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Chapter Text

A cold and desolate landscape yet still covered in flames. Lying within this apocalyptic wasteland lies the last hope for humanity, for in less than a second, the global population had decreased from seven billion to less than a hundred.
Shielded from the planet’s incineration, is a sleek, almost futuristic building so white that it blends in within the snow of the mountains that surrounded it.

In the white halls of CHALDEA, a young lady walks with an air of unparalleled dignity. She wears armour that is both elegant and unyielding, silver plates catching the light as she moves with practiced ease. The deep blue fabric beneath, lined with gold, softened the harsh edges of steel, a reminder that she was more than just a warrior, but a king.
Every piece was crafted for both protection and agility—broad pauldrons guarding her shoulders, gauntlets fitting snugly over her hands, and the plated skirt shifting fluidly with each step. She carried the weight of it effortlessly, as if it were simply a second skin, forged not just from metal, but from purpose.

She is Artoria Pendragon, Britain’s Greatest King, Wielder of the Holy Sword Excalibur, and King of Knights, summoned to help save humanity’s present and future from its doom. She is one of the many Heroic Spirits summoned from the Throne of Heroes at the request of the last Master, Gudao Fujimaru.

Artoria found the young boy to be an interesting Master. He was unlike most Magi, who saw Servants as simply powerful familiars or tools. Gudao treated the King like an equal, a friend. She appreciated the kindness, truly. Especially since CHALDEA allowed for Servants to access all their memories, even those from previous summonings. Though she wasn’t a true Servant in those summonings, her memories of her previous grail wars were cloudy. But now she had clarity, she doubted she would be able to tolerate another Kiritsugu Emiya as a Master. Of course, it didn’t help that thanks to her regained memories, she also remembered that boy.

His flamelike hair, his amber eyes, his wide back that he’d shove in front her like shield despite her warnings, and the determination in his voice every time he spoke of his dream. He was a foolish Master, but maybe that was the perfect option for a foolish servant like herself.

Perhaps that is why, for the first time since she pulled out the Sword of Selection, that she fell in love. True love. Shirou Emiya was many things, but of all of them, he was her hero. He broke her out of the chains of her selfish desire. He was the one showed what it was to feel romantic love. For once, she didn’t feel like King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot. For once, she felt like Artoria, a girl who finally felt love.

As parts of Artoria begin to glow gold and dissipate in the wind like dust, she tells her red-haired Master one last thing, “Shirou, I love you.” She has a smile on her face. It is one of joy and sadness, for she has proclaimed her feelings to the she loves, and because she will most likely never see him again.

“ARTORIA!” Her master shouts, much to her surprise. There is that familiar look of determination on his face. That always seemed to tell her that everything would be okay. “I promise, I’ll find you! Even if it takes me a thousand years! No matter what! When we next meet, I will be a Hero of Justice that you can proudly love!”

Artoria Pendragon couldn’t help but smile with tears in coming down from her eyes as she returns to where her life ended.

For the first time in her life, Artoria’s mind was not thinking of restoring her kingdom, but of meeting her one true love in Avalon.

And yet that thought would never come to be, for despite severing her contract with Alaya, despite waiting in Avalon, despite looking into the horizon for centuries, hoping to see her lover to appear one day, that day never came.

When she heard Gudao’s call through the Throne of Heroes, she hesitantly accepted, and as she felt herself being transported to CHALDEA, she gave one last look to that horizon, and felt her immense sadness deepen for she didn’t see that burning red hair appearing.

During the Fifth Holy Grail War, Artoria had given up her desire to revive her kingdom, to restore her people and fix her countless mistakes that she had made during her rule. But it was in CHALDEA, where she learned the true error of her wish. Was it the constant mockery from Iskandar from the moment she had been summon? Perhaps it was when she finally came to tentative understanding with Mordred, even if it almost caused two powerful Noble Phantasms being used in the middle of the CHALDEA? Or maybe, it was when she sat down one day and realised that there was no point in changing the past. That there was no heroism in undoing her mistakes, and that she would not being doing such an act for her people or knights, but only for herself, for in life the only role she knew was being a living martyr who sacrificed little parts of herself as each day of her rule passed.

But, even if she gave up that selfish desire, what did that leave her with? Whilst she enjoyed the company of servants, she made friends with, like Siegfried, Benkei, or her knights, there was always something missing. It was as if she yearned for something that she had long since missed.

Artoria stops walking for a second and looks out at one of the few windows in the facility. Past the snow landscape that was within Chaldea’s shields, Artoria saw the flames that had consumed mankind. She wondered, what was Shirou doing when humanity died? He should be about 28 now. Had he forgotten her, and treated the Grail War like horrible memory? Perhaps he fell in love with another, and started his own family? Or maybe, just maybe, he was still searching for her, for some way to get into Avalon.

The last thought triggered a guilty feeling within her. What if he was there right now, having suffered and toiled through countless trials to reach her, only to find his goal to be empty, devoid of his lover.

“Oi! Saber! Are you coming or what?” Artoria looks away from the window and sees Ireland’s Child of Light waving at her with an annoyed expression. Despite how many times she insisted him to call her Artoria, Cú Chulainn still referred to her by class. According to him, his memories of the Holy Grail War they shared made it feel odd to call Artoria by her true name. “Get a move on! At this rate, Master will have already summoned the new servant before you even reach the summoning room!”

“Fear not, Cú Chulainn,” She responds calmly, much to the wild Lancer’s chagrin, “I shall be there in time; however, it will be best if you march ahead instead of waiting for me.” The Hound scoffs and walks away like she suggested. She also walks, pushing the thought of her unattainable love out of her mind. Artoria wonders who her Master will summon this time. The last servant he summoned was Ishtar, a Sumerian Goddess of Fertility brought in as a Pseudo Servant with the body of Rin Tohsaka. It had taken Artoria a little time to getting used to the idea, but she stopped calling the Goddess by her body’s name once she realised that unlike Zhuge Liang, the goddess would not relinquish control to her host. It had saddened her, but she accepted it regardless.

The King of Knights finally reaches the Summoning Room, a large space with a simple summoning circle in the middle. In front of the circle was her Master, along with the Demi-Servant Mash Kyrielight, Cú Chulainn, and several other servants hidden in their Spirit Forms, ready to protect Gudao in case the summoned servant turned hostile. It was much a needed protection, especially since the appearance of Caligula who nearly punched Gudao’s head off his shoulders in a fit rage upon summoning. The Roman Emperor had thankfully calmed down and remained sedentary since the incident, but extra caution was taken upon future summonings.

It was clear that she had appeared right on time, as Gudao had just about finished chanting the necessary words for the ritual, “Come forth, pass on your judgement, and punish my enemies... Guardian of the Scales!”

A pillar of light bursts from the ground at the moment Gudao says the last word, and for a moment, just a moment, Artoria could swear she saw a glimpse of a wasteland within the light. A wasteland littered with swords. But quickly enough, the light vanishes and the newest addition to CHALDEA is revealed.

The servant is a tall figure, his silver hair is slicked back, his skin is tanned like colour of bronze, and his eyes… His eyes are cold and grey, like a weathered sword that has seen countless battles. He wears a crimson red coat that he dons over his black chest plate.
Artoria couldn’t help but feel that the servant was familiar in many ways. Yes, she instantly recognised that this man was the Archer Class servant summoned in Fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail War, summoned by Rin Tohsaka. But moreover, there was something about the look in his eyes that she never noticed during her previous meetings with him. It reminded Artoria of herself, upon a hill of corpses during the Battle of Camlan where she fought Mordred. But the regret in Archer’s eyes is so much more encompassing. Artoria regretted some her actions and her behaviour, sure. But Archer? He looked as if he regretted his entire life.

Archer spoke, his voice deep and full of gravitas, yet lacking any real emotion, “Archer-class Servant. I have been summoned and come at your request.” He looks analytically at his new master and makes quick glances around the room. It was clear that he had detected all the hidden servants barring those with a strong Presence Concealment skill.

Gudao was visibly a little intimidated by Archer, but quickly he centred himself, and gave the servant the typical greeting he gave to all newcomers to CHALDEA. “Ah, hello!” The Master welcomed with a genuine smile on his face, “I’m Gudao Fujimaru, and this is Mash Kyrielight. Welcome to CHALDEA, Mr…?” It was clear that Gudao was fishing for the Archer’s True Name, with far less subtlety than Artoria had in her pinkie, though that most certainly wasn’t saying much.

“Ha! Master, don’t bother trying to get answer out of this bastard.” Cú Chulainn grumbled, “He figured out my name in a couple of minutes, but he never bothered telling me his during the entire war!” As much as Artoria wanted to come to Archer’s defence, she had to admit that his secrecy was indeed annoying throughout the war, however the fact remained that the servant took out seven of Heracles’s lives by his lonesome. That feat was more than enough to cement the idea that he was a strong ally to have your back in battle.

“Unfortunately, Master,” Archer begins, decidedly ignoring the Hound of Ulster much to the annoyance of the servant, “due to the nature of my summoning, I have lost memories of my identity. But fear not, for my combat prowess remains the same.”

However, it was Artoria’s time to comment on CHALDEA’s newest addition, “Going with that excuse once more, Archer? For your own sake, try not lie like that in front of Kiyohime”
The nameless servant looks towards Artoria, and for a moment, she sees a faint look of recognition in his eyes. No, not recognition. Longing. Yearning. Affection. But faster than light itself, those emotions disappear, replaced by that emotionless look of a dead man.

The Archer’s face warps into his signature smirk, and he counters Artoria’s jab at him, “Ah, so you’re here as well, Saber? I hope this Master isn’t as much of fool as your last one.” Though anger and annoyance filled her inside, Artoria kept up her wall of indifference.
“Hey you two, let’s not fight, okay?” Gudao pleads desperately, “We don’t want another Gilgamesh incident, do we?” The incident the Master was referring to nearly caused a massive hole in CHALDEA that damaged energy output in the facility for a while. Turns out that the King of Heroes had made an enemy out of a lot of Servants. “Anyway, Archer if you could follow me-” But as soon as Gudao turned to look at Archer, the Crimson Bowman had disappeared, “Uh, where did he go?”

“The bastard must’ve turned to his spirit form and gone off on his own” Cú scoffs with an eye roll, “I think he enjoys acting all broody and mysterious.”
Artoria can’t help but agree with the Lancer, “Yes, he always was a little antisocial. He seemed to prefer his own company rather than being around our masters and I.” However, as she said that, she remembered an expression the Archer had made when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was one of yearning, of having seen something he had once lost. At the thought of the memory, she decides to also defend that pitiful man, “However, he is not unkind. He sacrificed his life to stop the Berserker of the war from killing us, and if I remember correctly, he took out seven of the Berserkers’ lives. So be assured that he will be a competent ally.”
“Thanks, Artoria” Gudao nods, before talking to Dr Romani Archaman on his communicator.

As humanity’s last master talks to the acting director, Artoria could only think about the nameless Archer. Why did he seem so familiar in a way that made her heart hurt? He is simply another servant that she fought before, like Cú Chulainn or Heracles. But she felt as if there was something missing when it came to Archer. Confused and annoyed, Artoria walks out of the room, absentmindedly wandering to wherever her legs took her.

The King’s mind drifted away to her thoughts of that fateful war in Fuyuki. Though her and Archer hadn’t interacted much due to his insistence, there had been a single conversation they had shared in that. A real conversation.

It was late into the night, Artoria’s Master had fallen asleep, and so too had Rin Tohsaka after unpacking her bags. The Saber Servant was uncomfortable for an enemy Servant and Master to be staying in the same roof, especially because of her unfortunate situation which required her to sleep and eat, meaning she wouldn’t be able to guard her Master should to Archer attack him in his sleep.

Saber looked at the time on the wall clock and decided that she had enough time to get a snack before she went to sleep. She walks through the house, slowly remembering every detail that had not changed since the Fourth Holy Grail War that she had also fought in.

When she arrives to the living room, Artoria was surprised to see the Servant Archer standing in the kitchen. On his face was a wistful expression that was almost unnatural. Saber did not move as she watched the scene. It’s like looking at a painting. The way the moon reflected off his silver hair, those tired eyes that were normally stern, and the way he slouched ever slightly like he was in an environment where he could finally let down his guard. The scene seemed too personal for her to intrude on, it somewhat reminded her of when she would go to her old hometown from where she lived before pulling out Caliburn. But why did the Archer have such feelings towards her Master’s kitchen?

The crimson bowman looks up and even looks embarrassed as he notices Artoria standing there, simply watching him. “Ah, Saber. Why exactly are up right now? The less sleep you get, the less mana you will have in the morning, which makes you a liability on the field.” Artoria couldn’t find it in her to be annoyed at the archer. Perhaps next time he decided to be snarky ruffian, she probably would, but this time, Artoria couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable the opposing Servant had looked.

“Apologies Archer,” She apologises, walking towards the kitchen, “I decided to acquire what the people of the modern day call a ‘Midnight Snack.’ Fear not, I will be quick in this task.” Perhaps she could make what her Master would call a ‘BLT.’ Truly, the quality of food had grown exponentially over the last millennia.

Archer nods, “Very well.” But he doesn’t say another word as Artoria grabs a piece of bread from a bread pan. He watches as she grabs a few slices of bacon from the fridge and tears some leaves off a ball of lettuce. He then despairs as she slaps them together and begins to edge the monstrosity towards her mouth. “Saber, what in hell are you doing?”

Artoria stops her actions and looks to Archer, “Is there a problem, Archer?”
“Absolutely. Saber, why are you eating uncooked bacon?”
“Uncooked? Are you sure it is? I know its colouration is odd, but it is normal for war rations to look a little strange.” There is pause between the servants, and Artoria feels as if she perhaps admitted something embarrassing.

Archer sighs, before walking back into the kitchen. “Put down that sorry excuse for sandwich and take a seat Saber. I will make you something that can be considered more than merely edible.” Saber can’t help but acquiesce at the sheer confidence in his voice. The moment he steps into the kitchen, it is like he has become a king of his own kingdom, and Saber was not one to depose a king.

She takes a seat and watches as Archer turns on the stove and grabs a pan from a cabinet. Saber wonders how he knew where the cooking utensils were, but chalked it up to either a skill, or he had already searched the kitchen before she entered the living room.
As he pours oil onto the pan, he asks Artoria a question, “Saber, tell me something. What does it mean to be a hero? A title? A responsibility? Or something more?”
Artoria was surprised at the question. She honestly didn’t think someone as bitter as Archer would be interested in something like heroism. Nor did she expect him to hold such a question in importance, judging from the expression on his face. “An odd question, Archer. What brought this on?” But her question is answered with silence, so she sighs and continues, “To be a hero is neither of the options you gave, for they trivialise the concept of heroism. To be a hero is a goal you never achieve but always try to strive towards. I have met many who claim to be a hero, but none have even come close to meeting the ideal. Through countless battles, I have seen those who actually do embody what it means to be a hero both rise and fall, yet I do not believe I myself could ever be considered a hero.”
Archer’s eyebrows rise in mild surprise as he places a slice of bread on the same pan as the sizzling bacon. “You do not consider yourself a hero? Surely a knight like yourself is more deserving of being called one than anyone else.”

