Heroes of Man

by Wake the Wind

Chaldea has fallen. Ritsuka is fighting for his life after a black key nearly rips out his heart. And a dozen Servants disappear when encountering a strange power. Emiya deploys on a mission to recover those Servants, and restore the defenders of human history to full power. But it will take him to a history that was never recorded. With many dangers that he cannot forsee.

48. Emiya VII

Emiya VII

"Why do you fight the inevitable?"

"Damn you!" Emiya shouted, firing off Kanshou into the smoke, slightly wincing as the movement of his arm strained the half dozen cuts along it. He felt no connection from his black blade until it collided with stone, and cursed to himself, knowing that he had missed yet again. He raised his hand, readying to call back Kanshou-

Whhhhiiissshhh

And then stopped, raised up Bakuya, and felt a heavy impact and a shearing metal sound before he saw a small knife bounce just into his vision before disappearing into the gray cloud around him. A second passed by, before he realized he hadn't heard the sound of the iron knife clinking against the stone floor. He swiped his white blade through the air, and could just see the gap where a body had once been, and the trail of open space indicating where they had fled. He almost stepped forward, before he looked down, and saw in the closing space the glint of metal.

"SHIT!" he shouted, before jumping back. He had nearly stepped into the spiked pit again. This was what, the third time he'd nearly fallen for that. He remembered when he'd first actually been caught off guard by it, and only been able to keep himself from being impaled by stretching out his arms and catching himself on the walls of the pit.

'How long ago was that,' he wondered, 'God…I'm tired.'

WHHHISSSH

He cursed, this time called back Kanshou, and twirled himself, catching the knife and sending it flying backward once more. He refocused his ears, and listened once more. When he heard the distinct clink of the knife hitting the stone floor, he nodded. He waited then, listening once more.

'You all are good, I'll give you that,' he thought, as he listened to where the knife had landed. He had to ignore the small pain along his back, old cuts from hours if not days ago still exposed to the air, 'You all are a bunch of humans, and yet you are able to hide the sound of your footsteps so well, that I can't even hear it,' that was something he rather expected of an Assassin class Servant. He then heard a light ruffle of some wool cloth, and this time he threw out Bakuya, 'but-'

SHLUICKT

Emiya smiled as he heard the cut of flesh, 'You aren't able to hide the sound of your clothes running up against your flesh,' he hadn't been able to kill that one, he didn't even know if he'd been able to kill a single one of these Faceless Men. But he had just hit one, and from the sound of it quite deeply, 'At least that might buy me a moment, to at least catch my breath'

He jumped back, and then slammed his back into the wall. He leaned his head to the side, his right eye still focused, while he placed his nose along the wall. He took in as much of the clear air as he could, the strange smoke he'd been inhaling these many hours lightest and weakest here. He could, at least for the moment, calm himself, and try and regain the bearings these constant battles had been taking on him over this last day.

Or had it been two. Emiya couldn't be sure. He…he couldn't even remember what had happened, when he'd first got in here. He remembered the man in red, and then…then he'd remembered the smoke, and falling. A pit that had sent him falling down here, into this strange round room. Then, grates had opened, and in poured this strange smoke. Emiya had thought it had been merely an attempt to blind him at first, but, after so many hours, he knew there was something about it, something strange. It had only been a few hours ago that he had realized that he had lost some speed, and had lost some strength.

He had not noticed, because he had been fighting almost constantly ever since the smoke had filled the room enough that he couldn't see straight anymore. The fighting had not been too hard at first, how could it when he was a Heroic Spirit, and these were men, no matter how skilled. He hadn't been able to kill them, or at least, he wasn't sure if he had been able to, but he had struck several with dangerous blows, much like that last one. But what would happen would be that there would usually be enough of them to hold him off for them to escape. And they'd been doing this for hours now. Perhaps days, if Emiya really couldn't tell. And over time, it had gotten worse. Every time he'd landed a hit, his opponent would seem to get away, behind the sounds of an iron door, while he wore down from the exertion and the smoke and the small but ever multiplying cuts along his body. The Faceless Men had decided on a war of attrition.

'Fucking bastards,' he took in another fresh breath, before he heard the sounds of iron chains rambling. Then, the distinct sound of metal coming open. He cursed, using his hand along the wall, he rushed as fast as he could in the direction of the opening door. He couldn't go directly through the fog, the chance of another pit or trap was too great.

And for the first time since the room had begun to fill with the smoke, he saw it. Two metal doors, slightly open. Emiya, heart almost leaping out of his throat, jumped. This was the first time he'd ever seen it be open, and he had to make it through and get out of th-

THWACK

And then, pain all over his face, he fell backward, into the smoke. It took him a moment, both the shattered hope and the distinct feeling of an imprint of a boot temporarily making him delirious, before he looked, and saw…himself.

"Hello again," the figure, his spiky white hair, his tanned skin, his utterly punchable face, looked down at him. He wasn't an exact copy. His red tunic was made of wool, and the red cloak along his shoulders was not the one that Ciel-senpai had given him those many years ago. But, to Emiya, he couldn't help but meet the strange man eye to eye, "You must have some questions for me."

A second later, Emiya rolled backward, falling back into the smoke. He had managed to hold onto Kanshou and Bakuya while he did so, and making a wide sweep of his blade, found the nearest pit, and jumped over it. He made it…but he could feel air under the very back of his right heel.

'Shit,' Emiya turned, while considering what was happening, 'Shit, shit,' this doppelganger, the one that had lured him into this temple. If he was anywhere near as capable as Emiya thought he might be, he couldn't try and take him head on, 'Not after all this time,' he cursed, 'Not being this far from Ritsuka so long.'

He stood there for a moment, listening once more. He didn't hear his double…but that could just be his opponent disguising his footsteps like the rest of these Faceless Men. Instead, he listened for any other sound, while also looking for strange changes in the fog, and focusing his body to see if he could feel any kind of change in atmosphere. It would take almost all of his concentration, but it was probably the best he was going to get in this situation.

For the next minute or so, he held his ground, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

'What's taking him so long,' Emiya almost wanted to retreat back to the wall of the room. At least to keep himself from being exposed on all sides, 'But if I leave this spot here, I might be walking into his striking distance,' he growled to himself, 'Damnit, I'm getting real tired of this bullshit.'

WHOO-

'Damnit,' Emiya first saw the smoke begin to part in the distance. It wasn't large enough for a person. He raised Bakuya to block the blade, only for his eyes to widen when he saw that it was actually a large stone that had been tossed at him.

"SHIT!" he shouted, before hopping up, allowing the projectile to pass beneath him, "Where did you even ge-," he was cut off, however, when suddenly he heard another set of whistles coming through the air. He looked up, and saw that three short knives were slicing through the air towards him. He brought his blades up.

