The air in the cavern was thick with tension, almost suffocating, yet the two warriors at the center of it remained unnervingly calm. For any observer, the sight would have been nerve-wracking—a pair of deadly foes, locked in a silent standoff, each waiting for the other to make a move that could decide their fate. But to Saber and Berserker, the pressure that would have broken lesser beings was a familiar companion, a part of the battlefield they had long since made peace with.
For Saber, who had just moments ago been teetering on the edge of despair, there was a surprising clarity in the stillness. She had managed to regain her composure, and it was thanks to the very weapon that had brought her to this dire state—the spear that Berserker had used to cripple her.
That spear, though now a source of her suffering, was also a reminder of something greater. Before Berserker had unleashed his devastating attack, the sight of the spear in his hands had sparked a surge of anger within her, a burning rage at seeing such an iconic weapon, one belonging to a knight she deeply respected, being wielded by a madman. How Berserker had acquired it, she didn't know, but the memories of the knight who had once wielded that spear flooded her mind, and with them came a renewed sense of purpose.
"I will not dishonor you, Knight of Fianna,"* Saber thought with steely resolve. She could not, would not, allow herself to be defeated so easily, not while the legacy of a fellow knight was at stake. The rage she felt was more than just anger—it was fuel, a driving force that burned away the despair that had threatened to consume her. She would not allow herself to fall into the abyss, not when she could still fight.
Now, with her mind clear, Saber began to assess her situation with cold, analytical precision. It wasn't good, but she had faced worse.
Her left eye was useless, shattered in the explosion, leaving her with only half her vision. Her left arm was crippled, the shoulder torn apart by Berserker's brutal assault. The muscle was ripped, the bone damaged; even the slightest movement sent waves of pain through her body. Her left leg was still impaled by one of Berserker's blades, making it a struggle just to stand, let alone move swiftly. Running was out of the question. But despite all this, she still had the strength to fight. She could still kill him.
"If I can just get close enough… one clean strike…"* Saber's thoughts raced as she considered her options. Berserker was injured as well, the deep gash across his chest slowing him down, hindering his movements. If she could close the distance and strike with all her remaining strength, she could end this. His wound made sure of that. All she had to do was dash forward with her good leg and behead him.
And then there was her connection with Kiritsugu. Despite everything, she could still feel it, a thin but unbroken thread that tied her to her Master. He was alive, somewhere, possibly injured or missing, but alive nonetheless. That was enough for her. *"Stay alive, Kiritsugu. Just a little longer. I'll bring you the Grail, and you'll see… my path is the right one."*
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips at the thought, a rare moment of personal satisfaction amidst the grim reality of her situation. It was a petty thought, perhaps, but it was enough to keep her moving, to push her forward despite the pain, despite the exhaustion. She would see this through to the end.
On the other side of the cavern, Berserker was equally calm, though for entirely different reasons. His mind, dulled by the madness of his summoning, was focused solely on the task at hand: defeating Saber. There was no room for anything else—no pain, no fear, no hesitation. His sole purpose was victory, and every fiber of his being was bent toward that goal.
He watched Saber intently, his gaze never wavering, waiting for the slightest hint of movement that would give him the opening he needed. He ignored the burning pain of the wound across his chest, the blood that still flowed freely from the gash. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the moment Saber made a mistake, the moment she left herself vulnerable. In that instant, he would strike, and this battle would finally be over.
The two warriors stood in their impasse, the air between them charged with anticipation. The tension was palpable, the atmosphere so thick it was almost suffocating.
Saber tightened her grip on Excalibur, feeling the familiar weight of the sword in her hand. *"Just one move… that's all it will take."* Her good eye narrowed as she focused on Berserker, watching his every move, waiting for the moment he would act.
Berserker's hands clenched tightly around the bow and sword-arrow, his aim unwavering as his gaze remained locked onto Saber. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the faint, ragged sound of their labored breathing. Both warriors were exhausted, teetering on the brink of collapse, but neither dared to make the first move.
Inwardly, Berserker cursed his circumstances. He had hoped to use a much more powerful weapon, something that would end Saber in a single, decisive blow. But his current condition, combined —not anymore. The battle had taken its toll, and now, all he could do was wait for the right moment to strike.
