27 These Ceaseless Changing Times 7

After taking care of some last-minute business and distributing their loot, Ainz Ooal Gown found themselves back inside the Great Tomb of Nazarick nearly half an hour later.

Thanks to Destana's contribution to the raid, she earned her fair share of the spoils, which she took in the form of data crystals and high-tier materials. The angel never for a second expressed any form of inclination for the World Item, to the surprise of the others.

In her words, "Why the hell would I even want them? I might as well be painting a target on my back." She said, to the amusement of the others.

A short while later, Destana logged out, but not before introducing herself and teasing her boyfriend in front of his friends with the little time she had left. The angel's charming personality quickly endeared herself to the Momonga's guildmates, as evidenced by the snickers and laughter she elicited at the expense of their Guildmaster.

Despite their brief interaction, Destana seemed to hit it off with Momonga's close friends, which put the Guildmaster at ease. Yamaiko and Bukubukuchagama seemed to have taken a particular liking to her, much to the Elder Lich's quiet dismay. Momonga was already struggling to handle Destana's mischievous nature. Add in Bukubukuchagama's teasing, and he feared that would be asking for a catastrophe. Despite the abrupt circumstances surrounding Destana joining Ainz Ooal Gown, her easy-going demeanor and likable personality made her a welcome addition to the group. Even the usually skeptical Ulbert was comfortable with her presence, likely due to his trust in Momonga's judgement.

It was around this time that Shirou attempted to make himself scarce, using the good mood to escape unnoticed while Destana remained the central focus. The keyword was 'attempted.' Unfortunately for him, he was no true rogue or assassin, and under their vigilant gaze, they weren't going to let him get away so easily this time.

It was high time they confronted the matter head-on and settled it once and for all.

Thus, Shirou and the remaining members of Ainz Ooal Gown found themselves in the Round Table room on the 9th floor. The conference chamber was where the guild would meet and discuss matters of great importance. Amanomahitotsu joined them as well, having arrived late and being unable to join Momonga and the rest in the rescue.

Warrior Takemikazuchi was also included in this. The Nephilim Player stumbled upon the guild's secret by complete accident when he overheard Peroroncino unknowingly blabbering about it when he thought he was alone. Needless to say, he grew curious, and eventually, Shirou and the others let him in on the secret. Initially skeptical, he was like the others in finding the explanation unbelievable and completely outlandish.

Still, he would give his friend the benefit of the doubt, at the very least. From there, he was informed of the truth and became a part of the inner circle, as Peroroncino, oh so quaintly called it.

And so, all ten Players were gathered. Some of them took seats next to Shirou while others stood, indicating at the very least that they weren't going to let him off as easily as previously.

The passage of time was marked by an unbroken silence, save for the steady ticking of the digital clock mounted on the central wall. Shirou bore the tedium with stoic patience, hoping against hope that he could somehow outlast the interminable wait. Yet, as the minutes dragged on, it became increasingly clear that they were not going to leave anytime soon. Then again, he already knew there was no escaping this time around.

Shirou finally broke the suffocating silence, offering a rhetorical question that he already knew the answer to. "I don't suppose my assurance that I'm fine will convince you to let me go, will it?"

The magus didn't need to be psychic to guess the group's deadpan expressions at his half-hearted plea. Their weighty gaze bore down on the virtual magus, patient but determined.

"Shirou…" Momonga sighed, a soft chiding timbre no different from that of a worried parent. "Enough with the games. Each of us knows that something is going on. So please, please... talk to us." He all but begged his friend.

"This... isn't something you all should be worried about..." Shirou managed to get out. "I'm sorry if I may have worried you all."

"H-how can you say that?!" Bukubukuchagama interjected, her voice wavering. "Of course, we would be worried when you're acting like that! Especially if it's about a dear friend. Shirou-kun, I... we... care about you. B-but don't you care about us?"

"O-of course I do!" He replied, passionately.

"Then why won't you talk with us? Please. It... this, it feels as if you're shutting yourself away from us. We're friends, and friends help each other out, just as you've done for us so many times before. Why do you insist on having us worry for you? How could you think we could possibly ignore all of...this!" She cried out, almost heartbroken and unable to pin down what it was that truly was in the way. "This isn't like you... It hurts to see you collapse into yourself."

He averted his gaze in shame, unable to meet the eyes of his comrades. This was precisely the outcome he had hoped to prevent - causing them pain. It was an oversight to think they wouldn't be spurred into action eventually. Or maybe, he was acutely aware of it but refused to acknowledge it. Out of sight and out of mind. However, now that he was standing in front of his trusted companions, he could no longer pretend that everything was alright.

"I never intended for things to turn out this way..."

"I have never known you to shy away from anything, Shirou." His oldest friend offered his insight.

"Running away?" He glanced sideways at the Guildmaster.

"What else would you call it?" Momonga challenged.

"You... wouldn't understand."

"Then help us understand."

For a brief moment, the two were locked in silent combat as their eyes met. And it was Shirou who looked away, capitulating. He knew he couldn't win against them.

With a solemn sigh, Shirou opened his mouth and began his tale. Destana's final words to him rang in his mind. She was right. They deserve to know what was going on, he owned them that much. He left little to nothing out, for he had a feeling they would somehow know if he were withholding any details. As it continued, he found himself speaking more freely about it, as if a weight had been gradually shifted from his shoulder.

He has always been the shoulder for them to lean on, the ear that would welcome all their woes and worries, yet, rarely has it ever been the reverse. Until this moment. Here, he confided in them everything as he laid it out for all to bear. Everything—his intentions, his thoughts, fears, and insecurities. They deserved the honest truth, even if he held reservations. But he also did it in the hopes that they would, at the very least, come to understand his rationale. However selfish it was.

By the end, some of the members had to sit down, nursing their heads in their hands. Their minds spun from what was told to them. Silence returned to the room, one far more solemn and oppressive.

"Damn…" Peroroncino breathed out, his talon raking back his quills along his head where his hair would be. "That's...fuck! That's… beyond heavy Emiya-senpai."

"Why do you think I kept quiet about it?" He rather snarkily returned, his voice low. It brought him no joy or satisfaction to see them like this.

"S-still, w-why didn't you try talking with us if you felt that way? W-we...we could've helped you, o-or something! Y-you don't have to do this alone! O-of course we w-would be here for you. H-how could you ever think that w-we wouldn't?" Bukubukuchagama stuttered, trying to keep her voice level.