CLANG

And knocked away the first-

CLANG

Then the seco-

SCHLICK

"GAH!" he shouted, as the third, thrown lower than the others, cut right above his right ankle, digging through the leather of his boot before disappearing behind him. He landed back on the ground, and immediately felt a shooting pain through his leg, having to adjust to the damage there, "MOTHERFUCKER!"

SWI-

He swung Kanshou up and connected with a downward strike from a long scimitar. He got a look at his double, their black eyes meeting, before again Emiya saw his imposter retreat once more into the fog. He reacted, and threw Bakuya this time, but again, he only heard the dull thud of it impacting the wall of the room. He rematerialized the blade as quickly as he could, before raising the white sword back, and returning to his stance, only now with the distinct feeling of blood pouring into his right boot.

"It has been some time, has it not?"

"Really," Emiya moaned. Of course his double would be using his voice. As if he hadn't had enough bullshit to deal with in this place, he now had to hear himself be monologued at in his own voice, "Can we please no-"

SWIS-CLANG

He brought up Bakuya and hit away another strike. Before he could try and swing back, again his opponent disappeared. This time, however, he jumped backward, still facing where his opponent had been coming from. He listened for a moment, until he finally felt himself collide with the wall of the room. He placed his mouth again in the small space of open air, and took in a deep breath, before readying for another assault.

"You should be proud of yourself," he heard his voice say, somewhere in the fog, "You have lasted for three nights in this place. Every other intruder we send here has met their end long before the sun first rises."

"I have never known when to die," Emiya said, trying to see if he could pinpoint where the clone's voice would come from, "Really, it's one of my most annoying qualities," he took another gulp of fresher air, "I think it pisses people off sometimes."

"Well," the voice came from his left, and he turned to meet the coming strike, "This conflagration would be worthless if you died quickly. You would prove to be an unworthy sacrifice if you would die to anything less than the best that the Faceless Men would provide," and then, Emiya felt the air around his right, shift, and saw, at the very edge of his vision, the doppelganger land, a long blade in his hand. The blade was thrust forward, and Emiya only barely managed to twist his body to let the stab miss his side.

'SHIT!' Emiya managed to keep his footing, but only just, his right leg barely able to handle the strain of moving like it had. Still, he turned back, only to see smoke once more, 'Damnit, this stealth shit really does suck from the other side, doesn't it?'

"But, sacrifice, i fear you have mistaken your fate," the voice of Emiya's double bounced around the circle of the room, "No matter how hard it is too kill you, ultimately, all men must die," Emiya suddenly saw shadows begin to cut through the fog. But it was like there were twenty different figures, and they seemed to shoot and twist into one another. Emiya growled, closed his eyes, and then stared at one particular shadow, and jumped and cut down.

There was nothing there.

"And so our game ends," Emiya heard from behind him, "You fought well," and then, he saw the man's scimitar shoot forward again toward's his stomach, "Valar Morghulis."

CHUCK

Emiya felt a pain where the blade stuck into his side. This opponent had managed to actually stab him solidly. The scimitar was now cut rather deep into his flesh, and he was pretty sure that at least some of what would be considered his intestines had been cut up.

'Perfect.'

"YAAAGHGGH!" He shouted, twisting his body, and slicing it toward his opponent. First Kanshou managed to find the front of his opponent's biceps, and Emiya got to see how his face looked when caught completely unaware.

That didn't last long though, as Bakuya came next, this time aimed directly towards the head of his attacker. The double realized what was happening, and leaned away. The idea was to miss Emiya's strike, and then, with the Heroic Spirit out of position, probably readjust and push the scimitar further into Emiya's belly. It was almost completely based on reflex, and it was almost good enough to work.

SHLICCCKKK

It didn't though, as the edge of the white steel managed to just catch around left cheek of the double before he could pull back. A second later, a spray of blood came forward, and Emiya, pressing whatever chance he had, put all his strength into his swing. A moment later, he felt something give way, and Emiya pulled Bakuya forward, until it was pointed directly in front of him. Emiya blinked for a second, as he stared at the very tip of his blade, before he felt his eyes widen.

On the tip of the blade, hanging ragged, was a large flap of skin. It had…holes in it, that weren't just caused by-

"What the!" Emiya flung the fleshy mask to the ground. It was only then that he saw that there was no blood on the mask. He then calmed himself, before turning on his heel, and facing the man who had stolen his face.

"You truly are a magnificent warrior," and Emiya blinked as he saw his opponent. Pale, almost dead looking skin, stretched over his skull, only broken up and covered by tufts of black, scraggly hair, "The warnings Master Onos gave us were ones I was lucky to heed, last time we met one another," the pallid man somehow seemed to have lost most of the bulk of his body. THere was still muscle, but it was wiry and twisty, "Had I not been wary, then there was a chance I would not be here to face you again once more."

"You," Emiya blinked, "You are the Faceless Man from back in Qaarth," he remembered sneaking on the slaver's ship, aiming Kanshou at an imposter's expose-, "I killed you!" he said, with a bit more surprise than he had wanted to, "I put a blade through your gut, and you-"

"You should have aimed for the head," the man's voice had gained a sing-song element to it. He seemed to creak and crack as he moved around Emiya. Emiya could only raise both his blades in defense, yet the nearly mechanical movement of this Facelss man never even approached his range, "All men must die, but by the blessing of the god of many faces, you did not kill me that night," then, the man disappeared into the smoke with but one final word, "Shirou."

"...This is getting really old," Emiya nearly snapped, but set his feet.

He looked around, only to feel a gust on his side, and turned to see the Faceless Man coming towards his side, scimitar raised high. Emiya almost made to send both of his blades up, until he saw that in the other hand of his opponent was a small cursed, and raised only Bakuya, pulling Kanshou inward. As his white blade blocked and deflected the downward slash, he began to roll into his attacker. Just as the knife came towards his guts, Emiya twisted Kanshou, blocking the strike, and allowing Emiya to pull away from the attack. He turned, to meet the Faceless Man head on.

However, instead of the Faceless Man turning to attack him once more, he was just in the process of standing up. He had just bent down for a second, but he had nearly been on his knees.

"To remove my face with a strike. Quite the accomplishment," the Faceless Man turned, the knife now put away, and the fleshy mask now drooping along his fingers. He held it up, and smiled, "I can see why Onos warned us about you," he raised the mask towards his face, "He has been saying a doppelganger of himself would eventually arrive. A fake using his face," he placed the mask along his face, and then smiled, "But a faker such as you," Emiya could not help but grit his teeth, "A faker such as you should be quite familiar with the skill we have been gifted with," he then slammed his hand around the flesh. Emiya felt his eyes widen, when he saw jagged blue lines shoot up from beneath the red of his coat, slice across the skin on the back of his hand and then to the tips of his fingers, before a shot of magic seeped into the mask, and caused it to begin to meld into his face. As the flesh glowed, and the form of the face began to glow, and that light covered the skin of the man, Emiya heard the Faceless man's warbling voice declare, "TRACE ON!"

Emiya had to close his eyes. When he managed to open them, his opponent was gone.

