The interior of the ziggurat of Uruk was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life. And that was saying a lot, considering I'd been inside Ozymandias's golden pyramid in the previous Singularity, and had walked through the marble hallways of Camelot before the city rose into the sky. Each of those architectural wonders had its own personality: Ozymandias's pyramid was a declaration of power, a monument to the ego of a pharaoh who believed himself a god. Camelot was a cathedral of purity, a sanctuary of light that concealed a divine darkness. But the ziggurat of Uruk was different. It was older. More primitive. More real.
The adobe walls rose at impossible angles, decorated with reliefs that narrated Gilgamesh's feats: his victory over the giant Humbaba, his friendship with Enkidu, his quest for immortality. Each scene was carved with exquisite detail, colored with pigments that had withstood the passage of millennia. Oil torches illuminated the hallways with flickering light that made shadows dance over the reliefs, bringing the stone figures to life. The air smelled of incense, of cedar, and of something more ancient, something I couldn't identify but that made the hair on my arms stand on end.
But the beauty of the ziggurat was only a facade. A mask that concealed the despair reigning within.
Getting in was easy. Merlin had cleared the way with his magic, disintegrating the Lahmu blocking the main entrance. But once inside, things were even more out of control than outside. The ziggurat wasn't just a palace; it was a refuge. Hundreds of people—perhaps thousands—crowded its hallways and halls. Men, women, children, the elderly. All with the same look: tired, wounded, desperate. Their clothes were dirty and torn. Their eyes had that empty gaze of someone who had seen too much and had lost the ability to process it.
A woman ran past me, carrying a bundle of bandages. A child cried in a corner, hugging a stray dog that licked his wounds. An old man, his arm in a sling, argued with a soldier about the best way to reinforce the east gate. Reports came in constantly: "The Lahmu have broken the third line on the north wall!" "Leonidas's battalion is retreating, they need reinforcements!" "Bring more water, the wounded are dehydrating!"
It was organized chaos. A macabre dance of survival.
"This is... horrible," Jeanne Ruler whispered, her face pale under the torchlight. Her standard, usually waving proudly, hung limp in her hands.
"This is war," Nero replied, her tone unusually somber. "War isn't glorious. It isn't beautiful. It's this: blood, sweat, and tears. I learned that in Rome. I learned it the hard way."
"Senpai," Mash grabbed my arm. "What can we do?"
"Everything within our power," I replied, though my voice sounded less firm than I would have liked.
We kept advancing toward the heart of the ziggurat. The hallways snaked upward, each level more heavily guarded than the last. The soldiers looked at us with a mixture of curiosity and distrust. They didn't know who we were. They only knew we were foreigners, and in times of war, foreigners were suspect.
But no one stopped us. I assumed Merlin had sent some kind of warning, or perhaps Gilgamesh already knew we were here. After all, he was the king of Uruk. The all-seeing one. The one who possessed clairvoyance.
The throne room was at the top of the ziggurat. It was a wide, open space, with cedar columns supporting a ceiling decorated with golden stars. The floor was polished marble, and in the center, on a raised platform, stood the throne. It wasn't an ostentatious throne like Ozymandias's. It was a functional throne, carved from cedar wood and decorated with lapis lazuli inlays. A king's throne, not a god's.
And on that throne, sitting with one leg crossed and his cheek resting on a fist, was Gilgamesh.
He was different from how I remembered him in the game. In the game, Gilgamesh Caster was an imposing figure, yes, but he was also approachable. A wise king who had returned from his quest for immortality with a new perspective on humanity. A king who cared for his people, even if he hid it under layers of arrogance. But the Gilgamesh before me now... was something else.
His skin was paler than usual. His red eyes, normally bright and full of life, were ringed with dark circles. His posture, though maintaining royal dignity, betrayed deep exhaustion. He was still Gilgamesh. He was still the King of Heroes. But he was a Gilgamesh who had been fighting nonstop for weeks, watching his city crumble around him, and who now clung to the last shred of hope he had left.
His eyes met mine the moment I crossed the threshold. And I knew, without need for words, that he was evaluating me. Measuring every step I took. Every gesture. Every breath.
"So you finally arrive," he said, his deep voice echoing through the hall. "The last Master of humanity. Leonel Herrera."
"Your Majesty," I replied, bowing my head in a respectful bow.
"There's no need to call me Your Majesty. Gilgamesh will suffice. Or King, if you prefer." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Though seeing you up close... you're not what I expected."
