The white ash of what had once been the Archer settled over the ravaged courtyard. For a long moment, the only sounds were the ringing in Gudako's ears and the distant, hungry crackle of city-wide fires. The silence felt unnatural, a vacuum left in the wake of overwhelming violence.
Then, it broke.
"We did it," Gudako breathed, the words a raw, breathless sound, half-sob, half-laugh. "Oh my god, Mash, we actually did it!"
She stumbled forward, throwing her arms around Mash's armoured frame. Mash, bone-weary but solid as a fortress, returned the hug with a steadying strength that was all Servant. Across the courtyard, Cú Chulainn leaned heavily on his staff, a wide, weary, but deeply satisfied grin splitting his face.
"See?" he said, his voice laced with pride. "Told you brats you had it in you."
Even Olga Marie, who had stood rigid with terror just moments before, allowed the iron-tight line of her lips to soften. It was a fleeting expression, but one of profound relief. They had gambled, and they had won. They had survived.
"It's finally over," Gudako whispered into Mash's shoulder pauldron, the adrenaline finally draining away, leaving a bone-deep exhaustion in its place.
Cú's grin vanished. His expression turned sharp as he looked past them, his crimson eyes fixed on the glowing, two-mile-wide caldera that had once been a mountain. An unnatural silence emanated from it, a void where the roar of battle had been.
"What is it?" Olga asked, her own relief evaporating at his change in demeanour. "What's wrong?"
"No, kid," Cú said, his voice low and serious, answering Gudako's earlier statement. He gestured with his staff toward the pulsating light at the crater's heart. "That's over."
The reality of his words hit them. The main fight. The clash between the true monsters of this Singularity.
Cú moved without another word, scooping Olga into his arms. She let out a startled yelp, her face flushing crimson, a protest already forming on her lips. But the fight had drained her of everything, and with a small, frustrated sigh, she sagged against him, burying her face in his shoulder.
"Mash," he commanded, his tone now all business. "Carry our Master. Let's go."
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They arrived at the crater's edge to a scene of profound, quiet finality. There, in the centre of the molten devastation, stood Sukuna.
He was a canvas of seared flesh and torn silk, his kimono in tatters. Blood dripped from a dozen wounds, and his entire body steamed as the faint, visible sparks of Reverse Cursed Technique knitted him back together. Before him, Saber Alter's form was fading, a perfect, clean line—an impossible wound from which there was no recovery—drawn across her torso.
The dying king's head turned, her gaze fixing on the newly arrived group. Her voice, thin as glass yet carrying the weight of a collapsing kingdom, echoed across the chasm.
"This was but the first… This is your… Grand Order…"
The words struck Olga with the force of a physical blow. Her breath hitched. "Grand… Order?" she whispered in horrified disbelief. "How…?"
Saber did not answer. The corruption in her form died for a final time, revealing for a single, heartbreaking instant, the pure, unblemished face of Artoria Pendragon. Her gaze met Sukuna's, her expression not of hatred, but of weary acknowledgment. It was a silent exchange between sovereigns; an understanding of a battle fought to its absolute conclusion.
Sukuna, his four eyes watching her, his face an impassive mask, returned the gesture with a slow, silent nod of his own.
And then, she was gone, her form dissolving into a whisper of golden light that was quickly swallowed by the burning red sky.
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A stunned silence hung over the crater's edge. Gudako and Mash exchanged confused, questioning looks. Grand Order? The words meant nothing to them.
For Olga, they meant everything. The brittle façade of the Director finally cracked, revealing the terrified woman beneath. Her hands trembled as she clutched at her own arms. "Grand Order…" she repeated, her voice a reedy whisper. "How could she know that name? How is that possible?"
The tension was broken by a loud, hearty smack. Cú had strode right up to Sukuna and clapped him firmly on the back, a wide, predatory grin splitting his face.
"Not bad, King," Cú boomed, his voice echoing in the quiet devastation. "Not bad at all. You took down the big one."
Sukuna felt the Hound's hand on his back, a familiar, if irritating, gesture of warrior camaraderie. His four eyes remained fixed on the last fading motes of light. A worthy opponent. To think he would face another challenger of this calibre so soon after the Honored One. A small, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips. He did not need praise, but he would not deny the fact.
Olga, still reeling from Saber's words, forced the confusion down. Protocol took over where relief left off. They had won. "Mash, the Grail. Retrieve it," she commanded, her voice regaining its sharp, authoritative edge. She turned away, tapping the communication device on her wrist. "Romani, come in! We've secured the objective! The Singularity is resolved! Begin preparations for an immediate Rayshift!"
As Mash started forward, Sukuna's head snapped towards the crater's centre. The faint smirk vanished, replaced by an expression of cold, dangerous focus. Every instinct, honed over three centuries of absolute dominance, screamed at him.