"Shit," he cursed lightly, before calming himself. He sighed, before saying, "So, you all managed to figure out how to use reinforcement, and projection to completely hide your identities," he waited for some kind of response, before continuing, "Cu was wondering about you. He said that you all supposedly could only take the faces of someone who you had killed and stolen the face of. That was the only way you could perfect your disguise," his mind drifted to back when he had been trying to sneak up the hill, and changing the texture of his cloak, "Used together, reinforcement and projection can be worked to manipulate a material, so it makes some sort of sense," he gripped his blades more tightly, "We just never considered that you all would have the capability to use Magecraft."

And yet still, the room remained silent. Emiya spat, while gazing around, 'He isn't the monologuing type unfortunately,' he twisted Kanshou on reflex, 'Damnit, I'd kill for the fucker to say something,' yet as the seconds ticked by, the Facelessman remained quiet, 'Damnit, well, need to see if I can get this conversation going.'

"So Onos, huh," Emiya asked, waiting to see his face once more, "He's the guy who taught you this. Can't say I've ever met him," he raised a finger to his chin in mock contemplation, "I've never even heard of someone with that name. I've usually heard of the people trying to kill me," he stopped for a second, before chuckling, "At least the ones that seem like they might come close to succeeding," he shook his head, "But Onos, never heard the name. Sounds like someone put you all up to this, and is willing to let you all take the fall when I finally get my hands on you."

There was still no movement in the smoke around him. Emiya grit his teeth, only to feel the back of his throat itch. He'd been in the center of the smoke too long, and talking so much hadn't helped either. After a large hack, he shot forward, blades at his sides, before reaching the nearest wall, and taking in as fresh a breath of air as he could. He then turned, placed his back to the wall, and looked back into the smoke. But still, there was nothing there. He sighed, before taking in another breath, all the while a pain shot through his leg from the wound.

"Let me tell you, unless that Onos guy is already here, backing you up, this is going to end really badly for you and the rest of your friends," he blinked, somehow seeing little reflections of light within the smoke, "Though really," he began to chuckle, "If you want to keep going, I won't mind," he twisted his neck to the side, getting a very loud crack, "I've always wanted to get to punch myself in the face."

"I'm sorry Faker," Emiya turned towards one part of the room, where he could almost place the massive steel door, "You seem to believe that you can trick me into opening myself up to your advantage," Emiya heard the chain at the other end of the room move once more, "If you thought that I would fall for such an obvious attempt to trick me," and the figure emerged from the fog, spiky white hair and bronze skin emerging from the smoke, "you are terribly mistaken."

The faceless man, still within the fog, snapped his fingers, and suddenly dozens of blades shot through the smoke, all towards Emiya. The Counter Guardian raised his blades, and began to force all his energy into his arms. Just as the first blade got within arm's reach, he swung Kanshou, and sent the knife flying backward.

CLANK

And then, he did so again against a second knife.

CLANK

Then, another knife, a spear, and a short sword.

CLANKCLANKCLANK

And then, the onslaught was on. One after another, blades and spikes and bolts were all at him at the same time. And through it all, Bakuya and Kanshou hummed through the air, knocking each weapon away from him. It took almost all of his concentration to make sure he was blocking these strikes. As the twentieth knifer or so was sent backward by his defense, he saw a short flash of pure metal. He was about to reach out to knock it away, but it was faster than all the rest, and it managed to just slip through, and within a second, pierce directly into his left shoulder.

"CHHHCH!" Emiya shouted through gritted teeth, but he couldn't stop. Despite his wounds, he had to keep blocking these attacks, or he would be cut to ribbons. He raised Kanshou, and blocked another spear, but when he moved Bakuya, his arm was stiff, and his eyes widened as he looked at the bolt in his arm. This one must have been better aimed, to try and disrupt the flow of his blocks by weakening his arm.

And unfortunately, it worked. Bakuya was too slow, it missed another bolt that flew in, and grazed along the side of his neck. When a second bolt followed, only this time a bit further towards his flesh, Emiya brought over Kanshou, which sent that bolt flying. But moving the black blade over opened him up, and suddenly Emiya felt a stab in his right side. He looked down, and saw a steel knife sticking out right below his ribs. Emiya let out another grunt, and forced his arms into a frenzy. This allowed him to overcome the loss of movement from his left arm, but now, his body full of adrenaline, he was no longer in control of where his arms were moving. And the blades and missiles kept coming. Along his right thigh, the left side of his forehead, and right along his sternum, he felt the attacks cut into him. All of them were grazes or cuts along the skin, but still, this attack was getting to him.

Finally, as Emiya fell to his knees, the storm of blades ended. Emiya tried to take a step up, but the pain in his leg shot upward. He looked over at the smoke, and saw a form slowly advance towards him, the fog disappearing around his red cloak.

"I see that the days of battle have finally worn down on you," the man wearing his face said. Emiya raised his left hand to try and summon Bakuya, but just as mana appeared in it, it fragmented and burst. His left hand then fell down, and bounced on the ground, "You can't project your weapons anymore," Emiya could almost hear the smirk in his voice, as the Faceless Man stood directly over him, "Alongside the wounds, you are finished."

"Huh-huh," Emiya panted loudly, his eyes focused on his mirror, "So why not finish me then?"

"You would already be dead if we wished for it," the figure marched closer and closer, reaching his hands out, "We have need of you for something more important," there was a flash of more circuits up his body, and suddenly, a rope was projected into his hands, "The calling of the God of Many-Faces needs a mighty sacrifice, and your survival these last few days pro-ack!"

"So," Emiya smirked, now standing directly in front of the figure. His leg wound hurt, but it was in no way something that could have stopped him. He could feel warm liquid begin to pool along his right hand, as the knife that had once been stuck in his side now found its way directly into the belly of his opponent, "Still think you are too smart to trick huh?"

"Buh?" Emiya watched as his face suddenly spat out a bubble of blood, long lines ripping down to the bottom of his chin. The doppelganger's eyes were both questioning him, and screaming out in anger. Clearly, the Faceless men were not as composed as they liked to pretend.

"Your buddies are back there, aren't they?" Emiya scanned the smoke, "You probably have what, a dozen of them back there, with as many weapons as they could get," he pushed one of those weapons further into the Faceless Man's gut. That caused Emiya to smirk, "You only have so much magecraft in you, those circuits weren't trained for much more than disguises," he pushed his face directly into the Faceless Man's, "That Onos guy, he clearly didn't want you to be able to use too much magic. He only gave you just enough to simple tasks and create your disguises," he pushed the blade in deeper, and somehow, he finally began to tower over his enemy, "So yeah, he set you up to lose to me," he then eyed the man across from him with a raised eyebrow, "Now, what is it you were saying about a sacrifice?"

For a second, the copied face across from Emiya looked terrified. Then, the Faceless Man's cheeks puffed out, and he spat a horrible bloody mix into Emiya's face. Emiya nearly fell backward, but he held himself up, and quickly made to wipe away the blood. However, he felt his knife lose some weight upon it, and cursed. After he had wiped away the blood in his eyes, he saw that his opponent had fled backward into the smoke.

