Long ago, it seemed.
So distant, Kirei Kotomine had buried it in a forgotten corner of his memory.
But the booming cannons and explosions involuntarily recalled that past.
He vaguely remembered, just after completing Holy Church training, becoming an Executor, and joining the Eighth Sacrament.
Was what he saw that day salvation…
Or abandonment?
…
Years ago.
A battlefield in the Middle East.
—Boom!!
Clad in black clerical robes, priests navigated a hellish battlefield of slaughter and death, the roar of cannons unceasing. Lives were snuffed out constantly in this ravaged border city.
Kirei Kotomine stood atop a crumbling rooftop, observing the distant carnage, then glanced at his father, Risei Kotomine, distributing food to starving refugee orphans.
It puzzled him…
In such a moment, with limited resources, stopping in this danger zone to share scarce food with orphans unlikely to survive the next second—was it meaningful? Wasn't it a waste?
So, he asked his father.
"Father, is it wise to stop here? Don't we have a mission to hunt Dead Apostles… In war, these orphans won't survive. Food and water won't change that…"
Kirei trailed off, seeing his father's stern expression.
"Kirei… I don't deny your dedication, but God gave us eyes and hands not to ignore tragedy or withhold aid when we can act."
Risei didn't elaborate, continuing to distribute supplies to the orphans, speaking without looking back.
"Our actions aren't futile. If these children meet their nation's army, they might survive. Saving even one kind soul is a good deed."
"No, Father, the odds are too low. I don't oppose clerical mercy, but hope in a vague future seems less practical than acting now…"
Kirei couldn't grasp his father's actions.
Scripture taught mercy, but to him, it needed purpose.
On this brutal Middle Eastern battlefield, their mission was to hunt a high-ranking Dead Apostle using the war as cover.
As Executors, they should swiftly eliminate the threat, not pause to offer fleeting hope to orphans.
Kirei wasn't naive or empathetic. Logic and detachment ruled him.
He'd seen many war orphans, even aided them, but their fates were rarely good.
Gradually, he grew to resent and avoid such futile acts.
"Kirei… No one loves war or death. It's God's harshest punishment, ordained since creation. When humanity sins unforgivably, the Four Horsemen bring judgment. But wars often stem from greed and profit between nations…"
"These children are blameless, born into this war-torn land, dragged into its punishment. They've never known the world's beauty beyond death or God's light. Though our power is small, helping them, giving their dim lives a spark, is God's guidance…"
Risei sighed, not condemning his son's indifference, knowing his actions might lack impact.
He stood as a man; Kirei, as an Executor. Neither was clearly right or wrong.
As Risei prepared to lead Kirei and the remaining Executors onward, suddenly—
Boom!!
A piercing explosion and scalding heat forced them to shield themselves. Even their enhanced bodies and blessed robes couldn't fully block the pain.
The orphans they'd helped were likely gone.
The Executors, briefly uplifted by their kindness, fell silent, hearts heavy.
"Let's go, Kirei…"
Risei gazed at the ruined area, praying for the lost orphans, his face etched with sorrow, hoping they'd find salvation in paradise.
Kirei, watching, reflected, observing the praying priests, reaching a conclusion…
Was kindness more vital than resources, even if futile, offering salvation?
Those children died smiling, fed at last.
Kirei coldly surveyed the wreckage, his doubts growing…
If kindness was salvation, what about cutting off evil's source?
Killing the soldiers causing the disaster—wouldn't that be greater kindness?
He instinctively reached for his Black Keys.
"Father, shall I punish them? With our numbers, it's easy."
He asked calmly.
"No…"
Risei shook his head.
"We don't know who's right or wrong. Soldiers aren't innocent, but they follow orders. The war's instigators avoid blood, using them. Punishing soldiers doesn't redeem. Salvation itself matters more."
"More meaningful…" Kirei sheathed his Black Keys, following silently.
"What's truly meaningful salvation?"
"The greatest salvation…" Risei murmured.