"What did you expect, Your Majesty?"
"Someone else." His tone turned cryptic. "My visions never fail. They are a gift—or a curse—I've possessed since birth. I see the future. I see all possible timelines. I see what will be and what could be." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And for months, my visions showed me a young man named Fujimaru Ritsuka. A Master of Chaldea. A boy with dark hair and determined eyes. He was the one who would come to Uruk. He was the one who would help us face Tiamat. He was... the hero of this story."
Fujimaru Ritsuka. The original protagonist of Fate/Grand Order. The one who should have been here in my place. I swallowed.
"But one day," Gilgamesh continued, "the visions changed. Suddenly, I no longer saw Fujimaru. I saw another. A young Latin American man. A strategist who had defeated Cu Chulainn Alter. A Master who had turned the Lion King into an ally. A man named Leonel Herrera." His eyes pierced through me. "And along with that change, my visions of the future became... chaotic. Tiamat awakened much earlier. The goddesses disappeared. Uruk fell sooner than planned. The entire course of history was altered. And the reason for that alteration... is you."
Silence in the hall was absolute. I could hear the crackling of the torches. I could hear my own breathing. And I could hear, in the back of my mind, Tezcatlipoca's voice.
"He knows you're an anomaly."
"I know."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. Confess? Deny it?"
"I'm not going to deny it," I said, choosing the truth. "I know I shouldn't be here. I know this story had a different protagonist. But I'm here. And I'm going to do everything I can to save Uruk."
Gilgamesh stared at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile curved his lips. It wasn't a joyful smile. It was a tired, resigned smile, but not devoid of hope.
"I know," he said. "I know, Master of Chaldea. I don't need your confession. My eyes see the truth. You are an anomaly. An error in the fabric of destiny. Something that shouldn't exist." He paused. "But you are also our only chance."
"So you trust me?"
"I trust my visions. And my visions show me that, despite everything, you are the one who is here. You are the one who can change the outcome." He leaned back in his throne. "I don't know why fate has placed you in this position. I don't know what force has altered history to bring you here. But since you are here... fight. Fight for Uruk. Fight for humanity. And perhaps, just perhaps, we can survive."
Merlin, who had been watching the conversation in silence, stepped forward. His usual smile had disappeared, replaced by a serious expression.
"Your Majesty, the Master of Chaldea has arrived with a minimal team. But he has more Servants at his base. We can summon them."
"How many?" Gilgamesh asked.
"At least ten," I replied. "Maybe more. It depends on how much mana I can channel."
"Ten Servants... it's not enough to defeat Tiamat. But it may be enough to contain her Lahmu while we prepare the final defense." Gilgamesh stood up. "I will give you a house near the ziggurat, on a ley line. There you can establish a summoning circle and bring your allies."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Don't thank me yet. This isn't a gift. It's an investment." His red eyes gleamed. "I will give you resources, I will give you time, I will give you the opportunity to fight. But in return, I expect results. I want to see that army of Servants you promise. I want to see you repel the Lahmu. I want to see... hope."
"You will have it," I replied.
Gilgamesh nodded. Then, his gaze drifted to the window behind his throne. A window that faced the horizon. And there, in the distance, a shadow stood out.
A shadow so large it eclipsed the mountains. A shadow that moved slowly, advancing with the inevitability of a tide. A shadow from which emanated a power so ancient, so primordial, that I could feel it even from here, even kilometers away.
Tiamat.
The Beast of Creation. The mother of all monsters. The goddess who existed before the gods existed. Her body was a mass of black, shiny flesh, from which tentacles, horns, and impossible limbs sprouted. Her head, if it could be called a head, was a crown of twisted horns that rose toward the sky like a blasphemous parody of a divine halo. And her size... her size was incomprehensible. She wasn't a creature. She was a walking mountain. An ecosystem. A world.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" said Gilgamesh, his voice barely a whisper. "In a terrible way, she is beautiful."
"She's terrifying," I replied.
"The one doesn't negate the other." The king turned to me. "Tiamat will reach Uruk in approximately one week. Perhaps less, if she accelerates. That is the time you have to bring your Servants. To prepare your defenses. To find a way to defeat her."
"One week?" Nero asked, incredulous. "That's nothing!"
"It's what we have." Gilgamesh shrugged. "Humanity has never had the luxury of choosing its battles. We fight with what we have, where we are, when we can. And now, Master of Chaldea... it's your turn."
