0.2. Beneath the Starless Sky

"Teacher! Teacher! Waston is talking to herself again! "

"Ew, why is she always like that?"

A six-year-old Artoria glanced back, confused as to why her classmates pointed their fingers at her.

"But I'm talking to my friends…?" She replied, looking at two girls by her side. ∎∎∎∎'s pale blue hair glittered beautifully under the sunlight as always, while her gentle golden eyes seemed to carry all the patience in the world. The other, ∎∎∎∎∎∎, had matching purple hair and eyes and were much, much smaller. She was only about the same side of an adult's palm. Artoria once heard her explaining she was like this because each time she granted a wish, her body would be whittled away until she became too small to see.

Whenever Artoria asked whose wish she had granted, ∎∎∎∎∎∎ would simply answer "You are too young to know" with a cheeky smirk, which always seemed a bit more rueful than usual.

"Liar! There is no one there!" That one boy yelled again whilst Artoria puffed her cheeks. His shrill voice was annoying but she kept it to herself. The last time she said it, ∎∎∎∎∎∎ offered to destroy his vocal cords so that Artoria didn't have to hear it ever again. As tempting as it sounded, they would get into big trouble if her friend had done so.

Besides, he never won against Artoria anyway. She could wrestle him down the ground like the last time he tried to hit her.

"I'm not lying! Lying is bad! Artoria wouldn't lie!" Artoria retorted. The boy immediately shied away when she stomped her foot. Grandy strictly warned her that lying was for bad kids. Artoria was a good kid so she had made a pinky promise never to lie.

"Then admit you were talking to yourself!" said the other kid. That girl always told the others to reject Artoria whenever she asked to play with them. Because of that, she hardly had any classmates to talk to even though it was midterm.

Still, her friends had always been here for her so Artoria wasn't too sad.

"NO! I was talking to my friends! Can't you see them?!" Artoria shouted back, face reddened in anger. It frustrated her to no end. People kept saying she was a liar while she did not. Why didn't they understand?!

Seeing that Artoria was close to bursting into tears, ∎∎∎∎ patted her head, trying to calm her down. The gentle warmth on her hand was comforting. Meanwhile, ∎∎∎∎∎∎ glared daggers at those other kids. A vicious snarl marbled her pretty face.

With a snap of her fingers, a strong gust of wind shoved all of them. The two other little brats in particular, were kept in the air before getting dropped face down to the ground. Their lips were slit, and blood flowed from their nose and mouth. Immediately, the kids scrambled away. But tree roots burst from the ground, holding their ankles, not letting any of them escape. Terror screams filled the playground, only to fuel ∎∎∎∎∎∎'s glee giggle further.

Artoria for her part, couldn't share the same joy as her friend. She felt terrible, her hands clutched tightly on ∎∎∎∎ 's white dress. Noticing her distress, ∎∎∎∎ hugged her close, but made no move to stop the other.

"Pl– Please stop!" Unable to take it anymore, Artoria begged. ∎∎∎∎∎∎ halted, exchanging a brief glance with the other, who also had a troubled look, before pouting.

"Are you sure, Arty? They just bullied you."

Artoria bounced her head up and down. Those children might not have been good to her, but she never wished for them to be harmed. With a beguiling expression, ∎∎∎∎∎∎ snapped her finger and the roots gave away.

The moment they were released, the kids ran as fast as they could, bawling their eyes out.

"Uwahh…! A ghost! Waston is talking to a ghost!"

"Yo- You freak! Freak! Stay a-away! "

"Mommy-y! Watson h-hit me again!"

∎∎∎∎∎∎ scoffed at their words. However, a look at Artoria's teary face, she let out a sigh. Her green wings seemed to drop as she settled on Artoria's shoulder, patting her cheek in an attempt to comfort her.

"There, there, you crybaby." Contrary to her huffing, ∎∎∎∎∎∎ softened her face. "You are too nice. This is why they kept picking on you."

Artoria just sniffed. The warmth from her friends no longer brought her comfort.

:::::::

"Your teacher called me again."

Artoria shuffled her feet under the hard gaze of her father. As soon as she got home, he demanded she be in his office. Artoria hated it. She always hated this room. It was dark even though the sun was still high in the sky. The only window inside her father's office was always closed and the sound would bounce off the wall whenever her father shouted.