"Tch… damn it,"* Berserker thought, frustration gnawing at him. His instincts screamed for action, for the overwhelming force he was known for, but he knew that recklessness now would only lead to his defeat.
Saber, too, was aware of the precarious balance they were in. She could see the tension in Berserker's stance, the readiness in his posture. He was waiting for an opening, just as she was. Any misstep, any slight movement, could tip the scales. She tightened her grip on Excalibur, her knuckles white as she prepared herself mentally for what was to come.
"He's not attacking… Why?"* Saber's mind raced as she analyzed the situation. From experience she knew that Berserker's usual strategy was to overwhelm his opponents with sheer brutality and efficiency, yet now he was holding back. And that hesitation told her something important—he was running low on options, just as she was.
The realization didn't bring her comfort, but it did give her a sliver of hope. If Berserker was in such a state that he couldn't afford to expend more energy, then perhaps she still had a chance. But to take that chance, she would need to be smart, to be patient. She couldn't afford to rush in and fall into his trap.
Berserker could feel the weight of the sword-arrow in his hand, the tension in the bowstring as he held it ready. It wasn't the weapon he would have chosen for this final confrontation, but it would have to suffice. *"Come on… just give me one opening,"* he willed silently, his eyes never leaving Saber. He needed her to make a mistake, to falter just long enough for him to release the arrow.
But Saber wasn't moving, wasn't giving him anything to work with. She was too experienced, too skilled to be goaded into a reckless charge. He could see the calculation in her eyes, the way she was weighing her options just as he was.
The air between them was thick with tension, every second feeling like an eternity as they stood on the edge of the abyss. Both knew that the next move could be their last, that there would be no second chances.
'Damn it, Kiritsugu…' Saber thought bitterly, her thoughts briefly turning to her Master.
'You better have a plan after this.' She couldn't afford to lose here, not when everything they had fought for was on the line. But as much as she hated to admit it, Berserker was just as formidable as she was, if not more so.
Berserker's focus never wavered. Despite the pain coursing through his body, despite the fatigue that threatened to drag him down, he kept his aim steady. He had faced countless foes before, but Saber was different. She wasn't just a powerful opponent; she was a knight, a warrior of the highest caliber, and he had to respect that.
But respect wouldn't save him. Victory was the only thing that mattered, and he would do whatever it took to achieve it.
With one hand on the edge of the ravine, a man drag himself up after climbing the wall of the cavern.
Kiritsugu's hope was dashed, his dream shattered beyond recognition. The path he had followed for so long, the one he had believed would lead to salvation, had been ruthlessly mocked and proven wrong by the very thing he sought to control. The Holy Grail, the relic of unimaginable power, had revealed its true nature—a twisted force that could only grant his wish by destroying the world he had fought so hard to protect.
Yet, despite the devastation within his heart, Kiritsugu made one final decision. He would destroy the Grail itself.
The world could not be saved by the Grail; it would only be consumed by its darkness. And if he could not use it to bring about justice, then he could not allow anyone else to risk unleashing its destructive potential. The Grail had to be destroyed, for the sake of humanity.
With each step forward, Kiritsugu's determination grew firmer. But alongside it, a deep sense of guilt gnawed at him, a heavy weight pressing down on his soul. He had dedicated his life to the pursuit of a dream that had now turned to ashes, and in doing so, he had dragged others into his futile crusade.
'I have to apologize to Saber,' he thought, the realization cutting through him like a knife.
Saber, the King of Knights, had stood by his side, driven by her own ideals of justice and righteousness. She had trusted him, fought for him, even when she disagreed with his methods. And now, after everything, it was clear that she had been right all along.
'I was wrong,' Kiritsugu admitted to himself, the words bitter in his mind. "She saw what I refused to see. She understood the true nature of my dream, and I…"
His thoughts trailed off as the enormity of his failure sank in. How many lives had been lost, how much blood had been spilled, all in the pursuit of a goal that had never been attainable? He had been blind, stubbornly clinging to a dream that could only lead to ruin.
Kiritsugu's steps slowed as he neared the battlefield where Saber and Berserker clashed. The sight of Saber, wounded and battered but still standing, only deepened his sense of guilt. She had endured so much, sacrificed so much, all for a cause that he now knew was a lie.
"Saber…" he whispered, the words almost lost in the din of battle. "I'm sorry."