Shirou shook his head. "It isn't like that, Bukubukuchagama-san."

"Could've fooled us..." Warrior Takemikazuchi grunted, his arms crossed tightly. The solemn tone of his low voice hinted at his deep grievance with his friend, and what he thought of Shirou's hidden intentions.

"Still, there could've been something we could've done to help!" Argued the golden archer, backing up his sister. "Even with our schedules, we could at least work something out! All you needed to do was ask."

Despite his friends' insistence, Shirou remained stubborn, his expression unyielding.

"This... This is my burden to bear, my problem to solve. Not yours or anyone else's. It is mine, and mine alone. How can I possibly ask for more of your time when you have more important things to worry about in your daily life? It would be selfish of me and unfair to you all." Shirou shook his head, adamant in his words.

Yamaiko was quick to refute his words. "Selfish? How can you say that, Emiya-san? How many times have we turned to you for your help? Hundreds, and you gave it without a second thought. We would have done the same for you in a heartbeat."

The others nodded in agreement, showing their unwavering support.

Again, Shirou remained steadfast.

"Not this time. Not with this." Maintained the faker, refusing to budge on the matter.

This left the others frowning with no shortage of exasperation. The members of Ainz Ooal Gown knew Shirou was quite headstrong at times and would fight tooth and nail for what he believed was right.

And there lies the crux of the matter.

In a twisted respect, they could sympathize with his motivations and intentions. Though their stance on the matter greatly differed, the members of Ainz Ooal Gown could at least comprehend the reasoning behind his actions. However, what they absolutely couldn't abide by was the path taken and the decisions he made.

In Ainz Ooal Gown, trust was held in the highest regard. Chance had brought them together as strangers, but YGGDRASIL forged a bond that went beyond mere companionship.

The likes of Momonga, Peroroncino, Touch Me, Tabula, and so on trusted one another in a way that surpassed friendship, akin to a surrogate family. This kinship was built on a foundation of trust.

From trust, mutual respect sprang forth. Ainz Ooal Gown placed their trust in Shirou, yet his actions showed that he did not fully trust them in this particular dilemma.

To trust someone meant respecting not only the individual, but also their decisions.

In Shirou taking the matter into his own hands and making the foregone conclusion and decision for them without ever consulting them or anything prior, it showed a sense of distrust. He made the choice for them. He decided what was right and what was best for them, as if he knew better.

That was what stung them the most. It was a betrayal, regardless of the good intentions he may have had.

"Ha!" A harsh sound escaped Ulbert, almost passing off as a laugh. All eyes turned to the World Disaster.

"May I ask what's so funny, Ulbert-san?" Shirou inquired, feeling the biting chuckle coming from the goat Heteromorph directed at him.

"What's so funny? Why, you, of course. Mr. brain in a jar." Ulbert returned, sneering sarcasm dripping with every word.

Stepping up to the plate, he walked towards Shirou. His talons shot out, grabbing a hold of the faker and violently yanking him to his feet. The two stood, their eyes locked in an intense gaze. Ulbert's piercing stare bore into Shirou's passive heterochromia, creating an almost palpable tension in the air.

A few of the others clamored to their feet, ready to stop it before it got violent. Only for none other than Touch Me to step in and stop them with an extended hand. They looked to the World Champion, whose eyes never left the two, shocked, but the paladin held his ground. He motioned with his hand, telling them to stand down. Though they were still tense and prepared to intervene if necessary, they reluctantly took a step back, allowing Ulbert his space.

"You know, I've seen and heard you say some stupid stuff over the years. But this? This takes the fucking cake. Quite arrogant of you to decide what's best for us." He sneered.

Shirou said nothing, so Ulbert continued.

"What do you think you are? Some perfect godlike entity who we're supposed to bend over for?! Do you think you know better than us? That what you're doing for us is for our good? What, do you expect for us to be grateful for your mercy? Get off that fucking high horse you're on! News flash, you digital fuck, we're adults. So what gives you the right to decide what's right and what's wrong? I can certainly remember a few times when you butted into people's problems, and you certainly showed no care for when it's like that. But the moment it's about you, we're the ones that's being silly for giving a shit about you?!"

The Heteromorph pulled Shirou in close, all but butting heads. Ulbert's voice grew incensed and sharp. For a second, it looked as if blows would be thrown.

Instead, he let go, allowing the Fake Player to drop back into his seat. Their gaze was still locked.

"Give me a fucking break. You're being nothing more than a damn selfish hypocrite, you wannabe hero!" Ulbert admonished, a sharpened talon pointing accusingly at him. Although he was as abrasive as ever, the others felt a timbre unlike his own. The heat from his voice wasn't from a place of hatred, but something else.

"You're not wrong…" He let out a chuckle, bordering on self-deprecation. Shirou didn't even bother to deny his friend's harsh but truthful criticism.

Ulbert's frown only deepened at the muted response.

This wasn't the Shirou they knew and recognized. While rare, they've seen him express anger, annoyance, and even sadness, yet what was in front of them was an entirely different beast. They've never seen or heard him so defeated before.

It felt wrong.

"You could've still talked it out with us. As Bukubukuchagama-san said, we would've been for you. We would've worked out some schedule, compromised, or something! You didn't have to do this alone." Touch Me insisted.

Shirou shook his head.

"And what exactly would that have accomplished? Would that have changed anything? No. I think not... It would've only increased the stress of your daily life. It would be cruel of me to make you prioritize between me and your own lives. YGGDRASIL is a place for you to enjoy yourself, not to console an old hand like me. It would be nothing more than a temporary fix. How long would it be before you grow strained, trying to accommodate me while also maintaining your personal life and affairs?"

Shirou's counter left them with little time to answer as he pushed forward.

"Do you think I made this decision lightly? That, I woke up one day and decided that this was what I wanted? Of course not! But what else was there that I could do? If I have to choose between you all or me, I'll always pick the former a million out of a million times. So please, tell me then. Tell me, what else could I have done?!"

He challenged, eyes defiant and firm. Yet, his words did not come from a place of anger, or annoyance, for even when arguing, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry at his guildmates.

He only wanted them to understand.

Shirou looked at every one of them, waiting for an answer. They wanted to say that there was another way, some other method that might have been overlooked or hadn't been considered. However, none came. There was no solution, or at least, not one that was in their grasp that would offer the solace they sought.

"He's not exactly wrong, y'know." Tabula spoke up, earning his guildmate's surprise by taking the magus's side.

