Fuyuki City Civic Center.
This massive building was still under construction and not yet open to the public. In the vast hall, on a raised platform, Illya lay quietly.
This was the heart of Fuyuki City's ley lines, where the Holy Grail would descend. Flandre and Artoria were absent; only Arthas sat there, gently holding his wife's hand.
Arthas waited, anticipating the arrival of the Grail-seeking Servants and Masters, to kill them one by one, become the final victor, and summon the Grail.
Pity, mercy—these were superfluous now. To obtain the Grail, to save Illya, Arthas would stop at nothing.
He glanced back at the frail Illya. With each Servant's demise, the Lesser Grail neared completion; Illya was almost translucent.
"Am I dying…" Illya murmured, turning her head to look at the silent Arthas, managing a pale smile.
"Anything you want to say?" Arthas rested his head on the edge of the platform, lying beside Illya, gazing at the twinkling stars, speaking casually.
"Ah… I'm just… lucky. To open my eyes one last time, to see you, to feel your presence, to have you by my side." Illya whispered.
"As a homunculus, a doll, I was created to be a vessel. I couldn't decide my own life; I was at others' mercy." Illya raised a hand, gazing at her almost invisible skin.
"I'm dying… though I was prepared, I feel strangely uneasy… I wanted… I wanted to see more of this world."
"Really, why are you crying again?"
Illya said this with a touch of petulance, wiping away Arthas's tears.
"Don't be sad… Arthas." Her pale hand gently touched his face.
"Promise me you'll win the Grail War, use the Grail's wish, and then forget me and return to the one you truly love."
Arthas didn't reply, only tightening his grip on Illya's hand.
He would never do that, but Illya didn't seem to mind; she'd said what she needed to say.
"The stars are beautiful… here."
Illya whispered, her eyes turning to Arthas, like a joyful little girl, like Illya.
"You know, Arthas, the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the Einzbern patriarch, Justeaze von Einzbern. He showed me a photograph and told me that from today, this man would be my husband."
Arthas's grip tightened.
"I didn't even know what a husband was. Though I had an adult's appearance, I was more like a little girl. Then I learned, understood what it meant to be a wife, and prepared to be Kiritsugu Emiya's wife."
Illya laughed involuntarily.
"Then, like a cruel joke of fate, you, Arthas, appeared—stronger than Kiritsugu—and the patriarch changed his mind, making me your wife."
"Of course, it didn't matter to me then. Kiritsugu Emiya or the sudden stranger, my purpose was to be a tool, to exchange for a powerful Servant for the Einzberns."
Illya stuck out her tongue playfully, a gesture that only filled Arthas with pain and heartache.
"Um… Arthas, you're not angry, are you? I didn't even understand what love was when we got married."
Arthas remained silent. Illya spoke more, her spirits lifted, but Arthas felt no joy; he knew it was a last flicker of life.
"But over time, it changed. You're so kind, always thinking of me, treating me, a homunculus, as the most precious thing in the world. Even though you reluctantly married me, you have someone you truly love waiting…"
"Perhaps it's the legendary 'love at first sight'?"
"Yes… love at first sight."
Arthas laughed, a laugh filled with sorrow.
"You're terrible, Arthas. Why are you making such embarrassing jokes?!"
Understanding the implication, Illya's face flushed crimson, her pale cheeks blooming with color, making her look incredibly alluring.
"It's wonderful. I, a heartless homunculus, experienced love. I learned what love truly is."
Illya said this, her vibrant voice weakening. Her grip on Arthas's hand loosened; her revived complexion turned deathly pale again, and Illya peacefully closed her eyes.
Silence descended. Arthas hung his head, his face buried in his upturned collar, his expression hidden.
Is this sorrow?
Perhaps…
Such intense emotion, a pain that felt like tearing his body apart.
Then, with a deafening roar, the Civic Center's doors were blown away, and a Servant in golden armor strode in calmly.
"You mongrel, you were hard to find. Is this your chosen grave? Where's your Servant? Or do you intend to face me alone?!"
Archer, striding into the Civic Center, sneered, his crimson eyes cruelly fixed on Arthas, filled with unspeakable killing intent.
"It's time… to end everything." Slowly raising his head, Arthas's black eyes were now covered with a layer of icy blue, cold and unreadable.
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