But he couldn't stop now. He couldn't allow himself to be consumed by regret. There was still one last act he could perform in the name of justice, one final attempt to make things right. The Grail had to be destroyed, and he would be the one to do it, no matter the cost.
As he tightened his grip on his weapon, Kiritsugu's resolve hardened. He would face Saber soon enough, and when he did, he would confess his failure, his misjudgment. But for now, he had to focus on the task at hand—the destruction of the Holy Grail.
The path he had chosen was one of sacrifice, of doing whatever it took to achieve his goals. And now, as he prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, Kiritsugu could only hope that it would be enough to atone for his mistakes.
"Forgive me, Saber," he thought, a silent prayer as he moved forward. "For dragging you into this… and for failing you."
His eyes fixed on the distant Grail, Kiritsugu felt a cold resolve settle over him. He would do whatever it took to ensure that the Grail could never threaten the world again. Even if it meant destroying his own dream, even if it meant admitting that he had been wrong from the start.
With a final, determined step, Kiritsugu prepared to confront the Grail—and to end the nightmare once and for all.
As the battle raged on, Saber's heart leaped with unexpected joy as she caught sight of her master. Emerging from the shadows of the ravine, Kiritsugu looked worse for wear, but he was alive. Relief flooded through her despite the agony coursing through her body.
'Master! You're alright!' Saber's voice, though strained, carried a mixture of relief and determination. She had fought so hard, endured so much, and now with Kiritsugu here, she felt a renewed sense of purpose.
But the look in Kiritsugu's eyes was not what she expected. There was no victory, no satisfaction, only a hollow emptiness that made her chest tighten. He seemed distant, haunted by something she couldn't yet understand.
'Saber… I…' Kiritsugu's voice faltered, and Saber's heart sank as she sensed the gravity in his tone.
'Master! Use your command seal and allow me to end this war!!' Saber urged, her voice strong despite her battered state. She could still do it. She could defeat Berserker and claim the Grail for them. Victory was within reach.
But Kiritsugu remained silent, his eyes filled with a sorrow she had never seen before.
'Master?' Saber's voice wavered as the unease within her grew.
'Saber… I'm sorry,' Kiritsugu finally said, his words barely more than a whisper, yet they struck her like a physical blow.
'What?' Saber's eyes widened in disbelief, her mind struggling to process what he was saying.
'You were right, and I… was wrong. I'm sorry.' His voice was heavy with regret, a tone she had never associated with the man who had always seemed so resolute, so certain of his path.
'Master!?' The urgency in Saber's voice rose, a desperation she hadn't felt in a long time. What was he saying? Why was he apologizing now, at the very moment they were on the cusp of victory?
But Kiritsugu's expression hardened, his resolve clear in the way he held himself.
'There is no more time,' he said, his words a chilling finality.
'What?' Saber's voice cracked, confusion and fear beginning to take hold as she searched his face for answers.
Kiritsugu's hand moved to his command seal, his eyes never leaving Saber's. 'By the power of this command seal,' he began, his voice steady but filled with a deep sadness, 'I order you, Sa—no, the King of Knights—to fulfill your duty and destroy the Holy Grail!'
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
'!!!' Saber's heart pounded in her chest as the command seal glowed, its power seizing control of her very being. She gasped, her body instinctively reacting to the order.
'Kiritsugu!!' Saber's voice trembled with shock and betrayal. 'Why!?'
She had been ready to fight, to win, to bring them the victory they both sought. And now, in the crucial moment, he was commanding her to destroy the very thing they had fought so hard to obtain? It was unthinkable.
Kiritsugu's expression remained resolute, though the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. He knew what he was asking of her, the burden he was placing on her shoulders, but he had no choice. "The Grail… it's not what we thought it was. It can't grant our wishes, Saber. It can only bring destruction. I can't let that happen."
Saber's mind raced, her thoughts in turmoil. The Grail… was corrupted? All of their efforts, all of their sacrifices… for nothing?
'I see,' she whispered, the weight of his words settling over her like a shroud. understanding filled her, as she imagined what Kiritsugu might experience in his absence.
She had trusted Kiritsugu, even when she didn't agree with him. She had fought for him, bled for him, all for the sake of proving him that his path will bring nothing but destruction, to make the man admitted that her path was the right way all along and now it seems she got what she wanted, but at what cost? And now, in this final moment, he was asking her to do something that went against everything she had fought for.