Her friends also hated this room, so they never set foot in there. With her mother not home today, it damped Artoria's mood more.

There was no one defending her now.

"Artoria, how long are you intending to do this?" Her father stated. Artoria silently watched him rubbing his forehead through the gaps of her bang. "You can't use imaginary friends as an excuse after hitting your classmate. You are too big for that."

"B-But, I didn't hit them! It was ∎∎–"

"ENOUGH!"

Artoria cowered the moment her father slammed his fist down the table. He clutched his head, gripping a hand full of his hair. "Enough of this nonsense! Why can't you just stop, Artoria!? You are giving everyone the creeps! I'm already getting tired of your delusion! Now people keep calling me a failure because I can't educate my own daughter…! Why can't you be normal?! Just what must I do for you to stop lying?!"

"But Artoria wasn't lying…" Artoria sniffled, not knowing what else to say. She stared at her feet. Her words were deaf to her father who mumbled [ begged ] for her to stop under his breath. Big fat tears kept rolling out from her eyes. Artoria didn't mean to make him upset, really. She had tried her best to be a good girl. Yet, she failed.

[ Why can't you be normal?! ]

"Normal". "Normal". "Normal".

Just what was she supposed to do to be "normal"...?

:::::::

Artoria slaps both hands on her cheeks, and cringes from the pain.

Ok… Calm down. Breath in. Breath out. She's still alive. That's good. She has something to count on. She can work it out from here… maybe.

Artoria lets out a sigh. It's hard to be positive in this godforsaken situation, but what other choice does she get? Somehow, she is struck in the past, where nothing is like what she heard from her grandfather or her master.

First, the city shouldn't be on fire. The battles between participants were destructive, yes, but certainly not to the point the whole city was wasted. Artoria does remember she used to say she wanted to visit her master's hometown someday, and this is far from what she imagined.

Second, if this is the 2004 Holy Grail war, the Servant is … incorrect. She is talking about the skull mask whom she wagers as the [Assassin]. He was supposed to be a Kungfu master of sorts. Yet, that black from head to toe lanky man looks nothing like a Kungfu master to her. And since this may be a Holy Grail war, there's no way she'd venture out just for the sake of verifying the rest of the Servants' identities.

Now, comes to her last problem…

Artoria glances down at the red marks on her hand with reluctance. She has recognized those are Command Seals. She isn't sure if a temporary substitute candidate means to have them, but there will be a lot of people (read: Olga Marie Animusphere) unhappy with this. And before that, it also means that fox lady may actually be her Servant, her only means of protection, her sword and shield, and the one she just got separated from in the middle of a bloody Holy Grail war.

Artoria slaps a hand on her face and drags it down.

This day just keeps getting better and better, she swears. So for the sake of her remaining sanity, she pushes those issues aside and focuses on what caused such a dramatic change to the war her grandfather and her master had joined in…? She only hopes it isn't because of her presence here.

Olga's voice comes back to her.

"The singularity we found doesn't exist in any of our observation records. It's like a hole that just appeared out of nowhere. The hole itself is cut off from the proper temporal axis! The 2004 singularity exists apart from the past and future. There's no need to connect it to our present. It's more stable than regular time travel, and whatever happens, the timeline can still repair itself..."

Artoria's eyes open wide. Doesn't that mean…

This 2004… This version of 2024 has nothing to do with her world [present]! She didn't accidentally mess up the past or anything! Artoria silently thanked Olga for giving a decent answer despite looking like she wanted to throttle her on the spot.

:::::::

" Achoo… !" Echoes a sneeze somewhere on the other side of the city.

"Are you cold, Director?"

"It's certainly remarkable to be cold in this heat."

"Shut up! How dare a Servant criticize me!"

:::::::

Chuckling to herself, Artoria feels like an idiot for fretting over nothing. Though she admits, It has petrified her for a second to think there might be a past version of her grandfather or her master somewhere in the city of flame.

Alright, peachy. Everything is fine.

….

NOOOOO. LIKE HELL IT IS! Nothing is FINE! Artoria slams her fists down the floor. She is still stuck in the past! Alone. Without a means to protect herself, in the middle of a Holy Grail war!

Hold on…

She can still try to contact Chaldea! Gudako explained running by a special technique, the terminal given to each Master candidate allows them to communicate with the headquarters no matter the era they were in. Brimming with hope, Artoria raises her hand.

