To ensure that no one fought with lingering concerns, Gilgamesh immediately gave his command.
"Siduri. Take the scribes and the soldiers below. Begin the arrangements. Have the citizens enter the underground shelters at once. Once all citizens are within, activate the barrier placed inside the shelters. Guard their safety at all costs."
Such was Gilgamesh's order.
The shelters lay directly beneath Uruk. If the Laḫmu broke into the city and the battle unfolded on the surface, the ground might shatter, and with the shelters' entrances exposed, discovery by the Laḫmu would spell certain doom.
For that reason, Gilgamesh had already placed treasures within the shelters—artifacts meant to unfurl impregnable barriers to prevent catastrophe from the battle's aftershocks.
"Once the evacuation is complete, remain within as well. Do not come back out."
Gilgamesh turned to Siduri and, for once, gave a rare and solemn admonition.
"I…"
Siduri opened her mouth but found no words to speak.
She knew well: if she stayed, she would be of no use.
Though she was the high priestess of the temple, her strength was no greater than that of an ordinary soldier. Should she remain in Uruk, she would be trampled like grass on the roadside, fragile and powerless.
Her staying would only be a burden.
"You should go, Siduri."
Even Ishtar spoke so. It was clear: both she and Gilgamesh held Siduri's safety close to heart.
This aide had been by Gilgamesh's side since his youth, witnessing nearly his entire life. Even when Uruk was reduced to ruins during his descent into the underworld in search of the herb of immortality, Siduri alone had stayed, waiting for his return. To Gilgamesh, her place was far different from others.
And to Ishtar, Siduri was her most faithful worshipper.
For others they could be indifferent—but for Siduri, they could not help but care.
Siduri understood this.
And so—
"…I understand."
She turned, facing everyone.
"I shall pray for you all, that you may return safe, and repel Tiamat."
With those words, Siduri bowed deeply to all present—the greatest bow she had ever given.
Everyone returned her gaze, offering her, the devoted aide, their deepest respect.
Rozen and Mash stepped forward.
"Thank you for everything during this time, Miss Siduri."
Mash returned the bow with one of her own.
"Leave the rest to us."
Rozen, too, looked upon Siduri and, in rare gentleness, gave his assurance.
Siduri bowed once more, then departed the throne hall with the scribes and soldiers in tow.
The hall immediately felt emptier.
Gilgamesh, watching her leave, spoke again.
"By tomorrow, the two hundred thousand citizens will all be within the shelters. Uruk will stand empty."
"At that moment, Uruk will become the battlefield, and the prey of the Laḫmu."
"Such creatures cannot be wiped out by simple slaughter. Our task will be to hold the shelter's entrance, bar the Laḫmu, and protect the people."
"The shelter's entrance lies at the base of this Tower. Then we shall form our defense line here, at the tower's center, and meet the Laḫmu in battle."
"The enemy now takes the form of flying beasts. The city walls of Uruk are worthless. So wreak havoc as you will across the city's four sides. Only remember this—when you unleash your Noble Phantasms, do not aim at the ground. Do not shatter it beneath us."
With that, Gilgamesh turned to Rozen.
"As for Tiamat, she is yours."
"Use your methods to weaken her Saint Graph. Reduce its scale back to its initial state. Then bind her with the Rope of Shackles and seal her away."
"As for what becomes of her after she is sealed—that is not my concern. Do with her as you please."
At those words, Rozen lowered his head, gazing at the Rope of Shackles in his hand.
"Can it truly succeed…?"
So he wondered, gripping the rope tightly.
Then, from beside him, a hand reached out—clasping the fist that held the rope.
Startled, Rozen turned.
And there he saw Mash, her eyes locked on his, brimming with support, encouragement, and resolve.
"It will succeed."
Mash spoke with certainty.
"If it doesn't, then all will have been for nothing."
Artoria [Alter] spoke coldly.
"Well, in that case, we can all go to hell together."
Jeanne [Alter] gave a careless laugh.
"Rozen-sama will definitely succeed."
Hassan of Serenity voiced her absolute faith.
Others turned to him as well.
"It's all yours, Master."
Ishtar smiled brightly.
"Big Sister here is counting on you, juventud."
Quetzalcoatl gave him a thumbs-up.
"Though it has been a strange journey, it is still fate. Let me stay with you until the very end."
Ryougi Shiki said, her gaze steady.
"O future taxpayer—fight, and then hire me afterward!"
Jaguar Man bellowed.
"A shame I can't recruit you into my gun squad! Hahaha!"
Nobunaga laughed heartily.
In that moment, every gaze fell upon Rozen.
Even Gilgamesh.
"Should you succeed, mankind will part ways with the gods, transcend the Evils of Humanity, and step into a new age."
"Should you fail, all traces of humanity upon this planet will be erased."
"This is the step upon which rests the salvation of human history—of human order itself."
"Once it is taken, the so-called Incineration of Humanity will at last be truly resolved."
Gilgamesh fixed his eyes upon Rozen.
"You are no longer merely humanity's hope. You are our champion—humanity's challenge against the catastrophe of the primate world."
"Human ferocity, human sin, all will be laid bare before you."
"I opened the future of mankind, opened its era. You are the inheritor."
"Do not let my work be undone, Rozen."
For the first time, Gilgamesh addressed him like this.
It meant that the King of Uruk had entrusted the future itself.
The oldest hero of mankind, the oldest king, here and now, placed the world in Rozen's hands.
Rozen understood it all.
And so—
"Leave it to me."
He gave the best reply.
Within Chaldea, Da Vinci, Olga Marie, and many others gazed upon their Master, struck silent.
Roman, too, watched—his face a mix of pride and sorrow.
"May you take back your own future with your own hands… my little brother."
Such words, softly, quietly, echoed forth.
And lingered long without fading.