"Tabula-san!" Amanomahitotsu gasped, turning to the Eldritch Heteromorph, but he continued nevertheless.

"We have neither the means nor capability to truly change anything. We cannot hope to turn back the hands of time, nor do we have the ability to halt what is coming. We neither possess any form of advanced technology nor a method that would see him free from this virtual prison. In the end, his situation is beyond any of our capability to truly fix. And he's not wrong, either. As proven already, each one of us has been slowly playing YGGDRASIL less and less for one reason or another. We cannot just stop everything and play YGGDRASIL every day, even if we wanted to. We all have our own lives to live, and with only so much time on our hands every day, we must pick one over the other. You can't argue against facts..." He spoke, meeting every one of their gazes, delivering only the cold, hard facts.

"His actions, no matter how selfish or martyrlike they may be, have undoubtedly helped those around him. Objectively speaking, it is the right choice, his choice, to use what is left of his time for the good of who he cares for... but—"

In the midst of his delivery, Tabula was abruptly cut short. His voice, which had begun so somberly and steadfastly, was no more. In its place was a trembling gasp of emotions, too heavy and unintelligible for him to express and finish, but all understood.

"I don't want to accept it."

As the stillness continued, the various Heteromorphic Players found themselves contemplative. The countless hours they had spent with their friend became center stage. All the arguments they had, the moments of joy they shared, the tears they shed, and so many more experiences flooded their thoughts. They all whirled within their heads, vivid memories they held close to their chests, and moments they couldn't accept would come to an end.

They refused to accept it.

But, what could they do to defy fate?

"Perhaps…" A subdued voice echoed out, one that remained silent until now.

All eyes turned to their Guildmaster.

"Life is turbulent. Even the richest among us have to slave away to maintain their lot in life. We live by a schedule, and if we were to overhaul it, perhaps we could squeeze in a few extra hours of YGGDRASIL. But, it wouldn't be sustainable or healthy. The only thing we would be doing is inviting tragedy upon ourselves. And that's the last thing Shirou wants for any of us."

Momonga's crimson orbs swept the room, jumping from one member to the next as he spoke. Quietly, he looked away, his gaze focused entirely on something else. Their eyes followed Momonga to the floating, intricately golden staff within the room. The Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, the guild weapon and the symbol of all of Ainz Ooal Gown itself.

"M-maybe…" Momonga said, choking on the raw emotion. "Maybe, one day we will leave YGGDRASIL behind, and there's nothing I or any one of us could do to prevent it. It's only a matter of time."

Everyone present already knew what he said. His words were a simple restatement of the truth, but they hurt more than anyone would admit. He was the one who led them through trials and tribulations, so his words felt like a death knell. It signaled the end of their hopes and dreams. By his words, it became an admission.

Perhaps it was unfair to the Elder Lich, that he'd been expected to remain steadfast. The slowly growing confusion, the hurt, and the anger, at the perceived betrayal were definitely out of line. However, they did not care. He was their leader, and he was supposed to find a solution, not give up—

"But, today is not that day!"

With a passionate intensity, Momonga's fiery crimson eyes locked onto each person in the room. His unwavering gaze seemed to pierce through their very being, exposing any hint of doubt and quelling it with worrying ease. As a result, every single member stood in unison, meeting his stare with a determined fervor. Though their resolve was tested, it remained unbroken, as even the slightest glimmer of hope still burned within them.

He turned to Shirou.

"Emiya-san, you are a friend to all, a model to others, and a bright spot in a dystopian world. We'll be damned if we let the heart of this guild wallow in silence and give up on you for silly things like facts and logic! A day will come when we might say goodbye forever, but until that day comes, it is not your decision to make, old friend. It is ours. And only we shall decide what is worth it to us."

His hand shot forth, grabbing the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown.

"My peerless comrades! My loyal friends! I ask of you all, if our days are numbered, then should we not grasp what is in front of us rather than brooding on what is to come?! Do not lament what cannot be done. Instead, let us take hold of the future together! If our days are numbered, then enjoy every moment of it as if it were our last! Let us laugh at the time we're given, let us rage at the opportunity we've lost, let us cry for the inevitable, but most of all, let us enjoy ourselves to our hearts content!"

Momonga raised the scepter, spreading his arm as he faced them, his regal form beckoning all, drawing and demanding their attention as they faced their leader and king.

"You."

The undead king levied a single finger directed solely at the Fake Player. His two crimson orbs burned brighter than ever before.

Having risen from his seat, Shirou straightened his back completely, snapping to attention. The two friends stood face-to-face with one another.

Though his appearance, talent, and potential were nothing like hers, for but a moment, Momonga reminded Shirou what it was like to be in the presence of a king.

"Your king commands you! Emiya Shirou! Live! And if you require a reason, then we shall provide it! Through dusk or dawn, through hardship and peace, we shall be there. So live! If not for your own, then for us! Continue for our sake!"

The once-somber mood that plagued the room was no more. In its place was a held breath, the world waiting anxiously for conflict, yet, it was unprepared like all others, at the chuckles that emanated from the white-haired swordsman.

Accept and prepare, or deny and resist. One or the other. Those were the paths presented. But that was the flaw with simplifying and generalizing choices into an absolute. It limits the possibilities.

For, when faced with two equally unfavorable choices, sometimes, the correct choice to make was simply not choosing either or.

Momonga, he chose neither, and instead, he sought his own path. For the answer one seeks were often the simplest.

"What a selfish request you're asking of me, my friend." Shirou uttered. His voice was tired, weary, and breathless. Yet, nothing could hide the beautiful spark of hope that danced in his eyes and the joy hidden within his small, sardonic smile.

"Indeed." Momonga responded candidly. "But that is what I am. At the end of the day, we are but selfish humans, who chase after what they want and refuse to let go. And what is a king, but the greediest of them all? He who grasps the skies to reach for the stars and will settle for nothing less."

Momonga held out an open palm.

"I cannot promise you I'll be online every day, as I once was to greet you. I cannot promise you that I'll be online for consistent hours at a time to spend time with you. And I cannot promise I will choose you above everything else in my life. But I will promise you this. So long as I breathe, I will never forsake you. From now until our final moments, I shall remain by your side. Always. All I ask of you, my friend, is to wait for me."

He held out his hand. So warm, so inviting...

"What about times when you're really busy? Or something really important were to happen - maybe an emergency? What if you'll be gone for days, weeks, or even months?" Shirou voiced lamely, fishing for anything to support a belief he no longer cared for, an empty platitude to the ideal that had kept him driven for so long.

