"…Thank you. I love you all. Vive la France!"
Lightspeed.
"You came, Sanson."
"—Indeed, I did, Marie."
The queen and her executioner face each other. The one who was taken and the one who took, now standing across time's divide.
"There's a qualification for execution—for both the doer and the done. Only I can execute you, Marie. You feel it too, don't you?"
Shing. He draws his sword, the blade that severs sinners and saves them, now aimed at Marie.
"You joined the Dragon Witch… just to kill me?"
"Exactly. I waited for you, Marie. I believed you'd come. I honed my craft, sharper and sharper, killing and killing and killing the people of France."
Sanson smiles, his bloodstained blade glinting red and glossy.
"I was taught everything as an executioner. Not just resolve—everything. And I aimed beyond that."
He takes his stance, eyes locked on his target.
"The pinnacle—pleasure. That moment when the head falls, it's 'deathly euphoric.' That's all I sought, Marie."
He speaks, enraptured, intoxicated.
"I had to know, Marie."
Sanson declares, deliberate and slow.
"How was my blade? Did it bring you to ecstasy?"
"I can't answer that, Sanson. It's not something to say, nor something I want to. We already have one perverse idealist—I can't handle two."
Marie responds with resolve, radiant as a flower banishing the stench of death.
"I know. So next time, I'll do better. I practiced. I took so many heads. All to give you a more splendid moment. Killing, killing, killing, killing…"
All for you. That's what Sanson's words meant.
"Give me another chance, Marie. Next time, I'll do it even better."
"—Very well, Sanson."
Marie nods, gently baring her neck.
"If you've truly 'improved,' your blade should reach me. Go on—test it. Show me what you've built in France. Show me if it was just."
Her voice carries no fear, no dread, as she challenges Sanson.
His body trembles.
"Thank you. Thank you, Marie. You're as splendid as ever."
He raises his blade slowly.
"Leave it to me—I'll make you—"
He charges, his blade—
"—feel divine!"
It descends toward her neck—
But it doesn't reach.
The blade, swung with force, is stopped cold by a 'Glass Crowned with Royal Crest.'
"See? Your blade couldn't touch me, could it?"
Crack. A fracture splinters Sanson's blade. It spreads instantly, shattering to dust.
It's as if his heart shatters too—
"No… no, this can't be…!"
Sanson reels, not just shaken but shattered. His pride, his heart—crumbled.
"What a pity, Sanson. I should've told you when we first met. Our bond is over."
Marie speaks, announcing their parting.
"You killed so many. You honed your blade as a murderer."
Her voice, tinged with sorrow, sings like a lament.
"But the more skillfully you kill, the more your blade—meant to save sinners—rusts. The moment you joined the Dragon Witch, you stopped being the Sanson I knew."
Sanson collapses to his knees.
"No, I… I just wanted to get better! To make you feel that ecstasy! That's all I thought about!"
His anguished monologue echoes.
"If I could make you feel that peak again… I thought you'd forgive me…!"
"—You poor, pitiable man."
Gently, she takes his hand, meeting his gaze.
"There's nothing for me to forgive you for, is there?"
"Ah… ah… Marie…"
Sanson's form fades, like a pillar without support, like a mirage.
"Goodbye, Sanson. —Until we meet again, somewhere."
The ground rumbles as a vile dragon stomps through the city.
Atop it rides the Dragon Witch.
"Good evening, Dragon Witch. A bit late, aren't you?"
"…Sanson's gone too, huh? Ironic how the ones I counted on vanish first."
"Indeed. Perhaps the vampire you despise will outlast them all?"
The flame-wreathed witch and the flower-bearing queen lock eyes.
"Did I flee? How pathetic, how weak."
"No, she left with hope. The final piece to defeat you, the checkmate to end you."
"…Pathetic, you say? You're no different, Queen. Are you serious? Why protect these people? Drunk on a sense of duty?"
The witch hurls her fiery scorn.
"This country that betrayed you…! These people who mocked you, scorned you, sent you to the guillotine! Why protect this nation?!"
Marie faces the witch's fury with pride.
