Dawn broke.
The night sky above Wandering Sea wasn't as bright as Earth's starry heavens. This was a rift in time, a realm where even light lost its way.
Outside the window spanned a deep, nearly solidified blue void. Now and then, magical currents would glimmer in the distance like glowing jellyfish drifting through the deep sea.
The bridge of the Asteria-class destroyer was brightly lit, with only the precise clatter of instruments and the occasional electronic notification giving signs of life in this quiet world.
Steve sat in the captain's chair, toying idly with the white four-dimensional pocket in his hand. His gaze pierced the massive panoramic porthole, fixed on that void, as if he could see the gigantic shadows approaching this world—if only he so wished.
And yes, whenever he wished.
After all, within this seemingly silly white pocket was a weapon of causality so strong it could sweep away even the ashes of the so-called Alien God who stole Chaldea's name—something forged by human civilization after conquering countless galaxies and dimensional threats over billions of years.
If he took it out and pressed the red button now, the sun would rise tomorrow as always. Humanity would not freeze, the Fantasy Trees would not root, and the seven Lostbelts full of tragedy and possibility would perish before they were even born. Fujimaru Ritsuka would get to live an ordinary life, eating cake with Mash in the Chaldea cafeteria and dreaming of retirement.
World peace would bring joy to everyone.
But if he did...
"...Wouldn't that be just too boring?"
Steve muttered, a playful smile curling on his lips.
No—if everything ended before it began, and if Fujimaru Ritsuka really retired to an ordinary life, the fundamental purpose he came to this world for—gathering all the young-maternal servants (such as the primeval mother, Tiamat) who only existed in this chaos—would be perfectly ruined.
More importantly, he himself wasn't the kind to skip straight to the ending, skipping the process outright.
For a player like him—already a capped-level protagonist who'd cleared the 'Savior' dungeons of other universes—this Fate/Grand Order journey meant far more than its predetermined ending. Watching young children struggle through despair, mature through setbacks, learning to cherish what they gain through repeated loss, and finally shining so brightly that even Heroic Spirits praise them...
This growth story—that is the supreme pleasure for one who's long since grown indifferent to life and death.
Besides, if the stage were dismantled, how would he add more 'Mushrooms' to the Chaldea crew? How to enjoy playing the mastermind behind the scenes, guiding everyone to victory?
Compared to Saviors who just watch from afar and sometimes send a subordinate or a clone to deliver cheat codes—I'm one who personally goes to the front lines, aiming for second place.
Steve defended his own complicated sense of morality in his mind. In its own way, it was a kind of compassion.
If human freezing never occurred, if Fantasy Trees failed to take root, the seven Lostbelts—worlds denied yet each fostering countless lives and possibilities—would never have been born at all.
That's billions of lives. Civilizations fighting to survive, even though they were already rejected by all of humanity's history. To simply erase them would be the true arrogance—that's a much more brutal denial than simply pruning.
And now, with the power to even save the people of the Lostbelts...
Steve idly tapped the armrest, already sketching out a vast plan in his mind. Let tragedy unfold, let heroes rise up to challenge it, let the Lostbelt shine in all their glory—and then, at the very end, he, the reckless time traveler, could pack them up, carry their worlds to safety. First, give them a chance to survive, and then a hope for salvation. That, he thought, is the ideal ending suited for a King of Magecraft of the New Era.
And so, Fujimaru Ritsuka would never need to bear the burden of destroying seven worlds just to survive. Instead, just like in the original, he only needs to restore singularities, defeat villains, and save whoever stands before him.
The truly weighty choices... he can take care of those—someone like him, whose hands were already bloodied, who'd led the Human Federation against the planet-wide Earth Federation herself.
"Rider... no, Archer?"
Lost in thought, Steve didn't notice Sion's voice from behind. She stood by the command post, cradling two steaming mugs, hesitatingly.
"Um... Even though I have your badge, I'm still a little anxious."
"According to Trismegistus's calculations, magical readings on Earth's surface are showing wildly abnormal shifts. The scale is... as if the whole surface is being rewritten."
Anxiety was clear on Sion's face. She no longer needed to sacrifice herself, but the crisis was far from over. As an Atlas alchemist, she best understood how terrifying the looming disaster could truly be.
"Don't worry, Sion."
As Steve turned around, all hints of calculated depth vanished from his face, replaced by his easygoing, relaxed grin. He accepted the coffee from Sion, taking a small sip.
"This is just the darkness before dawn."
"Besides, Wandering Sea is still a wasteland within."
"It'll be a while before the Chaldeans arrive."
"And before that..."
He glanced around the empty bridge, then looked out at the untouched, bleak sea beyond the window.
"It's just the two of us here."
"No annoying messages, no urgent tasks, no renovations begun."
"A rare treat that's just for us."
"I wonder... when will we next get any time alone?"
For a moment, Sion blushed and turned away.
"W-well, I was just worried Chaldea's shadow ward wouldn't get here safely! The Wandering Sea's coordinates are always shifting..."
"Don't worry."
Steve set his cup down and got up, walking over to gently smooth her slightly tousled bangs.
"Rest well tonight."
"Tomorrow, this place will start getting busy. You won't even have time to be lazy."
"...Um..."
As she felt the warmth of his fingers, Sion's anxiety slowly eased. Yes. If he was here—a man who could even command the future itself, what was there to be afraid of?
"Umm... Steve."
"Yeah?"
"If, when we're alone like this, you whip out any more weird gadgets to scare me again, I really will be mad!"
"Haha, don't worry... For tonight, there's no Doraemon here—just your loyal servant..."
"And... an evil butler pondering how to prepare surprises for future guests."
Steve smiled, turning his gaze back out to the darkness. Far in that void, the gears of fate had already begun to move. He could hardly wait to watch the upcoming performance.
Come, foreign gods, hidden gods!
The stage is set, and the actors soon in place.
Let me witness your stumble and sprint in this Fate/Grand Order 2.0 I've rewritten.
For if you fall before you even try, that would truly be boring.