The battle was over. This place should have been a void, an empty stage. Yet, he perceived a dissonance. A single, unnatural thread of power that did not belong. It was subtle, masked by the residual heat of his own techniques, but it was there.
There, where the Grail should have been, a new figure stood, as if he had been there all along. A man in a simple green suit and a matching hat, holding the glowing, corrupted artifact casually in one hand. He radiated a profound, cloying wrongness.
The man looked up, his gaze passing over Sukuna as if he were a piece of the scenery, and settled directly on Olga. He gave a warm, paternal smile.
The effect was instantaneous. The confusion on Olga's face dissolved into desperate, disbelieving relief. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. Her voice, when it came out, was not that of a director, but of a lost child.
"Lev…?"
On her wrist, Romani's voice crackled to life, filled with a joy. "Lev?! My god, you're alive! How did you survive the explosion?!"
Tears of relief streamed down Olga's face as she took a stumbling step forward. "Lev! You're here! We've won!"
Lev's smile was warm as he watched her approach. "Dear Olga," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "You've done magnificently. Truly, you have surpassed every expectation."
The praise was a balm on her frayed soul. Just as a genuine, relieved smile touched her lips, Lev's expression shifted. The warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, flat line.
"Now, all that's left is to clean up the loose ends," he said, his voice losing all its warmth. "It's time for this foolish little rebellion to die."
The air went still. Cú's hand tightened on his staff. Mash took a half-step in front of Gudako, her shield held tight.
"Lev, what are you talking about?" Olga whispered, her hope turning to ice in her veins.
"I must admit, I am disappointed," he said, his tone a bored lecture. "This Singularity was designed to be a self-contained catastrophe. You were all meant to perish here, lost in the flames." His gaze flickered to Sukuna, and a look of clear annoyance crossed his face. "But I did not account for him. An unexpected player on the board."
He turned his cold, pitying eyes back to Olga. "And you, Director. The most tragic piece of all." He gestured to her faded hair. "Did you truly think you survived the explosion? You died in the command room. You are a ghost, and you're fading fast."
Olga staggered back as if struck, a hand flying to her own hair. The world seemed to tilt, the sounds of the caldera fading to a dull roar in her ears.
Lev held up the Grail, the black mud within it swirling. "But don't worry," he said with a cruel smile. "Your spirit still has value. It will make a fine contribution."
An invisible force seized Olga, lifting her into the air and pulling her helplessly toward him.
That was the trigger.
"NO!" Mash roared, a guttural cry of pure protective fury. She charged forward, her shield raised high. Cú Chulainn was right behind her, his staff flaring with blue runic light.
Before either could reach him, Lev's free hand shot up, a sphere of dark energy gathering in his palm, aimed directly at Olga's head.
"Hold. RIGHT. THERE," his voice was a cold, sharp command that froze both of them in their tracks. He sneered at their helpless rage. "Make so much as a twitch, and what little is left of your director will be so much ash on the wind."
He held them there, paralyzed, forcing them to watch as Olga sobbed, completely broken and suspended in the air. His cruel smile widened as he noticed the still-active comms on Olga's wrist. An audience. How perfect. He chose to address the frantic voice on the other end directly.
On Olga's wrist, Romani's projected voice roared, a sound of pure, helpless fury. "Lev! What is the meaning of this?! Answer me! Why?!"
In response, Lev Lainur Flauros performed a grand, theatrical bow, a gesture of profound, mocking respect. "You still believe I am a mere errand boy to the Director?" he sneered, his voice dripping with condescending pity. "Romani Archaman, you truly are a sentimental fool. Let me enlighten you. The man you knew is dead. My name… is Lev Lainur Flauros."
"Flauros…?" Romani's voice crackled, the rage gone, replaced by a single, hollow mutter of disbelieving horror.
As Lev straightened, his triumphant gaze fell upon the empty space where his captive had been. His head whipped around, eyes widening in genuine shock. There, twenty feet away, the four-armed King of Curses was setting a stunned and broken Olga Marie gently on the ground, his back still turned.
"Your performance was decent," Sukuna said, his voice a low, cold rumble. "But you made a critical error in judgment… you thought you were in charge." He turned then, Kamutoke and Hiten held ready in his upper hands. "To act high and mighty in front of a King is one thing," Sukuna stated, his four crimson eyes locking onto Lev. "But to disrespect me by taking my property was the height of folly. What gave you the gall to even attempt it?"
Lev's face contorted into a mask of pure rage. "You dare?! You are an insect! An anomaly in a game you cannot even begin to fathom!"