Only to see an empty wrist.

The terminal was gone. It must have been lost during the explosion back in the Command Room.

Artoria collapses on all fours. It's hopeless, isn't it? It's like a higher will is in play, toying with her feelings, giving her hope only to snatch it away…

Wait…

If this was an official mission, then the other candidates must be here, too! She can try to find them and—

A chill suddenly runs down Artoria's spine. In her mind rings one word.

Danger!

Artoria leaps forward when a long arm bursts through the heater behind her. She rolls along the floor and immediately scrambles on her feet to see a floating skull mask amidst the cloud of dust. As expected of an Assassin, she hardly sensed him. If not for the Boulder Field, Artoria is unable to imagine what has become of her now.

Pulling out the cutleries she found in the kitchen, Artoria flings the reinforced objects toward the Assassin. While most of them are swatted off by the man, some nail his coat to the floor, creating a small opening for her to dash out into the hall–

Artoria skips to a halt as another large black-skinned man crashes down from the ceilings, almost crushing her in the process. Instinct kicking in, she bounces back, barely in time to avoid two axes sliding her body into halves. Artoria spins around, but her escape way is blocked yet again by the masked man, whose arm collides with her midsection and sends her flying through the wall to the next room.

"Cough, cough..kk!" Dropping down from the dent on the wall, Artoria hacks. A copper taste fills her mouth. Had it not for the Reinforcement spell she strengthened beforehand, everything inside her stomach would have turned into mush.

"I didn't expect there's some left. A survivor!" The man carrying axes speaks up, showing his golden teeth. Under the white cloth wrapping his head without obstructing the horns, a pair of eyes gleam with insanity. The man sniffs the air and licks his lips hungrily. "Impulses with magic energy no less. With this, the Grail shall be ours! Right, Assassin?"

"... I don't care. The heart. It's mine." The masked man replies with monotony. His invisible eyes fixate on Artoria, or more precisely, the thing that is beating frantically inside her chest.

"Hahahaha! Suit yourself."

Through her swaying vision, Artoria watches them enclosing her. A warning bell keeps tingling inside her head but she can't shift even the tip of her fingers. Everything hurts so much.

…Maybe it'd be better to just accept her fate. They're outnumbering her anyway.

Just as Artoria thinks it can't be worse, that familiar, accursed sound echoes in her ears. Immediately, a familiar buzz washes over her body. Artoria can't help but groan in feeble frustration. Of course, that obnoxious sniper would never let the others have all the fun, would they?

Neither of those idiots has yet noticed their incoming doom, too distracted with the prey in front of them. Shutting her eyes, Artoria braces herself.

–Come to think of it, wasn't that sound just like the sound of a bowstring being pulled?

Right on the clue, crimson arrows rain down on them, thoroughly wrecking the whole mansion. The floor shakes and groans under the impact. Finally, it snaps, plunging everything on it into the darkness.

:::::::

Artoria moans in pain as she claws out from beneath the debris and rubbles. She thinks she might have blacked out for a few minutes or so. It's hard to tell what is what when her head feels like it just gained a few extra pounds and her limbs ache each time she moves. She barely understands how she survived. The closest answer Artoria can come up with is she somehow fell between the cracks in the rubble and avoided being crushed beneath.

She is either very blessed or cursed. Someone should give her a Nobel prize already for managing to stay alive this far.

Popping her head out of the debris, Artoria coughs the dust out of her lungs and welcomes the fresh air. Her vision is blurred by dirt and tears, which she later wishes that she shouldn't have wiped away.

Scratch that. Artoria should have laid still under the rubble because right now, her stomach churns at the sight before her.

The skull mask, or the remains of his body after arrows punched holes in it, is disintegrating into a cloud of black mass. Looking past it, Artoria sees the other Servant being forced onto his knees with twin blades resting on his neck. Both of his arms have been minced past the elbow and blood is oozing from various wounds on his body.

"Uek–!" Artoria slaps a hand on her mouth before she may throw up, or accidentally makes more noise. Blood roars in her ears. She is sure this is something she shouldn't witness.

She just dropped into a lair full of beasts devouring each other, and got herself a front-seat view at that.