"Well, I guess you're just going to have to wait, Emiya-senpai! It's like you said before, you aren't going anywhere any time soon, so it's no biggie, right?" Echoed Peroroncino, throwing his words right back at him. "And, if you're bored and need some stress relief, I know some wonderful sauces..." The avian's words quickly devolved into giggles at a joke only he knew, but considering the slight twitching from his sister, he could guess the context.

"What the pervy idiot meant, was that we'd return no matter what. Perhaps we'll take longer at times, but don't believe for a second that I don't wish to return as soon as possible, Shirou-kun! So be a good boy and sit your damn fine-sculpted ass back down and wait for us! We'll make sure it's worth it when we come back."

Bukubukuchagama's words were rushed but heartfelt. The bronzed-skinned human took solace in having someone respond to his yearning for companionship. Although he couldn't help but feel amused at her embarrassment.

The two siblings stepped forward, joining Momonga by his side as they added their own hands to Momonga's own, palms up.

"Heh, I sure hope you aren't using me to justify spending more time gaming. After all, YGGDRASIL can grow pretty stale, in my experience." The magus found himself half-heartedly poking back with a mirthful smirk, the gloom, and doom of minutes before a faint memory.

"You make it sound like our personal lives are any more interesting. We get bored too, ya know. Video games help greatly with that. I, for one, would welcome the monotone of farming over the headache-inducing brats that I constantly deal with. I love being a schoolteacher, but even we adults have breaking points! Sorry to say, but you're stuck with us for the foreseeable future, Emiya-san!" Weighted in Yamaiko.

The grimace that she wore upon mentioning her job was fierce enough to make Shirou send a silent prayer to his old school, thankful that they had dealt with him for all those years. He wasn't a problem student, but he was certain he had caused his fair share of migraines. Especially during and after the Holy Grail War.

"With all that free time, you'll have plenty of time to come up with some adventures for us when we get back. Well, considering your luck, I'm sure that you'll have a catalog of bosses for us to tackle or dungeons to raid when we return! Although I do question the frequency with which you seem to encounter deadly opponents regularly." Warrior Takemikazuchi's jest quickly dissipated, overtaken by a quiet confusion at Shirou's strange fortune. If only he knew about his cursed E-ranked luck. Even in a digital world, he was always a magnet for trouble.

The two Nephilim stepped forward and joined the others, adding their own hands to the pile.

"Sure, I'll do my part to make your return exciting. Assuming the game doesn't shut down, of course." Shirou muttered softly. A fearful possibility of any game which lurked around the corner, one that stood strong even after the decision of the guild to stick together.

"A dire possibility I can't deny, but YGGDRASIL is still a unique game among DMMO-RPGs! Not only is it among the most challenging, but considering how much of the game has yet to be unmapped, completionists are crawling all over most of the maps!" Touch Me said. He was well aware of the signs of a game when it was nearing its deadline, having witnessed multiple closures in person.

"Not to mention the rumored expansion and rework for various bosses. Trust me, those devs may be shitty, but they do good work and know how to hype their products like nothing else!" Amanomahitotsu collaborated with the World Champion's words, knowing full well the traffic that would be generated in the coming months.

"Plus, products such as YGGDRASIL exist to make companies money. So long as they can turn a profit, they'll beat that dead horse even when it's buried and decomposed for years to come. We've spent several hundred thousand yens before, so what does a couple hundred thousand more down the rabbit hole matter?" Tabula elucidated, shrugging all the while. How fitting since the Illithid sunk an obscene amount of money into YGGDRASIL alone.

"And if you think this game is dying, you should've seen the mess that was Requiem Online. That old piece of junk was on life support for more time than it spent alive because some people wouldn't let it die! Even after 30 years! Considering just how much there's left to be discovered in YGGDRASIL, they'll be idiots like us that'll keep coming back to this game for one reason or another." Ulbert snarked, a derision he didn't truly feel, directed towards the imaginary apparitions of those basement dwellers who accomplished such a feat.

One by one, they joined in, leaving Shirou facing all nine of his friends. Their hands outstretched, together as one. He stared at their inviting form, but much like the time within the forest, he remained where he stood.

"It won't get easier, you know. The further along we go, the more it'll hurt in the end." He gazed away, making one last soft plea.

"Maybe." Momonga agreed.

"But... I would rather regret the things I'd done with the little time we have left than lament over the chances that could've been instead. All things come to an end one day, and when it's time to say our final goodbyes, let us cry to our hearts content, but also let us smile for allowing it to happen and enjoy what was."

Momonga—no, everyone, has grown.

They understood. They understood that there wasn't going to be a happy ending at the end of this journey of theirs. This wasn't some story or fable where everyone lives contently at the end. There wasn't a magical solution that could fix all their problems. All they could do was make peace with it and strive for the best they could. For life seldom gives that happily ever after.

For all that they toiled away in this game, where they were akin to gods, they were still bound by reality. And she was the cruelest of mistresses.

On this journey that he and they started, their story was not destined to end in joy but in simple mourning. For a friend who would die with this world, leaving nothing behind but cherished memories. They knew that all that awaited was a tragedy, but they refused to stop.

One way or another, they will leave YGGDRASIL behind them, but rather than focusing on what can't be changed, was it not more important to cherish what they already have? So that, when the time comes, it'll be one with few regrets. The future may be uncertain, but the present was still filled with possibilities. Who's to say that they can't enjoy the time they have left while also preparing for that ineludible departure? If anything, that only makes what they do now all the more crucial and worthwhile to make their time worth cherishing until the end of days.

It was far from the cleanest answer, but it was certainly not the worst. All they could do was accept it, strive forward for a better tomorrow, and make the most of it, and they shall.

That was the thing about moving forward, to acknowledge the future, one must accept the present and learn to let it go when it becomes time to move on.

For letting go is not forgetting, it's remembering without fear.

Shirou walked forward, his steps paralleling the heavy thumps of his heart, of joy and sadness, but also acceptance.

He laid his own on top. Shirou looked up, meeting every one of their gazes.

This was their pact. Their vow. From now until the end.

"Group hug!" He heard Peroroncino exclaim, his hand and body being tugged forward.

Shirou found himself being pulled in for a warm embrace as Momonga and the others enveloped him in a jumble of arms and legs. Amidst the laughter and playful banter, Ulbert's cries for release could be heard, but the group held on tightly, enjoying the moment of camaraderie. The joy on Shirou's face was undeniable, as for the first time in months, he laughed with abandon, truly savoring the moment.