"It's not saving others, but yourself…"
Kirei listened intently.
"Find your purpose, do what's right. That's true salvation."
"Do what I believe is right?"
Kirei repeated, his gaze thoughtful.
Would finding what he truly wanted bring salvation?
…
His thoughts wandered.
The visions faded.
Present-day Fuyuki City.
"Hey, Kirei, had enough sleep? Time to wake up."
In the ruins of a church blasted into rubble, Gilgamesh dug out a half-dead figure.
Seeing Kirei Kotomine, caught in the explosion's epicenter, barely alive, he pulled a vial of life-water from his treasury, forcing it down his throat, yanking him back from death.
"Maybe I've found my salvation… Father."
Kirei, eyes closed, murmured cryptically, making Gilgamesh frown.
He yanked the man, now healed but lost in memories, up, demanding coldly, "Kirei, how long will you sleep?"
"…Ah, King of Heroes…"
Hearing Gilgamesh, Kirei rose, eyeing the ruined landscape and his tattered robes, thoughts drifting to the Middle East, his father, and salvation…
Doing what he believed was right.
"Maybe I've reached that moment, Father."
Kirei took a black cloak from Gilgamesh, covering himself, speaking slowly under his puzzled gaze.
"Gilgamesh, I've realized my life's meaning, my salvation…"
Kirei spread his arms, expressionless, not with the joy of killing Tokiomi but a deep sense of redemption and mission.
Gilgamesh frowned, unsure what this clown was raving about.
"Good, you found it."
"Get ready, Kirei. The riffraff are cleared. Now, I'll enjoy my main course."
Ignoring Kirei's madness, Gilgamesh turned toward Fuyuki's stadium.
His Declaration of the Great God, Gungnir, killed the pest disturbing him and located the Grail's final resting place.
The final battle would begin there.
"…"
Kirei said nothing, following silently.
He glanced at Gilgamesh, fingers brushing the crimson Command Spells on his hand, a fleeting chill in his eyes, his thoughts unreadable.
…
Meanwhile.
In a hidden chamber beneath Fuyuki's stadium.
Silver hair cascaded like a waterfall. As the Lesser Grail, Irisviel lay quietly on a platform, awaiting her end.
Kneeling before his wife, Kiritsugu's face was etched with complexity, his hollow eyes filled with despair.
Moments ago, Maiya, like family, died before him.
In their moment of triumph, celebrating their plan's success, a silver spear silently took her life.
The spear pierced the sky, swift as a meteor.
Too fast to notice or dodge.
In a blink, before hearing Maiya's final words, her life was gone, right before him.
In that instant, Kiritsugu's eyes widened, desperately trying to pull the spear to save her. But Gungnir, with its absolute causality and sure-hit nature, was beyond a mere human like him.
He could only watch.
"What… happened?!"
Seeing Maiya, heart pierced, frozen like a statue with a smile, he roared in anguish.
From joy to despair in a moment.
The triumph of eliminating all Masters vanished. Kiritsugu closed his eyes in pain, collapsing before his partner.
Since killing his foster mother, he'd shed all tears. Now, he tasted loss again.
His suppressed emotions erupted uncontrollably.
He wailed for his family's loss, raged against the world's cruelty and injustice.
His life was dedicated to saving the world, redeeming humanity, pursuing a childhood wish.
He'd lost his first love, his father, his foster mother, and now his wife would sacrifice for that wish…
He'd done nothing wrong, so why did the world strip him of everything?
Even at the cusp of success, fulfilling his wish to save the world, this cruel world forced him to witness another loss, denying Maiya even a chance at redemption.
This shattered his defenses, driving him to madness.
He couldn't fathom why justice demanded such loss.
Cursing the world's unfairness, he demanded proof of justice or miracles.
"Kiritsugu…"
Seeing the man sobbing on the ground, Irisviel, lying on the platform, sensing another Servant's soul enter the Grail, murmured softly.