When did she mention to Archer that she was knight? Ah, it probably an obvious conclusion from the way her armour looks and the way she carries herself. “I suppose one who isn’t a knight wouldn’t understand, but I did not fight those battles out of justice, but of responsibility. I fought for the people, whether our assault is in the wrong or in the right, my actions were in the name of my kingdom.”

There is a long silence between the two, and Artoria wonders if she had offended the Archer, though that notion disappears when he laughs with slight tinge of madness, “Hahaha! If only I had heard that when I was younger.” Artoria is a little taken aback, for this was the most emotion she had seen from Archer since she had met him. It was almost pitiable. “One last question, Saber.” He says, taking a head of lettuce from the fridge, “Have you ever fallen in love?”
Once more, Artoria was shocked by the question but retained a calm demeanour. The Once and Future King thinks back to her life. She remembered her wife, Guinevere, who married Artoria out of duty, not love. But still, for the longest time Guinevere was Artoria’s greatest confidant, second to perhaps Merlin or Lancelot. Artoria had thought that what she had with Guinevere was the same as any husband-and-wife relationship, but with time, she realised that Guinevere was more like a sister to her. It was why she forgave Guinevere for her affair with Lancelot. She had hoped that the two would have happy lives. If only Lancelot hadn’t been rash and foolish.

Artoria noticed that Archer had been patiently waiting for her to answer, and decided to reward that patience, “No, Archer. I have never known romantic love. How about you?”
There is a small smile on Archer’s face, perhaps mournful or regretful, “Yes. An exceedingly long time ago.”
“She must’ve been quite a woman” Artoria notes. She sees a minute change in Archer’s eyes. They didn’t seem to be the eyes of indifference, which reminded her of dull steel. Instead, they were more like a sharpened blade, full of fervour and power. But that lasted only for a second. Archer was definitely well-versed in keeping up a wall.

“She was… everything”.

Suddenly, the Servant places a plate in front of Saber. A sandwich. Perfectly cooked bacon, roasted tomato, shredded lettuce, and a basil sauce along with mayonnaise, all encased within the greatest pan grilled bread Artoria had ever seen. Without another word, Artoria grabs the BLT and shoves it in her mouth with the elegance of a King (or so she would claim). In all her existence, she had never tasted such a fine meal. Not even Avalon had food on par with what she had just consumed.
Before the King of Knights could demand for more, by the time she looked up, the Archer had disappeared and all the utensils he used had been cleaned.

She sighed. It seemed that this Archer would continue to remain a mystery.

As the memory of the Grail War that she had long since forgotten resurged to her mind, Saber frowns. She remembers that the next morning she had essentially forgotten that conversation, not out of malice or disinterest, but instead because Taiga and Sakura had arrived, and Shirou’s delicious breakfast distracted her from how good Archer’s BLT tasted. She had never thought that a Servant could cook so well. No offence to Boudica, but the food from the cafeteria simply couldn’t match Shirou’s artistry.

But now that the memory came back to her attention, she wondered why the Nameless Archer hadn’t said anything more after that. Why had he asked her those specific questions? And in deeper section of her mind, Artoria wondered who exactly was it that captured such a cold man’s heart. Frankly, she was genuinely surprised that he even had the capacity to love.

Artoria snaps out of her thoughts as she crashes into something- no, someone. “Ah, my apologies. I was lost in my thoughts.” She apologises. When she looks up, she resists the urge to say the modern phrase, ‘Speak of the Devil’ as she sees the nameless Archer looking down at her with an eyebrow raised, blatantly judging her.

He reaches his hand out, an action some could mistake for kindness were it not for the smirk on his face. Regardless, Artoria took his hand merely out of respect for his manners, and kept her still expression as the Archer snarked, “And what were you thinking about, Oh King of Knights? Fallen Kingdoms? Traitorous Knights? Foolish Masters?”
For once, Artoria’s mask of indifference cracks as she retaliates in annoyance, “For goodness’ sake, what is your problem with Shirou? What did he do to you for you to hate and mock him with such fervour?! Why is the one of the most noble of people I’ve ever met a target of your jeering?” Once Artoria had finished her outburst, the King realised that she had fallen into the Archer’s trap. To get her to lose composure. It was something she very rarely did, yet in less than fifteen minutes after his summoning, the steel-eyed man had done it with ease.
Yet, she wasn’t met with further mockery, or another sneer. Instead, the nameless Archer’s normally cold look seemed to be a miniscule amount warmer, and the corners of his mouth raised barely an inch, forming a very, very, familiar smile that Artoria couldn’t seem to place where she remembered it from.

Wordlessly, the man turned around and walked away. To Artoria, even his back looked familiar in a way that more than when her mind goes to other servants involved in the war. She wonders to herself, will the man’s name and past ever be revealed whilst they save humankind? Or will it remain as a mystery even now?

Just who is Archer, and why does he look at her with such yearning?

Chapter Text

A few days have passed since the summoning of the enigmatic servant. Just as his first impressions suggested, Archer was reclusive and antisocial. The few times he did interact with others; he was snarky or outright mocking. It wasn’t from a place of real hate (unless it was directed at Cú Chulainn) as anyone could see. He simply wanted to be alone.

So, an event occurred which surprised Artoria that began when Mordred ran up to her with an excited grin upon her face, “Father! Come to the cafeteria! Master needs you there! There-” However, before the Knight of Rebellion could finish her sentence, Artoria made a mad dash to the cafeteria. It was her very instinct as a knight to come to her Master’s aid, for how else can she call herself the King of Knights if her lord dies.
Yet, when she reaches the cafeteria, she does not find a battle or impending doom upon the last remnants of humanity. Instead, she finds a majority of CHALDEA’s servants huddled and cheering like they were watching a gladiator match. At the centre of attention was the mysterious Archer servant, and the Berserker known as Tamamo Cat. The latter is dressed in a maid uniform, staring angrily at the Archer, whilst the bowman wears a nonchalant expression. In the middle of them is Gudao, trying to mediate whatever argument had come between them, or rather trying to placate Tamamo Cat from causing a fight in the middle of CHALDEA.

And quickly enough, Mordred arrives a little annoyed at having been cut off, “As I was saying father,” The Knight continues through gritted teeth. Normally she’d have blown up at any other servant, but the one before her was her King, “Nameless there was using the kitchen, not knowing that Tamamo Cat claimed it a while ago.” Artoria scrunched her nose at the memory. Tamamo’s canine nature had taken over and declared the kitchen as her territory in the more… natural method. It was very disturbing.

“You call him Nameless?” Artoria asks her son, an eyebrow raised.
Mordred shrugs, “Nero came up with it or something. Anyway, despite Tamamo repeatedly trying to threaten Nameless into leaving, he just looks at her and rolls his eyes! Then he just continues cooking. I’d say it was badass if it weren’t for Tamamo looking ready to reclaim her kitchen in the worst place possible. So, Zhuge Liang came in and suggested a battle.”

Artoria looks at Mordred with surprise. She hadn’t interacted much with the Pseudo-Servant, but from what she remembers, Waver Velvet was quite a meek boy. For him to get in between two powerful Servants was quite a shock. “A battle? So why call me here, and not to the training halls?”
Mordred frowns, “Because a normal fight would be too cool. Nah, instead that long haired bastard told them to do a food battle! Whoever creates the best dish gets full control over the kitchen and gets to dictate which person is allowed to enter and cook within the kitchen.”
“What about Lady Boudica?”
“What about her? She’s cool with both of them. She doesn’t have a stake in this.”

“I see. So, what exactly is my purpose in this?”
“Well, they need a judge who can be fair and unbiased, so who else would they pick apart from you?”

“Arash? Karna? One of the Hassan’s?” The King of Knights lists off, thinking to any Servant she could see being good or better alternatives than herself.
“Oh, uh maybe, but your name was one of the first to be suggested as a judge, father.” Artoria’s eyes meet Mordred’s, as the latter’s try their best to look anywhere else.

“Sir Bedivere recommended me, didn’t he?”
“…Yes, father”
Artoria sighs, “Very well, let’s get this farce over and done with.”

The two Saber class servants walk into the cafeteria, as Humanity’s Last Master sighs in relief, “Oh thank god Artoria, you’re here!” He then turns to Tamamo Cat, “Ok then Tamamo, we can settle this quickly, now.”
The Berserker lightly growls, thought it was obvious that the anger wasn’t towards her master, “I don’t think there’s anything to settle here, woof. The kitchen is mine.” Artoria resists the urge to sigh once more. She always hated dealing with Berserker class servants. Especially those that could talk. Somehow having the ability to speak made them even more of an annoyance.
“You’re a servant, Cat.” Nameless groans, rolling his eyes. He had been at this for a mere fifteen minutes, and already he was tired of dealing with the Berserker, “You don’t own anything apart from the clothes on your back.”

“Come on, you guys! We agreed to have a cook off.” Gudao once more pleads. Artoria can’t help but pity the boy. She too has had to deal with rude and insubordinate knights during her rule (AKA Mordred), but she was able to calm them down with either charisma or sheer dominance in strength. Gudao had none of that. It was miracle that Ishtar and Gilgamesh even listened to his orders most of the time.

“Indeed.” Artoria interjects, as all eyes go to her. She turns towards Tamamo Cat, “Whilst you may have asserted control over the kitchens, any servant has their right to acquire that space for themselves. It is only fair, and as such I shall be a fair judge in this battle of culinary skills, so long as the both of you are fine with me as the judge.” She wondered if she truly had the rapport of someone who could be relied upon within CHALDEA, or whether nobody wanted to deal with Bedivere should someone say something that he believes is an insult to his King.

“As much as I believe this would be needless if our Master actually used his authority, I trust in Saber’s ability to remain unbiased.” Nameless says, his cold demeanour causing shivers run down Gudao’s spine. It was a little entertaining to see how the Master and Servant interacted. The teenager could talk to a Berserker just fine, but a minute with Nameless made the boy quiver.

“I suppose I can trust Tory-chan, woof.” Tamamo Cat grumbles. The ‘Tory-chan’ in question shoots a look at her knights to pre-emptively stop them from shouting at the Berserker for using such an informal nickname for the King. Though she’d never admit it, Artoria quite liked being referenced so casually. Perhaps it was due to the American movies that Gudao would let the Servants watch during designated movie nights, but the nickname made her feel like a normal person for once, instead of the most noble of the Pendragons.

“Perfect.” Zhuge Liang finally speaks up. Taking a good look at him, Artoria saw the stark difference between the Pseudo-Servant and Waver Velvet. The once meek boy who hid behind Iskandar’s cape had turned into Lord El Melloi II, a Lord of the Clocktower. It was fascinating how a decade or two could change a person. Artoria quietly wonders if Shirou had changed just as much in his life. “Very well, now that the judge has been agreed upon, I shall now dictate the rules of this food war-”

“Why did you phrase it like that, Lord El Melloi?” Gudao asks, though something told Artoria that the question was definitely not innocent considering the Master’s uncharacteristic smirk.

As for the Chinese/English tactician, his cheeks lightly flushed in embarrassment. Perhaps it was some sort of inside joke that she hadn’t understood. Even Nameless was smiling at Waver Velvet. She knew that she wasn’t quite informed or talented in the art of humour, but how did Nameless of all people get a joke that she didn’t? Could it be a subject only men understood? No… Artoria had spent much time pretending to be a man. She believed that she had a good understanding of the male experience. So therefore, there must be some unknown commonality between Gudao, Waver, and Nameless. But what could it possibly be?

“As I was saying,” El Melloi continues, blatantly ignoring his master, “The rules are as follows. You will both have 1 hour to complete your dish. It must be a main dish containing at least 500 calories. No magecraft or Noble Phantasm can be utilised in the dish’s creation. You will both use CHALDEA’s cooking facility simultaneously, and any arguments started during the competition will be faced with consequences. However, before you even enter the kitchen, you will enter separate changing rooms where you will remove the clothes you are currently outfitted with and wear clothes that will soon be provided to you by Queen Boudica. Don’t think I can’t detect those enchantments on that shroud of yours, Nameless.
Now, if we all agree with the set terms, then I believe it is time for you two to get going.” However, the Caster servant looks to his master, the latter nodding in confirmation. Of course, El Melloi didn’t really need Gudao’s acceptance, but he wanted the young Master to be more used to the idea of being a commanding figure to the servants rather than the summoner who happens to hang around the heroic spirits.

Fifteen minutes pass by after the two servants change into different clothes, though the Berserker was quite upset that she didn’t get to wear her own cooking apron, she didn’t complain much after seeing the adorable dog patterns on her pink apron. Artoria didn’t know how Waver Velvet acquired such a garment, but she couldn’t help but let her mind blame the inventor, Leonardo Da Vinci. Underneath the apron, Tamamo Cat wore a short-sleeved pink shirt, which annoyed her greatly since she was usually nude beneath her normal apron. However, El Melloi insisted on the grounds of ‘less chance of bacteria spreading,’ though the King of Knights was quite sure that he was simply uncomfortable with how much skin Tamamo Cat usually showed.

As for Nameless, he had traded his crimson shroud for a pink apron covered in hearts. If this bothers the Archer, then he certainly doesn’t let it show on his face, as he kept his stern expression whilst dicing some onions. He performed with such skill that Artoria wondered if his noble phantasm was based on cooking. Perhaps those two black and white blades he wielded were meant for slicing venison than servants.

The Saber servant watches Archer more often than she does at Tamamo. There was always a nagging feeling whenever she looked at him. What was with that steely expression that made her heart pain so much?

“Oh my…” A shiver runs down Artoria’s spine as she turns around to see Marie Antoinette, the Last Queen of France, appearing behind her with what can only be described as a ‘shit-eating grin’. Artoria wonder how she had offended God today. “Why, Artoria, has the Nameless Archer caught your eye? Is love in the air?” Artoria resisted the urge to scowl, for she knew it was Marie’s nature to be drawn to the concept of love. The Queen liked to fancy herself as a matchmaker of sorts. Were it not for Mozart, she would’ve nearly tried to set Penthesilea and Achilles on a blind date. Artoria feared what would happen to CHALDEA if that were to ever happen.