"SHIT!" Emiya shouted. He charged forward. He knew, from everything he mapped out, that his wounded foe was likely about to retreat behind the metal door. Emiya wasn't so hurt that he could be overtaken by one of these Faceless men, but he had sustained several real wounds. He couldn't allow himself to be trapped again, and to let them plan another day of battle to be worn down and eventually trussed up to be their sacrifice. He called back Bakuya, and charged.

With all his strength he lunged, sailing over the smoke still hanging around the floor, and any traps that might have been down there. A moment later, he was in the depth of the remaining smoke, but he kept moving forward, until, with his one projected blade outstretched, he connected with solid stone. He almost cursed, having miscalculated where the door would be, except out of the corner of his eye, he saw the smoke moving, being sucked away from the room.

"Found it," he said to himself, before rolling against the wall, and then around the corner, before throwing himself through the open door. He fell to the ground, his wounds pulsating as they impacted on the ground. Emiya seethed, the bolt still in his shoulder was still hurting particularly badly. He reached up, grabbed at it, and pulled it free. He pulled then held it for a moment, noting how light the missile had been, before holding it in front of his face, "Wait," he saw all the way through the metal bolt, "Was this…hollo-"

He then heard the creaking from behind him. Cursing himself, Emiya pushed himself back to his feet. Right now, he had to get out of this place. He had been wounded, and it would be important to let the others know about just how powerful these Faceless Men were. After all, if they were using magecraft like this, then the danger to Ritsuka was amplified beyond them being mere mundane assassins. He looked up, and saw that, away from the door behind him, there was a long tunnel, lit by torches, that seemed to twist to the right.

"Well," he said, to the Faceless Men he knew were around him, "Not that this hasn't been fun," he brought out Kanshou to join Bakuya, and then forced his way to his feet, "But I'm getting the hell out of here," he then waved his blades around, "Unless you want to go ahead and test your projection or your weapons in a place without having a dozen traps."

"You continue to underestimate the Faceless men," he still heard his voice speaking. Emiya grit his teeth, imagining a dumb, smug smile on his visage as the Faceless Man likely planned his next move, "It is your arrogance and your dismissiveness that shall be your undoing, Faker."

"The only Fakers I see," Emiya growled, wondering just how these Men, and this Onos man who they seemed to revere, knew that title would bother him. At least the Faceless Man hadn't been able to change his face to Gilgamesh's, if only to keep Emiya's blood pressure down, "Are you."

He received no answer. For a few seconds he stood there, waiting for another response, before he shook his head, and charged down the hall. No need to try and continue to get his opponents to monologue their plans. He already had everything he needed. Now, he just had to get out of this temple.

'Hopefully Nitocris is still up there,' though Emiya doubted that. If she had been able to help him, she likely would have done so by now. And if she couldn't on her own, then she would have gone and gotten Ritsuka. Since this temple was still standing on its foundations, Emiya was almost certain that Ritsuka didn't know where he was. The boy could be quite incensed when one of his friends was in danger. He looked, and watched as the torches along the upper section of the wall, continued to burn, 'I can worry about all that later. Right now, I just need to get out of here,' and he then smiled when he saw the flames bend a bit in the wind, 'Alright, just need to follow that, and I'll be home free.'

He gave one last look around him, before nodding to himself after not finding a single Faceless Man nearby. He glanced down at the hollow bolt, and twisted his shoulder on reflex. Then, he took off, Bakuya and Kanshou in his hands. He wasn't going at full speed, despite exhaustion, he needed to be ready to jump away in case any kind of trap tried to stop him.

As he moved through the halls, he tried his best to take in all the details he could. Every few steps along this hall were illuminated by small candles, only providing the faintest glow of light. These only barely illuminated where Emiya was going, but that probably wasn't why they were placed in those spaces.

No, they had been placed where they were to illuminate stone faces carved into the walls, which held candles within their open mouths, only slightly broken up by small passageways off to the sides. The Faceless Men supposedly worshiped something called the many faced god, so this did fit this religion. Some were laughing, some weeping, some shrieking in rage, and even a few recoiling in fear. It at least gave the hallway a bit more character.

"Come on," he said, "Got to find a way up."

He had fallen down into that previous room, so he needed to find a set of stairs to hopefully get to the main floor, and out of this place. But so far, he couldn't seem to find a stairwell. He kept to the main corridor first, not wanting to get lost, but quickly, he found that nothing there actually led to a set of stairs. He would probably need to go into one of the alcoves, and he was pretty sure that was where the faceless men had retreated.

'I was probably going to have to fight them again eventually,' he groaned, coming to one of the small dark passages, and readying his blades. He tried his best to look deeper into the dark, but he couldn't make anything out. Finally, he sighed, and pushed forward, slowly stepping into the near pitch black of that little corridor. He then stood there, waiting for an attack…but nothing came. He sighed, took another step.

"Why?"

Emiya stopped and turned on his heel, staring back into the main hallway, Bakuya and Kanshou ready.

But there was no one there.

Emiya blinked. He was about to turn around, when he noticed the light in front of him flicker. He felt a sweat begin to cover him, as he watched the mouth of the face in front of him close, eyes scrunching in pain and sadness, and then heard it say, "Why?" again. Emiya wasted no time, throwing Bakuya with all his might. The white blade cut through the stone, and through the candle inside, as the light inside suddenly went out, making the whole area much darker.

…

The face made no more sound, and Emiya reached out and pulled his blade back, 'Yeah,' he thought, 'This is not good,' he thought on what was happening, as the face had resumed it's frozen grief, as though it had never spoken it's pained question, 'Maybe some kind of projection magecraft,' he really wasn't sure. All it did was make Emiya have to acknowledge that this was in no way over, 'But I've been all the way around that main hall,' he turned back into the pitch black of the new passageway, 'never going to get out of here if I don't start marking these hallways off one by one.'

And so, he marched into the darkness of the small alcove. He placed Kanshou and Bakuya's pointed tips outward, until they connected with the wall. He would use that to steady himself, and keep himself from being turned around. If there was a slight curve in this passage to try and confuse him, he'd be able to feel it this way.

At first, it seemed, he was lucky. The corridor was straight, and despite the near complete darkness around him, he had avoided running into anything. But as he kept moving forward, he quickly realized that something was going on. He had been walking for too long. Before long, he had passed at least a quarter of a mile in this darkness, and that would have been more than enough for him to be off the rock and into the water of the lagoon.

'Unless this place is so deep that it goes underneath the canal,' he thought, forcing his senses to the ready, 'I'm getting tricked somehow,' he looked to his sides, but again only saw the darkness around him, 'fucking assassian wannabes, I swear.'