The house Gilgamesh assigned me was near the ziggurat, on a street that hadn't yet been devastated by the Lahmu. It was a two-story adobe construction, with an inner courtyard and several empty rooms. The most important thing was its location: it was right on top of a ley line, a convergence point of magical energy that would facilitate the summons.
Mash placed her shield in the center of the courtyard. Lord Camelot wasn't just a defensive barrier; it also functioned as an improvised summoning circle, thanks to its connection to the Throne of Heroes. The white light of her Noble Phantasm spread across the floor, forming runic patterns that glowed faintly.
"Ready, Senpai," she said, stepping back.
"Thank you, Mash." I took a deep breath. "Ready?"
Nero nodded. Jeanne Ruler too. Merlin, who had accompanied us, leaned against a wall with his enigmatic smile.
"Go ahead, Master. Do some magic."
"Tezcatlipoca," I called.
My Persona manifested beside me. Its golden plates gleamed under the torchlight. Its glyphs pulsed with energy.
"Are you sure about this, Master?" it asked.
"No. But we have no other choice."
"Summoning so many Servants in a row will deplete your mana reserves. The risk of burning out your Magic Circuits is high. Very high."
"I know."
"And yet..."
"And yet, I'm going to do it. Because if I don't, Uruk will fall. And if Uruk falls, humanity falls. I have no choice."
Tezcatlipoca was silent. Then, a sense of pride—yes, pride—emanated from him.
"You're stubborn, Master. But that stubbornness is what makes you strong. Go ahead. I'll take care of regulating the mana flow. I won't let you burn out."
"Thank you."
I extended my hand toward the summoning circle. I closed my eyes. And I began.
The first to arrive was Tamamo no Mae.
The circle's energy concentrated into a pillar of golden light, and when it dissipated, there she was. Her nine tails waved behind her like a divine fox fan. Her golden eyes found mine immediately, and a radiant smile lit up her face.
"Goshujin-sama!" she exclaimed, running toward me and hugging me with all her tails. "Finally! Finally I'm here! I've been counting the minutes! The seconds! The milliseconds!"
"Tamamo... you're suffocating me..."
"I don't care!" She squeezed the hug even tighter. "You've been away too long! You promised you'd summon me soon and it's been hours!"
"It's been... like three hours since I arrived in Babylonia."
"Three hours too long!"
Finally, she let me go, though her tails kept brushing against my arms. She looked around, evaluating the adobe house, the inner courtyard, the Mesopotamian sky visible through the skylight.
"Is this Babylonia?" she asked.
"Mesopotamia, technically. Uruk."
"It's... austere. But it has its charm." Her eyes sparkled. "And it has Goshujin-sama. That's all that matters."
"Tamamo, the situation is critical. Tiamat is approaching. I need you to help with the defense."
"I know." Her expression turned serious. "Merlin briefed us before the Rayshift. I know what's at stake." She gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry. Your fox wife will take care of everything."
I felt a wave of warmth in my chest. I had missed her presence more than I realized.
"Welcome to Babylonia, Tamamo."
The second was Kiyohime.
The pillar of light rose again, and when it faded, Kiyohime was there, in her blue dress, her dragon eyes gleaming with restrained emotion.
"Anchin-sama," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I waited. I waited patiently. I didn't transform into a dragon. I didn't threaten anyone. I was good." She took a step forward. "Can I... hug you?"
"Of course, Kiyohime."
She threw herself at me, wrapping me in a hug that was surprisingly gentle for someone who could turn into a dragon. Her body trembled slightly, and I felt her warm breath against my neck.
"I missed you," she whispered. "A lot. Too much."
"I missed you too, Kiyohime."
"Really?"
"Really."
She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "Then... is the punishment over?"
"The punishment ended in Chaldea. We're in Babylonia now. And I need your help."
"You'll have it." Her expression hardened with determination. "I'll fight for you, Anchin-sama. For you and for humanity. Even though I don't care much about humanity. But you care. So I care too."
I smiled. "You're incredible, Kiyohime."
"I know."
The third was Artoria Saber Alter.
The pillar of light was darker this time, tinged with shadows. And when it dissipated, Artoria Saber Alter was there, in her black armor, her Excalibur Morgan gleaming with a sinister light. Her golden eyes evaluated me coldly.
"Master. You're late."
"I just arrived in Babylonia three hours ago."
"Three hours late." She gave a half-smile. "Acceptable. Where's the enemy?"