“Queen Marie, please do not misunderstand. I am merely trying to discern his true identity.” Artoria states, hoping she does not become the Queen’s next target.
“Artoria! Have I not insisted that you call me Marie?” She questioned, almost offended before a teasing smile appears on her face, “Now I finally understand why no man or woman in CHALDEA has caught your interest. It is the mysterious men who are your type, no? Tall, dark, and very handsome. I must say Artoria, you have quite an exquisite taste!”
The King of Knights lightly blushes in embarrassment. It was true that no other servant had interested her romantically or sexually. Of course, she acknowledged whether someone was attractive or not, but she simply wasn’t interested in them. They always seemed… lesser than the only one she had ever love. They simple weren’t Shirou Emiya.
Still, she took the moment to have a closer look at the Nameless Archer. He certainly was quite handsome.
Now that he had rolled his sleeves up, Artoria got a look at his arms. If she had to describe them in one word it would be ‘Strong’, for they weren’t bulging canons like Heracles, but they were a clear sign that they were in pristine condition. And the way his hands held the cutting knife with such a firm grip made Artoria wonder what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms, and his hands on her-
“What am I thinking?!” She mentally shouts at herself as she snaps from the fantasy that had seemingly come out of nowhere. “Why would I think of such things about that Archer of all people!?” Surely her love for Shirou Emiya had not wavered throughout these centuries. Right?
“Oh my, Artoria. What a cute blush you have. I wonder what could’ve caused it?” Marie says quietly into Artoria’s ear, “Perhaps the thought of Nameless, breathing down your neck? Perhaps one of his hands on the back of your head as he pulls your mouth closer to his lips? Or maybe-”
“That is enough, Marie” Artoria interrupts with a cool tone, despite her subtly blushed cheeks, as she shoots a glare at the Queen of France, “Whilst I do appreciate your concern for my love life, I do not wish for your involvement in it. And right now, I am performing the role of judgement in this contest. Please let me focus.”
“Very well, Artoria,” Marie continues grinning, unperturbed, “But remember, beneath that armour of yours, exists a heart that wishes to love.” And before the Saber-Class Servant can respond, Marie Antoinnette disappears from sight, hiding within a crowd of servants, leaving Artoria to her thoughts of love.

Why did this Archer draw her in so much? How does he plague her attention with ease? Her heart is dedicated to Shirou Emiya. He is the one who she longs for. Who she will wait for in Avalon once more when this Grand Order is over. He is the hero who showed her what it was like to truly live. Yet, her heart dares to betray this love.
Did she even feel love for Archer? Or is it simple sexual attraction? If not the second, then why did she have such thoughts at a mere glance at his arms.
It couldn’t be love, after all. Her love is for Shirou, and that man was the complete opposite of Shirou. The one she loved lived with no regrets and only held determination within his eyes as walked on the path of a Hero of Justice. But this Archer? He held nothing but contempt for the idea of hero. Artoria remembered how much he mocked Shirou for his dream. And moreover, Nameless is a creature of regret. Anyone could tell that from looking at him. Whatever he went through in life had turned him into a bitter man that could only regret and hate. Artoria wouldn’t be surprised if he was able to be summoned as Berserker or Avenger class Servant.

However, her train of thought finishes as a plate of food is slammed in front of her. A delicate aroma fills the air as she looks at the food placed on the table. To less cultured fellow, one would assume that it was a yellow blob, but Artoria knew that Tamamo Cat had served her a Japanese dish known as ‘Omurice’. It consisted of fried rice with a selection of vegetables within, all covered by a smooth egg omelette. And as expected of the Berserker, there was an addition which created a little silliness in the meal. On top of the omelette, written in ketchup is ‘UR SOOPER COOT SABUR!’. Artoria isn’t sure if this was a result of the Madness Enhancement, or if Tamamo Cat didn’t know how to spell words properly.

“Tamamo Cat!” Sir Bedivere shouts, incredulous and offended on his King’s behalf, his silver hand clutched in fury, “Do you truly think that my King would be swayed by mere flattery, no matter how true it is?!” Artoria resists the urge to sigh once more. The Shining Airgetlám is a trusted confidant, but he can be so embarrassing sometimes.

“Enough, Sir Bedivere.” Artoria commands, though not unkindly. Her knight nods sheepishly, as she picks up a spoon. “I suppose I shall taste Tamamo Cat’s meal first.” She quickly glances to Nameless. He had clearly finished his cooking, but instead watching Artoria’s reaction to his opponent’s dish, he opts to wash his cooking utensils. The Saber Servant is unsure on whether to be impressed with his confidence or appalled at his arrogance. Well, only a taste would tell which emotion to feel.
With the spoon she separates a part of the omurice, which splits apart like butter. It fits upon the spoon perfectly.
Artoria puts the omurice in her mouth, placing the spoon back on the plate. She can taste the fluffy omelette complimenting the rice. The tang of the ketchup helps bring out all the hidden herbs that Tamamo had used. The freshness of the vegetables that increased the quality of the dish. Overall, it was quite a good dish. But… it was nothing compared to the meals prepared by the greatest cook she had ever met. “You did well, Tamamo. It’s a surprisingly refined dish.” Artoria compliments. The Berserker gives a smug grin at the nonchalant Archer.

Artoria respectfully pushes the plate of omurice to the side, making room for the mystery dish of Nameless. She wondered what it could be. Something from his homeland? Though she wasn’t even sure where his homeland was. His skin pointed towards the Middle East, but his facial features pointed to East Asia. Perhaps he was of a mixed heritage? Regardless, the Saber had no clue as to what he would bring.

So, she was pleasantly surprised to see him gently place a bowl of a Japanese meal known as Katsu Curry. Fluffy white rice that looked like clouds, a golden curry full of chopped carrots and potatoes, and finally the star of the dish, a breaded chicken cutlet evenly sliced to reveal its juicy insides. It took all of Artoria’s etiquette-training to resist the urge to drool, or worse, shove the meal right into her mouth with her bare hands.

“Damn. That looks really fucking good. Smells good too.” Cú Chulainn mutters, forgetting who exactly he was complimenting. The sentiment was shared with many other servants, all of whom felt deep jealousy for the position Artoria was currently in.

However, the King of Knights could not care less about their desire, for her own hunger took over. For her entire time in CHALDEA, she had chained away her gluttony, her insatiable desire for food. She used all willpower to not ask for seconds during each meal and kept the mask of a calm and noble king, especially when her knights were summoned, yet it felt like that hidden side of hers was about come out any moment.

She skilfully uses a spoon to acquire a portion of the meal, with a proportionate amount of rice, chicken, and curry. The moment the spoon passes her lips, she feels as if she had consumed the nectar of the gods. Artoria isn’t a culinary expert by any means, but every ingredient of the dish complimented each other so well that it was like someone had used Excalibur to blow her medieval farmers-girl tastebuds back to the Age of the Gods.

And then, without thinking and lacking any attempt at etiquette, she deploys the spoon once more to grab another bite. And another. And even more bites. No more was she the refined King who oversaw Camelot. Right now, she was the glutton that almost consumed her village’s food supplies whilst sleepwalking.

By the time Artoria came to her senses, she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness as she realised that the bowl was empty. Completely empty. To the point that one might assume there was no curry in it the first place. She looked around the area. Some servants were amused, others surprised, a few were in awe, Tamamo Cat looked betrayed for some reason, Cú Chulainn still looked jealous, Gudao was clearly trying to hide his amusement, Nameless was simply smiling, and her Knights of the Round Table looked mere moments away from having their image of her shattered into a million pieces.

Artoria knew she had to say something to them. Something to save face. But simply put, there are for more important things that keeping up appearances. She looks to Nameless, whose strangely warm smile had reverted back to a line. Hesitantly, she asks him, “Archer… You wouldn’t happen to have made seconds… or more, would you?” She could hear some of the gasps around the room, the loudest from her son Mordred.

A strange sound came from Archer. A chuckle. And it seems even he was shocked that he made such a sound. “Still a glutton, huh Saber?” He takes her empty plate and begins to walk to his section of the kitchen, “Don’t worry, I figured you’d ask. I’ll be back in a second.”

He knew? He knew of her secret that she kept hidden from even her knights. How? Could she have somehow met him during her life? But that should be impossible. There is no way she could forget someone so memorable. Although perhaps he had been keeping a closer eye on her than she thought during the Grail War. She did it a lot of Shirou’s cooking.
Speaking of her love’s cooking, she wouldn’t say Nameless’ cooking is better, but rather simply more experienced. Frankly, Archer’s and Shirou’s cooking styles carried similar flavours and textures. Even their rice had a similar taste. Archer simply had the upper hand by what she can only assume was decades of refinement of his base techniques. But even still, she could tell that Archer, and her love had the same skill level at one point in their life.
Unfortunately, Artoria wouldn’t learn where her trail of thought would lead as Archer places another plate in front of her.

As she digs in, Artoria ignores Mordred’s muttering of “So, this is the true face of my father, huh? A glutton.”

“Don’t act like you’re any better, Mordred.” Bedivere mutters in a weak defence of the King, “We all remember how much you feasted during the celebrations after the Battle of Mount Badon.”
“Screw you, Bedivere” The Knight of Rebellion retorts, though with little malice.

Chapter Text

It had been a few months since the Nameless Archer had arrived in CHALDEA. He had essentially become the king of the cafeteria, as he was the head chef in charge of creating meals. He didn’t particularly care for the power the role gave him. He cooked for the sake of cooking, something Tamamo Cat begrudgingly respected, especially since Archer allowed her to cook in the kitchen as well (Though it was more like he didn’t quite care for contest). Ever since he took on the role, the morale had skyrocketed against all odds. Especially for one Artoria Pendragon.

For some odd reason that perplexed everyone in CHALDEA, it was only the King of Knights who would get seconds, even thirds from Nameless. Anyone else (apart from his Master and CHALDEA’s staff) would be rebuked and criticized if they ever ask for such a boon. Frankly, the only other servant who would get special treatment from Archer was Cú Chulainn, who would instead get his portion halved ever since he asked for seconds. After that, no one asked Archer for such a thing apart from Artoria.

There were many theories as to why the King of Knights would receive preferential treatment from Archer, though Artoria had no clue such discussions were taken place behind her back.
Many theories had been suggested, but all had mostly been shot down. The first theory was that Nameless was smitten with Artoria, though nobody could particularly blame him. However, the theory was soundly rejected because even with Artoria, his demeanour was far too cold for a man in love, he didn’t even smile near the King, nor did he strike up conversation. If the Archer was trying to strike up a relationship, then he was certainly doing an awful job at it. It should be noted that the one who created this theory was Mary Antoinnette, and the main opposition against the idea was Mordred, who looked uncomfortable during the discussion.

Another theory (suggested by Tamamo Cat) was that Archer had bribed Artoria prior to the cooking contest. In exchange for declaring the winner, Archer would grant Artoria second helpings for the rest of their time in CHALDEA. However, this was quickly shot, especially by the Knights of the Round Table. How dare someone suggest that their King could be bribed so easily?! Moreover, Zhuge Liang’s suggestion for a food war was spontaneous and unexpected by both contestants. It was impossible for such an underhanded tactic to occur.

Many more theories were brought and rejected, some more ridiculous than others. The most outlandish of these suggested that Archer was Artoria’s secret son, something immediately shut down by Mordred with the threat of Clarent.

In the end, the leading theory was that Artoria reminded Nameless of someone in his past, and that fondness carried over to Artoria. It wasn’t impossible, since apparently a lot of women throughout history had similar faces to the King of Knights. Nero, Jeanne D’Arc, and even Okita Souji. Nameless could very well have known and cared for someone who looked like Artoria.

Though, Zhuge Liang found even this theory to be shaky at best.

Regardless, it seemed that even without his culinary skills, Nameless was still a worthy addition to CHALDEA. Though he lacked the sheer power that Gilgamesh had, he made up for it in versatility and a plethora of experience. He could come up with tactics mid-battle and his proficiency in numerous forms of battle made him one of Gudao’s most called upon Servants. But despite that, Humanity’s Last Master was still unable to pierce the wall Nameless had placed between himself and the rest of the world.

Unfortunately, the Archer’s combat skills and fighting style didn’t help in identifying him. He had the face of an East Asian, the skin of an Arabian, and access to Noble Phantasms throughout history. It should be impossible. At one moment he could deploy the shield of Ajax, and the next he could throw the Gae Bolg. Speaking of the spear, the owner of it had nearly blew a lid off after seeing his ‘archenemy’ (within CHALDEA at least) hold a replica of his signature weapon. Even when it was revealed that it was mere replica, the angered lancer kept moaning about his ‘stolen’ spear.

As fortunate as it was to have a Servant who had so much combat potential, it was quite annoying that it meant there was no way to discern the identity of Nameless.

And for some reason, to a few of the Heroic Spirits in CHALDEA, there was a nagging feeling that the Archer had something far more powerful than any of his projections hidden within his sleeve, yet he had not revealed it yet. Not even against one of the many demons of Solomon that they had faced.

It seemed that mystery and Nameless went hand in hand.

But unfortunately for the Crimson Archer, his secrets would soon pour out into the open.

It was a quiet afternoon in the kitchen. It usually was when Gudao Fujimaru went out into a singularity that this scenario happens. Staff were busy making sure that the Rayshifting equipment remained functional, whilst most Servants were in their personal rooms or in communal living rooms where they could see their Master through TV screens linked to Dr Romani Archaman’s console. The Servants would have a full view of their Master’s fights and tribulations. It was an idea by Da Vinci as to increase morale and also the Servants respect for Gudao. Recently, the system had some fine-tuning done to allow sound to also pass through.

Of course, some Servants didn’t bother watching. One such person being Nameless. Instead, he spent his time preparing ingredients for the next meal or reading a book.

At the moment, he was doing the latter, reading a history book, which wasn’t uncommon to see in the hands of any Servant apart from Berserkers. After all, every piece of historical and mythical knowledge helped on the battlefield.
However, as the Archer was about to turn the page, he hears someone yelling for him, so he turns his attention away from the book. There, yelling for him, is a child with long purple hair, wearing a similarly coloured dress, and holding a large stave. It always perturbed the Archer whenever he sees the Servant known as Medea Lily. To think that scornful woman was once a sweet little girl. Jason must’ve been quite the piece of work to have made her so monstrous in personality.

“Medea.” He says tonelessly, “What is it?” The younger servant quivers a little under his cold stare, but she answers anyway.
“S-Sorry, Mr Nameless, but you need to come watch the TV’s! It’s Master, he’s in danger.”  There is an expression of desperation on her face, and perhaps a tinge of fear. Whether the fear was towards the fact that Gudao may die, or towards Archer, well that is unknown. The Nameless Archer isn’t quite sure why she would fear him. Yes, he can come off as aloof, but surely, he isn’t that scary.

