet, her time ticking.
If she's leaving, then the least she can do is to depart a gift.
Even if it hurts to do so.
"Shirou. Promise me that you will remember me. That anywhere you go, I will still be in your heart."
Their foreheads connect, amber and silver looking upon each other as their breaths fall on one another's skin.
"I promise… Okita."
"Thank you, Shirou. Goodbye."
Her eyes closed as she aligns her head to lock her lips with his even when she turns into stardust, a lingering sensation that will remain until the end.
"Goodbye… Okita."
And so, Shirou watches on as the dust sways in the wind. The day and promise that he will keep in his heart forevermore as a tear trails down his cheek.
Author Note:
Well. It has been a while since I last wrote a note, has it?
Well, no matter. So, about that thing where I said this would only be an one-shot? Turns out I lied.
I had this idea of wanting to update this fic swirling in my mind for quite some time now, so I decided to write it and make this a two-shot sort of story.
It may not be up to your expectations, but I hope you still enjoyed it all the same, despite the rather questionable nature of the fight scene itself that makes up for half the words of this chapter.
Anyway, I have said enough, so i'm off.
Ghost out.