"Everywhere. Lahmu, Tiamat's beasts, and Tiamat herself approaching."
"Good." She drew her sword. "I haven't had a good battle in weeks. Arguments with Morgan don't count."
"I'm glad you're enthusiastic."
"It's not enthusiasm. It's anticipation."
The fourth was Artoria Lancer Alter.
She arrived wrapped in a storm of dark energy, her Rhongomyniad gleaming in her hand. Her presence was imposing, almost oppressive. Her golden eyes met mine, and for an instant, I saw something I didn't expect: relief.
"Master. You're alive."
"For now."
"That's enough." She positioned herself beside me, her lance pointed at the ground. "Plan?"
"Defend Uruk. Contain the Lahmu. Find a way to stop Tiamat."
"Acceptable. And after?"
"After?"
"After the battle. When this is over." Her eyes glowed. "The punishment. Is it still in effect?"
"The punishment is over, Artoria. You don't have to worry."
"I'm not worried. Just... confirming."
But I saw her cheeks tinge slightly red, and I knew she was lying.
The fifth was Morgan le Fay.
Her arrival was different from the others. There was no blaring pillar of light, but a soft blue luminescence that spread across the courtyard like a mantle of stars. And when the light faded, Morgan was there, in her fairy queen dress and her dark crystal staff. Her blue eyes found mine immediately, and a smile—genuine, not calculated—curved her lips.
"My husband. You kept your promise."
"I promised I would summon you."
"And you did. That's more than most men can say." She stepped forward and took my hand. "The situation is dire. I know. Merlin informed me. Tiamat, the Lahmu, the battle for Uruk. I'm prepared."
"Thank you, Morgan."
"Don't thank me. I'll fight by your side, but not because I care about humanity." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I'll fight because you are here. And where you are is where I must be."
"How romantic," Tamamo murmured, with a hint of jealousy.
"It's not romanticism. It's pragmatism." Morgan smiled. "Though a little romanticism never hurts."
The sixth was Scáthach.
She arrived without warning. The summoning circle hadn't even finished activating; she simply appeared in the center, as if she had been waiting for the exact moment to materialize. Her spear Gae Bolg gleamed in her hand, and her crimson eyes scanned me from head to toe.
"You're late, husband."
"So I've been told."
"I don't like waiting. You know that."
"I know. But I'm here now."
"Yes. You're here." She stepped forward, and her gauntleted hand grabbed my chin. "Have you been taking care of yourself? You look tired."
"I've been fighting Lahmu. And I just summoned six Servants in a row."
"Six is nothing. You can handle more." Her eyes gleamed. "But I'll leave that for later. Now, tell me where the enemies are. I need to stretch my legs."
"Scáthach, this is serious."
"I know." Her expression softened. "I know, Leonel. And that's why I'm here. To fight by your side. To protect you." She paused. "To make sure you survive."
"That's... oddly affectionate, coming from you."
"Don't get used to it."
The seventh was Jeanne d'Arc Alter.
Her arrival was an explosion of black fire. Flames of hatred burst from the summoning circle, and when they dissipated, Jeanne Alter was there, her sword in hand and her expression twisted into a grimace of contained fury.
"Idiot!" she shouted, the moment she saw me.
"What did I do now?"
"Leave me in Chaldea! While you came here to fight monsters! Without me!"
"Jeanne, I just arrived..."
"I don't care! You should have brought me from the start! I'm your girlfriend! Your Avenger! Your... your...!" She choked on her words, her cheeks flushing red. "Yours! Period!"
"Jeanne..."
"Don't call me Jeanne! Call me...!" She paused, her fury slowly fading. "Tell me you've taken care of yourself. Tell me you haven't been hurt. Tell me... tell me you're okay."
"I'm okay, Jeanne. Thanks to you."
"To me? I just got here."
"But I knew you were waiting for me. And that gave me strength."
She was silent. Then, she muttered something unintelligible and punched me in the shoulder. It was a soft blow, almost affectionate.
"You're an idiot. But you're my idiot. Don't forget it."
"I won't."
The eighth was Mordred.
She arrived with a roar of impatience, Clarent already drawn. Her armor gleamed under the torchlight, and her expression was that of someone who had been waiting far too long.
"Finally!" she exclaimed. "I thought you'd never summon me! Do you know how boring Chaldea is without you? The others do nothing but fight over the schedule, and I have to put up with them."
"Mordred, you're in Babylonia now. There are Lahmu everywhere. I don't think you'll be bored."