The future might be bleak, but the present was still bright. So, they'd make it count, so they'd be able to say goodbye without regrets! This long adventure they've started, it was far from over. So Shirou and Ainz Ooal Gown, they might as well enjoy this journey they've been on for just a little longer.

[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]

"This controls that, while that opens up these options. Do you get it now?" Leaning over Shirou's shoulder, Peroroncino pointed to the screen, his talon trailing at each point.

"I think so." He said, returning his attention to the menu screen.

After the events in the conference room, Shirou and the rest relocated to the 8th floor, to the Cherry Blossom Sanctuary. More specifically, they were all lounging around in a faithful recreation of the Emiya Estate that was housed within the sanctuary's domain. It seemed only fitting, considering the general aesthetic of the area.

Shirou and the others were currently relaxing on the porch or lounging around the hallway that opened up to the sprawling garden. A sliver of lush grassy plains with cherry blossom trees dotting the landscape added to the tranquility of the setting.

In front of him was a menu screen, one that was used to create and design NPCs. Despite the years that have passed, the guild had plenty of points to spare. All of which belonged to the faker to use as he pleased. Before, he never saw any worth in it himself and offered to give his share to the other members to put to use. However, Momonga and the rest adamantly declined, and so they remained untouched until now.

Shirou had taken up trying his hand at an NPC creation at the suggestion of his friends, the first step of their one of many group exercises.

Peroroncino and Tabula sat next to him, offering him tips and advice on how to navigate the menu. The others kept nearby and did their own thing, occasionally glancing over at him and snickering at Shirou's expense as he tried to learn how to navigate the complex menu.

"Complicated, isn't it?" He heard Momonga comment on the side.

The magus silently grunted, agreeing with his undead friend's statement. A single glance at the interface revealed the various options the menu provided, and it was honestly overwhelming. There were at least over two dozen options, with countless other sub-options labeled for each category that could be selected.

NPCs had to be built from the ground up and could not be simply imported from an outside or preexisting source. Copyright issue and all that. That meant that Players had to plan, design, and code everything about the NPC. Everything from its gender, height, appearance, flavor text, programmed action, power, abilities, etc… It effectively made the Players the designers and programmers, giving them complete creative freedom.

It was not an easy task, to say the least.

As he played with the options on the menu screen, he noticed something. At the top corner of the screen was a highlighted option that wasn't part of the rest. It was separate and different.

It simply read: "Data Card present."

He pressed that option, and the screen changed, revealing a mostly blank screen with only a rectangular outline within the center and a message above it.

Shirou blinked and looked back down at the screen and the message.

"Insert any available Data Card."

"Momonga-san, by any chance did you come across an option that read 'Data Card present'?" Shirou asked.

"Huh? Data Card?" Momonga repeated. Bringing his thumb and index finger together, he stroked his chiseled, skeletal chin in contemplation. "No. I think I would have remembered seeing such an out-of-place option."

The rest of Ainz Ooal Gown leaned in, and there, as Shirou had said, was an option on the interface that they had never seen before.

"Strange… How could we have missed something like that?" Tabula pondered as the rest of the group speculated.

Shirou racked his brain, trying to figure out what the message meant by Data Card. It referred to something in his possession, but he had no idea what exactly it was. There was no instruction or anything that hinted at it.

As he securitized the screen even further, a random and almost trivial thought crossed his mind.

Besides the short message provided, the only other thing of interest was the rectangular outline that was in the middle of the screen. Its length and width gave it an outline similar in dimension to the Class Cards—

Shirou's eyes widened, his mouth involuntary letting out a disbelieving "No way…"

"Huh? Did you figure it out, Emiya-senpai?" Peroroncino asked, catching the tail end of his gasp.

The others watched with no small amount of curiosity and intrigue. They were waiting for him to answer, but it never came. Instead, he sat still, frozen almost, in complete and utter silence. At this point, the rest grew a bit restless at Shirou's unusual behavior.

He paid them no attention as he tried to rationalize his thoughts. Wordlessly, without taking his eyes off the screen, he operated his menu with practiced ease and pulled out the Class Cards.

"Emiya-san? Is everything alright?"

"Senpai, are you okay?"

"Come on, say something, buddy."

The unusual silence, combined with Shirou's almost mechanical action of pulling up his menu while staring blankly at the NPC creation screen in front of them, was starting to spook them.

Picking a card at random, Shirou held it in front of him. The World Item depicted a humanoid beast of a man with the head of a monstrous hound wielding a large sword.

The Berserker Class Card. The one that started it all.

"Emiya-san, why do you have that out?" Momonga asked the question that was on everyone's mind. The issue of Shirou's silence was pushed to the back of their minds as they watched their friend take out the World Item.

Instead of answering, Shirou lowered the card into the slot.

It fitted perfectly.

A new message popped up, reading: [Data Card identified].

It lasted no more than a second before the screen collapsed on itself and disappeared. Shirou's arm snapped up but was too slow as the screen disappeared along with the Class Card. He didn't have any time to spare for what just happened before the ground in front of them glowed.

Everyone immediately jumped up to their feet, backing up as the glow of light only brightened. But it was no ordinary glow.

As soon as Shirou laid eyes on it, he knew exactly what it was - a summoning circle. The circle depicted a six-pointed star and was adorned with ancient symbols and runic letters both inside and outside its surface. Positioned evenly around the circle were several orbs of light, which began to glow a glorious shade of gold and spin rapidly. Their speed increased until they formed a stunning golden halo of light, from which gushed forth a geyser of powerful azure energy that flooded the entire area in its brilliance.

Everyone exclaimed in surprise and shielded their eyes. It ended quickly enough, and as one, the group looked back, only to be greeted with a most unusual sight.

Where once there was nothing, there now stood a beautiful woman.

The mysterious woman was a statuesque figure, standing tall, and emanating an aura of firmness. Her poise and dignity were unmatched by most, adding to her presence. Her outfit was primarily composed of red, black, and white colors. She donned a long-sleeved red coat uniform, reminiscent of an old-world soldier's uniform. A white strap ran diagonally down her chest, attaching to a white belt on her waist, adding a touch of elegance to her apparel. Her black skirt had red trim, accentuating her figure and complementing her white boots and gloves. Several medical treatment packets, bearing the emblem of the Red Cross, were fastened around her waist, showcasing her preparedness for any emergency. A gun was holstered at her side, revealing her readiness for any challenge. Lastly, a black coat hung from her shoulders like a cape, flowing unabated, adding to her mystique.