A slow, predatory smirk spread across Sukuna's faces. "Perhaps," he rumbled, his voice laced with cold amusement. "But between the two of us, it is you who is the insect."
The battle ignited in a heartbeat. Sukuna vanished. Hiten screamed through the air in a horizontal arc aimed to cleave Lev in two. The demon reacted with inhuman speed, a wall of dark, geometric energy materializing to block the blow. But the moment his focus committed to the physical parry, Sukuna's true attack struck. An invisible blade of Dismantle slipped past the barrier's edge, slicing cleanly through Lev's outstretched arm.
He let out a grunt of pain and surprise, but Sukuna was already on him. Slamming the butt of Hiten into the pavement, a focused gust of wind erupted, propelling him forward. His lower right hand shot out, grabbing Lev's other arm—the one holding the Grail—by the wrist. The flesh felt wrong, artificial.
"Cleave."
The word was a quiet death sentence. Lev's arm was unmade, shredding from the inside out into a shower of black, synthetic filaments. The Holy Grail tumbled from his ruined grip, clattering onto the cracked pavement. From the stump of his shoulder, a monstrous, black tentacle, studded with unblinking, blood red eyes, erupted with a wet squelch. It whipped through the air, swatting Sukuna with the force of a wrecking ball. He was sent flying, crashing through a rusted bus before skidding to a halt.
"YOU MADE A MISTAKE!" Lev bellowed, his voice a distorted chorus. "You should have stayed a nameless ghost! Now you will face the might of a true Demon God Pillar!"
As Lev boasted, a violent aura—a dark, blood-red mimicry of Saber's Mana Burst—erupted around Sukuna's form. His pale skin took on a crimson tint, his muscles aching with an exhilarating strain. He launched himself forward. He appeared directly in front of Lev's shocked face. His upper right fist was a blur, impacting the demon's chest. For a fraction of a second, space itself seemed to twist as a flash of black and crimson energy erupted on contact. A Cleave-infused Black Flash.
Lev's body was blasted backwards, a cannonball of flesh that slammed into the crater wall. He didn't get up. His form convulsed, melting and reshaping into a writhing mass of eyes and tentacles, an abomination shedding its human shell. At that moment, the entire Singularity shuddered violently, the ground cracking under their feet. A crazed, gurgling laugh echoed from the shifting mass.
"TOO LATE!" the chorus of voices screamed, its glare fixing on Olga. "She is already dead! Her rescue is for naught! You are lucky, anomaly… lucky this world is collapsing…! The age of man is already over!"
With that final, triumphant threat, his form dissolved and vanished.
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Sukuna exhaled, a slow, deliberate breath. Reverse Cursed Technique coursed through him, stitching his last of his wounds shut. The backlash from the copied Mana Burst was a novel sensation. His blood felt like it was boiling, a searing, internal heat, and his entire musculature thrummed with an unnatural, profound ache. He regarded it with a detached, academic curiosity. So this was the exhilarating, if strenuous, price for forcibly adapting a sorcery system entirely alien to his own. The technique needed refinement, but it was a new tool.
The Singularity began to shake with a renewed, violent intensity, the very ground groaning as reality itself started to unravel. Sukuna turned and strode back towards the small group of survivors. He found Cú Chulainn standing protectively before Gudako and Mash, who were knelt beside Olga's catatonic form. Over her wrist, the holographic projection of Dr. Romani's face was frozen in a rictus of despair as his voice crackled over the comms, a frantic announcement that they had less than a minute before total collapse.
A slow, amused smirk spread across Sukuna's faces. He directed his gaze towards the projection. "An intriguing gambit, Doctor," he began, his voice cutting through Olga's muted sobs with cold clarity. "Allowing these fools to retrieve the Grail, with the full intention of Rayshifting them out while leaving the 'demon' behind." The ground beneath them cracked, a fissure spiderwebbing towards the group. "An elegant solution to rid yourselves of an unwanted variable. It was your best option, was it not?"
After a long, charged silence, Romani's voice was a strained whisper. "...It was."
Sukuna let out a dry, knowing chuckle. "To be expected. Why would you trust me?" His amusement deepened as a chunk of rubble crashed nearby, forcing Cú to sidestep. "But you knew, did you not? That this woman no longer possesses a physical body in your world. That any promise she made to me would become void the instant this place ceased to exist." He was laughing now, a low, rumbling sound of genuine contempt for their clumsy, desperate scheming. "You allowed her to make a pact you had no intention of honouring." He turned his four eyes towards Olga's flickering, semi-transparent form. "Luckily for you, Romani Archaman, I am not yet ready for this farce to end. How about a new pact? I will salvage this woman's pitiful existence. In return… you grant me passage to your headquarters."
Another pause, this one thick with the weight of an impossible choice, the roar of the collapsing world growing louder. Finally, Romani's voice returned, tight with resignation. "...Agreed."