"Perfect!" She grinned from ear to ear. "Give me something to hit!"
"That won't be a problem."
The ninth was Artoria Pendragon Saber.
The original. The one from Fuyuki. My first Servant. She arrived with the dignity of a king, her invisible sword in hand and her blue tunic swaying in a wind that didn't exist. Her green eyes found me, and a faint smile curved her lips.
"Master. You've gotten me into another war."
"Sorry, Artoria. But I need your help."
"Don't apologize. War is my element." She drew Excalibur, and the light of the sword illuminated the courtyard. "Besides, someone has to keep the Alters in check."
"I heard that," Saber Alter said from a corner.
"It was intended."
The tenth was Artoria Pendragon Lancer.
The former Lion King. The redeemed goddess. She arrived wrapped in golden light, her Rhongomyniad shining like a star. Her green eyes—human, warm—sought me out immediately.
"Leonel. I've come."
"Artoria... thank you."
"Don't thank me. I'm here because I want to be." She paused. "Because you gave me back my humanity. And now, I want to use it to protect yours."
"That's... very poetic."
"I learned it from Bedivere."
His name echoed through the courtyard like a bell toll. We all fell silent for a moment. Bedivere. The knight who had sacrificed himself in Camelot. The friend we had lost.
"We'll fight in his memory," I said finally.
"Yes," Artoria Lancer replied. "We'll fight."
Ten Servants. Ten legendary warriors. Ten women who, for one reason or another, had placed their trust in me.
The burden of maintaining them all was... considerable. I felt the mana constantly flowing through my Magic Circuits, like a river threatening to overflow. Tezcatlipoca was working at full capacity, regulating the flow, keeping me from burning out. But even with his help, the effort was exhausting.
"You're at seventy percent of your maximum capacity," he reported. "If you summon more, you'll enter the danger zone."
"I don't need more. Ten is enough."
"Enough for what?"
"Enough to start."
I turned to my Servants. They were all looking at me, waiting for my orders. Their faces reflected determination, concern, love. I had fought alongside them, laughed with them, punished them and forgiven them. They were my family. My harem. My army.
"Listen," I said. "The situation is dire. Tiamat is approaching. The Lahmu attack in waves. Uruk is on the brink of collapse. But we are here. And as long as we are here, Uruk will not fall."
"What's the plan, Master?" Artoria Saber asked.
"The plan is to hold the line. You'll form teams and take turns on the walls. Tamamo, you're magical support. Heal the wounded, buff the soldiers, cast containment spells. Kiyohime, Mordred, you're the frontline. Your firepower is the highest."
"Understood!" Mordred roared.
"Whatever you say, Anchin-sama," Kiyohime nodded.
"Artoria Saber, Artoria Saber Alter, Artoria Lancer, Artoria Lancer Alter: you'll form the royal guard. Protect the ziggurat. If the Lahmu reach Gilgamesh, all is lost."
"We'll protect it with our lives," Artoria Saber replied.
"Morgan, Scáthach: you're our trump cards. Your power is too great to waste on the walls. Save your strength for when Tiamat arrives."
"Wait?" Scáthach raised an eyebrow. "I don't like waiting."
"I know. But it's necessary."
"I'll do what you ask, husband," Morgan said. "But when Tiamat arrives, don't expect me to hold back."
"I don't expect you to."
"Jeanne Alter, Jeanne Ruler: you'll be the beacon. Your presence on the battlefield will inspire the soldiers. Your fire and your faith will be our banner."
"Inspiring... how boring," Jeanne Alter snorted.
"But necessary," Jeanne Ruler added, with a smile.
"Mash, Nero: you'll stay with me. You'll be my last line of defense."
"Always, Senpai," Mash said.
"I'll protect my Caesar with my life!" Nero declared.
And so, my army took shape. Ten Servants, plus Mash and Nero, plus the allies already in Uruk. It wasn't enough to defeat Tiamat. But it was enough to buy time. Time to find a solution. Time for a miracle to happen.
As my Servants dispersed to their posts, I stayed alone in the courtyard for a moment. The Mesopotamian sun was at its zenith, and the heat was suffocating. In the distance, Tiamat's shadow kept advancing.
"You're at your limit," Tezcatlipoca said.
"I know."
"But you won't stop."
"No."
"Good."
I smiled. My Persona knew me too well.
The battle for Uruk had just begun. And I, Leonel Herrera, the last Master of humanity, had no intention of giving up without a fight.