Her hair cascaded down in a beautiful, flowing mane that nearly reached the length of her body. The shade was a stunning silver-pink, which complemented the fluttering pink sakura petals that danced in the gentle breeze. She possessed the qualities of a stunning beauty, with defined and captivating cheekbones, plump and alluring lips, striking jawlines, and piercing, passionate eyes that twinkled with unwavering resolve.

Berserker – Lvl: 100

"Servant Berserker, ready for duty! Are you my master?" She spoke, saluting as she did so.

Her voice rang out, a serene and melodious one that was pleasant to the ears of the guild members around her. It was soft and comforting, as if ready to alleviate all of one's concerns and worries.

Initially, there was a deafening silence that enveloped the surroundings, as everyone tried to process the bewildering scene that had just unfolded before their very eyes. Gradually, the stunned onlookers regained their composure and rushed towards the newly created NPC. They swarmed around her, their eagerness and enthusiasm reaching an unprecedented level.

"So, this is the true purpose of the Class Card." Momonga muttered in awe, inspecting the NPC with a critical eye.

"I must say the details on her are immaculate!" Warrior Takemikazuchi praised.

"Dude! Check her out! Those lovely breasts! Those creamy curves! Whoever designed her was a genius!" Peroroncino joined in, although his eyes were more towards the NPC's more physical appearance. Especially how her uniform pressed tightly against her body.

"Idiot! That's the first thing you think of? Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, that would be the first thing you think of." Bukubukuchagama bemoaned as she practically watched her perverted brother virtually salivate over the sensual-looking NPC.

"It looks like you were wrong, Ulbert-san. Still, for a World Item to be just this... I wonder if there's anything else." Pondered Tabula, stroking his chin.

"Tch, whatever. Still, I got to at least hand it to the shitty devs. They at least know how to spice things up. First a throne of all things for a World Item, then a mirror, a horn, and now an NPC." Commented Ulbert.

"They certainly do. And Emiya-san still possesses four more cards. I wonder if the same effects apply to those cards as well." Touch Me wondered alongside his friends.

While Shirou's friends were busy analyzing and expressing their amazement at the NPC, actively conversing with each other in excitement, Shirou found himself lost in his own thoughts. Though he too was taken aback by the sudden appearance, his reason for being stunned was different from that of his friends.

He was completely speechless because, somehow, he managed to summon, or was it created? Import? Quite frankly, either option was completely ridiculous.

Shirou summoned a Servant.

For a moment, Shirou wondered if perhaps he was simply overthinking things. He considered the possibility that the existence and appearance of the Servant were just a form of homage, similar to the other Servant bosses he had faced before. He reckoned that they weren't truly Servants or simply mere NPCs and programs designed by Zelretch, based on the origin found within the Throne of Heroes. However, his naïve speculation was quickly interrupted as he felt a tingling sensation on his hand.

To his continued astonishment, a faint yet vibrant crimson glow emanated from the back of his hand. There, a set of command seals formed.

As the faker stared at the command seal and back at his newly acquired Servant, he was left wondering.

He wondered what it all meant and what the future held in store for him.

[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]

December 1st, 2135 - Kaleidoscope HQ

A gentle knock rang out before the sound of a door being opened creaked. Walking through the door and into Zelretch's office was none other than the disgruntled manager and the supervisor, who reported directly to the CEO himself.

"Sir?"

He looked around, a flicker of surprise crossing the employee's face as he found Zelretch, who stood with his back toward him, gazing out the window. The outside world was as dark and dusty as ever, shrouded in a thick haze of smoke and smog.

"Kaito." Zelretch greeted him without turning around.

Kaito's lips pursed, taken aback by the seriousness that he was seeing. The manager could count on one hand alone the number of times his boss has called him by his real name, in addition to the times he'd seen the CEO look so humorless.

Without a word, Zelretch turned away, allowing the manager to bear the brunt of the Dead Apostle's inscrutable gaze. From behind his desk, he walked up and pressed a few keys on his keyboard.

Kaito felt his tablet buzz in his hand, signaling the arrival of a data packet from Zelretch. The file was unusually large, piquing his curiosity.

"I need you and your team to focus all your efforts on the contents of this file. And don't forget to enlist the help of the seventh floor. The instructions and deadlines are all clearly outlined." He instructed the head programmer.

Suppressing his urge to probe further, Kaito replied with a respectful tone. "Understood, sir. Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"

The sound of a cell phone ringing cut through the dour atmosphere and silence. Zelretch reached into his pocket and pulled out his flip phone, opening it. He gave it a quick glance before returning to the awaiting manager.

"No, you're free to go. Good day, Kaito."

Before the manager had a chance to collect his thoughts and muster the courage to speak, Zelretch promptly dismissed him. The CEO turned back around, answering the call, content to stare back out into the smog-filled outside.

The supervisor quickly made himself scarce, walking out and closing the door on the way. Kaito glanced back at him, confusion, among many other emotions, whirled inside him. The conversation between his boss and whomever it was on the phone was all but indiscernible to him.

With Zelretch, he waited until the door clicked shut before continuing his conversation over the phone.

"Is it done then?" He asked, quickly receiving a confirmation.

"Good. The payment will be doled out. I'll be in touch if I require your service any further."

Ending the call, Zelretch pressed a few more buttons on his phone before closing it. The magician turned, looking at his computer screen, which contained only what he knew. On the screen were various windows and pop-ups that contained sensitive information and data beyond what anyone could hope to see and put together. The kind of information that could get a man killed. But for the Wizard Marshal, it was nothing more than a bump in the road.

"I wonder if you've had any inkling of how close you were to death. You should consider yourself very fortunate to be his friend." Zelretch mused aloud.

Among them all the information, there was also a name. Hayate Watanabe, or, as he was better known, Bellriver.

After hitting one final key, everything was forwarded to his intended destination. He also hit a few more keys, sending out instructions to the appropriate sources on what actions to take next if need be. With the matter done, the Dead Apostle sat down, reclining in his chair, as he gazed out into the desolate world through the window.

Now, he waited.

As Kaito delved into his work, he found himself completely absorbed after receiving a data package during his elevator ride back to his station. Upon reading the contents, he was surprised to learn that the 9th World Championship Tournament was to be pushed up and rescheduled. Most curiously of all was something he easily recognized, having previously worked on similar projects for Zelretch.