"Iris… Iri!!"
Hearing her, Kiritsugu scrambled to her side, clutching her hand, seeing her tragic yet serene smile.
He knew time was up, facing loss again.
His heart reached a numbing despair, unable to speak, only staying by her side for her final moments.
It had come to this.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Iri, I…"
Kiritsugu, the world's most tragic man, could only apologize to his wife, powerless.
No way back…
For him or his wife.
He'd lost too much; his retreat was long gone.
"It's okay… Kiritsugu, don't grieve for me. This is my purpose as the Lesser Grail's vessel.
And… helping you achieve your wish in my final moments makes me happy."
Irisviel held his hand, her smile tragic yet content, comforting him while awaiting death.
To her, fulfilling Kiritsugu's dream and dying with her beloved was the best end for an Einzbern homunculus, but her gentle words pierced his heart deeper.
He was powerless.
"Kiritsugu… I can feel it, my time's almost up…"
"We'll have to say goodbye here."
Irisviel's eyes drooped.
"Iri…"
Kiritsugu gripped her hand tightly.
"But, Kiritsugu, promise me, even without Maiya and me, you'll live well, care for Illya, and live happily together…"
The bloodied saint on the altar spoke softly.
This was her, a homunculus of mere years, final words and maternal wish.
"I… I promise, Iri. I'll care for Illya, redeem humanity, create a perfect world… I swear."
In that moment, the stoic, resolute man revealed his inner weakness.
From youth to middle age, he'd sent off his father, foster mother, and now his wife for his wish. The dual agony of body and mind pushed him toward collapse.
In this final moment, at the last step, waves of painful memories crushed his heart's defenses, leaving the feared mage-killer fragile.
But a voice persisted.
'It's okay, Kiritsugu. One last step, and you'll redeem humanity.'
'Then, you and the world will find… happiness.'
Happiness…
Yes, fulfilling that wish would bring true happiness to all.
Kiritsugu murmured, gazing at the bloodied altar.
Like a drowning man clutching the last straw, refusing to let go.
It was his final reason to live, but…
Would it go as he hoped?
…
"Now, time for the protagonist to shine."
As Kiritsugu bid his wife farewell, in an underground parking lot near Fuyuki's stadium.
Confirming Assassin, Rider, Berserker, and now Lancer's exit.
With the four sacrifices for the Grail's activation gathered, a youth, long awaiting this moment, ascended a prepared platform under Scáthach's gaze.
"Well, looks like Irisviel's about to sacrifice. It's almost time… Let's prepare for the final revelry."
Roy turned to Scáthach. "Ready?"
"Of course. I've been itching for this."
Scáthach smiled, twirling her crimson spears, twin lights bursting forth.
While others fought, she'd been a bystander, following Roy. Now, she was eager.
"Good. Let's make a grand mess!!"
Seeing her enthusiasm, Roy nodded, smiling.
Without hesitation, he seized the massive energy block—nearly half the Great Grail's mana—along with the Philosopher's Stone, embedding them into a prepared wand frame.
"Sing, my supreme Mystic Code!!!"
With his final act, the eager Philosopher's Stone and half the Grail's mana surged, reshaping the wand frame. Vast mana converged endlessly.
Without the suppression array, a white beam pierced the night.
The immense mana, rivaling the Grail, sent shivers through Fuyuki and beyond.
Even Gilgamesh, heading to the stadium, frowned at the towering light.
"That kid… he really dared!!"
Roy, gripping the silver, twisted wand—his painstakingly crafted supreme Mystic Code, the Philosopher's Staff—smiled broadly.
"Now, let's end this Grail War!"
Holding the staff, feeling its enchantments amplify his magecraft five, perhaps tenfold, he spoke confidently.
"No matter the foe, we'll claim victory."
"Oh? Show me your valor, Master," Scáthach teased.
"I won't disappoint," Roy smiled. "I haven't forgotten your wish."
"Good. That's reassuring."
***
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