Underground Workshop
It's… beginning? The true Holy Grail War.
"Looks like the skirmishes are over. Time to get serious," Roy murmured, leaning back in his chair, gazing at the dim ceiling. No trace of melancholy marred his face—only a flicker of excitement.
"Gilgamesh really played his hand well, prying out most of my plans… Now Kayneth knows I've got my own agenda," He mused. "Trust won't come easy anymore. Suspicion's planted, and it's hard to uproot. As for Tokiomi, when I laid everything bare, his life became precarious. I'd planned to give Kariya a shot at facing him directly, but… pity."
"Why didn't Kariya show? Is something up with Berserker again?" Roy reflected on the banquet, muttering to himself.
"Master, got a headache?" Scáthach, lounging nearby, teased. "I don't see it. Tonight's costs were trivial to you. You barely blinked."
"As expected of the Queen of the Land of Shadows—you know me well," Roy grinned, standing confidently. "They're the ones who should be worried. Whether it's their scheme to sacrifice Archer for the Root or our attack plan being exposed, it's all inconsequential to me. Our main goal's achieved, with unexpected bonuses. Now, we just trade Irisviel to secure what we need."
"Tch, Crowley, your words sting your senpai," Aoko Aozaki interjected, pushing open the door. Clad in her signature coat, her hair was disheveled from hours in the workshop, reeking of mixed reagents.
"You need a bath, Aoko," Roy said, waving a hand under his nose.
"You've got the nerve to say that? Is there even a bathroom here?" Aoko shot him a glare, surveying the sealed parking garage, ten meters underground. No amenities existed—hardly better than the Land of Shadow. No wonder Scáthach always wanted out. It wasn't a place for humans.
To mages, though, its proximity to ley lines and the Greater Grail made it ideal for drawing mana discreetly—a perfect magical stronghold.
Comfort? Roy hadn't considered it.
His focus was the radiant seven-colored gem suspended at the hall's center, harmonizing with a glowing white chalice below. The two complemented each other, forming the prototype of his long-awaited creation.
Even Roy's eyes gleamed with anticipation.
It's almost done—my ultimate Mystic Code.
"What an incredible ritual," Scáthach remarked, admiring his methods. "Using the ley lines and the Greater Grail's mana, combined with your theories, Runes, and techniques—it's nearly divine craftsmanship."
In the Age of Gods, only a forge god could craft such a treasure. That a modern mage, in this era, achieved it was astounding.
Remarkable.
Scáthach eagerly awaited its completion, hoping it could satisfy her.
"It's infused with the Philosopher's Stone, after all," Roy nodded. Through relentless effort, he'd siphoned nearly a third of Fuyuki's ley line mana and the Greater Grail's reserves, channeling them into this pseudo-Grail—his ultimate Mystic Code. Gilgamesh's Stone had accelerated progress, elevating it beyond expectations.
It had reached divine perfection, a breathtaking marvel.
"Ugh, I was at a critical point in my research, and you drag me out to fetch that homunculus, saying you'll trade the Lesser Grail for Avalon. What's that about?" Aoko grumbled, puzzled. "Avalon's valuable, but it's no match for the Lesser Grail. Only King Arthur can wield it. At best, it's a healing amulet or curse-breaker. Trading the Lesser Grail to Kiritsugu for it?"
She couldn't fathom Roy's logic. The War's goal was victory, and the Lesser Grail far outvalued Avalon. What was he thinking?
Despite her confusion, Aoko complied.
She coveted the Third Magic, desperate to unravel it. Roy, knowing her fixation, shared the War's secrets and supported her fully, helping her overcome past burdens. Her contributions paled in comparison.
She'd hoped to repay him with Runes, but Scáthach's presence made them laughable. The Queen of the Land of Shadows's trust in Roy was evident—despite their brief time together, they shared a bond like old comrades, entrusting each other completely.
Roy gave Scáthach unmatched freedom, indulging her whims, encouraging her to explore the modern world, and promising to fulfill her wish. She reciprocated with unwavering loyalty, aiding his victory. Runes? She'd given them freely.
Compared to Aoko, who'd slaved for three Runes, it was humbling. She might need to beg Roy for more.
So many debts… how do I repay them? Aoko sighed.
Roy, unfazed, shared his plans openly. "Abandoning the Lesser Grail makes sense. It'll return to the Greater Grail's site at the War's end, offering little use. With the Greater Grail flawed, trading it for Avalon maximizes our gains."
He approached the altar, caressing the Mystic Code's sleek contours. "I've drained a third of the Greater Grail's mana. With the Philosopher's Stone, Runes, and alchemy arrays, this pseudo-Grail matches the Greater Grail's functions, save for mana volume. No worries."
"Another reason: Gilgamesh's Noble Phantasm, Ea, can destroy the world. Even Scáthach can't match its power. As Caster, her trump card is countered by it. We need a Noble Phantasm to block Ea. Besides Enkidu or a certain Sun King's tomb, only Avalon, the scabbard with corrective properties, fits. Plus, Arthur with or without Avalon poses different threats. This weakens her and counters Gilgamesh. Why not? As for activating it…"
Roy smiled, releasing a pink petal. "I planned to brute-force it with alchemy and mana. But a certain someone, to wake a sleeping princess, shared the activation method. Thanks to him, our odds are higher. We're ready for the final battle."