“Master is always in danger.” Archer scoffs. In all honesty, he doesn’t particularly respect his new Master. Sure, he can appreciate that he’s a teenager with the fate of the world burdening him, but fact of the matter was that Gudao was lacking in most aspects. He had little magical skill on his own, mostly relying on the Mystic Codes woven into his uniform, and his mana circuits were simply… average. The only thing the Master had going for him was that he was absurdly lucky, and Archer could admit, luck is a skill of its own. Perhaps he was being unfair. He was comparing the boy to Rin Tohsaka, a once in a generation Magus who could manipulate all five great elements and studied under the Wizard Marshal himself. Gudao was a kid who was thrown into a singularity a mere week after finding out that magic was real.

“H-Hey! Please don’t talk about Master like that!” Medea protests in defence of her Master. “And it’s serious this time! Medusa and Tristan had to be recalled from Singularity, and even Artoria is severely injured!” That piece of information finally got a sense of urgency within Archer. For a Servant to be recalled meant they were potentially on the verge of being killed, and for even Artoria, one of the strongest of the Saber Class, to be hurt meant that there was genuine threat to Gudao’s life.

But Archer’s mind was focused on the fact that Artoria had been injured. Something that bothered him greatly.

On its own, his body began to walk. There was a living room nearby the cafeteria thankfully, and he didn’t have to walk too far. Medea was lightly skipping behind him to catch up. Once he arrived at room, full of concerned Servants barring a few, he looks up to a large screen, where he sees his Master, clutching his arm as it bleeds. The boy is leaning against a large rock that spiked from the ground in the dark cavern he is in. He sees Saber breathing heavily, still holding her Excalibur despite how much damage she has sustained.
And opposing them is giant, hulking figure, almost as tall as a house. With dark grey skin, and blaring red eyes, Archer recognised the enemy Servant. The demigod who completed the 12 Great Labours, Heracles.

“I told you it was serious this time!” Medea berates in hushed whispers to Archer, and she begins to explain the situation, “The Director found abnormal readings from the Fuyuki Singularity. Turns out it was Heracles roaming around. It’s possible he’s been there the entire time even when Master first entered the Singularity. He’s a shadow Servant now and attacked Master immediately. He managed to defeat Medusa and Tristan really quickly, but they managed to take out two of his lives with their Noble Phantasms.” Archer nods, remembering God Hand, Heracles’s Noble Phantasm that let him revive 11 times.
A truly broken ability, which could only be overcome if the demigod is killed with A-Ranked Noble Phantasms 12 times. “I hate seeing him like this. He was a truly kind man, even if he could be a little scary.” Medea mutters, remembering her time with the Berserker on the Argo.

“Has Master used his Emergency Summons?” Archer asks with a grave tone and an analytical eye on the screen. The Emergency Summons ability was a Mystic Code woven into Gudao’s uniform that allowed him to summon any Servant from CHALDEA three times per Singularity. The servants wouldn’t stick around for long, but just enough for the battle.

Medea nods, “Yes. Both Hector and Jeanne D’Arc Alter. They each managed to take one life from Heracles. Master only has one Emergency Summon left.” Archer shakes his head in frustration. In total, 4 out of Heracles’s 12 lives had been destroyed, but that left 8 entire lives that Gudao had to find a way to kill. It could become 5 or 4 lives left if Saber were to use Excalibur’s power as it was strong enough to kill Heracles multiple times, but doing so would bring down the cavern upon Gudao. She would need an open battlefield to change the tide of the fight, “Who do you think Master will use his last Emergency Summon on?”

The answer was so obvious that Archer was able to answer almost immediately, “If Master is smart, then it’ll be Gilgamesh. His Enkidu chains were practically made for a Servant like Heracles, and he has more than enough Noble Phantasms in his Gates of Babylon to overpower Berserker.” The golden Archer in question was sitting on a couch by his lonesome, looking at the screen with disapproving glare. It annoyed Nameless that he and Gilgamesh shared an opinion for once.

Suddenly, Nameless quickly turns his head to the screen as he hears Gudao’s shouts through the speakers, “Emergency Summoning! Come to my side…”

‘Ah, so now Master will summon Gilgamesh, and everything will be back to normal. There was no need for me to leave the kitchen’ Nameless internally sighs as he turns around to leave for the kitchen.

“NAMELESS!”

The Servant in question turns around immediately, a little shocked. The Heroic Spirits in the room look to the Archer in surprise. It seems they too didn’t expect for the cold feeling Archer instead of the Legendary King of Uruk.

“Good luck, Nameless…” Medea Lily quietly says, making Archer sigh internally once more. Luck? Does the child not know that E-Rank Luck is practically the core of his identity. But he gets the sentiment.

As his body begins to vanish into sparkles, the Nameless Archer can only say one thing, “Good grief.”

Artoria breathes heavily as she wipes the blood coming down from a cut on her forehead. She hated that despite being a Servant, she still bled. It wasn’t as if she needed blood.

In front of her stood the towering figure of Heracles, wielding his giant club. He is just as intimidating as he was in the Fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail War. More beast than man, it was near frightening to see how quickly the Berserker had defeated Tristan and Medusa, even after getting killed twice by them. But still, she is the Once and Future King of Brittania. She shall not falter. She shall not quiver before the demigod.

The creature had eight lives left. She was sure she could destroy most of them with Excalibur, but that would risk the life of her Master. She would’ve advised him to run and let her bring down the cavern upon herself and Heracles, but the boy was too injured from Berserker’s initial surprise attack.

She had gotten a brief respite thanks to the Emergency Summonings of Hector and the Avenger Jeanne D’Arc. But they returned to CHALDEA quickly after using their Noble Phantasms as to conserve their Master energy so he could summon his last summon.

Artoria wondered who would be summoned, but she knew that the best choice would be Gilgamesh, as much as she’d hate to admit it, the King of Heroes was the perfect counter for Heracles. It would simply be an annoyance to hear the mockery from him after this battle.

Suddenly, her master shouts. She looks back quickly to see him place a palm over his chest, activating one of his uniform’s Mystic Codes. “Emergency Summoning! Come to my side… NAMELESS!.”

‘Yes, now Gilgamesh will come and-’ Artoria’s line of thought immediately ended as she realised what exactly her Master had said. ‘Did… Did Master just say Nameless?’

Suddenly appearing next to her, in a blue glow, is the Nameless Archer, wearing his red shroud. His face had taken an amused expression instead of that cold wall he usually kept up. His eyes dart quickly to Artoria, and she feels a pang of an unknown emotion within her heart.

“Heracles, Saber, and Fuyuki” He lists off, his tone remaining at an even level, “Doesn’t this bring up memories.” It seemed that the sudden appearance had spooked Berserker a little, as the demigod jumps back a bit, though clearly not relenting from the fight. Though the mad Servant had lost all reason and logic, its instincts were still that of a battle-hardened hero. “Master, not that I don’t appreciate your trust in my abilities, but why exactly did you summon me, instead of Gilgamesh?” Artoria paid close attention. She knew Archer was skilled, but Gilgamesh was a more logical choice.

Gudao chuckles nervously. He was usually quite nervous in the presence of Nameless. “Ah, well… I saw Saber and Berserker next to each other, and my mind kind of remembered how Saber said that you had managed to kill Heracles 7 times during a Holy Grail War. I know Gilgamesh might be more suited, but that’s not a guarantee, right? It’s largely theoretical since no one has never seen them fight each other, and in a situation like this, I think a proven result is better than a hypothetical one. I’m sorry if-”

“Master…” Nameless interrupts. There is a tinge of surprise in his voice, and from the way he looked at Gudao, Artoria was sure that Nameless had suddenly developed a begrudging respect for Humanity’s Last Master, “I am pleasantly surprised with your choice. It seems that I’ll have to go all out this time.” Nameless turns to Artoria, and deep inside his mind the Archer tries to temper his admiration for the King of Knights as he makes a request of her, “Saber, can you keep Heracles at bay for… 30 seconds?”

Artoria looks at Nameless. She doesn’t know anything about the man at all. His name, his background, even where he was born. And yet, she trusts him. Silently, she nods, and rushes forth, calling upon all the strength in her body. Heracles responds with a swing of his club, which Artoria narrowly ducks under. She takes the opportunity to stab Excalibur forward, but Heracles quickly blocks the attack with his club. Artoria jumps back slightly, repositioning her body and taking a stance.

And suddenly, she hears Archer’s voice, a sombre tone full of regret and misery.

“I am the bone of my sword
Steel is my body and fire is my blood”

It is an aria, a chant used for the activation of magecraft. What on earth could this Nameless be doing? And why did he sound like he was reading his obituary? Artoria couldn’t truly ponder these questions as she baits and dodges Heracles once more.

“I have created over a thousand blades
 Unknown to Death,
 Nor known to Life.”

Was this how Nameless thought of himself? Artoria wasn’t the smartest, but she understood what Archer’s chant was conveying. He saw himself as a tool like one of the many swords that he creates. A tool who cannot be differentiated from between a state of life and death. What kind of tortuous existence has Archer led?

“Have withstood pain to create many weapons
Yet, those hands will never hold anything”

A fate where he is destined to always be a weapon who will sacrifice their peace for others. Is this why he is so insistent on Servants being nothing more than tools? Is this why scoffs and mocks those who tout the ideals of heroism?

“So as I pray, Unlimited Blade Works.”

Suddenly, a ring smoke and ash emerge from Archer, and Artoria’s vision turns to black.

When her eyes open, the first thing she sees is the burning sky. It is the colour of a permanent sunset, and countless clouds blocking a clear sight of any sun. Artoria sees giant floating cogs, rusting and turning even though they weren’t connected to anything.

Her eyes leave the skies and instead meet the barren wasteland before her. Instead of grass or sand, her boots touch what can only be described as scorched soil. Unable to grow anything, it is stagnant and withering. The King is in awe as she sees countless swords littering the wasteland. She could even recognise some of them. Clarent, Durandal, Hrunting, and even spears like Gae Bolg. It felt almost infinite. She felt close to being overwhelmed at how many blades lied here, stabbed into the ground and standing like tombstones.

But she felt something familiar. So tantalizingly familiar. She knows it is in the distance, so far that she couldn’t even dream of touching it. A weapon that does not belong here, that should be impossible to exist in this world. She didn’t want to admit it but recognised the energy from it. But it should be impossible for Archer to have… right?

“Director… This is…” She turns her around to see her Master, Gudao Fujimaru, using one of the many swords in this wasteland as a standing support.
“Yes. You three and Berserker are inside a Reality Marble.” Romani confirms through communicator, “It is completely unlike Iskandar’s Ionioi Hetairoi. To think Archer had this hidden in his sleeves the whole time.”

“Archer… What exactly is this? Just who are you?” Gudao asks, almost desperately searching for answers.

Eyes turn to Archer. His back is turned to his allies, and stares at his world with mournful look. “Ah, I suppose Iskandar never explained what a Reality Marble is.” An uncharacteristic chuckle escapes from the Archer’s lips. It is a bitter sound, not even hiding how much the bowman hated this world of his. “A Reality Marble is the materialisation and projection of the inner world. In essence, this world is a reflection of my soul. It is where my path always leads. My Unlimited Blade Works. Every sword here is one that I have traced, for every blade I trace I pierce this barren soil with it. Understand? This is my true nature, a cog in the machine, a tool to be used to clean humanity’s follies, over and over again.”
“Master, you ask who I am? I am an ideal that should never have been realised. A Hero of Justice who smiled as the very people he saved sent him to the gallows. I am the Counter Guardian known as EMIYA, a fool who gave up his peace, his life, and his love, in the name of justice.”

And without another, EMIYA walks forward to the angered Berserker who was crushing all the blades in its way. The Hunter of the Red Plains raises his fist to the air, and in that motion, thousands of weapons rise from the ground that they were lodged into and fly high into the air. The burning sky of the Reality Marble was covered in blades. And with his arm still high, EMIYA raises his index finger, pointing at Heracles. Suddenly, like a downpour of rain, every sword, lance, and dagger hail from the sky, all aimed at the son of Zeus.

Though the show of power was outstanding, Atoria’s mind was stuck on one word.

EMIYA.

EMIYA.

Emiya.

Shirou.

And finally, the last piece of the puzzle. An explosion in her mind like one of the Broken Phantasms that just killed Heracles.
It all made sense.

Why he had hated Shirou’s ideals so much. Why he always looked at her like he was watching an old memory. From his cooking to the way he knew about her appetite.
It was why her heart felt countless emotions when their eyes met.

Nameless is Shirou Emiya.

Shirou Emiya is Nameless.

Artoria had so many questions, but she suddenly noticed that Heracles, though bombarded and pierced with numerous hundreds of Noble Phantasms, was lifting up his club. She could tell that the Berserker was about to throw the giant weapon thanks to her Instinct skill. A skill that was superior in quality to EMIYA’s Mind’s Eye skill.

The words poured out of her mouth as she calls out to him without thinking, “Shirou!” With the shout, she gets the Counter Guardian’s attention. He looks shocked at being called his True Name after what Artoria can only imagine to be thousands of years. “Dodge the club!” She could see just how much the boy she loved had changed. Once he would’ve clumsily rolled out of the way, or worse, take the club head on. Instead, EMIYA showed the reflexes honed over countless battles. He leaps into the air, clearly dodging the thrown club, and in the air, he holds his arms out.

Flying from the ground and into his hands, Archer equips an ebony black bow and a spiralling sword. With moves that had been performed thousands of times, the sword lengthens in his hands, getting longer and thinner until it is indifferent from an arrow. As he descends to ground, he says the first few words of the chant that define his existence, “I am the bone of my sword… CALADBOLG!” The Broken Phantasm shoots from his bow and hits the pinned Berserker. An explosion of epic proportions burns the land, and already EMIYA can see the grotesque remains of Heracles regenerating, but the Slayer of the Hydra was all but slated to die at this point. “Saber! He only has two lives left!” He shouts at his fellow Servant.

Artoria nods as she raises Excalibur. She was ready, and she had an ally whom she could trust with her very life. Once more had the sword and its sheath meet. Her blade is filled with a newfound determination that it hadn’t experienced for a long time, “This light is the planet's hope... Proof of the life that illuminates this world! Behold! Excalibur!” A grand light shines from her sword. Its reflection burns upon the blade of weapon in this Reality Marble. If Shirou’s world had no sun, then she shall be his light. And as she swings down the Sword of Promised Victory, the Berserker lets out a ferocious roar. It wasn’t one of resistance, but more akin to a warrior acknowledging one another. It is the last sound to be heard from the Greek as he is engulfed in Excalibur’s light.

“Not bad, Saber.” EMIYA compliments, landing upon his two feet. The bow in his hands disappear, and the Saber Servant could see it reappear a few metres away from her, embedded into the ground.

“…Artoria” She says, a little too quietly.
“What?”
“I want you to call me Artoria… Shirou.” This time she uses a more forceful tone. She knew he had initially heard her. The man was simply being dense on purpose.