"Oh, how disappointing. Don't witches understand even that?"
"What—?"
"Yes, I was executed. There was mockery. There was scorn. But that's no reason to 'kill them back.'"
"—"
"A queen is only a queen because the people call her so. Without them, a queen is no queen."
"If the people no longer wish it—even if they don't—she must step down. That is what it means to be a queen."
Marie weaves her words, her love transcending hatred.
"Always, 'Vive la France!' The stars shine, they give light, they let others shine—that's enough! My execution—I believe it led to future smiles!"
(Love will never lose to hatred—right, Gorgeous-sama?)
"…What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't understand you either. Now I'm certain—you're not Jeanne. Who are you, really?"
"—Shut up!"
Fafnir breathes fire.
(Goodbye, Amadeus. Goodbye, Jeanne. Goodbye—Gilgamesh-sama.)
She recalls her first love.
Her irreplaceable friend.
And the boisterous, radiant king who laughs so boldly.
(This is Marie Antoinette's way of life—!)
She unleashes her Noble Phantasm, shielding the people with her very being.
"Noble Phantasm, release! 'Guillotine—'"
But it doesn't come to pass.
"—Fool! I told you not to waste your life!"
"What—!?"
"Huh…!?"
Her sacrifice is halted!
"How dare you show me such insolence, Marie Antoinette—!"
"Gorgeous-sama—!?"
Gilgamesh scoops Marie into his arms, swiftly deploying his Noble Phantasm to pin Fafnir.
"Siegfried! Your turn! Do your duty!"
"Leave it to me—!"
Siegfried leaps from the capsule, slashing into Fafnir.
"Why… why are you here!? You were in another city, with no transport—!"
"Hah! Did you think my legs were limited to bikes or Vimana, little girl? My treasury holds wealth far beyond them! If Vimana or bikes fail, I simply procure something greater!"
Indeed, to save Marie, he arrived at—lightspeed.
"Once, during a summoning, I was flung to the moon's depths, to the edge of dimensions! To return, I acquired the latest ship of light! I favor the ancient, but I'm no stranger to the cutting-edge!"
The selection was arduous. A cutting-edge Noble Phantasm demanded immense discernment.
But his vessel once said: Time is bought with gold. Value swiftness.
He had to save Marie. No matter what.
Because she has someone who loves her—Amadeus, who cherishes her.
If their hearts are bound, they should stay together until the end. A sorrowful parting? He'd have none of it.
A victory built on sacrifice? A predictable outcome he and his vessel swore to shatter!
"Gorgeous-sama… why…?"
"You're the spirited woman who dared court me, a flower too precious to wilt on this roadside."
"—!"
Yes, that too.
Marie approached him without fear, with radiant warmth.
She showed respect to the Hero King, treated him with grace.
He cherished that. He didn't want her to fade.
"Your wish is to protect the people, is it not? Then don't perish in some town—complete the restoration of this Singularity. Until then, I forbid you to die."
Yes. He found his wish.
To sing together. To hear Amadeus's piano.
To restore this Singularity—with everyone they met!
"Sing him a song, at least. I won't say much, but that musician's heartbroken right now. He'd want to hear your voice."
Let them fulfill it.
That precious promise between them. That's why he crossed light itself to reach her.
"Yes! Gorgeous-sama—!!"
"…Now, Fafnir. Shall we settle this?"
"Flee, Fafnir! Escape, now!"
"Lost your spine, country girl? Where's your usual bravado? Out of stock?"
"Shut up, shut up! I'll defeat you—mark my words!"
Fafnir flees.
"Thank you…! My wonderful, wonderful king!"
"Hahaha! Praise me, I permit it! Nothing is impossible for me! Surpassing light itself is trivial! Hahahaha!"
"—Heh. The stage is set."
The nameless choice was true.
It protected a delicate promise, correcting past misunderstandings.
"Yup, yup. A happy ending's the best! Now, as for Magi☆Mari…"
"'Merlin, you got what you deserved! wwwww'"
"—I'm getting roasted…!"
-------------------------
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