He soothed the trembling Mystic Code, whispering, "Patience. The final act awaits. Our battle comes last."
Waking a princess? Some fairy tale? Aoko, still puzzled, dropped her objections.
Roy had never misled her. Despite surprises, he'd controlled the War's flow. She'd contributed little to their success.
If he was this confident, why doubt him? She owed him too much not to join the fight.
Aoko smirked. "If you're set, go all out. I don't know your plan, but I'm in. If you crash and burn, as long as you're not too dead, I'll drag you back from the brink."
"Quite the reassuring promise. Thanks, Aoko," Roy chuckled.
He glanced at the ready ritual array and the Mystic Code, shaking his head. Fail? Impossible. Not after coming this far.
Victory was certain.
"Then let's go—win this Holy Grail War together."
With pleasantries done, Roy noted the time for his meeting with Kiritsugu. He looked at Scáthach, armed and smiling, and Aoko, lighting a cigarette with a reckless grin. He smiled back.
"Before us, none stand."
Pushing open the door, he stepped into the world, running a hand through his hair, shedding his humble facade for sharp, ambitious eyes, gazing at the boundless horizon.
Aoko sighed but said nothing. Scáthach, finding his flair cool, summoned her spear and stood beside him, striding into the vast world.
Before us, none stand.
His heart believed it.
Tohsaka Residence
"Thank you, Kirei. It's the final stretch. Without a Servant, you can't help further. That's fine—leave the rest to me," Tokiomi said.
Kirei had cited Assassin's elimination to bid farewell, intending to return to the Church's headquarters.
Tokiomi regretted it but couldn't insist. Kirei's aid—Assassin's coordination, handling scenes—had been invaluable. A worthy son of Risei, destined for greatness. Tokiomi admired his student.
If Kirei escaped safely, Tokiomi would be pleased.
"Sorry, Master," Kirei said, head bowed, his expression hidden.
"No, I should apologize. You've done well," Tokiomi replied, shaking his head. He presented a rustic gray box to Kirei.
"What's this?" Kirei asked, surprised.
"The Mercury Blade," Tokiomi said, opening the box to reveal a silver ceremonial sword, handing it to his prized disciple. "My father passed this to me, symbolizing mastery of the Tohsaka magecraft. Now, as your professor, I give it to you."
Kirei accepted silently.
Tokiomi continued gravely, "Kirei, I've prepared for my death, but I'm still uneasy. If I fall in this War, please, for our bond, support the Tohsaka family and guide Rin."
With Roy's revelations exposing the War's truths, the situation had become unpredictable.
Tokiomi sensed Gilgamesh's growing disdain, even fury. Without his mana, the King of Heroes might have executed him already.
He was walking a knife's edge.
Yet, his obsession with the Root and mage pride drove him to continue, despite his rift with Gilgamesh, dancing on that blade for the Root.
professor might die… Kirei's heart stirred, recalling his wife's tragic end and his true thoughts then.
If Tokiomi was doomed, why not end him himself?
His mind wrestled, recalling Gilgamesh's words: "Kirei, life is about pleasure."
Pleasure, pleasure…
The devilish whisper echoed, tempting the priest toward corruption.
He nodded softly. "I understand, professor."
"Then hurry, don't miss your flight. Thrive in Europe, stay safe," Tokiomi said, patting Kirei's shoulder, turning to the window, feeling the solitude of the mage's path.
Aoi, Rin, Sakura… bless me. I must fulfill the Tohsaka legacy, not fail our ancestors.
Blood sprayed. A chill pierced his chest.
As he sought ancestral blessings, searing pain stole his breath.
"professor, if your fate is sealed, let me send you off. Freeing you from obsession might be a mercy," Kirei's voice, cold as a demon's, echoed through Tokiomi's hollow chest.
The Mercury Blade, just gifted, pierced his heart. Tokiomi's face twisted in agony, staring at his prized disciple.
Kirei's smile was alien, like Mephistopheles claiming Faust's soul.
Blood dripped, staining the floor. Tokiomi staggered, collapsing.
It's Caster… that unseen Caster controlled my student…
Even dying, Tokiomi couldn't believe Kirei's betrayal, blaming a nonexistent Caster.
Sorry, Kirei… my negligence let you fall…
Sorry, Aoi, Rin, Sakura…
Father's end is here.
And Kariya…
In his final moments, Tokiomi's mind flashed to his scorned childhood friend, wondering if Kariya could've saved him.
His consciousness faded.
Hearing Tokiomi's final apology, Kirei's eyes flickered with complexity.
Glancing at the dying man, he left, letting Tokiomi suffer alone.
He stripped the bloodied Command Seals from Tokiomi's hand.
Flames engulfed the mansion, severing his past.
In the blaze of his professor's corpse, Kirei laughed, dancing wildly, consumed by twisted joy and fulfillment.
The fire was his professor's grand funeral.
"Who the hell set this fire?" A disheveled figure emerged from the Tohsaka basement soon after Kirei's departure.
It was Kariya Matou, who'd skipped the banquet to ambush Tokiomi.
Coughing, brushing off ash, he wondered what happened.
Searching the burning mansion, he pushed open the study door, spotting a familiar figure in a pool of blood, barely alive. His pupils shrank as he shouted, "Tokiomi Tohsaka!!"
***
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