And then, just as he was about to consider this all more deeply, he felt his foot hit a flat surface. He nearly tripped, exhaustion seeming to have sapped something from him, but he caught himself, and stepped back. He paused, before kicking the foot forward again, and kicking into a flat surface. But it didn't feel like stone of a wall, like he would expect if this was a dead end. Slowly he raised up his foot several inches, and moved it forward. Instead of hitting a flat surface, however, he felt air.

"Stairs!" Emiya couldn't help himself, quickly stepping up. He had found a set of wooden stairs. On the first corridor he'd gone down, "My luck is never this…good," he stopped, and looked around. He tapped the tip of his boot on the stair, waiting for the wood to give way from rot, or there to be a missing stair for him to fall through, or maybe a nail sticking out to impale his foot. But, "Nothing," he turned his head back and forth, before slowly inching his way up the stairwell. Keeping his senses on alert.

The next few minutes were slow. Climbing the stairs in the dark meant he had to be careful, there was no way he could afford to get caught in another trap. But…there wasn't really anything to worry about. Before long, he could just keep climbing the stairs without having to feel around. He could just take a step, and keep climbing.

And after climbing, he finally, up above his head, saw some light, glowing from what seemed to be a balcony right above his head. But it wasn't from a candle, or from a torch, or any kind of flame at all. No, it was paler, fainter, cooler light that seemed to fill the space above him. He looked up, and then saw that the illuminated walls were no longer stone, but plaster, and that along the staircase was now a wooden banister.

"The hell?" Emiya wondered, before shaking his head, and readying his blades. He couldn't let himself get distracted. He was already exhausted, and forcing his body to move was getting more difficult as his leg wound pulsated. He charged up the remaining stairs, hugging the wall, before he finally arrived at the balcony, and saw that the light was coming from, "Windows?"

There had been no windows when he'd looked at this temple on the outside. He hadn't seen the whole of the building, but it had seemed that this place had been completely closed off to the rest of the world.

'Even if it does have windows,' he thought leaning towards one of them, and noticing the clear panes of glass, separated by almost mechanically produced mullins of wood between them, and what smelt like modern white paint, 'These are way too modern.'

He then stopped, and turned around, but he saw no one attempting to ambush him. He paused, turned back to the window nearest to him, and swept his hand over the top of the lower part of the window. He didn't find a catch, which caused him to sigh, before pulling back Kanshou, and stabbing it into the glass.

The blade merely bounced back.

"That would be too eas-"

TUMP

Emiya turned to the sound. It hadn't come from down in the darkness, as he initially feared. Instead, it had come from the end of the balcony, where there was a door sitting at the end of it, light coming through the bottom. But it wasn't a door that should be here. It was a painted white rectangle, with a brass knob right at waist height, with a basic but pristine pattern cut into its face. Four rectangles, long ones at the top down to the handle, and two directly beneath them, with curved cuts on their insides.

'This…is a modern door,' he thought as he walked up to it, and placed his hand on its face, 'The paint is laminated too. It had to come from a factory-'

"UHHHH."

He recognized that was a groan from the other side. He shook his head, grabbed the brass knob, and turned it.

"Why?

He…he'd been here before. He finally realized that he'd been walking through a modern western style home since he'd ascended the stairs. He should have guessed that at least from the glass. And the room in here was a western style bedroom. A small closet with two plantations style doors. A set of curtains that when released would cut the room in half. A desk, a small alcove with a bed inside. A small pile of stuffed animals. And a woven wicker chair painted white.

And on that chair, a young woman.

A young woman he'd never thought he'd see…and never hoped he'd see, ever again.

She would have been pretty. She was at most in her mid-teens. She had long, flowing purple hair. Her face, even in this state, had a sweet sadness to it, one that Emiya could see even through everything.

Because she wasn't pretty now. Her hair was matted in places, and in those mats the hair was darker, almost black. Her left eye was swollen almost completely shut, a blueish mark covering almost the entire upper half of her face. Her right eye was completely covered by her hair. Her nose was bent to the side slightly, and her lips were cracked. As she lifted her head, Emiya saw the distinct red marks of fingers along her neck.

"Why Senpai?" Matou Sakura, or the thing pretending to be Sakura, croaked. As her head moved upward, Emiya could see another bruise on her right cheek, "Why?"

Emiya stood there.

"Why couldn't you just leave it alone?" the figure continued. She stood from the wicker chair, but it was like an amateur puppeteer bringing up a marionette, one arm coming up jaggedly above her head, one leg kicking out to the side. Emiya felt the need to rush over to her, to try and help her to her feet naturally, but before he could, she was standing up. Or slouching up, her left head leaning one her shoulder. But both eyes, sickly lavender, were locked on him, even as the rest of her body twitched and fidgeted back along the invisible strings of the puppeteer.

"Wh-," Emiya gulped. He knew what was happening. He knew it. But, "What are you talking about?"

"I begged you to not talk to Shinji," the phantom continued, "I begged, and begged and begged," what was most frightening, was that beyond the croak of her ruined vocal chords, there was no emotion in her voice. A marionette, "The bruise was nothing. It would have all gone away if you would just have listened," the string attached to her right hand went taught, and an outstretched finger was pointing directly into his face, "But you wouldn't stop. You wouldn't listen. And Shinji," Suddenly, she stopped. There was not emotion, but it looked almost like her jaw expanded, followed by her cheeks, before she then finished with, "Shinji got hurt. And when Shinji wasn't hurt anymore," Sakura crunched forward, bending at her waist, "He hurt me."

Emiya's breath hitched, but he closed his eyes. He forced his mind back in time, centuries of existence falling to the way side, and he nodded to himself, "You aren't real," he remembered the last time he'd seen her, "Shinji was dead. I saw his body. He couldn't have hurt you."

"Oh really?" the closeness of her voice caused his eyes to open, and he saw that their faces were only inches away, separated only by her bangs that had fallen over her face, leaving her eyes the only visible parts of her face, "Do you think Shinji and the Matou could not hurt me from beyond the grave," He could see her teeth, or what was left of them, half missing, the other half twisted and pointing diagonal along her mouth, "These are but the curse he could grant me," and then, Emiya could see the wretched mouth widen, "And it was not Shinji that I most feared," her voice became quieter, more like Sakura's natural voice, and Emiya could only shudder when the recognizable voice finished with, "for he was not the source of my misery."

And then, Emiya saw her stomach begin to bulge. A great rippling began right in her middle, but quite quickly it began to swim up her chest, the bits of visible skin convulsing and writhing. Finally, it reached her neck. The neck began to balloon, and that massive bulge climbed up her neck, until it finally reached her chin, and then, her cheeks expanded, and Sakura's open mouth began to be filled with something squirming. Emiya wasn't able to even take a step back, before suddenly dozens of creatures burst forward, slimy, sharp little things burst forward, grabbing onto his face.

"Why did you ruin my life?" he heard as he fell backward. He could feel them begin to cover his body, dig underneath his clothes, and begin to attempt to devour his little remaining mana. He knew that he had Kanshou and Bakuya ready…but he couldn't bring them to up for the fight. Instead, all he could do was fall backward.