EMIYA gives her a smile. It is a tired one, and at the same time, painful. “Sorry, Saber. I don’t think I can do that.” He walks past her, his head down making sure not to meet her emerald eyes. He wonders if the fields of Avalon were of the same colour. “And I’ve long since surrendered the name Shirou. The usage of EMIYA is for mere convenience.”

A welling pool of sadness emerges from the sight of the one she loves act coldly to her. Artoria wonders, as the Reality Marble slowly collapses, what lead her determined lover to become a creature of regret.

Why had the one she held closest to her become everdistant?

They returned back to CHALDEA almost immediately, both Artoria and Gudao were ferried off to the medical room, where Medea Lily fretted over them. The Caster Servant tried to drag EMIYA with her, but the once-nameless Archer walked away. Not to the kitchen, but to a dorm room that had been assigned to him.

As Medea worked her magic over her Masters arm, Gudao looked to CHALDEA’s acting director. “Hey, Dr Roman… What exactly is a Counter Guardian?” Artoria looks away, but still listens in.

Dr Roman spins his office chair to face Gudao, and with a solemn expression, he answers the question, “Geez, this’ll be a tough one. Counter Guardians… they’re known as the Protectors of Balance. They’re well, not exactly normal people but compared to true Heroic Spirits they’re basically the average person… Anyway, they were normal people in life, who were offered by the Counter Force to become Counter Guardians. After which, they become little more than indentured servants to Alaya, the collective unconsciousness of mankind. They are thus deployed into scenarios that poses extinction to humanity”

“That sounds super noble and heroic though!” Gudao exclaims, causing both Roman and Artoria to wince. The King couldn’t blame her master for thinking such, but she knew all too well the mistake in his words. “Why would Na- EMIYA be so against heroes? Whenever I talked to him, he always ends up saying stuff about heroism being foolish ideal.”

“Gudao,” Dr Roman slowly starts, “Being a Counter Guardian is a permanent thing. They will remain in their role for eternity, across time and space. And Gudao… it’s not just a matter of them jumping into a point of time and peacefully resolving a situation. What they practice is indiscriminate slaughter. Not only do they kill those who threaten humanity, but any witnesses. Innocents, women, children, and those who were at the wrong place at the wrong time. They are beings not allowed to leave an impact on mankind’s cognition, so everywhere they’ve appeared, only destruction follows, not a trace of them left..”

Artoria watches as her Master’s face pales in horror as he comprehends the fate that her love had been trapped into. She too had once made a contract with the Counter Force. With a vain desire to save her kingdom, she made a deal with the world. Should she be granted the chance to obtain the Grail, have her wish granted, she would then serve Alaya in her afterlife as a Counter Guardian. She supposes that she got lucky to have voided her contract by destroying the Grail in the 5^th Holy Grail War and accepting that her desire was unattainable.

Just another thing she owed her love for.

“That’s horrible…” Her Master mutters, “And EMIYA really went through all that?”
“He’ll probably continue to experience it even after we complete the Singularities.” Dr Roman acknowledges, his eyes not meeting Gudao’s. It was unnerving to see the often-silly acting director be so serious. “We’ll unsummon all the Servants, and he’ll return to Alaya’s service.”

The idea left a pit in Artoria’s gut. Even if she and Shirou were to be one with each once more, they may never meet again. Alaya would never let him go. They would never be truly together, forever separated by time and space.

But she was not one to quit, and she would not look at the negatives of the situation. Frankly, CHALDEA could be the very chance she was looking for to be with Shirou.
She could do this.
Shirou would soon be hers once more.

Artoria felt a little embarrassed by the internal monologue. She was starting to sound like Marie.

Chapter Text

EMIYA sighs in annoyance as he looked down at the young girl before him. He reigns in his remnant emotions that try to rise whenever he sees her in CHALDEA. But thankfully, he never had to interact with her before, apart from empty pleasantries and passing comments. However, now that his name was out, especially since everyone saw him revealing his name being EMIYA, and Artoria calling him Shirou, it seems that the child had worked up the courage to approach him.

The child in question is Illyasviel von Einzbern, a Caster Servant. She looks up at the Archer, her red eyes wide with worry, concern, and curiosity. The girl was a perplexing Servant to EMIYA. Merely because it was odd to see his adoptive sister dress as a magical girl.

“A-Are you really my Onii-chan?” She asks softly, clutching her pink magical wand tightly.
EMIYA tries to shake off the uncomfortable feeling. He could sense that multiple other Servants were watching, but he quite sure it was out of concern for Illya more than anything. Deep down, he was glad that even in the end of the world, that child had people in her corner.

“No.” He answers, his tone remaining cold as it usually is. “Your brother is probably still in your reality, making a meal. I am not him.”
“B-but in a way,” She begins to rebuke, “You’re basically another version of him! No matter how scary you are, you’re Shirou Emiya, and Shirou is my Onii-chan!” EMIYA resisted the urge to smirk. Scary? Was that how all the children in CHALDEA saw him as? He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or offended, but he was definitely leaning to the former.

However, as much as he would like to tease the child who reminded him so much of his own sister, it wouldn’t do her good to be near him. Just one look at her and EMIYA could tell that this Illya was the type to get overly attached, and that would lead only to grief for the child.

“Perhaps, you may see me as your ‘Onii-chan’, but the feeling isn’t mutual, Caster” It hurts him to say such cold words to that face, but pain in all its forms is far too familiar with him. “Illyasviel von Einzbern died in my hands only a year after I met her. You are not her, and you will never be her, Caster.”

“I-I see… S-sorry, Archer!” The magical girl apologises, almost in tears before swiftly running away. EMIYA hid his sadness at seeing her trembling hands as she turns the corner, but even still he is a little happy to see a form of his sister in the flesh.
He looks to his left and sees a woman with long emerald and golden hair that leads up to her feline ears. Perhaps it was because he was from the modern era, but he always found the appearance of ancient heroic spirits to be ridiculous. Of course, the situation was more annoying than amusing since Atalanta the Chaste Huntress hated the sight of crying children more than anything.

“You could have handled that far better, EMIYA.” He notices how she said his name so mockingly. He wonders if she would’ve said ‘Nameless’ with just as much anger.

“I could have, but then that child would continue to keep her silly notion.” He retorts and begins to leave the room. In another life, at a younger and more idealistic age, he might’ve stayed, and asked Atalanta what it was like to be hero. But his current self knew the answer. A fool’s ideal, that only lead to tragedy. Even Atalanta’s life was filled with such tragedy. “Go comfort the girl. I hear it’s what you enjoy the most.”

“…You do yourself no favours in keeping everyone away.” That is the last thing EMIYA hears from the fellow Archer as he leaves the room and walks away. He ignores those words, considering them meaningless. What does it matter whether an action does himself a boon? It would be pointless if lead to pain for everyone involved.

It only takes him another few steps to be interrupted, and this time by an even more troublesome person. Even looking at her caused him endless pain and guilt. It took all of his willpower to suffocate the love he felt to the only person he fell for. He keeps his eyes low to ground, because to see her look at him like that would only make him fall to his knees. Not matter how many millennia of indiscriminate slaughter he experiences; he is weak to her gaze.

“Atlanta was not wrong in what she said, Shirou” Her voice is as stern as ever, commanding respect like none other. Despite that, it is like music to his ears. Being in her presence makes him feel like a drowned man who has finally tasted air once more. God, he knew he sounded so desperate. What person wouldn’t when it came to the King of Knights?

Even still, he keeps up that cold wall.

“I’m not Shirou, Saber.” He says, emotion barren in voice, “That fool died long ago.” He has to push her away. He can’t stay near her, not only for her benefit, but his own. If she takes a step closer, if she touches his face like she once did long ago, he might just break.

“If you do not wish for me to call you Shirou, then simply say my name.” Her voice carries a teasing tone to it. She takes a step closer to EMIYA, as the Archer servant makes sure not blush. He cannot show any feeling towards her, no matter how much wants to.

“I can’t.” He responds simply.
“Are you sure, Shirou? You shouted it quite clearly when you made your promise to me.” EMIYA could practically hear the smugness in her voice. And the unasked question.

“And as you can see, I am not in Avalon. Nor will I ever reach that everdistant utopia.” He fails to hold in the spite on his tongue. Oh, how he tried to reach that paradise. He fought countless mages, looking for any records in the Clocktower for a single possibility to pass into the Reverse Side of the World. He even fought Lord El Melloi II, who was now in CHALDEA as Servant funnily enough, though he was clearly from a different timeline. Despite all his efforts, he found nothing but dragon corpses and failed rituals. Even though he spent his life searching for a way into that Utopia whilst saving countless people as a foolish attempt at becoming a Hero of Justice, he never found a way into Avalon.

So, when Alaya approached him, giving him an offer that his foolish younger self couldn’t resist, he essentially gave up on ever meeting the one he loved the most. That is why EMIYA could not show his true feelings; he could not be with her once more. She deserved somebody far better than he ever could be. Someone who could keep their promise.

“The Shirou I know wouldn’t have given up like that.” She says, almost pleadingly. It is as if she is begging him to smile at her, to reassure, to caress her and say that they will be okay.

But EMIYA cannot.

“The Shirou Emiya you knew was fundamentally broken individual who took upon himself to achieve a stolen ideal that was impossible to reach.” He wants to turn to Saber, to make her look at him and realise what he had become. The mistake she made in falling in love with the wrong person. But once more, he cannot. “He then made an equally impossible promise to a woman that was so beyond him in every way. And finally, the Shirou Emiya you knew made a deal with the devil in order to reach his ideal once he realised that the utopia he sought was truly out of his reach”
“That fool died with a smile on his face as the hangman’s noose went around his neck and the people he saved called for his blood. Why did he smile? Because his death would save countless others. That is how the broken man you fell in love with died. And that is how EMIYA was born. The sooner you understand that Saber, the sooner you be truly happy”

Before she could say a word, EMIYA walks past her, still looking away from her. However, he hears one last thing from her. “…In your reality marble, you said you gave up your love in the name of justice. Shirou, do you still love me?”

EMIYA quietly chuckles, though it is not unheard, “What a foolish question, Saber.”

After all, who could not love Artoria Pendragon?

“-And then he left. He didn’t even answer my question! He simply laughed and walked away. What is that meant to mean?” The King of Knights complains, with an almost uncharacteristic tone of annoyance. She was rarely annoyed. As a King, she had no use for such an emotion.

Meanwhile, the Servant opposite her looked as if she were trying to hold in a chuckle, as Jeanne D’Arc simply smiles, listening to her lookalike.

The Maid of Orleans and King of Knights had developed an odd friendship during their shared time at CHALDEA. Of course, their relationship had started with the fact that they looked astonishingly similar, but the more they talked, the more they realised how alike they were. Both were young when shoved into burdensome leadership positions, both seemingly heroes chosen by fate, both with close confidants that were more like father figures to them, and both betrayed by those they loved or considered close to them. The two servants were more like sisters than friends.

“Perhaps he believes it to be a ‘foolish’ question because it is obvious that he still loves you?” Jeanne suggests. She studies her friend like a scientist would do to a test subject. She was surprised when Artoria had approached her looking for advice on love of all things. It wasn’t like it was shock that Artoria would fall love, but it was unexpected for her to come to Jeanne for such advice. The Ruler Class Servant had very little experience with love outside of her relationship with Sieg. Speaking of the homunculus, she wonders if he will ever come to CHALDEA, whether as Fafnir or himself.
Anyway, it was surprise to hear that Artoria’s heart’s desire was the formerly nameless EMIYA. It was an odd match-up to say the least, and she wondered how it came to be. She had received what she suspected was a very bare bones version of a story, and it did sound quite romantic.

“Then why would he not say it outright?” Artoria lets out frustrated sigh, an uncharacteristic action from the usually composed King. “I know for that him, it has been thousands of years most likely, but did he truly have to become such vague man? Does he enjoy seeing me trying to figure out the hidden meanings of his words?”

Jeanne stared at her lookalike, trying to figure out what to say. She could reassure Artoria, tell the girl that the one she loves still loves her, but Artoria had to come to the conclusion herself, without Jeanne’s interference. “Perhaps you are correct to be worried, Artoria.” The King looked at her friend with surprise, “Imagine how long it must’ve been since he has seen you. Thousands of years, most of them in servitude of Alaya.” Long ago when she was naïve to true nature of the Counter Force, Jeanne saw it as an Angel of God, hidden from writings of the Holy Bible. But the more she learned about the actions of Alaya, the more Jeanne realised that the entity was cut from the same cloth as Divine Spirits. A cruel, unfeeling being. She refused to believe that it could be a facet of humanity's will.
“He knew you for a few weeks, Artoria” Jeanne continues, softly, “It wouldn’t be a surprise if he forgot you entirely. And even then, after all that time, is he still the Shirou Emiya you fell in love with?”

“What do you mean by that Jeanne?” Artoria asks, a little anger in her voice.
“From what you’ve told me Artoria, EMIYA and Shirou are nothing alike,” Jeanne answers, her tone calm and steady, “Different height, skin, hair, eyes, and demeanour. EMIYA is cold and unfriendly, whilst Shirou was kind and always willing to help others. EMIYA scares away children, but Shirou was the type to greet them with a smile even if they were trying to kill him. EMIYA has killed enough men, women, and children to fill entire countries, yet Shirou couldn’t even kill fellow Masters in a Grail War. With all that, do you truly wish to pursue a man who is unlike your lover in almost every way?” Jeanne truly hated how her words were making Artoria feel. She could see the doubt and guilt eating away at the King’s mind, but if her friend truly was to pursue this romance, then her conviction had to be resolute.

There is a long pause of silence as Artoria is in a state of thought. The look in her eyes could pierce through Mash’s shield.

Finally, Artoria speaks, “EMIYA… despite all he says, and the way he acts, he is still Shirou. From the way he cooks, to how he smiles so softly. I can see those little bits of him within the cracks of the wall he keeps up between himself and the world. Whenever my eyes meet his, I feel- no, I know that I see a glimpse of love. I can only hope that love is towards me, because I will continue to fall deeper for Shirou, no matter how much he has changed. If he is truly the broken person that he claims to be, then it is not just my responsibility as someone who has sworn her heart to Shirou, but as knight of her word, to save him like he saved me.” She gets from her seat with determination, and after a few steps, she looks back, and with smile to Jeanne, she says, “Thank you, Jeanne. You are truly a good friend.”

And as Artoria leaves the room, Jeanne softly smiles, glad that she had done something right even with her less than mediocre experience with love. It appears something was in the air apart from the scent of El-Melloi’s cigarettes.
Jeanne frowns for a moment. She reminds herself to talk to Dr Roman about that Caster’s smoking habits.

EMIYA frowns as slices the cucumber that he had placed on the cutting board. Normally, he enjoyed cooking in all of its stages, however today, the Counter Guardian struggled to experience such a feeling. Why? Because of a certain Hound of Ulster was staring at him and chatting up a storm.

