And so, Uruk began its full mobilization.
Under the guidance of Siduri, the scribes, and the soldiers, the two hundred thousand citizens moved swiftly toward the underground shelters beneath the Divine Tower.
For this, the citizens were forbidden from bringing any possessions—only small personal items, not even food beyond what could be carried on the body, to avoid straining the shelters' limited space.
Thus, the fruits of their labor and the treasures they had carefully preserved could not be taken. They could only bring their families into the shelters, abandoning everything else in Uruk, left to waste.
After all, once the Laḫmu broke into Uruk and the black mud poured into the city, everything here would be destroyed. To see these things again would be impossible.
Of course, none voiced any complaint.
At that point, the very continuation of humanity would be in question.
If humanity perished, what use would possessions be?
If humanity survived, to still be alive would already be fortune enough. Who would cling to material things?
Thus thought the people of Uruk. Their movements were decisive, orderly. They lined the streets in rows, forming long lines that entered the ziggurat, through its base, and into the shelters.
This operation lasted until night.
When all citizens had entered, the barriers set within the shelters were activated.
At that point, only tens of thousands of Sumerians remained in Uruk.
These were volunteers—soldiers who chose to fight for Uruk and for humanity.
Though their numbers were pitiful compared to the Laḫmu hordes, though their strength was almost negligible—especially with Rozen's army of familiars, and Quetzalcoatl's legions of wyverns and beastmen already standing—their presence was hardly necessary. It would have been better for them to take refuge.
But still, they chose to stay.
No matter how meager their strength, these soldiers wished to give what they could.
Thus, Gilgamesh did not drive them away. Instead, he stationed them within the Divine Tower, entrusting them with the Divine Seals.
For the war to come, Gilgamesh transformed the entire Divine Tower into a fortress. At every window and watchtower, a Divine Seal was placed.
When the Laḫmu attacked, those seals would all serve as cannons, unleashing continuous bombardment that the Laḫmu would not withstand.
The gathered Servants, too, stationed themselves around the Divine Tower, each leading armies of familiars, wyverns, and beastmen, preparing to meet the Laḫmu within Uruk.
Outside the barrier that covered Uruk, the Laḫmu multiplied ceaselessly, their numbers swelling until, by dawn, the outside world had become theirs—densely packed shadows everywhere.
Crack…!
In that moment, from one corner of the barrier, came the faint sound of fracturing.
Though soft, all heard it.
"Is it beginning?"
All in Chaldea held their breath.
"Is it beginning?"
In the underworld, where she tended the countless spirits slain by Laḫmu, the goddess lifted her head toward the earth.
"Is it beginning?"
In the crevice of a far-off future world, within a prison tower, the magus of flowers gazed afar, as though perceiving through time and space, watching this land.
"Is it beginning?"
The Servants looked skyward, toward the swarming Laḫmu, their bodies flaring with mana.
"Is it beginning?"
Even the King of Heroes atop the ziggurat opened his eyes, his lips curving into a fearless grin.
And upon Uruk's wall, gazing at the barrier that cloaked the city, stood a man in a jet-black coat. His voice rose, calm and steady.
"Let it begin."
That was the final horn.
Crack, crack, crack, crack…!
The barrier over Uruk reached its limit. Cracks spread, grating on the teeth.
The glowing shield grew ragged, rent with fractures.
Then—
BOOM!
With a shattering roar, the barrier broke, scattering into fragments, vanishing utterly.
The voices of the Laḫmu rang through Uruk.
"It's broken! It's broken!"
"That hateful barrier is gone!"
"Hunt the humans!"
"Hunt them down!"
"Hahaha!"
The familiar, grating laughter filled the sky as the swarm descended, a dark cloud of Laḫmu flooding into Uruk.
At this sight, atop the Divine Tower, Gilgamesh's grin vanished.
"Fire!"
His roar thundered.
And so, against those monsters that would never accept humanity—and would never be accepted by it—the fires of war ignited.
"""""OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH————!!!"""""
Countless humans, beasts, beastmen, wyverns, dragons, and all manner of spirits and demons roared in unison, striking back at the invading Laḫmu.
Dragons and wyverns soared into the skies.
The cannons of the Divine Seals fired like meteor showers.
Demons and phantoms shrieked as they lunged.
Even the Servants rose into the air, meeting the Laḫmu in furious combat.
The war erupted in an instant.
Within Uruk, the city rang with roars, howls, explosions, thunder, and screams. War had descended.
A battle destined to darken the heavens.
A battle destined to flood the ground with blood.
Humanity, with familiars and beasts, clashed with Laḫmu. Across every corner of Uruk, savage duels unfolded.
And among them, the Servants shone brightest, cutting through the Laḫmu hordes, slaughtering ceaselessly, unleashing their power until the very air seemed to wail.
The final war between humanity's forces and the Evils of Humanity had begun in earnest.
At the same time, the tidal black mud surged in from beyond Uruk, crashing into its walls, scorching the stone.
Then—
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa————!!
The cry of humanity's ultimate enemy thundered, as if from beyond the heavens, shaking the air itself.
The colossal form of the Primordial Goddess, shadow vast enough to blot out the sky, rose from the far side of the black sea.
Rozen gazed upon her.
And in his eyes burned a gleam of light.