But then she looked into his eyes, and she understood. He wasn't asking her to do this out of cruelty or selfishness. He was asking because he believe it was the right thing to do.
Now that she got what she wanted, she could indulge to his command.
"Alright," Saber finally said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within her. "I will trust you this one last time."
She tightened her grip on Excalibur, the legendary blade that had seen her through countless battles, and turned to face the Grail.
Saber took a deep breath, her one good eye narrowing in determination. "I will fulfill my duty… I will destroy you."
With a final, sorrowful glance at Kiritsugu, Saber raised Excalibur, channeling the last of her strength into the weapon. The blade began to glow with a brilliant light, a beacon of hope against the encroaching darkness.
Unfortunately...
Stab!!
"No!!!"
A scream echoed through the cave.
Stab!!
A sickening sound pierced the air as a blade suddenly tore through Saber's side. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath catching as pain surged through her body.
"No!!!" Kiritsugu's scream echoed through the cave, filled with a mix of horror and desperation.
Saber staggered, her vision blurring as she looked down to see the bloodied tip of a sword protruding from her torso.
Saber staggered, her vision blurring as she looked down to see the bloodied tip of a sword protruding from her torso. Berserker's sword, driven into her by the monstrous Servant who had somehow summoned the strength for one final attack.
Berserker had struck.
The mad Servant had been waiting, watching every movement, every shift in her expression with a predator's patience.
While he had somehow failed to notice Kiritsugu's presence, the subtle change in Saber's demeanor had not escaped his notice. from relief to confusion to worry to shock and finally acceptance.
When he saw her broken hand and leg move with a sudden, renewed purpose as she fell into a familiar stance, he knew she was preparing something powerful—something final.
Berserker's urgency spiked when he saw the light beginning to gather on Saber's sword.
Thankfully, Saber Noble Phantasm have a single, in this case, fatal weaknesses.
It take a little bit too long to charge and unleashed Excalibur.
Exploiting this weakness, Berserker took aim and shot Saber heart.
For an instant, the cave seemed to stand still, the tension so thick it was almost tangible. Berserker, despite his wounds and the madness that clouded his mind, focused all his remaining strength, aiming with deadly precision.
And then he struck.
The sword-arrow in his hand shot through the air with unerring accuracy, tearing through the space between them and embedding itself in Saber's chest.
Stab!!
The blade hit its mark—her heart.
Bullseye.
"No!!!" Kiritsugu's scream rang out, filled with a horror that seemed to reverberate off the cave walls, mingling with the metallic scent of blood that suddenly hung thick in the air.
Desperation gripped him. He couldn't let it end like this, not after everything they had endured. With trembling hands, he grasped his final command seal, the symbol of his last desperate hope.
"By the power of this command seal, I order Saber to use her Noble Phantasm to destroy the Holy Grail!!" The words tore from his throat, filled with a finality that sent a shiver through the cavern.
The moment the command was given, the seal flared with a brilliant light, its power surging through the bond between Master and Servant. Even with a blade buried in her chest, Saber's body responded to the command, her resolve unyielding as she continued to hold her stance. Blood dripped from the wound, staining the ground beneath her, but she did not falter.
The power of the command seal was absolute, compelling her to act even in the face of death.
Light began to gather around Excalibur, the sword glowing with an otherworldly radiance as the legendary blade responded to her call. The cavern was bathed in its golden light, the sheer power of the Noble Phantasm illuminating every corner of the dark, oppressive space.
Kiritsugu's heart clenched with a mix of sorrow and determination. He knew what would happen next—Saber's attack would obliterate everything, destroying the Holy Grail and the cavern that housed it. He couldn't stay here. He needed to get out while he still had the chance.
Without a second thought, Kiritsugu turned and sprinted toward the cavern's exit, his footsteps echoing through the stone walls. The light from Excalibur grew brighter and brighter behind him, its intensity nearly blinding as Saber prepared to unleash her final strike.
As he reached the mouth of the cave, he heard her voice one last time, filled with the strength and resolve that had defined her as a warrior and a king.
"Excalibur!!" Saber's voice echoed through the cavern, the word carrying with it the full might of her Noble Phantasm.