“Emiya… Shirou Emiya… Why does that sound so familiar?” The Lancer mutters aloud, his head leaning on the very table that EMIYA was using for ingredient preparation. Cú Chulainn was gazing at EMIYA, trying to discern where exactly he remembers the Archer from.

“Hey, mutt.” EMIYA calls, annoyance clear in his tone, “If I tell you, will you leave the kitchen?” He immediately regrets the offer as a wicked grin spread across the other Servant’s face. EMIYA sighs, realising that he had played into Cú Chulainn’s hands, “Fine. I was a Master in Fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail War. Happy? Now leave.”

A moment passes before the Lancer’s eyes widen in realisation, “Holy crap. You’re that boy that the perverted priest kept laughing about! Saber’s Master! You’re that ginger boy I killed!”
“Oh? Kirei mentioned me? I’m flattered.” EMIYA drawls sarcastically, “I heard that sometimes Masters summon Servants that are alike them in personality, so it’s no wonder a creep like him managed to summon a mangy dog like you.”

“Well, it’s good for me that he wasn’t the one who summoned me,” Cú counters, “He killed my original Master, and forcibly took control over me. I think it was some Irish girl who summoned me.”

EMIYA, looked at Cú with surprise, “Wait, seriously? Kirei didn’t summon you?” It was a shock for him learn something new about a Grail War that he had fought in twice. However, the more he thought about it, the more it certainly made sense. Still, it was odd that he never learnt it had happened.
The Hound grins, pleased that he caught the Archer off guard, so he decides to push his luck, “Say, what’s going on between you and Saber? Are we gonna be seeing any white-haired Saber-chibi’s?”
Unfortunately for the Lancer, his words had the opposite of the intended effect as EMIYA’s body goes rigid, his eyes become colder, and his lips are pursed. Tonelessly, he tells Cú, “There is nothing between her and I. Merely allies in a distant memory.”

Despite the dour mood in the air, Cú laughs aloud, “Ha! Don’t be like that, Emi! Anyone with a pair of eyes that isn’t Saber, can tell that you’re madly in love with her. And hell, whenever you talk about her, you go all poetic-like! I mean ‘allies in a distant memory’? Even in my times, people didn’t talk like that! And I’m the one who seduced my wife with riddles. So come on, what’s the scoop between you two?”

EMIYA sighs, stabbing his knife into the cutting board, and leaning on the table with both hands as supports. His coldness sheds away, only tired eyes remaining. His voice comes out to reveal his true age. An old man who experienced too much. “I… do not know much about where I stand with Saber. How can I, when I can’t look at her face for more than a few seconds?” He didn’t know why he was telling this Lancer of all people, but it was poetic in a way. That Hound was there when Shirou Emiya died for first time. He was there when Shirou met Artoria. Cú Chulainn, in a way, marked the true beginning of the long path to becoming EMIYA. “But yes. In truth, I do still love her. How can I not? Just a single thought of her was one of the few things that let me keep my sanity in last few millennia.”

A soft smile is on EMIYA’s face as he stares into nothing, thinking of Saber. Cú Chulainn lets out a soft whistle, before he gets up from the chair he was sitting on and walks to a fridge. Opening it, he pulls out a pair of cold beer bottles. He walks back, and throws one to EMIYA, which the Archer catches instinctively. EMIYA looks down at the bottle with a confused expression, and glances at the Lancer. Cú jumps backwards on the counter, sitting on it, “Trust me, we’re gonna need these if I’m to get through this conversation.” He removes the beer cap, and places it to his lips, taking a sip. Cú looks at EMIYA and chuckles. “You really do love her, huh? And here I was, thinking love had died in the modern era. The look in your eyes reminds me of when I was with Emer.”

“Your wife, right?” EMIYA asks, decided to partake in the exchange. He eyes the cold bottle in his hands, and with a sigh, he copies Cú and begins drinking. The Archer wasn’t the most experienced when it came to alcohol. In life, he considered alcohol to be something that a Hero of Justice wouldn’t consume. After all, alcohol had been the reason for countless deaths. But, even still, he wasn’t a completely stranger to drinking. He simply never got took enough to drunk, however.

“Aye. I’ve had many lovers, both before and during our marriage.” Cú chuckles, almost proud of his many conquests. EMIYA supposed that infidelity was one of the biggest concepts that were looked differently upon over history. “But despite that, I always had Emer to back to. She was beautiful y’know? And smart to boot. I would fight a thousand armies for her. And gods, she was kind. She was perfect in every way imaginable.”

EMIYA couldn’t help but feel a little jealous as he heard more about Cú relationship with his wife. It was for the same reason he disliked romance movies and books. He always felt like a fool. A fool for falling in love with a woman that was unattainable. But love was a foolish concept to begin with. “She threw herself into your grave, if I remember correctly?” He asks once more, taking another, deeper sip of the beer.

Though it was a grim idea, Cú smiled even more at hearing EMIYA’s question. “Whenever the Throne of Heroes fills my head with knowledge of my own life story, I fall for her so much more knowing she did that for me. To know that she loved me so much… In truth, I hoped she would do it but never asked her. She’d probably castrate me if I had.”

EMIYA couldn’t help but refute the notion, “But surely, it’s selfish. To want that for her? Wouldn’t you rather she lives the rest of her life? Happy? Experiencing what the world has to offer?”

Cú gives a soft smile to EMIYA, something neither ever thought would happen, “And what’s so wrong in being a little selfish sometimes? To be selfish is to be an actual person, and to be a person means having flaws. I’m sure some of the holier-than-thou Saints around here in CHALDEA will moan and groan about striving to be better. To be selfless. But they have their God on their side. Whether he is a divine spirit or some facet of the Counter Force, those saints don’t need know the consequences of what they preach. So, what’s so wrong with having a few selfish desires every now and then?”

EMIYA looks at Cú, and the back at his drink. He stares intently as a few minutes of silence passes, before finally saying something. “I… do not know if I have the ability to be truly selfish. The depths of my selfishness go only to the desire of killing my younger self, but even then, that isn’t really selfish.” He thinks a bit more before continuing, “But… I suppose my most selfish desire is for Saber and I to be with each once more.”

“Then do it, Archer”

EMIYA simply shakes his head at the Lancer’s advice, “And then what? It’ll be amazing for a short time, but soon enough I’ll be back on Alaya’s leash, sent to kill another commune or terrorist cell that got their hands on some ancient ritual.”

Though the thought made EMIYA depressed, Cú laughs. He seemed to be enjoying the conversation far more than his fellow Servant. “Dumbass. The whole point of love is to enjoy it as much as possible within the fleeting moment called life. All love has an expiry date. It just so happens that the date for Emer’s was to be for long after the day I die. So she decided to reach that date earlier than fate dictated it to be.” Cú slides down frown the counter, standing up with the glass bottle still in his hands. “So, what if you two wouldn’t be at each other’s side forever and ever? You will have loved each other, and you will have the memories that the two of you made together till the day humanity stops existing.” He throws his empty bottle into the recycling bin.
“Whether you smile to those memories, or cry to them, so long as those memories make you feel something, then they will have been memories worth making. And the same goes for that crush of yours. She’ll go back to that Avalon of hers, alone. Why not give her some memories to burn away that loneliness of hers?”

Without another word, the Hound of Ulster leaves the kitchen, a fresh beer bottle already in his hands.

Alone in his domain, EMIYA cannot help but laugh, “Being given love advice by the man who killed me. Be selfish? Sounds like advice that would’ve helped me a very long time ago.” Another moment passes and EMIYA picks up the kitchen knife, and his body goes on autopilot as his mind processes Cú’s words.

“Hmm, hmm, hmmm” In another part of CHALDEA, a young woman with long white hair and icy cyan eyes, hums a tune as she prances through the halls. Marie Antoinette was skipping to her room with a smile, her mood ecstatic as she had spent the last hour listening to one of Mozart’s practice sessions. However, there was a nagging feeling that was hidden in the back of her head. A love being unfulfilled. But who could it be…?

“Marie”

The Queen of France stops in her tracks, and looks around to see who had called her name, “Excusez-moi? Is someone there.” And after fully circling, she sees a figure standing behind a pillar, “You can come out…”

The figure finally moves, and out steps Artoria Pendragon, wearing a white blouse complimented with a navy-blue skirt and bow around her neck. Her expression is one of embarrassment, and Marie could sense that she was nervous.

Finally, the King of Knights speaks, “I apologise, Marie, for surprising you. However… I require your assistance.”

Marie laughs, and with smile she walks to the Saber Servant, “Why of course, Artoria! Anything within my power is at your disposal, mon amie!”

Artoria takes and breath, and looks at Marie with determination her eyes, “Queen of France, help me make Shirou Emiya fall in love with me.”
Marie’s smile becomes even wider.

Chapter Text

Within CHALDEA exists a room in which no Servant or Magus can infiltrate or listen in on. It is secured with enchantments and a weak bounded field courtesy of Da Vinci. It also happens to be the location which holds the best quality instant coffee makers in the world, thought that is mainly because it is one of the last instant coffee makers in existence.

It is due to these reasons why several Servants, CHALDEA’s Last Master, and an exasperated Acting Director were sat around an improvised round table, with Queen Marie Antoinette standing tall over everyone in a commanding pose. With a cheery voice, she greets the assembled cast, “Bonjour mes amies! You have all been selected for your skills, connections, or because I like you! Welcome to Operation R.O.Y.A.L!”

Two of the Servants in the room, Avicebron and Sei Shounagon looked at one another. They were an unusual pair, as they had frankly never talked to one another before, yet they were seated next to each other in Director Roman’s room.

“How did she manage to get you involved in this?” Avicebron, though his real name was Solomon ibn Gabirol, asks his fellow poet. “I heard this meeting had something to do with EMIYA, and the last time I checked, you seemed to hold a dislike for that man”

“Oh? Marie-chan said she would help me with my next raid of the kitchens!” Sei answers cheerily, her feet kicking beneath the table. “And you? What did she offer you, Avicebron-san?”

“…Threat of bodily harm.”
“I see… Sorry to hear that.”

“Royal? Is that supposed to stand for something, Marie?” Gudao asks politely, bringing back the attention in the room to the Queen of France, though he was still clearly confused. He wasn’t even quite sure how he got here. One moment he was in CHALDEA’s gym, using the treadmill, the next he was being dragged away forcefully (though there was a clear effort to not hurt him) by the Berserker Servant Lancelot.

“As smart as ever Master! Oui, R.O.Y.A.L hides within it, our operation’s true purpose!” Marie answers pridefully, as she turns around pulls down a white sheet from the ceiling. And then with a press of the remote in her hands, a light emits from the projector, revealing a slideshow on the screen. “It’s true meaning is ‘Romance Orchestrated by Your Adorable Lady’! Truly magnifique, no?” However, she was met with flat stares and judgement glances, even her Master was avoiding showing her the expression on his face. “Come now, it’s an amazing name! Monsieur Lancelot certainly thinks so!”

“Aaarthuuurrr” The Berserker groans with subdued tone.

“See? He is completely on my side! You could learn a thing or two from him, Amadeus!” She says, not noticing that Lancelot had placed his face in his palms. She then presses the remote once more, “Now, listen close, for this Operation will involve all of your talents!”

And so began a plan of… limited proportions. One which made Zhuge Liang wonder whether Marie was either a genius or a Berserker in disguise.

“Come on, ~~EMIYA~~!” In front of the man in question, floated a woman wearing what can only be described as a glorified bikini, made of white silk and gold rims, leaving very little to the imagination. Her face and hair are all too familiar to EMIYA, as he keeps his head down watching the pot of coffee he was brewing. Rin Tohsaka was one of the last friends he had scorned and turned his back on in his foolish quest to become a Hero of Justice. “It’s rude to ignore a goddess! If you don’t tell me where I know you from, I’ll have no choice but hand out divine punishment!”

EMIYA remains quiet, as he turns off the stove. The Pseudo-Servant in front of him was not Rin, but even still, she reminded him of the girl whenever she got drunk or sleep deprived. He rejects the urge to scold the Babylonian like he did with Rin when she tried to join him on a battlefield.
He suddenly feels the touch of a finger on his face, as Ishtar mutters. It seems that the Goddess had taken the route of poking his forehead until he relents and answers her question.

“Don’t be such a bore! Lemme guess, you were the caterer at Marduk’s party in 2500 BCE?” She guesses, before shaking her head, “No… He gets Dumuzid to do that. Perhaps you were one of my many lovers? You most certainly have the looks for it. Or perhaps-”

“Enough, Rin.” EMIYA berates sternly, before realising what he had just said. He sighs and looks up at the smug expression on the Babylonian Goddess’s face. “No wonder Gilgamesh despises you.” There is a flash of annoyance on her face when he mentions the King of Heroes. EMIYA knew of the fellow Archer’s legend and figured Ishtar had been lucky that she inhabited Rin Tohsaka of all people. He felt a little pride knowing that his old friend had influenced a goddess into becoming a somewhat kinder person.

Then a smile crawls on her face, one that reminded EMIYA of whenever Rin would come up with an idea that came at his expense. EMIYA frowns as the Goddess grabs both sides of her loose hair, and raises them to the air, mimicking Rin’s favourite hairstyle. And he frowns further as she speaks.
“Baka! You’re so mean Shirou!” There is something in the way she talks that makes him feel like his old friend was truly in front of him. He clutches his hand into a fist. “Tell me, Shirou? Did you know I used to be in love with you? Do you think any magus would spend so much to bring a boy like you back from the dead? Ah, but you fell in love with Saber! And you ignored my affections as I chased you across the world through a hundred battlefields.” There is a fury in Rin Ishtar's eyes that drown away the love. EMIYA cannot help but to feel a deserving guilt in his heart.

“…You have her memories.”

“Mere shadows of them.” Ishtar drops her smile and her mock-twin tails, as she looks down upon EMIYA, “In this form, I may be a kinder goddess, but even still I do not appreciate a man who scorns all love. I hope you can at least repent with Artoria. Then that’ll mean there’d be one less women whose love you have ruined” She turns to her spirit form as she leaves the room, with only frustrated EMIYA on his lonesome.

EMIYA crashes down a couch, breathing out a sigh and placing a hand on his face. He always knew deep down that Rin had some sort of affection for him. However, life without Saber had been… too much for him back then. He devoted his days to looking for ways to reach Avalon, and in his free time he fought in wars or revolutions, killing his way into peace across nations. The entire time, Rin had been by his side. The only reason she stood by his side the entire time was probably because of her love for him that he did not return. EMIYA sometimes looked back and wondered what could’ve changed if he took the time to sit his friend down and communicated properly about how he would probably never fall in love with her. That she should just move on. Perhaps she would’ve been able to snap him out of his delusions of justice in the same way, or maybe the breaking of their friendship would never happen.