"I require time," Sukuna stated. As the world outside their immediate position began to dissolve into a void of pure, white nothingness, he formed a familiar hand sign.
"Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine."
Instantly, a silent black sphere materialized, a perfect 20-meter dome that encompassed the group. Inside the barrier, the violent tremors stopped. The screams of a dying reality were reduced to a distant hum. Cú could only stare, his warrior's respect deepening into profound awe at the sight of an ultimate offensive weapon being deployed as the ultimate anchor.
A Binding Vow, made in an instant. By forfeiting the Domain's inescapable sure-hit effect and reducing its vast radius, Sukuna transformed his Shrine into a temporary, absolute anchor for reality. The sheer cursed energy required for such a feat was impossible for any sorcerer. But Sukuna was not just any sorcerer. Even so, the drain was immense.
Kneeling beside Olga's body, Sukuna placed two fingers on her forehead, and she went limp, forced into unconsciousness. With a flick of his wrist, he used Dismantle to make a small, precise cut on a finger on his lower arm. As crimson blood welled up, he began to draw a complex, glowing circle on the ground around her. The blood-red tint that had stained his skin from the Mana Burst began to deepen, a sign of the immense strain he was under.
"Long ago, when I grew weary of my era," Sukuna began, his voice a flat, instructional tone as he drew, "I used a technique devised by a far more irritating mind than my own. A method to distil one's soul into Cursed Objects… pieces that could withstand the ravages of time and allow for incarnation in a new vessel." He finished the circle and gently placed Olga's spectral form in its centre, then began to paint a series of intricate seals directly onto her fading form.
A low whistle came from Cú. "You sure have a neat bag of tricks."
"Live as long as I have, sorcerer," Sukuna replied without looking up, "and you learn a few things." He finished the last seal and placed a hand on her head. The world dissolved.
He now stood in a pristine, sterile Director's office. Olga was huddled under the massive desk, a sobbing child whispering about her failures. Sukuna strode to the desk. Hearing his footsteps, she looked up, her golden eyes wide with shock.
"Was all you ever chased the praise of another?" Sukuna asked, his voice an impassive rumble.
Sniffling, she replied, "I just… I wanted to be recognized for what I've done. And all I ended up with was… this. A dead failure."
Sukuna paused. "If you do not value yourself," he stated, "their recognition is meaningless ash." He regarded her for a moment, a flicker of something almost akin to intellectual curiosity in his four eyes. "Your existence is pitiful... but it is not without a certain… utility." He leaned down, his crimson eyes locking onto hers. "I am offering a transaction. A vow. I will grant you the continuation of your existence. In return, you will swear to provide me with all the knowledge of this world's sorcery that is within your power to access, and you will guarantee me an audience with the one you call Zelretch."
She stared at him, tearful but stunned. Then, she gave a single, desperate nod. She accepted.
The world snapped back to the Malevolent Shrine. Olga's body was gone. In Sukuna's outstretched hand rested a single, pale, distinctly female finger, its nail long and painted white, intricately marked with a glowing, crimson Animusphere crest. He looked down at the discarded communication device on the floor. "The pact is made."
Romani's voice, now resolute, came from the device. "Mash, temporarily dissolve your contract with Fujimaru! You must become his Servant! It's the only anchor strong enough to pull you both through the Rayshift!"
Mash hesitated, looking at Gudako. Her Master offered a shaky but determined smile, nodding once. Trust. Mash closed her eyes and broke the contract. She extended her hand towards Sukuna. He met it with his own. A brilliant blue light flared between them, and a set of new Command Seals burned themselves into the back of his lower right hand. The strain of anchoring reality became fully visible. A sheen of sweat covered his brow, and his hands, holding the new Cursed Object, trembled almost imperceptibly.
"Rayshift commencing!" Romani's voice cried out.
As their forms dissolved in a column of brilliant light, the Malevolent Shrine shattered behind them. With its anchor gone, the last vestiges of the Fuyuki Singularity collapsed in on themselves, finally erased from existence.
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Author's Note
Hey everyone,
First off, I'm really sorry for the long delay. The universe seems to have it out for me, because I've come down with COVID.
If you're an old reader, especially from Webnovel, you might remember my story, (Of Aliens, Magic and Superheros). You might also remember that as I was rewriting it, I got into a car accident that nearly killed me and left me with almost no vision in my right eye.
Well, I think I'm cursed. I had just started rewriting that same story again, and now this. So... fuck.
Anyway, what you're reading here isn't the final draft. I seem to have lost that file in the mess. Once I'm feeling human again, I promise I'll get the proper version out to all of you.
Thanks for sticking with me and for reading.
Ciao.