One that involved a golden rectangular card that depicted a knight.

Omake: Alternative Summoning's I

"Servant Berserker, ready and willing. How may I serve you, master~ ?" A cool and sensual voice called out, one that brought with it a certain image.

Shirou looked to Berserker, Nightingale, dressed - if one would even call what she was wearing clothes - in only what he could describe as a sexy nurse uniform, one that wouldn't be out of place from one of Peroroncino's salacious works or entertainment. Dominated by bright neon purple, green, and black, the uniform hugged her body, emphasizing every lovely detail, from her voluptuous breasts to her tender thighs and legs. Her appearance was tantalizing - one that seemingly promised a certain incentive. Her opening statement didn't help dissuade the matter either.

Shirou watched with cool regard. Normally, such a thing would've drawn a reaction out of him, but after the other summons, he was used to it. Heterochromatic eyes turned, looking at the other Servants next to Berserker.

Lancer, tall and fierce, was dressed in a full violet bunny costume with fishnet stockings and a bunny ear headpiece. Her spear, Gáe Bolg, was in her hands. Leave it to him to summon Lancer's master of all things. Rider was next, dressed perhaps the most freely of the group, as if she were going for a casual stroll on the beach with a black bikini and with transparent blank veils draped from her arms with two mechanical-looking hounds by her side. Then there was Assassin, dressed in a bright orange, festively opened gown that showed off much of her leg and stomach and would fit perfectly as an exotic dancer. Lastly, there was Caster, dressed in loose armor and cloth that clung to her body, her attire clearly of Middle Eastern origin, with noticeable gaps along it, her alluring tanned flesh spilling through them, giving her a sensual and enticing allure.

It seemed that the common theme between them was just how sensual and jaw-droppingly gorgeous they were, along with how absolutely risqué their attire was, allowing for a generous amount of their silky and unblemished skin to be on full display. All of them coincidentally possess voluminous chests that look ready to spill out.

In the beginning, Shirou was indeed taken aback. The magus should've expected it, but he held onto a bit of hope that perhaps it was all some odd coincidence, but like all things, his E-ranked luck had something else to say on that matter of him ever being hopeful for anything normal.

Tearing his sight away from the row of beautiful Servants, Shirou looked to Peroroncino, who was still prostrating himself on the floor before him.

"Please, teach me your ways, Emiya-sama!" Peroroncino pleaded from the ground.

He'd been doing that ever since he pulled his second Servant and saw what was going on with his summoning.

"Pero, you do know that I'm not doing this on purpose, right? I can't exactly control it..." He tried to explain, but Peroroncino didn't hear it.

"I know that I am unworthy, but please bestow even an infinitesimal amount of knowledge so that I may be even a 10th as great as you, o' great Harem King!"

Again, Shirou tried dissuading him from the idea with little success, while on the sidelines, Bukubukuchagama remained quiet, her inscrutable gaze never once leaving the row of NPCs that Shirou summoned.

She then wondered if she should try her hand at creating a new avatar by any chance, only to shake her head and dismiss it. She chastised herself for even considering such a shallow thought and reasoning. She was Bukubukuchagama, The Unsinkable Slime; that was her title and what she'd chosen for herself, and for years she had been proud of it. She wasn't just going to give in because of something like this!

She looked back at them, seeing Peroroncino clinging to Shirou's leg while the latter was trying, and failing to shake him off. This led to him inadvertently bumping into the Servants. Thankfully, they didn't tip over or anything. They did bounce, however...

Rider's bounced.

Assassin's bounced.

Lancer's bounced.

Berserker and Caster's chest practically generated their own gravitational pull.

Bukubukuchagama looked down at her rolling, slimy appearance and hopped on the spot. There was no movement. She looked back up.

On second thought, maybe she was being a bit hasty in her dismissal...

Omake: Attack of the Saberface I

In a flash of light, a figure stepped forward, one with an all-too-recognizable face.

"Servant Assassin present, Mysterious Heroine X ready and willing! I am here to destroy all the Saber-faces!" A cheerful and excited voice declared.

Standing in front of Shirou was Arturia, but not the one he knew and loved. This one was certainly more bright and wide-eyed, dressed rather casually in a t-shirt, shorts, an open overcoat, and a regal-looking scarf wrapped around her neck. Most curiously, her ahoge was sticking out of her cap.

Shirou looked at her, suppressing a small sigh. So close, yet so far away.

"Jeez, just how many of them are there?" He heard one of his guildmates mutter, echoing a similar thought that he too was harboring.

Glancing away, he looked at the other Saber-faced Servants.

There was Berserker, who dressed very similarly to Assassin. Heck, they were practically identical besides a few small details, such as Berserker having platinum-blond hair instead of her golden locks, glasses, and a bag of what he assumed to be black bean buns. Joining her equally dark-themed sister Servant was Rider, dressed in full dark Christmas regalia, a Santa hat, a large white present bag, and all. Opposite them was Caster, who dressed in a neat gown uniform with an open mantle piece flowing from her shoulder. Contrasted with them all was Lancer, garbed in a black skin-tight jumpsuit that hugged her tightly, showing off select portions of her thighs, stomach, and underboobs with pieces of armor present at select points and a dark, sharpened crown resting on top of her head. She was also joined by a dark steed.

All of them bore a face or features very reminiscent of a certain King of Knights. Even Lancer wasn't absolved of it, as she was basically a more mature and older Arturia when it came down to it.

Ulbert stepped forward, observing them with a critical eye.

"Either the shitty devs must be getting lazy or something, just copying and pasting the same face over and over again."

Shirou was inclined to agree with Ulbert. A thought then popped into his head.

"Just how many other Arturia's are there?"

Shirou felt a chill run down his spine. He would later swear it was the wind or something else, but his ears caught onto the faintest words that said:

"It's never enough..."

At Kaleidoscope Incorporation and DW Incorporate

"Gentlemen." Zelretch addressed them, standing at the front, overlooking executives and management from both his company and DW. He then pointed to a chart.

"As you can see, after the latest success of no longer holding Sengo Muramasa hostage to just the JP banner, I mean! Finally fine-tuning and releasing him to the rest of the world, along with the successful release of Caster Arturia, has been very profitable for us."

He looked over the room, and those sitting nodded stoically as the room was stacked with piles upon piles of yen, even to the point of overflowing into them, not that they minded it. One of the executives was even sitting on a large bag of money that he had fashioned into a chair.

