...
(Moments prior)
A series of clashes shook the heavens, each one echoing like micro-explosions across a city brought to ruin. Crimson flames, imbued with the malice of countless lost souls, roared as they engulfed the earth, crying out with a thirst for vengeance. Above, a thousand portals materialized in the sky, each one bearing a deadly arsenal—swords, spears, arrows, bombs, machine guns—every artifact ever crafted by human hands. The figure in golden armor, the King of Heroes, possessed them all as his noble phantasm, the Gates of Babayan.
"Die, Saber!" he bellowed, commanding the weapons to rain down upon the lone figure below. But the individual, with emotionless golden eyes and wielding a twisted sword of promised victory—black and crimson with crackling, purplish energy between its jagged edges—remained unfazed.
"Mana Burst," she calmly declared, infusing her legs with energy and launching herself towards the endless onslaught of weapons. With the grace of a ballet dancer, she evaded each weapon effortlessly, using them as stepping stones to close the distance.
"It is written," she spoke, her voice resolute, "no weapons formed against me shall ever prosper."
Suddenly, shock spread across the face of the King of Heroes. "Wh-what?"
The torrent of weapons, once unleashed with ferocity, met an unexpected fate: they caught fire, their metallic forms disintegrating into ash before they could reach their intended target. The King of Heroes' face twisted in disbelief, a look that would have amused any other hero within the Throne of Heroes in times past. But to her, standing tall amidst the chaos, he was nothing more than a mere insect beneath her gaze. The Sword of Promised Victory glowed with a Crimson aura as she swung it, the blade extending like a whip made of hundreds of shimmering shards that danced towards the king like stardust.
"Damn mongrel," he hissed through gritted teeth, golden portals materializing between him and the approaching shards. He had mere seconds to summon his strongest defense; he had witnessed what those shards had wrought upon Berserker. to his displeasure the dust like substance pierced his defense's
"Excalibur Barrage." she proclaimed. The shards of dust glowed with a sinister crimson light before erupting into a blinding series of explosions that rivaled the sun itself, the shockwaves shattering the atmosphere and threatening neighboring countries. The sheer force of the attack, if not for the planet's resilient will, would have uttered the end to life on Earth. Her shoulder-length, dirty blond hair swayed gently in the wind as her blade effortlessly reformed, the scattered shards of its earlier form seamlessly melding back together. She stood amidst the aftermath, a faint smile touching her lips, indifferent to the lack of smoke or signs of struggle from her opponent's direction. To her, they were mere actors on a stage, their roles inconsequential in the grand narrative unfolding.
She looked down upon the city, a landscape she had witnessed in countless iterations, now reduced to nothing but flames consumed by a gaping black hole. A manifestation wrought by her own blade's interaction with the Greater Grail. Her thoughts briefly turned to her former master, the one who had wielded her in battles past. Had he survived this Disaster as he had before, or had he finally succumbed to the relentless march of death?
From the billowing smoke emerged a figure, a man battered and broken, his once-glorious golden armor now shattered and scattered. His bare chest bore crimson tribal markings, and where his left arm should have been, there was only absence, the residue of the blast having reduced his spirit core to ephemeral blue dust. His crimson eye narrowed as it locked onto her, struggling to comprehend the transformation before him. This was not the Saber he had known throughout the wars—everything about her had changed, as if she were an entirely different person, unrecognizable even to the King of Heroes himself.
"What are you?" he stuttered, his voice strained with disbelief and fury. "What the hell happened to you?" Gilgamesh demanded, his tone laced with the bitterness of humiliation. "Just what did you do?"
Saber approached slowly, her aura burning the very atmosphere around her ""Your fury is but a storm in the tempest of fate." she gave pause as her eyes glowed" A certain Man once said that flaps of a butterfly can cause a Tornado, this is known as a butterfly effect and that is who i am." she spoke in a matter of fact. Gilgamesh, sensing danger, conjured a golden portal and drew forth a sword spinning with crimson fury. "Enuma!!!" he roared, unleashing the swirling energy towards her.
"Sword of Promised Victory!" Saber countered swiftly, her own blade slashing through the air. "Excalibur!!!" she called, a beam of searing light erupting from her blade to intercept Gilgamesh's attack.
"Illish!!!" Gilgamesh bellowed, his sword meeting hers in a clash that reverberated with primal power. Their clash rent the very fabric of reality, unleashing waves of destructive energy that tore through the battlefield. The air crackled with power as Saber and Gilgamesh locked in a dance of a beam struggle.
Saber's eyes blazed with determination as she pushed against Gilgamesh's overwhelming force. The crimson energy of Enuma Elish clashed with the radiant brilliance of Excalibur, each attack seeking to obliterate the other. Sparks flew, illuminating the darkened sky as their swords met in a clash that echoed across dimensions.
"FRAGMEnts POsSES tHE POwER To..."
Gilgamesh suddenly saw fissures crackling through the world around him. For a fleeting moment, fragments of memories and visions assaulted his mind—a tapestry of events that seemed to blur the boundaries of time and possibility. Images of himself, bearing witness to deeds never done, and scenes unfolding in places unfamiliar yet hauntingly real.
"Unforgivable!" Gilgamesh's roar reverberated through the chaos, his fury and remaining magic fueling an attack of unprecedented magnitude. The sheer intensity of his onslaught threatened to rupture reality itself, the very world quaking under the strain. The black hole, born of pure destructive energy, expanded voraciously, devouring everything in its path.
The blast erupted with a blinding flash, a wave of pure energy cascading outward with devastating force. The city, already ravaged by their conflict, was consumed in an instant, its inhabitants swallowed by the relentless maw of annihilation. Saber and Gilgamesh, locked in their final duel, were overtaken by the unstoppable tide.