Rin was there, in the final moments of his life as the hangman’s noose became tighter around his neck. She was in the crowds of cheering people, face hooded, tears down her face. Rin Tohsaka was one of the only people who shed tears at his death.

“Dammit. What is this place doing to me?” EMIYA scoffs, glaring at nothing in the air, “It’s like some form of torture and therapy at the same time.” Like a mantra in his head, his mind chants the words in the aria that summons his Unlimited Blade Works. It is a punishment for himself, yet sometimes a blessing. It centres himself, reminds him of his place within the balance of timelines. A glorified hunting dog. This peace, in CHALDEA is temporary. It is no place to enact his impossible dreams, his suffering would be his own.

“And what’s so wrong in being a little selfish sometimes?”

Somehow his mind recalls the words of Ireland’s Child of Light. It had been on his mind for the past few days. He made sure to give the blue-haired loudmouth even less during his meals, which made the Irishman grumble about ‘Good deeds gone unrewarded’.

Yet, EMIYA could not truly find fault in those words. He had long since sworn off the ideals of Shirou Emiya, Hero of Justice, so would selfishness not be the antithesis of such as foolish dream? And yet, EMIYA was resistant to committing to the concept. As much as he hated it, self-sacrificing was practically a habit for him. Even during the Grail War he experienced in life, his older self from alternate timeline had sacrificed himself against Heracles.

He wondered if he would do something similar were he to be summoned as a Servant in another version of the Fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail War.

Suddenly, EMIYA hears familiar footsteps coming towards him. He turns his head and sees the only Shielder-Class Servant in CHALDEA walking to him, a friendly smile on her face. Like her Master, she was once quite nervous around EMIYA, but having learnt of his name and some of his past had humanised the Counter Guardian in her eyes, and though sometimes she may be skittish around him, she still trusted him as an ally in battle.

“EMIYA-senpai!” She greets. Yes, apparently, she had taken to calling him senpai like she did with Gudao. She reasoned it to him being from Japan like Gudao, and that he was essentially her senpai in being a Heroic Spirit, despite EMIYA not really counting as one. It was a little… uncomfortable. It reminded him of Sakura. It didn’t help that Mash was just as kind and pleasant as his old friend, nor did it help that the girl approached him often. At least Parvati stayed away from him.

“Kyrielight, what can I do for you?” He sternly asks, though not unkindly, “Did you want some crepes again?” EMIYA couldn’t help but be nice to the Demi-Servant. There were very few beings outside of saints and divine spirits that were truly pure of heart. Good in every aspect. The child’s only flaw was that she could be too kind sometimes. So, EMIYA would treat her, should she seek it. He would’ve done the same for Illya, or rather the version of her in CHALDEA, but he had made sure to sever that tie for the child’s own good.

“No, EMIYA-senpai, but thank you once more for the crepes. They were very good.” Mash gives EMIYA a light bow. He would’ve been tempted to call her an otaku were it not for the fact that she was being genuinely nice and respectful of EMIYA’s culture, even if it had been thousands of years since he had lived in Japan. “I’m here because Senpai has requested for your assistance in an excursion to the Orleans Singularity. He’s waiting in the Deployment room.” And with that, Mash walks off with a peaceful countenance.

EMIYA sighs. He had somewhat enjoyed being the mysterious, broody Servant that his Master was slightly scared of. Now that everyone knew most of his past, many either looked at him with pity or with a smile. The latter did so because they assumed he was a warrior like them, who chose an eternal battlefield as an afterlife. The former did so because they truly understood the consequence of his choices. However, his Master instead looked at him with awe or respect. It made EMIYA a little uncomfortable. And concerned that his Master had developed some sort of admiration towards the role of a Counter Guardian that the boy may have romanticized in his head.

Regardless of whatever foolish thoughts his Master may be thinking of, EMIYA walks to the deployment room. He traces over his plain shirt in exchange for the black body armour that he wears beneath his red shroud. As he walks, he looks out of the window, and with his reinforced eyes he stares past the bounded field that CHALDEA is in and into the flames that had burnt away the ice and snow that covered Antarctica. If the Shirou Emiya from this timeline was anything like EMIYA’s own younger self, then he was probably in Afghanistan, fighting against a terrorist organisation that was under the control of a Dead Apostle.
But perhaps in this timeline, Shirou Emiya was a well-adjusted human being with a simple moral code and no lofty or unrealistic goals in life.

…

EMIYA silently chuckles at his own joke.

As he enters his destination, he feels every eye in the room land on him… especially her eyes, but he does his best to ignore that feeling in the deepest bowels of his heart. As he takes each step, he recites his Aria once more in his mind and looks at Gudao, “Master, what’s the situation?” He asks, noticing that his Master was in conversation with Marie Antoinette, for some reason the Queen seemed to have conspiratorial smile on her face that EMIYA really did not like.

“Oh, E-EMIYA!” Gudao greets the Archer with a friendly smile, but they boy’s eyes kept shifting side to side like he was feeling guilty about something, “Good, you’re here. Well, Dr Roman found some strange readings in Southern France, so we’re going in to check it out. Hopefully, it’s just nothing, but better safe than sorry. You know how it is…” EMIYA’s eyes narrowed at his Master’s frankly too-casual dialogue. It lacked a certain… uncertainty to it. As if the boy had rehearsed the lines over and over.

However, he would play along with the boy’s scheme, whatever it was. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too troublesome. “I see.” He answers simply.

Gudao claps his hands together, and still with a nervous tone, he gives out a command, “Ok, so EMIYA, and Artoria, lets each head into a Coffin and get this done with!” And the boy, as fast as even a Servant, rushes into an already opened Coffin, and shuts it with the force of Heracles.

It takes a moment for EMIYA to realise what his Master just said. His face slowly turns Artoria, who also looks a little shellshocked. It is because of the surprise that the Counter Guardian feels that he doesn’t see the slight look of guilt on Artoria’s face as she enters her Coffin, nor does he manage to hide the sheer adoration of the King when he sees her. Something that every other Servant in the room notices. Even Illya who was watching the scene by peering from behind a desk. She and Alice (otherwise known as Nursery Rhyme) were clutching each other’s mouths shut to prevent their laughter from ringing around room.

Unknown to EMIYA, his objectively cruel and rude beratement of Illya did at all have the intended effect upon the Magical Girl. Five minutes after she ran away from EMIYA after his response to her calling him her brother, Illya immediately realised EMIYA’s little ploy. Of course, that only further resolved her belief that EMIYA was her brother even if he was from a different world. After all, what move could be more Shirou-Esque than isolating himself for the sake of those he loves.

So, when Marie called upon her aid, Illya was more than willing to lend a hand. Though, the girl wasn’t too privy to the French Queen’s plans, she gave Marie the advice she desired on EMIYA. Illya hadn’t been too sure if her advice on Shirou would still translate to EMIYA, but if it mean seeing a miserable version of her brother become happy, then she would do anything.

As Artoria follows her behind her Master, shoving a stray branch out from the path of her head, she cannot help but glance back at EMIYA. The man had an almost disgruntled look on his face as he walked behind them from a distance. A small pit in her stomach forms as she despairingly wonders if her presence is truly such a burden upon him, but she dispels it immediately. She knew that she simply had to trust Marie.

“O-Over here guys!” Her Master informs them, pointing to a large cavern entrance hidden by some large plants. Artoria winces at her Master’s ‘acting’. It was clear that the boy was privy to Marie’s plot, but really? Could CHALDEA not invest in acting lessons for the young man? Surely William Shakespeare could spare some time into turning Gudao into a somewhat believable actor. She was quite sure EMIYA knew that something was going on. Artoria could only hope that it wouldn’t ruin this mysterious plan.

“We will take the lead, Master. Stay behind us, please.” She asks of Gudao, as she marches ahead of him. EMIYA reluctantly follows suit, as he walks past Gudao and Artoria, and leads the way, all the while projecting Kanshou and Bakuya to his hands. Artoria’s eyes stare into the Archer’s back as they walk into the cave. She wonders it is scarred, filled with marks of his countless years of serving the Counter Force. A deeper, hidden part of her wonders what it would be like if she could caress each and every one of those scars.
She briefly looks away, a blush on her face, embarrassed at her thoughts.

As the light from the outside begins to be replace by the natural darkness, Artoria takes out Excalibur, and let it’s ethereal glow brighten the entire cavern. EMIYA looks back and scoffs, though it seemed to be out of amusement than anything else. “As audacious as ever, huh?”

A small grin crawls on Artoria’s face as she jabs back by saying “Are you sure you are in any position to say that Shirou? I quite remember how far down your jaw dropped when you first saw my sword.” Of course, most people had a similar reaction to seeing Excalibur for the first time. She too was the same when she first saw Caliburn. Though, she wasn’t as obvious about it as Shirou was.

EMIYA rolls his eyes as he retorts with, “I was 17 and until the Grail War, I thought reinforcing steel pipes was the pinnacle of magecraft. I would’ve reacted the same way to Gae Bolg if I didn’t have a negative disposition to it on account of it killing me.”

“Cu killed you?!” Gudao exclaims in surprise, “But I thought you were an adult when you died?”

EMIYA lightly chuckles, “I was. I came back to life after.” He looks back and holds in a laugh at the sight of his Master’s dumbfounded face. From within a hidden pocket of his shroud, he pulls out a necklace with ruby heart pendant, dangling it in the air, “Rin Tohsaka, Ishtar’s host, used a family heirloom to fix my damaged heart. And thus, I came back from the dead.”

Artoria stares at that pendant, surprised that it remained in his possession all this time. For it to be with him even as a Servant, Shirou must’ve held it with him throughout his life, all the way until the day he died. She felt a hint of jealousy at the idea of EMIYA having another girl’s jewellery across eons. At least he had Avalon as a reminder of her.

“Woah,” Gudao says, astounded, as he ducks beneath a stalactite, “Being a Master in Holy Grail War with only Reinforcement magic. Wasn’t Heracles in that Grail War as well? Man, I would’ve probably died on the first night.”

Artoria could tell that EMIYA was somewhat enjoying watching her Master’s reaction to his admittedly outlandish past, and she listens closely as he replies to Gudao, “I probably would’ve, but I was very lucky. Not only did I get revived by Tohsaka, but Berserker also nearly killed me with a single swing of his blade. The only reason I survived it was because I had Avalon stored within me.” His smile dims a bit at the mention of her scabbard, for it most likely reminded him of her Everdistant Utopia. She truly does wish there was a way she could guide him to her afterlife, but the land is everdistant for a reason.

“Wait. You mean Excalibur’s scabbard!” Gudao all but shouts, and Artoria could hear mutters of surprise from Dr Roman over the communicator. “How do just happen to have it with you? Do you still have it?”

“I had it because my adopted father placed it in me to save my life when he first met me, a souvenir of sorts from the Fourth Fuyuki Holy Grail War.” Artoria frowns at the memory of Kiritsugu Emiya. When she first met Shirou, she could hardly believe that man had raised such a noble boy, but now that Shirou had become EMIYA, she could only wonder if Kiritsugu was an idealistic child as well, who only wanted to save people. Perhaps Irisviel had fallen in love in a similar way as her. EMIYA continues speaking, snapping Artoria from her thoughts, and she noticed the almost mournful look on his face. “As for whether I still have Avalon… No. I don’t.”

Her heart drops as hears him admit to losing. Had he lost it? Had he thrown it away? Every single second her every insecurity begins to wrap around her heart.

“Can… Can I ask how you lost it?” Gudao nervously asks, clearly noticing the look of despair on Artoria’s face.

EMIYA sighs, but still answers, “8^th October 2011. Kandahar, Afghanistan. I was about 24 years old, helping some of the rebuilding efforts despite people calling me to celebrate the end of the war. A boy approached us. He couldn’t have been more than 10.”
“He had a look of fear on his face, and I immediately noticed that there was bomb strapped to his chest. In the same second as he presses a button wired to the bomb, I managed to contain the explosion, but… when the smoke cleared the child was on death’s door.” Artoria felt pity, but she did not feel much horror at the idea of a child being used as weapon in a war as her Master did. She had met many children who took up the sword against her kingdom. She fell many who dared to go against her. The horrors of war were constant throughout time and space.
“He was far too hurt for first aid to do anything, and none of the nearby hospitals had electricity yet.” Another sigh from EMIYA, “That was when a fairy approached me. It gave me an offer. Avalon, and in exchange the boy would be healed. I took the deal immediately. I'm quite sure that the fairies had been following me since the Grail War, looking for an opportunity to acquire Avalon from me.”

All the feelings of despair and insecurity that had been plaguing Artoria disappeared. Giving up a Divine Construct for the sake of a child’s life? That was exactly the Shirou she knew and loved. A large smile was on her face, though she did her best to hide it.

She is surprised when she hears her Master sniffling, with tears down his eyes, a look of admiration on his face, “You’re so cool, EMIYA-sensei!”
“First I’m called senpai by Shielder, now I’m your sensei?” Artoria laughs at EMIYA’s incredulous tone. It has been so long since she had heard his voice so full of any emotion other that self-loathing. She had missed it.

“But it’s true though, sensei!” Gudao exclaims, “I mean, you destroyed a corrupted Holy Grail, so that basically means you’ve saved the world in a similar situation as I’m in! You can be my sensei!”
EMIYA gives his Master a withering look. “You know how my story ends, Master. If you want a teacher, then someone like Saber here would be far more suited for a far better ending for you.”

Gudao shrugs, “Look EMIYA-sensei, I kind of get it. Your past, and your afterlife was… rough, really rough, to say the least. But still, you saved so many. I’m trying to save all of humanity, and I’ve got less to work with than you do. Sure, I’ve got Servants, and CHALDEA’s assistance, but me? I’ve barely any talent in magecraft. I don’t have Gradiation Air like you, or Avalon. I’m not even that smart. I rely on Mash for a lot of plans and ideas. I’m only here because I got a bit sleepy. I’m a cosmic coincidence. That’s why I need you, Shirou-sensei. You’re the only one who can teach me how to be a proper hero, because as much as you want to deny it or mock it, you’re what I think of when I imagine a hero. Sure, as a Counter Guardian, you killed loads of people, but you’ve also saved billions in turn. I know all life is meant to be equal, but it doesn’t change the fact that maybe if I become more like you, then we’d have an easier time-” Finally, the boy stops talking, having realised that people need to breathe to talk.

EMIYA had a complex expression on his face, emotions ranging from anger to surprise to embarrassment. However, he places a hand on Gudao’s head, snapping the boy out of his raving. Artoria would be a liar to say if she wasn’t a little jealous of her Master.