Onto the stone of that central corridor. In a panic, he sat up, and saw, directly in his way, was one of the masks. This one, a massive, cacophonous smile. The face's mouth nearly as large as the Saku-

He stopped, and blinked. He couldn't feel any of the crest worms on his body. There was no bedroom, no plaster walls. If he thought about it, there was likely no modern windows or unnaturally long staircase. There had been no beaten and bruised Matou Sakura. In fact, there had been no Matou Sakura at all.

And as those realizations hit Emiya, he felt something.

Rage.

"I'm going to kill you!" he shouted, jumping to his feet, bringing both Bakuya and Kanshou to his hands, and twisting on his heels, "You here me you freaks!" he turned to his left, and to his right, but he couldn't see any of them. His eyes landed on the launching face, and he sliced it horizontally and vertically, sending the stone shards to the floor, "I don't know what you did to me, but when I get my hands on you, you'll wish you've never been born!"

It was all a lie. It had to be. He'd never seen Sakura like that. He hadn't seen Sakura since left Fuyuki all those years ago. As far as Rin had told him, she was alive when he'd passed on. Sakura had been part of his past, part that hurt. But this hadn't happened. It was just some stupid vision magic that Onos must have taught them to make him lose his mind. He would remain focused.

"COME OUT HERE AND DIE!" He screamed, swinging his head along the corridor, "Do you hear me you cowards!" still, there was no words from the Faceless Men. He growled, feeling some spit come and land on his chin, "Don't think you can run!"

"Why?"

He tossed Bakuya, and heard the sound of metal on stone. He turned, and saw that he had stabbed another face along the wall, through its forehead this time. This one was frowning deeply, made so that it was clear this was a face in mourning. Somehow, despite lacking actual eyes, it managed to look directly at Emiya. The face crunched, and it began to spasm, until somehow melting wax came pouring out of the eye holes, slipping down stone cheeks.

"WhY?" it asked again, and Emiya growled, before pulling out his first blade, and cutting the face in half, the two pieces of stone landing on the floor. He looked at the shattered art, spat on it, and then turned to go down the corridor once more.

"WHY?"

Emiya turned to this new voice, and saw a face roiling with anger. There didn't seem to be any wax at all behind this face, only burning fire. And unlike the previous faces, it seemed to extend out from the wall, almost as though it were coming directly for Emiya himself.

"WHY?" it asked again, a spark spitting out and landing on Emiya's face. Emiya could only growl, and slice up this face too, sending the sparks and heated rock sprinkling along the floor. He turned away, but even after taking out this face.

"WHY!" shouted another face, this one just as infuriated as the one he'd just destroyed.

"Wh-ha-hy?" a laughing face asked, only a few feet down.

"Why?" another, almost looking inquisitively at him, somehow with an eyebrow raised.

And it just kept happening. Every single face along the corridor, large or small, happy or sad, enraged or jubilant, high or low, all of them turned to Emiya. And each one continued to ask the same question of him, the damage he had done to the previous faces along the walls meaning nothing to them. They just kept asking, "Why?"

And the question began to bang within Emiya's head. It wasn't even a constant drone, or a synchronized call. No, it was dozens upon dozens of voices, each speaking at the same time, out of time, over one another. There was not a single moment that one of these voices wasn't aching the question. He couldn't even hold his hands to his ears, with both Bakuya and Kanshou in his hands.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, before throwing Bakuya again, this time along the wall. It was aimed to cut through as any of the faces as it could, and the noble phantasm did its work well. At least eight of the stone masks suddenly lost their jaws, and it managed to collide with one particularly annoying face on the other side of the hall, shattering the cackling thing before it could ask him "why?" again. He reached out to Bakuya, calling it back. The blade disappeared from the wall…but did not reappear in his hand. Emiya blinked, held up his hand, tried to project Bakuya again…and nothing came of it.

"SHIT!" he screamed, "Of all the times!"

"WH-"

"SHUT UP!" Emiya screamed again. He had to think. He was running low on mana. Dangerously so, at this point. Whatever these freaks were doing, it was managing to wear him down. He couldn't afford to just sit here anymore. He had to get out now. He had to run.

And so, he ran. He took off, sprinting with as much speed as his legs could carry him, without using mana to enforced them. He couldn't afford to use mana like that, when he had to keep Kanshou ready in case he was forced into an actual fight. But by just running along the corridor, he was forced to listen to the cacophony around him continue. The mixture of different emotions, all screaming the same fucking question at him as he ran.

"Why?"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" he shouted. He had to keep his eyes open. He scanned the corridor as he ran. But unlike before, this round passage no longer had any of those hallways that spoked off this main corridor. Instead, it was just more faces. And it was truly more faces, as the longer Emiya ran, the denser the stone masks along the wall seemed to become. Before, there would usually only be two of the faces on the wall at any one point, with at least a meter between them. But now, now there was barely a foot between each line of masks, and the masks were almost stacked, chin to forehead, all the way from the floor to the ceiling.

'Have to keep my eyes open,' Emiya tried to clear his head, 'Can't let them get the jump on me,' he scanned his eyes upward, looking to see for shadows above his head, 'the best place for an ambush is from above,' he couldn't afford to be taken off his guard, especially with how little mana he had left. He couldn't actually tell how much mana there was. The thought of Kanshou going out and disappearing like Bakuya almost caused a shiver up his spine, 'But as long as I keep my eyes open,' he thought again scanning, looking both for a possible attacker and a way to climb up, 'I will be fi-yaaayh!'

And then he felt everything all out from beneath his feet. He fell forward, and had to use all the strength in his grip to hold onto Kanshou as he fell. He glared upward, looking up into the hole that led to the corridor. But even though he was no longer in the hallway, he kept hearing the question be repeated over and over and over again.

"Why?"

And so he fell. For seconds, minutes, hours maybe? He fell. He just kept falling, and falling, and falling. Emiya swung his blade around him, but despite all his effort, nothing seemed to change his trajectory.

Before long, the could no longer look up and see the light of the hallway. All that was around him was a deep, dark blackness, that he kept falling down, deeper, and deeper and deeper.

And then he stopped. He didn't land, that would mean there had been some kind of impact. No, he just, stopped. Face first on a floor. He groaned for a second, looking around. Now, the darkness was still there, there was no lighting in this room, but there were some small rays of light dancing around him. In particular, there was a small square of light cut into pieces right above his head. He blinked for a second, as he stared at the small square. Like the Matou's hallway, this square, and the room around it…seemed familiar.

"Why?"

Emiya felt all his blood run cold, before sighing. He had known this was going to happen. He should have been ready for it the moment after he realized that Sakura had been a phantom. He should have known that whatever spell the Faceless Men had cast on him, it was going to result in returning here, to this cell once more.