As the wave of destruction spread across the globe, The intensity of the force continued to ripple outward, its shockwaves reverberating across the golpe.
But just as quickly as it had emerged, the force began to withdraw, retreating back towards the core of the Greater Grail. The black hole, now pulsating with a bluish hue, seemed to shimmer and distort before collapsing inward upon itself. In its place, a swirling gateway materialized—a rip in the fabric of space and time, glowing with an eerie luminescence.
The air crackled with residual energy, charged with the aftermath of their cataclysmic battle. Debris and remnants of the destroyed city were drawn inexorably towards the gateway, disappearing into its depths with an unsettling silence.
There were no signs of Gilgamesh or Saber, nor any remnants of the fires or the city. All that remained was a huge crater. At its center sat a massive blue portal, glowing and swirling with an eerie light.
The area around the crater showed clear signs of destruction. The ground was scorched and broken, scattered with rubble from the city that once stood there. Wisps of smoke drifted in the air, stirred by a gentle breeze blowing through the desolate landscape.
Above, dark clouds lingered in the sky, contrasting with the faint glow coming from the portal below. It gave the scene an unsettling feel, as if reality itself had been torn apart, leaving behind this strange scene of ruin and mystery.
"A clUsteR of FrAgments...."
Ash fell from the sky like snowflakes, covering the devastated landscape in a soft, ashen blanket. Rin stood amidst the aftermath, her hand outstretched as a single flake landed gently upon her palm. She watched it intently, her eyes tracing its descent through the air.She walked forward, her steps cautious amidst the desolation. The once-bustling streets now lay silent, littered with scorched skeletons and charred rubble. The ground beneath her feet radiated with fiery heat, a grim reminder that the destruction was still fresh, the embers of the fire still smoldering.
Rin's heart sank as she surveyed the scene. There were no signs of life, only remnants of what once was— The silence would drive any sane person to madness, broken only by the faint crackling of flames and the occasional creak of collapsing structures. she breathed a breath of sorrow,
It was as if the cries of the fallen lingered, their spirits leaving an indelible mark upon the land. Rin could almost feel their presence, a ghostly echo of lives extinguished in an instant.
She continued her search, her eyes scanning the ruins for any sign of survivors. But with each step, the realization grew heavier—this place had become a graveyard, she tried to deny it but her father, her mother and even her sister were properly gone.
(...)
Shirou walked amidst a pile of rubble and armored corpses, his blood-red hair catching in the breeze as he took a moment to catch his breath. The battlefield lay in ruins around him, the aftermath of a fierce struggle. His gaze swept over the fallen warriors, their once-imposing armor now crumbling into blue dust.
It had been a hard-fought battle, but Shirou had finally cracked the code. The strange lines on the armored figures had revealed their weaknesses, guiding his strikes to fatal points where their armor offered no protection.
With a newfound sense of purpose, Shirou repeated his tactic with practiced skill, hurling his short swords with precision. The enemies fell swiftly, their armor failing against his targeted assaults.
Amidst the quiet aftermath, Shirou glanced at his screen with frustration. His stats remained unchanged, and a sense of urgency gripped him as a new message appeared:
Name: Shirou
Level: 15
Title: Inheritor, Survivor
{New Title Unlocked}
{Sharpshooter}
his eyes narrowed when he saw that his skill stats were still the same as before and a frustration boiled in his heart. The system sensing his plight glowed a pop up.
{Protocol Autoactivation}
{Overdevelopment will cause the death of the user due to underdevelopment }
Shirou frowned, unsure of the system's warnings about a protocol activation and the implications for his survival. The system indicated a long wait period and missions that spoke of seeking truth and altering the course of events.
"Wait period: 14 years," the message read cryptically, leaving Shirou perplexed and anxious for answers.
"Could you please explain?" Shirou asked, seeking clarity from the enigmatic system.
{Access Denied: Firewall strength Rank Ex}
Mission: Seek the truth, Inheritor
Turn back the pendulum or forsake it. The choice is yours, Hero.
Shirou sighed, feeling the weight of responsibility upon him. The system's cryptic messages hinted at a deeper purpose.
The boy pressed onward, his gaze fixed ahead with unwavering determination. In the distance, he could discern a faint light at the end of the tunnel. As he ran towards it, the light grew brighter, enveloping him in its radiance. Closing his eyes against the glare, he braced himself as the brightness intensified, accompanied by an intense heat that seared his skin.
When he cautiously opened his eyes, he found himself in a city consumed by flames—a sight hauntingly familiar to him. Flames danced and roared, engulfing entire buildings and casting an eerie glow across the sky. Strangely, pieces of the ground floated upwards, defying gravity and adding to the surreal scene.
The air crackled with heat and the acrid scent of smoke, mingled with a sense of foreboding. The boy stood amidst the inferno, trying to make sense of it all. Memories stirred within him, memories of a nightmare.
As he took hesitant steps forward, navigating through the floating debris and flames, a sense of urgency gripped him. He knew he had to find answers amidst this turmoil, to uncover the truth behind this apocalyptic scene and the role he was destined to play in its unraveling. With determination hardening in his heart, he ventured deeper into the blazing cityscape, ready to confront whatever challenges awaited him in this surreal and dangerous world.
The system before him glowed once more, displaying its message in stark clarity:
Mission: Escape the Greater Grail
Objectives: Find the Gate and Escape
With a deep breath to steady his nerves, he scanned the blazing cityscape before him. The Gate—the path to freedom—was his goal. He knew he had to navigate through the chaos, avoiding the floating debris and navigating the labyrinth of flames that threatened to engulf everything in their path.
The air around him shimmered with heat, and the distant echoes of crackling flames filled his ears. Every step forward felt like a battle against the oppressive heat and the weight of uncertainty.