"Archer, you bastard…! How dare you betray us?! Betray the King?!" The Servant hisses. Behind him answers a grunt voice, coldly.

"I don't remember swearing my loyalty to anyone. But I do remember warning you lots to stay away from my territory."

With that, the blades crosscut the man's neck. Some of his blood splashes on Artoria's terrified face, warm and slick. She has to use all her might not to scream when the head bounces on the ground and rolls close to where she sits.

That Servant, who looked so big and scary to her a few minutes ago, now headless crumpled down on the ground, slowly fading into oblivion. Artoria knows she has to flee, asap, but her whole body is petrified.

The sound of footsteps echoes in the deafening silence. An armored boot enters Artoria's vision, rusted and sprinkled in the disintegrating black blood. Shakingly, she moved her eyes up…

Breath hitches in her throat.

Why does every villain have to be so hot ?!

Artoria slaps herself, mentally. What the heck is she thinking at this crucial moment?! Even if this man is tall, and tanned, and has a good figure, he just killed a man in cool blood! Sure, his white hair may seem to shine under the pale light and looks so soft to the touch—

Artoria punches herself, hard, hard to the point the said killer halts in his tracks and blinks at her.

Snap out of it, Artoria, she growls at herself. The stinging pain on her cheek really helps her anchor her sanity, though… gosh, she should have reduced the strength behind that punch.

Rubbing the tender skin, Artoria whimpers a little. Unbeknownst to her, the man is studying her in a way she would have squirmed under his intense gaze had she noticed. His mismatched eyes, one tinted silver while the other completely inked with a golden iris like a moon, glimmer.

"...I can't believe it. Even with my damn eyes, I still can't believe it."

A low murmur drags Artoria back. She turns to the man, involuntarily taking in the angry red veins crawling from his neck to right under the black eye, leaving an impression of a crackling surface.

"So there's a world where "you " are possible… It makes me wonder if there also exists an "I " who didn't fuck up his life!" The man raises his head and cracks up, almost hysterically. The laughter grates Artoria's ears. "Gosh, how hilarious that would be…! Hey, what would your name be?"

"A… Artoria. It's Artoria Waston." She fumbles over her words, caught off guard by his sudden question. The man regards Artoria for a few seconds before a faint chuckle leaves his lips.

"... So that's it, huh."

And he falls silent. Despite a faint smirk lingering at the corner of his lip, a pensive, almost rueful, look marbles his features. Artoria purses her lips. The direction where this conversation is heading confuses her. So… should she find a way to get out of here now or what?

Probably the former.

When Artoria sneaks a look around for a way to escape, the man suddenly speaks up.

"You're finally free [saved]." His voice is barely above a whisper. "Why did you come [return] here?"

Huh? That stops Artoria. She ogles up at him, perplexed why he spoke with her with such familiarity. Under the shadow of his white bang, his expression is unclear. The man is looking at her, but his mismatched eyes aren't meeting hers. In fact, he appears to look past her at someone else, someone only he can see.

Uneasiness grows inside Artoria. Okay, he may be handsome but this is creeping her out. She fights back the urge to glance over her shoulder. However, before she can do so, his next words give her goosebumps.

"It almost makes me feel bad to kill you now."

-Welp, he makes no sense, at all.

With a spur of newfound strength, Artoria scrambles away on all fours when the man comes at her like a mad lad. The shockwave, along with the booming sound of bustling rubble, tosses her rolling.

"I have wondered why Assassin and Rider kept following you around like pests. They were drawn by your blood [magical energy]… Nevertheless, I was able to remove two nuisances thanks to it."

Artoria swears, all these Servants have lost their damn minds. No one here knows how to hold a conversation so far! One moment she hears the man snort, the next thing she knows, there is a blade planting itself onto the wall right before her face, just an inch away. On the white blade's surface, Artoria watches her pale reflection swallowing dryly. She hurries to turn around, and inevitably meets a dead end. The basement is already cramped without all the piles of rubble and debris lying around and the walls are too high for her to climb up.

There is simply no place for her to run.

"Where do you think you are going? Out there is nothing but a sea of flame"

Artoria's shoulders stiffen. His voice is close. Slowly, she turns to face the man standing a few steps away from her. The remaining black blade flashes cold, deadly light in his hand.

"You humans are too unfit for any greater cause." The man shakes his head from side to side, sighing. "Yet, here you are. Does your pride matter that much? You should have just stayed home."