"However, we cannot get complacent just yet. Thus, I am opening up the board to our next Servant reveal."

A silence fell over the room as they contemplated, using all their will and ingenuity in order to come up with a new and fresh idea, one that'll instantly draw their customers attention and make them willing to roll all their saved-up saint quartz in an attempt to gain their waifu.

"I know!" A hand shot up. All eyes turned to the man.

"Let's make another Arturia Saber-face Servant!"

"Genius!"

"How did I not think of that?!"

Oohs and awe's filled the room, with those closest to him giving him pats on the back and shoulder for such an ingenious idea.

"Hmm, alright, alright, but for what class, though?" Zelretch offered, and the room plunged into silence once more. As with the latest release, all seven main Servant roles were already filled.

"Ohh, sir!"

"Go ahead."

"What if we make this one an Avenger?"

More oohs and awes came.

"And the name?"

"Hnmm, what about...? Mysterious Heroine XXX?"

The room erupted into cheers and exclamations, with members standing to their feet and clapping their hands at the sheer genius of such an idea.

"Brilliant! And we can use the already existing asset and model of Ruler Arturia Pendragon; only modify it to fit with her Avenger/Alter theme and make her already risqué art and outfit even more sexy!"

Excited chatter dominated the room, with the board members giving each other high fives and praising one another and their good work.

"Um, sir?" A voice called out, drawing all eyes to him.

"Hmm, what is it?" Zelretch acknowledged, holding onto a celebratory cup of wine that he was about to drink.

"Isn't that a bit similar to Ruler Jeanne d'Arc and Avenger Jeanne d'Arc Alter? Plus, we have had a few complaints about the character of Arturia being kind of just copied and pasted with every odd Servant release. Maybe we should try something different, or put in the effort and make this one different or unique?"

Silence was all that met the man's proposition. And then everyone burst out laughing, to the point of hysteria. A few clutched their chests, wheezy, even crying in laughter.

The one that spoke just watched it all.

"Please forgive him; he's new." Said another, DW CEO himself, coming up and putting his hand over the man's shoulder, patting his shoulder almost pitifully. "Don't worry, you'll understand how things will work in no time." The CEO assured.

"Indeed." Zelretch nodded. "Put it on the list." He told another executive.

"Sir." Who saluted and then produced a list from nowhere, adding the new and completely original Servant to the list, to the list that's been dubbed the Arturia Saber-face List.

The list of which included:

- Regular Arturia

- Alter Arturia

- Maid Arturia

- Santa Arturia

- Young Arturia

- Lancer Arturia

- Caster Arturia

- Evil Lancer Arturia

- Bunny girl Arturia

- Beach Arturia

- Baeber Arturia

- Baseball Bat Arturia

- Sithlord Arturia

- Galaxy Arturia

- Genderbent Arturia

- "Gray" Arturia

- UmU Arturia

- Padoru Arturia

- Bride Arturia

- Sakura Arturia

- Katana Arturia

- Sakura Arturia Alter

Later, Mysterious Heroine XXX was released to critical success, racking up even more money as consumers sought to buy or collect up saint quartz for a roll banner for their new waifu, for a dark and sexy bunny girl Arturia.

Character Sheet Stat Screen:

Berserker – Lvl: 100 (True Name: Florence Nightingale)

The Angel of Crimea

Job: NPC Servant of Emiya

Resident: The Great Tomb of Nazarick; can travel with summoner.

Alignment: Lawful Good. Sense of Justice: 450

Race: Heroic Spirit

Racial level: No Race levels

Job Level:

[Defender]: 10 Lvl

[Healer]: 10 Lvl

[Expert]: 10 Lvl

[Iron Maiden]: 5 lvl

[Berserker]: 5 Lvl

[Hero]: 5 Lvl

[Nurse of Steel]: 5 lvl

[Guardian Saint]: 5 Lvl

[Other]: 45 Lvl

Total: 100 Job level = 100 level

Ability Chart:

HP: 95

MP: 73

PHY. ATK: 55

PHY. DEF: 95

Agility: 68

MAG. ATK: 10

MAG. DEF: 90

Resist: 100

Special: 100

Total Stats: 686

Author's Note:

Well, that's quite a lot to unpack, and now we're finally moving on! So hurray!

Hopefully the fight with Caster wasn't that bad of a read, and didn't favor either Fate side or Overlord side being superior over the other. For anyone fighting her the first time, especially with the conditions, skills, and help she brings, they're not going to have an easy victory, but with Shirou's prior knowledge and everything, this helps to avoid the many pitfalls that raid would bring, hence why Ainz Ooal Gown and everyone won, relatively easily as unlike others they knew how to defeat for good rather than test the limit of the fight and win through trial and error.

Coming to the discussion with Ainz Ooal Gown and Shirou, and as I've already stated before, is a reconciliation. To the characters, there isn't going to be a magical "happy ending." We know what's going to happen at the end, but for the characters they do not. Everyone lives different lives, it's not outside of expectation or unreasonable to think that they won't play YGGDRASIL for one reason or another. Obligations, life simply getting in the way, or any other explanation, which aren't uncommon in Overlord's world what with the dystopian future. Shirou's flaw was seeing this through his lens and taking his friend's time on YGGDRASIL dwindling as definitive proof and running with it. His thought process is understandable, but the methods he went to do it were certainly wrong, but he's still running with it because he believe it to the correct choice, viewing things in absolute. It can even be looked at as an overreaction. It's possible and there, but it's Shirou that help expedite the matter.

Hence Momonga's answer/choice, just playing when they can and trying to keep up and enjoy the moment. The future is the future, but that doesn't mean the present and what's happening in the moment is any less important. There's still time and while they may be road bumps and gaps, that only makes the moment they come together to play all the more special. YGGDRASIL, for better or for worse, is Shirou's life, and they help occupy that place in his heart. A time may come when it ends, but that only makes the moments they spend together more important. It's Ainz Ooal Gown showing to Shirou that while the future may be murky, that doesn't mean the present should be like that either.

Everything is still valid, but the thought process is shifted. I guess, it's more of them looking on the bright side of things, trying to enjoy the good along with the bad. Not so much a heel turn or abrupt character shift, but a more realization and different mindset to how they'll look at it and move forward.

But yeah, that's that. And with this blasted chapter out of the way, it's time to move onto one of my most anticipated part to finally write one of the "arcs" that I had in mind and planned. The 9th World Champion Tournament!

It's time for a TOURNAMENT ARC!

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