'To the last time I ever spoke to her,' he turned on his side, and pushed himself up to hands and knees. He looked over, at the open iron door, and looked at a beautiful woman, staring down at him. Even now, after so many years as a Counter-Guardian, he couldn't believe the brazeness that Tohsaka Rin had shown when she'd tried to break him out the night before his hanging. She was even wearing a bright red sweater.

"Why aren't you coming, Emiya," he'd pulled her hair out of its pigtails a decade earlier, allowing her long black hair to flow freely down to the small of her back, "You can't just lay down like a dog and let them kill you," she was infuriated with him, but she had better control of her emotions now so he only saw a scowl on her face, no blush at all anymore, "So come on, let's get out of here."

'They must be using my memories somehow,' Emiya considered, managing to get back on his feet, slightly shaking. He let out a sigh of relief, still feeling Kanshou in his left hand, 'Though, that doesn't explain Sakura, that isn't a memor-'

"Emiya!" he flinched, yet he also felt his mouth form a small smirk. Even as some kind of phantom, her voice could still do this to him, "You have to leave now!" she then placed her hands within her hair, and began to rub her head front to back in frustration, "Gah! Why are you always so stubborn?"

"They really did do a good job on this," Emiya couldn't help but say, "Even have that motion from that night down exactly."

"Why are you acting like this?" she asked, and Emiya could see tears begin to form. Yeah, this had been how the conversation went. When he had finally denied her, so that he could go to the gallows for his crimes. He would explain his need to live up to his ideals by dying for them, and she would leave then and there. He'd seen her among the crowd, trying to be there so he wouldn't have to die alone, but this night in this cell had been the end of…well, whatever he and Tohsaka Rin had been.

"You know, this really isn't on the same level as the last one," he said aloud, finally standing straight up, "I mean, last time, I was shocked. It was something I'd never seen," he then waved his hand out toward "Rin", "but I've lived through this, and even if it was the worst thing I can remember," he almost chuckled, but he kept it together, "I've gone through this night so many times already, that it isn't going to slow me down."

"Why are you talking like this?" Rin asked, and this time, Emiya couldn't help but snort.

"Oh," Emiya laughed, "This is good," he looked her over, with her hands on her hips, "You have her…her Rin-ness almost perfect," he then pointed at her, "But you have to know I'm not going to fall for one of my real memories being used like this. I know what's going on."

"Why are you so frustrating?" Rin groaned, and Emiya actually laughed aloud this time. How could he not, that was just what Rin would say, "Why won't you just leave?"

"Because I can't ever leave," he looked at Rin, "I've been thinking about this day for centuries," eh smiled as he looked the phantom of this gir-no, this woman, in the eye, "I know everything I could have done to put Alaya's yoke from my neck farther away, but it doesn't matter, because this is just a memory," he shook his head, "None of it ever matters, because that's all this is, a memory. A picture," he pointed his finger at his head, and again, Emiya had to compliment the spell, Rin backed away like she was really here, starting to wonder what he was talking about, "You aren't really here Rin, so there is really nothing to say."

He made to go around her, towards the door. Maybe all he had to do was get through this, and he'd probably be back to that long circular hallway. Or maybe, there would finally be a staircase up out of the caverns down below the temple. He could at least hope-

And then, as he turned out of the hallway that held the cell, he stopped. The rest of the building that he'd been imprisoned in…it was gone. He was instead, standing on a dune. As he felt his feet being to sink into the sand, he looked along the horizon, and felt the blood slowly drain from his face.

Fire. There was fire out there, hundreds upon hundreds of flames dancing among what were the remains of buildings, big and small. Emiya felt a sweat begin to cover his brow, as he watched the many buildings burn.

"You've lived this many times?" he heard her voice, but it wasn't Rin anymore. He turned back, and watched as the woman followed in his footsteps, out of the cell, and right behind him. She continued, "Why can't you see that all you do is hurt people," she raised a finger, and pointed past Emiya toward the burning city out there, "Those people, you hurt them so badly."

"Enough."

"Is it getting more real now?" there was a vicious anger in the back of Rin's voice, "Can't just laugh your way through this you know," he felt her hands reach up, and grip his shoulders, "Why can't you see, you aren't going to be able to just push your sins away," somehow, she seemed to grow, slowly going from a woman of fairly average height to someone who could tower over her, "Why can't you see, that your sins have consequences greater than you can imagine."

"Enough," Emiya tried to pull away from "Rin", but her grip was tighter than anything he'd ever felt, "Enough!"

"You can't just run away," the thing said, it's voice now both Rin's, and whatever croaking thing had been puppetting Sakura, "You can't just leave me to live and suffer from your sin," she fire in her eyes was terrifying, and Emiya felt the need to pull away, but he couldn't, "Why can't you see that your actions hurt me just as much as they hurt you!?"

"ENOUGH!" Emiya shot Kanshou forward.

SHUNK

And, watching Rin's face lose its anger and rage, he instantly regretted it. He looked down, and saw that the blade had gone directly into her belly.

"Why?" she asked, the croak in her voice gone. Tears were pooling beneath her eyes, as she stared up into his eyes in a mixture of shock and horror. She opened her mouth again, but instead of words, blood bubbled out and began to streak down her chin, "Wh-y" she asked again, as the woman fell forward, into his arms.

"I-I," Emiya said, "You aren't real!" he said, shaking his head, as he felt blood flow from the stab wound down Kanshou onto his hand, "You can't be real," even though he clearly felt the blood oozing through his fingers.

"Why coul," she spat up more blood, this time onto his chest, as she slumped further into his arms, "Coul-couldn't you just stop?" she asked, tears and blood mixing at the bottom of her chin, the life draining from her eyes as they stared directly into his, "Why couldn't you realize I was right there next to you? That I was with you, that I am with you?"

"Rin," Emiya placed his arms behind her back, "I'm sorry," he felt her go limp in his arms, "I…I should have stopped, I should have come back to Fuyuki," he was crying now, and he could tell she wasn't even listening anymore, but he couldn't keep the words from coming, "I was so stupid. I thought I was doing something great, but all I did was hurt people," he looked down at the lifeless eyes staring up at him, tears still flowing down her face, "All I did was hurt you."

Emiya didn't know how long he sat there, holding Rin's body. It might have been a minute, a day, or a lifetime. But finally, when he regained his composure, he returned his vision to the woman who'd done so much for him, and saw that not even bones or clothing was left. He sat there for a minute, and shook his head.

'There,' he pushed himself up again, and looked around, 'There needs to be a way out.'

But as he looked around, all he could see was fire. Where before, there had only been fire out in the distance, along the far off horizon, now, he was surrounded by burning buildings. No, burnt buildings, with only the vaguest hints of their old structures. He couldn't even tell how many stories they once had had. All he could see was that they were ruined by the flames, totally eaten away by fire.

'Come on,' Emiya twitched his hand, but Kanshou wasn't coming back. He'd lost his last weapon, and he wasn't even sure if he could project a simple knife if he needed to protect himself. He would have to move. He had to move.