And the room is abruptly quiet.

The tremble on Artoria's body stops. Her vision tunnels a man whose eyebrows arch at something [her] he is seeing. The man, who has the nerve to say she wanted to be [suffer] in this hellhole is for her pride, while she has yet to be able to find out why she is here.

:::::::

"Why do you keep making yourself different from others? Do you want to be noticed that much?! "

" Do you know that girl? She's always so full of herself and looks down on the rest of us."

"Waston? You mean the halfwit that always swings a sword around? I think her inner woman is dead. Like, is she even a girl?"

"Hey, did you hear? Waston beat a group of boys in the next class yesterday. How can she be so violent?"

"Oh, just let her be. She doesn't need any help. We're only bothering her."

"Waston is in our group? Cool! She can do everything on her own. I'm sure we can leave the whole project for her without worrying."

"Her friend? Pfft, please, it's just a precaution. I mean, if we were on familiar terms, she wouldn't hit me with that thing on her shoulder, right?

"I never see her with anyone. She must prefer to be alone."

"Don't bother, she just hates people in general, like, have you ever seen her smile nicely for once?"

"¡ǝɟıן ɹnoʎ ɟo ʇsǝɹ ǝɥʇ ɹoɟ ǝuoןɐ ɟןǝsɹnoʎ puıɟ ןןıʍ noʎ puɐ ɹoıʌɐɥǝq sıɥʇ dn dǝǝʞ ʇsnɾ"

:::::::

Those voices. Those distinct voices [tone of voice] Artoria has heard over and over a thousand times. They keep echoing, overlapping, spinning inside her head until…

Something inside her snaps.

"...What do you know about me?"

"Pardon?" The man frowns at the change in her tone.

"I asked." Artoria grits out, her eyes turning daggers. "What do you know about me to say I wanted this? What fickin' hell made you so sure that I wished any of this? Just to sate my pride? Excuse me, Mr. nobody, you know not a shit about me. Even my respected father knows nothing about me! Or do I just appear insane to you?!"

Those people. They are always the same. None of them bothered to learn anything about the other. Yet they kept assuming things like they knew all about them.

Isn't it just ridiculous?

"Listen here. I should have died by now. Hell, I should have died several times today but I did not! Even I asked myself how I am still alive!" Arotria doesn't remember how she got up on her feet. But when she realizes, she is poking the man in the chest. "So is that my fault? Is that really my fault for staying alive?! Because I'm pretty sure it ain't! My only one biggest fault in this is that I didn't tell you people to fuck off sooner!"

There is no sound inside the basement save for Artoria's heavy panting. The man gawks at her, too stunned to form a reply. Honestly, that stupefy look on his face only makes her blood boil further. Artoria bets not once he gave thought to it since the other's [her] misery must be so entertaining to him.

"Where are you going?" The man asks when she unceremoniously brushes past him.

"Find a weapon." Artoria growls, digging into the rubble. "Didn't you just say there is no place for me to run? If that's the case, I should at least punch someone's face before I kick the bucket. Better that than running around headless, right?"

She gives the pile she found a testing swing. A bit too light, but this will do. Artoria has half a mind to consider taking the man's white blade. However, its length is too short for her and she doesn't want to touch his things.

"I see… Now, this is more like it." Catching her intention, the man smirks. He twirls the blade in his hand. "It's unlike you to give up so easily. Then again, I hope you're aware of what you are getting at."

Artoria ignores his taunt and settles in the stance at the same time with him. That man won't be able to keep that smirk any longer anyway.

"The moment you underestimate your opponent is the moment you die." A wise man, aka her grandfather, once said.

Without warning, she darts into his guard, using magical energy to boost her speed. The reinforced pipe, which is harder than steel, sails straight at the man's throat. Eyes enlarged, he gets a fragment of a second to deflect Artoira's lethal blow. But she isn't done yet. Slacking her wrist, she lets the pipe be pushed away for a suitable angle to come down his knee.

Reflexive, the man leaps back and makes his second mistake. As soon as his center staggers slightly, Artoria thrusts the pipe into his solar plexus, hard enough to knock him back a few steps.

"Dang. That one hell of a move." The man gruffs as she also leaps back to keep her distance. His voice indicates he is more amused than in pain. "Three strikes, all fatal. Risky, but a smart tactic to overwhelm stronger opponents… Say, Artoira, who taught you to fight?"

"My grandfather." Artoria replies, pressing down any nervousness that may show up.

"Is he a veteran by any chance?"

"How did you…?!"

The man chuckles at her gasp. "Your steps may have some grace in them, but they still reek of crude fighting. Since your offense is deemed good enough, what about your defense?"

Her only warning is the hair at the back of her head standing up. Artoria ducks aside, barely avoiding a stab to the chest at a speed she can't hope to outpace. In return, she instantly swings her pipe up to the man's chin to create a gap for her to skip away. She understands she can't let her guard down for even a second or it would be her last.

Yes, Artoria may make a big deal about it. Still, talk and do are two different things. Since the start, she has had to strain her already tattered body to keep up the fight. This just shows how cruel reality is. The gap of strength between humans and Servants is simply too great to be covered with just willpower and reinforcement alone.

That won't stop her from trying, though.

"Tell me. You must understand by now you can't win by now. So why do you keep resisting?" The man inquiries, gesturing to each labored breath she is taking.

"I told you. If I'm going to die today, I have to at least give you one punch in the face first."

"Do you hate me that much?" snorts the man who sniped the hell out of her an hour ago.

"You have to ask?!" With a cry, Artoria breaks into his guard once more, catching him by surprise with her bold choice. While the hardest thing to do in a normal fight is to detect an opening, it, ironically, isn't even a problem when she faces this man.

No matter how Artoira sees it, the man before her is full of openings. It isn't like he is careless, nor doesn't bother to cover his exposure out of pride. He purposely leaves himself out open to lure his opponent in.

Since he has sent out the invitation, it's only right for her to take it, right?

"A knight wins by defeating the opponent, a soldier wins by surviving the fight, and a sniper wins by selecting targets of opportunity." Her grandfather's first lesson that Artoria has learned by heart echoes in her mind. "But we are both a soldier and a sniper, Artoria. We are hunters."

"And a hunter wins by striking first." She mutters. Weaving between his strikes, Artoria performs another four swift hits and then skips out of the range before the man can recover to encounter her. Sweat clings on her forehead. Although it's frustrating the man managed to deflect her attack since he slowly got used to her style, Artoria thinks it's enough for a warning that he's picked the wrong girl to use such a tactic.

"Interesting... So you make up for what you lack with your sharp intuition. And that precise control of magical energy flow isn't something anyone can do." The man hums, seeming oddly pleased as they circle each other.

"Flattering me now won't make it any different." Artoria huffs before lifting her makeshift weapon to block a heavy swing coming from above…However, she has an inkling that the heat on her cheeks isn't merely from the battle.

"Am I? I merely state the fact." The man says with a chuckle while grinding his blade down on her pipe. "Admittedly, you two are completely different people, but I can see something remains the same. It seems even in this life, your old man has either forgotten to teach you, or he also couldn't help it."

The statement immediately sets off an alarm inside Artoria, but she covers it with a scowl. Ducking the pipe down to make the black blade slide down off it, she spins, borrowing the momentum for a counter.

Only for her knee to choose the exact moment to give out.

Artoria's heart flops to her stomach. Never would she expect the answer to her unspoken question to come in the form of a novice mistake. The adrenaline may help her forget about how bad shape her body is but it can't improve her condition. That's why this man– this jerk never presses his attack. He doesn't need to.

He simply waited for a bit and Artoria would self-destruct.

"That's right. You were always so fixated on your goal that you forsake yourself."

Following that remake, the ruthless blade slits down her chest.

A wet, slick sound echoes in Artoira's ears as her skin is torn open. She chokes. Her knees hit the ground and her grip slackens, allowing the pipe to drop with a harmless clatter.

She… lost.

She lost, for real. No more devil luck other than an intolerable pain wracks through Artoria's body. Her mind seems to blank out along with the amount of blood gushing out of her chest. She can see her life beginning to flash before her eyes.

Nothing can save her anymore.

A strangled snort leaves her lips. It isn't like Artoria hoped she would somehow win against a Servant when she challenged the man. If anything, you can count this as a pointless defiant act, her last attempt to rebel against whatever has forced her into this situation. Still…

Artoria gazes up at her beautiful executor through her haze vision.