"Come on," he pushed past one burning pile of rubble. He thought he was making progress, but as far as he could see, everything was the same. There was nothing that told him if he was actually making progress, or even moving at all. He could be going in a circle, or maybe he actually hadn't even taken a step from where Rin had disappeared. But he couldn't stop, "Come on!"

"Why?"

Emiya stopped. Out from one pile of flaming rubble, he saw a figure appear. It was rather short, and at first, Emiya could only bink, questioning what it was. Then, however, he finally saw, as the flames dissipated leaving only the small man standing in front of him. He had small bifocals over his tanned skin, and a bright white lab coat over his shoulders. He looked to be in his mid fifties, good shape for that age. And at his forehead, was a massive cut that Emiya recognized was his work.

"Why?" Kairev Shankar asked. The first man he'd killed as a Counter Guardian. A pacifist, but one whose physics theorems would eventually lead to nuclear war, "Why?'

'Just ignore him,' Emiya said, keeping his eyes forward, not wanting to look at his victim in his face, 'You've got enough to worry about with Sakura and Rin on your conscious, can't afford to pile on more guilt.

"Why?" Shankar asked again, but Emiya continued walking. And the physicist just stood there, as Emiya passed. It had seemed to be a victory to Emiya, or at least proof that he could ignore this…whatever the Faceless Men had done to mess with him so thoroughly.

"Why?" and this time Emiya stopped, as out from another of the flaming wreckage, another figure emerged. A woman, short blond hair, and the clear uniform of Clock Tower, came forward, her throat still hanging open from where Emiya had cut it to keep Alicia Stewart from revealing the existence of Magecraft to the wider world, "Why?"

"Of all the," Emiya jumped a bit, but then, he could see more and more of them coming from the fires. He…he'd been hoping he'd forgotten them. That his time as Alaya's dog had dulled his memory of the specific atrocities he'd piled up. But no, no, as thousands of people began to come out of the inferno, he realized he'd never been as good as he hoped at forgetting. And of course, all of them just kept saying one word.

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Why?""Why?"Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?""Why?"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he screamed, falling to his knees. He recognized them. All of them. Part of him wished he'd at least managed to forget a few, but he saw all of them, all of his victims, coming out, the marks of his blades all over their bodies.

Or at least, most of their bodies. Because among them one figure, average in height, slender in shoulder, with tan skin and short black hair emerged. But he shouldn't have been able to, because he was missing both of his legs as well as both his arms. Emiya had remembered seeing this one, the friend he had failed so utterly, that time so many months ago.

"Why?" Arash asked, looking down at Emiya, a sadness on his face, "Why couldn't you save me?"

"I asked you to run with us!" Emiya screamed. He knew it was futile. Arash was gone, his friend was gone, and all he was doing was arguing with a shadow. But that didn't matter, Arash was someone he failed. Why didn't the Persian Archer have the right to question him? Emiya placed his hands on his ears, all to try and keep the question out of his mind. He then screamed at once more, "Leave me alone!"

And then, the questions stopped. Emiya blinked, before he looked around. The apparitions of his sins were gone, and the fires, the fires in front of him seemed to have died out. He blinked again, and then, after a moment, he fell backward onto his ass.

"Wha?" he asked before continuing to look around. The fires were now but ashes, and that left Emiya, just sitting in the leftovers of the flames. He ran his fingers through a small pile right next to him, and watched the black soot slip through his fingers. For the next moment, he just sat there. The moment after that.

"Ha," he coughed. He closed his mouth, trying to keep control, but a moment later, when he had to take a breath, it came again, "Ha!" and then, he couldn't help it, he began to cackle, "HAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

For the next minute and a half, he just sat in the soot, the ashes of his victims, and laughed. He couldn't help himself, as he just kept laughing and cackling. He was laughing so hard, that it took him about a minute to realize that he wasn't laughing anymore, as he could finally fell that his tears were flowing down his cheeks, and his laughs sounded far more like sobs. He slowly leaned forward, and buried his hands in his soot.

"Why?"

'Don't look,' Emiya snapped his eyelids shut. He'd heard her voice behind him, and he knew that if he looked back, he'd probably be sent over the edge. He was barely able to keep control of himself as it was, if he could even claim that level of control, 'Don't look,' he gritted his teeth, and squinted his eyelids as tight as he could, "Don't loo-"

"Why?"

But Emiya couldn't help it. He turned his head, and looked to where he'd heard Artoria's voice.

It seemed that there was one final fire going, and this was larger and more terrifying than any of the others. It engulfed a massive stone structure, a castle most likely, and seemed to be taking its time to be devoured by the flames. Yet that only seemed to make the flames hotter, as even from this distance, Emiya could feel the hairs on his skin singe under the inferno's heat. He almost made to stand up, only to blink, when he saw, between he and the great fire, was Artoria Pendragon.

But she was not the resplendent knight he knew. Her armor was covered in soot, the blue silk of her dress singed and burned beyond repair. Her hair was no longer inside its customary bun, and half of it seemed to have been burned away. She still held herself as tall as her frame would allow, but there was an exhaustion in her stance that he'd never seen before. He almost wondered why she was like this, until he realized she was standing in front of six poles.

Six poles…with heads displayed at their top.

"Why?" he heard Artoria ask again, "I did nothing to you? I was safe, my lands secure. My family large and healthy?" there was a warble at the back of her throat, and it made Emiya wish to vomit, "So why is my life now all ash? Why are my children and husband gone? Why has my family been killed?"

Finally, she turned. Her face was more filled with pain and misery than anything he'd ever seen before. The woman, who'd done more for those around her than anyone should of suspected, looked like she'd truly, finally be beaten. And in her eyes, all he could see was misery and hate.

With all of that pointed directly at him.

"Why couldn't you just leave me alone!" and Emiya's heart was stabbed right through. The only reason Artoria wasn't crying was because it seemed she'd long ago run out of tears "Why did you have to come and ruin everything for me!?"

"I," was all Emiya could stammer, "I."

"WHY WON'T GO AWAY AND YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"...I will."

Emiya saw a great shadow begin to over take the flames. Quickly, the whole of the world around him seemed to be covered and absorbed the great inky darkness. Even the ash was absorbed by the darkness. Artoria was the last thing standing, giving him a look of hate that Emiya had always known he deserved, but always feared to get. But even she was soon sucked into the new eternal knight, leaving Emiya alone to himself.

"I will leave you alone," Emiya brought his arms up, and slowly shifted to his side, lying down, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Slowly, Emiya could feel his own body begin to be absorbed by the great black-inkyness that was washing over him. But…he couldn't fight it. He wasn't sure if he had any mana left now. All he could do was lie there, staring where Artoria had been standing.

'I'll go away,' he thought as the shadow began to cover his head, 'I'll go away, and you'll never have to worry about me hurting you again.'

He gave one last conscious look to the world around him, and then closed his eyes to be absorbed.

'I am so sorry.'