She had fun.

She can't remember how long it was since she last felt like this.

"You look happy." The man remarks, no question, no judgment.

"I was… able to go all out…" is her answer. Truly, aside from the disgusting copper taste inside her mouth, Artoria is… content. She has tried her best, tried everything she could to survive while it was easier to just drop dead.

It's only fair for her to rest now.

A blurred shade of white like that of a moon enters her vision. Instictically, Artoria traces it with her eyes. Although barely focused now, she wonders what the meaning of the wistfulness on the man's face is. He has that same expression a few times during their fight, the one he doesn't seem to realize he was making.

This man is kind, Artoria thinks. There's no malice in his actions. Unlike those maniacs thirsty for her blood back then, this man takes her life because it's his job, something he has to do. She can't fault him for that.

Or she is just biased? Some people develop Stockholm syndrome at the strangest times. Perhaps, she is one of them.

Her life continues to replay in her mind until it stops at a particular memory.

:::::::

"Artoria, the moment you were born as a magus, you are no longer a " normal " person... "

She couldn't remember what her grandfather's face was when he said that, but his voice was low, a bit forlorn, and the hand patting her head was really gentle.

"But it doesn't mean you will be alone for the rest of your life. One day, you will meet someone, someone who loves you more than we do. Someone who will be there for you even though you are different."

"... like grandma to you?"

"Yes, like your grandmother to me." He chuckled slightly. "So don't don't lose hope, Artoria. I'm sure there will be someone seeing you for who you are, and staying with you forever… They are just somewhere out there, waiting for you."

:::::::

To be frank, she sort of… gave up on that said "hope " a long time ago.

Artoria is a coward at heart. If she stopped hopping, it would feel less sad and lonely [it would be normal].

Or so she believed.

Since she is special [abnormal], Artoria told herself to accept it. She should be quiet [normal] and not bother anyone. It's not like there is any person who would want to approach her.

And it's not like she ever thought of reaching out to anyone, either.

However, she isn't just a coward, but also a greedy one.

While afraid of getting hurt, deep down, she still craves to know what it is like to have someone take care of her, and never let her go. Therefore, there is no more suitable ending for a greedy coward like her than this. Artoria gazes up at the man. He may be the first, and probably the last, one outside her family proactively to seek her out. Even if he just wants to toy with [kill] her.

"Hey, If… possible, would you…" The syllables form on her parched lips on their own. "Would you… stay with me…? Forever?"

The man blinks. Something seems to flicker in his eyes, too fast for her to catch on. His lips are pressed into a thin line. Despite the dizziness from blood loss, Artoria thinks she heard a barely audible "yes".

She smiles.

There, isn't it easy? Once she arrives in her next life, she will make sure to remember this. Artoira closes her eyes the moment the blade in the man's hand is brought down.

And snaps them open a second later when a circle of light flares up beneath two of them.

Abruptly, a strong current of arcane wind swirls up inside the basement. Startled, the man tries to jump away, only to get refrained by chains of light bursting out from the circle. Not faring any better, Artoria hisses in pain and clutches her hand. Her Command Seals are burning up. If she didn't know any better, she would think she was marked by a hot branding iron.

The phenomenon lasts a few seconds, but to Artoria, and maybe that man, too, it might last for hours. Listless, her body falls to the side with a dull thud.

She… gives up.

That's the only thing left in her throbbing head. She is physically and emotionally tired. Whatever comes next, Artoria doesn't care anymore.

She already achieved an ending, perfect and all. So goddammit, why can't she even be allowed to die?!

"How…"

In her vertical vision, her partner in misery keeps turning his hands, closing and opening them again and again. The look on his face matches the look of a deer caught in the headlights. Artoria would burst into laughter if she isn't so damned tired. She then notices the man's clothes have changed. He looks… downgraded, to be honest. His black top grew longer with a tattered tail to replace the red coat around his waist, while the red veins under his inked sclera turned black as though they were dried.

Eventually, the man turns toward her. It surprises Artoria how his face could be that expressive.

"Just what the hell did you do?"

That's something I'd like to know, too.

"I'mma cry." comes out instead

"...huh?"

The dam behind her eyes breaks.

Honestly, fighting screen is a real pain in the arse to write. Since I have no beta reader, please bear it with me.