“Are you finished?” He asks with a stern tone. Gudao looks a little conflicted for a moment, before he nods simply. EMIYA’s expressions lightens softly. It reminded Artoria of how Sir Kay would sometimes look at her. She wondered is she would ever see her older brother figure summoned as a Servant. “Look, Gudao,” Artoria’s eyes rise. That was the first time EMIYA had ever referred to the boy by name, “I… can’t tell you how to save the world. My desire to save people was just that, a desire. It wasn’t from good and pure intentions, but rather a pathological need. You have to save this world out of necessity. Our paths are worlds apart.”
Gudao’s face turns to one of despair, yet EMIYA continues on, “However, I suppose I can still teach you what not to do. I’ll be your sensei on how to not make the same mistakes as I have. And my first word of advice on that is… Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.”

“Huh?”

EMIYA chuckles at Gudao’s confusion, “I mean what I’m saying, Gudao. Somehow, as a somewhat normal person you’ve managed to fix several singularities, fought heroes and monsters that could cause fear in gods, have lead armies, and somehow you’ve managed to unite countless heroes and villains throughout history from different cultures and religions, all under a single banner with you at the lead. You’ve done something impossible, kid. If your story ever reaches the ears of the humans that you will save, then there is no doubt you will join the Servants in the Throne of Heroes. You are a good person. Remain so, and you will see the end of mankind’s incineration.”

“I… Wow… Thanks, Shirou-sensei.” Gudao is dumbfounded, blushing in slight embarrassment. “I’ll live up to your expectations, Sensei.” There are more stars in the boys’ eyes than there are in the night sky.
Artoria internally sighs, ‘Caught another one with your charm. A boy this time. Some things really don’t change.’

Suddenly, Artoria hears a voice from her communicator, this time tuned in on a private channel that her, Gudao, and those involved in Marie’s plan. Though that channel, she manages to make out someone talking that was somewhat hidden by sobbing. “Master, whilst that truly was one of the most beautiful scenes I’ve ever witnessed, please remember this excursion is about EMIYA and Artoria. Please don’t third wheel. It’s quite unbecoming. And just so you know, you’re getting close to the checkpoint. The final concerto shall soon begin.” Ah, it was Mozart. Then the crying must be from Marie.

But what would happen at this checkpoint? What had the Last Queen of France planned?

As the three march forth, awkward silence in the air, the cave begins to rumble. Gudao leans against cavern wall to get his bearings, and Artoria listens to the shouting over the communicator. “MONSIEUR LANCELOT! You are far too early. Please wait for the signal.”

“Aaarthuuuuur…”

“Oui, I understand you quite bored, but that is precisely why we gave you a Gameboy!” Artoria wasn’t quite sure what a ‘Gameboy’ was, but she wasn’t sure what it was doing with her knight. Had Lancelot caused the cavern to shake? What exactly was Marie doing?

“Aarthuurrrr!” In all honestly, as much as she enjoyed the Berserker form of her knight, and how he truly felt remorseful for his actions in life, Artoria was getting really tired of Lancelot always using her name as a form of speech. Surely he could learn a few new words during their time CHALDEA. Sure, he wasn’t bright in life, but it wasn’t as if he was a complete simpleton.

“Don’t even think of trying to use my brilliant plan as a hostage for better working conditions!”

“ARTHUUUR!”

“…Very well, petite conne!” Marie shouts back, frustration in her voice, “We shall allow negotiations, but only after you keep your end of the deal! Understood? Now the lovebirds shall reach the checkpoint in about one minute! Get ready!”

Another voice follows after, the tired and exasperated voice of Dr Romani Archaman, “Hey you guys. I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell the rest of the Servants about what Lancelot just did. Because one thing will lead to another, and the last thing that CHALDEA needs is a Servant Union.”

After that, Artoria could only hear a low rumble from Lancelot that she could only interpret as a laugh. Although, she was more concerned about the idea of Lancelot creating a union for Servants, and it seemed that her Master was too, judging by how his face paled.

Another few metres through the cave, and suddenly the cavern starts rumbling once more. However, this time it was far worse. A lot worse. Stalactites begin to fall like flies, cracks begin to form around the wall, Gudao could barely find something to keep him steady.

And then, suddenly, Artoria notices a section of the cavern above Gudao. Almost ready to shatter and tumble. So, out of instinct, the King of Camelot kicks her Master away with minimal strength, and he is forced out of the way just as an entire roof of rocks come down and create a wall separating the Masters and Servants.

“Damn it.” EMIYA curses beneath his breath, as he approaches the cave-in, “Are you okay, Master?” He asks through the communicator, as the Archer places hand on the rock wall, and sighs after a moment, “We can’t break this down unless we want another, even worse cave-in.”

Finally, Gudao’s voice could be heard from their communicators, “Sensei! Artoria! Don’t worry, I’m okay. But I don’t think I’ll be able to get through this. Hmmm… Okay, how about this. You two go ahead and scout whatever was causing Dr Roman’s readings. If you think you guys will be able to handle it yourself, then attack, otherwise I’ll summon you back with my Command Seals.”

“Understood, Master.” Artoria and EMIYA answer back on the communicator. Gudao tells them he’ll be waiting by the entrance of the cave before he leaves the channel. The Saber and Archer duo nod to one another before walking deeper into the cave.

A few minutes pass, before EMIYA finally breaks the silence, “…Good job, Saber.”
The compliment surprised Artoria so much that she could reply with “Huh?”.

“You know,” The Counter Guardian rubs the back of his head, a little embarrassed. Just like his younger self did in Artoria’s memories, “For noticing and saving Master. It was a good kick.”

Artoria looked away from him, a blush burning brightly on her face. She mumbles a thanks, before collecting herself. She didn’t how, but the fact that Shirou had complimented her was a sign that something was working. Whether it was Artoria herself, Marie’s plan, Master’s friendship to Shirou, or something else in CHALDEA, EMIYA was letting down his walls. Now, if only he could say Artoria’s name instead of her class.

“…Thank you too, Shirou.” She says quietly, though EMIYA could still hear it, “For giving that advice to Master. I knew something had been plaguing his mind for a while, but I had no idea that it was so severe or what to say to him about it. So… thank you Shirou.”

EMIYA sighs, once more itching the back of his head, “It’s nothing, Saber. They were merely sentiments another boy would’ve benefited from a long time ago.” There is a morose smile on his face, but when he glances at Artoria it morphs into a smirk, “I figured you would’ve been upset about me losing Avalon.”

Artoria smiles back, “Well, if you had traded it for some ale, then I would’ve been far more than upset, however you use it save a child. How could I be mad at that, Shirou? Though I do wish you had something to remember me by.”
There is a long silence after that last comment, and Artoria wonders if she had teased him too much too quickly, whilst EMIYA feels out of his depth, his conviction to rekindle a romance long sought starting to waver.
Artoria thought she heard him say something beneath his breath, just quiet enough to where she could hear only one word, ‘selfish’. Was he talking about her? Perhaps her actions were selfish. Perhaps she was too wrapped up in her own love that she hadn’t considered Shirou’s love.

However, he finally answers, “As a… As a Counter Guardian, I live for thousands of more years than any normal person should. Because of that, there are points in my… service, in which I stop remembering. I forget my name, the city I was born in, the life I had lived. I have to constantly trace my Rin’s necklace to understand why I kept it.”
“However, there are always two memories I keep. Always. The first, is the night of the Great Fire of Fuyuki. The day Shirou Emiya was born. The second was the day I died for the first time, or rather the night of that day. With a killer superhuman approaching me, I am alone in my shed, but then suddenly, the ground beneath me glows an ethereal blue.”
“And someone appears in front of me, doused in the moonlight. The first thing I notice is her eyes, emerald like boundless fields in a sunny day. Her hair was golden, shining far more than any treasure. And the way she stands, I cannot help but feel the urge to kneel. And she says to me, in her entrancing voice, “I ask of you, are you my Master?”. It is that memory that has kept me sane for so long.”  

As every word escapes his mouth, Artoria feels her heart pound harder, her face warm up, her legs getting shaky, and her hands clutching Excalibur with a greater grip. “You can say all that, but you can’t say my name.” She mutters to herself. Had it truly been so memorable for him?

“Hm? Did you say something?” EMIYA asks, having not quite heard her.

“I sa-” However before she could say the rest of her sentence, EMIYA places a finger on top of Artoria’s lips, as does place a finger from his other hand on own. He then points ahead of them, to an abnormally large open area within the cave. There, stomping around the flat ground of the stone chamber are countless creatures made of stone, blazing red eyes glancing around for something, anything.

When EMIYA takes away his finger, Artoria purses her lips, licking them, much to the Counter Guardian’s ignorance. She felt almost perverted by the action. Yet, that was the first time he had touched her since the Fifth Holy Grail War. But as much as she enjoyed that brief moment, Artoria wants more. So much more.

“Think we can take them on?” He asks, as his Mind’s Eye skill begins to analyse ever possible opening.
Artoria watches the living structures walk. These creatures had to be part of Marie’s plan. “So long as you have my back.”

EMIYA smirks, “Always.”

And like the moon and stars, the two come together to create something beautiful. A picture of pure slaughter.
Artoria jumps in, bringing down Excalibur onto a golem, tearing its head down to the lower abdomen, and as another golem approaches from behind her, EMIYA shoots an arrow, and when it embeds it into the approaching golem’s torso, it explodes shattering every stone above its legs which in turn crumbles.

As they duet a concert of sword and arrows, golems begin to crash to the ground, their remains becoming the dust that decorates the cavern’s floor. They fall like dominoes, they fall easily. Far too easily.

With only a few golems left, EMIYA leaps down from the vantage point he had found, and dissipates his bow in exchange for Kanshou and Bakuya in his hands. He slashes at a golem’s knees, sending it tumbling down to the ground, and then rains down multiple swords which pierce its rocky exterior.

And finally, Artoria slays the last golem with one final slash of Excalibur.
For a moment, EMIYA takes in the view. Artoria breathing heavily as her Sword of Promised Victory shines against her armour, dust adorning her skin as she dons the face of the battle-hardened king. He fights the urge to blush.

“This was… quite easy, Shirou.” She says, snapping the Archer from his trance.

EMIYA nods, “Too easy”. He Traces a miniscule piece of rubble left by a golem, just enough to leave a substantial history. And as the information pops into his head, he looks at Artoria with a serious expression on his face, “These golems are a Servant’s creations. Avicebron’s to be exact. So either there’s a shadow Servant here or…” He trails off, and his head turns to Artoria, “This is a trap.”

Suddenly, a voice rings out, a female voice that is light and cheery.

“All that dazzles, anything exciting...”

EMIYA pauses. He recognised the aria that those words were from. He spins his head around looking for where the voice originates, but he finds nothing.

“Bodies may disappear, but our spirits are eternal!
Perpetual, everlasting!
Emotional Engine, Full Drive!!”

Suddenly the space around them begins to warps, as EMIYA stands back to back with Artoria, weapons drawn. And together, unknowingly, the blink simultaneously.
When they open their eyes, they find themselves in a city, and though empty and far more quiet than it should be, EMIYA recognises it instantly.

The tall office building that reflected the sun open the roads, the stores he once shopped at for groceries, the home of an old lady he would help cross the street, and even the distant view of a manor obscured with the forests. He allowed a smile on his face as an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia.

He was Fuyuki City again.

Chapter Text

They walk side by side in the middle of the road. She watches him take in the city that he believed that he would never see again. The two servants had decided that since they were not under any immediate danger, that they could put away their battle outfits. Artoria wore a snow-white double breasted, a deep blue pleated skirt that goes with her similarly coloured scarf that went down to knees which were covered in black tights, and finally brown boots.
EMIYA in contrast to Artoria’s winter outfit wore more summer-orientated clothing. An open navy-blue button-up shirt with a ribbed white tank top beneath it, matching jeans with the same colour, and glasses that hung off his shirt. Of course, he didn’t need the glasses, but the outfit was something Rin Tohsaka had put together back in his life, and apparently the glasses were there to ‘put the ensemble together’.

“Emotional Engine, Full Drive,” EMIYA mutters aloud, looking at the sky, “A Reality Marble which rewrites the world with the feeling of a nostalgic view that has the intended effect of eating away the souls of enemies using their negative emotions.”

“My soul doesn’t seem to be taking any damage, and whilst I may be fond of this city, Camelot would probably be a more nostalgic place for me.” Artoria comments, though she wonders if she may instead see the golden field when she first found Caliburn. Yes, that would be far more fitting than Camelot.

EMIYA shakes his head, “Heroic Spirits that gain a Reality Marble as a Noble Phantasm when they enter the Throne of Heroes have full control it. On top of that, Sei Shounagon didn’t register us as enemies when we were captured by her.” He suddenly stops and looks out onto the Fuyuki harbour, though barren of ships and the cargo boxes that usually littered the port.

“Is something the matter, Shirou?” Artoria asks with a worried look at the Archer’s sudden pause. The look of nostalgia on his face, however, suggested that he was wrapped in bitter memories.

He shakes his head, “No. I just remembered how I would stop by here after school, waiting for Kiritsugu to return from his yearly trip. Though now that I think of it, he was probably going to the Main Einzbern Estate in Germany, trying to meet Illya.” EMIYA smiles mournfully at the thought of his deceased younger sister.

As the return to walking, Artoria breaks the silence by commenting, “It is… good to know that Kiritsugu at least tried to reunite with Illyasviel. I hadn’t expected that of him.”

EMIYA gives her an appraising look, “He really left a bad impression on you. I guess I can’t blame you for that. I heard stories of the Magus Killer and his red ledger. I can’t imagine what a Grail War with him in it must’ve been like.” He looks wistfully towards the direction of the Emiya Compound where he lived in his youth. He remembers when he first heard tales of his adoptive father’s former job. His younger self couldn’t have been more shocked to know his mild-mannered father was a hardened killer, but soon after the 19-year-old Shirou took the story as a way to spur further into his ‘Hero of Justice’ dream. Instead of taking the message that constant killing is no way to become a Hero of Justice, Shirou Emiya believed that becoming Humanity’s killer and shouldering the burden of slaughter was the only possible path.

He truly was a fool.

But despite the irony, now was no time to be wrapped up in the past. EMIYA looked at his companion, truly looked at her and took in her every detail. He had something to do. Something he wouldn’t be able to take back. Something he wouldn’t want to take back.

“Saber. There’s somewhere we should go.” He ominously tells the King, before walking ahead deeper into the city.
She follows suit, curiously looking at the Archer.

After a few minutes, they reach a store nestled between two tall apartment buildings, above its entryway is a sign that reads ‘Copenhagen’. A café. The two enter the building and bell rings as the door swings.

“Take a seat, I’ll be with you soon.” Archer asks of Artoria, nodding towards a circular table by the sole window in the café, with only two chairs that would make those who sit by the table face opposite of one another. She sits down on a maple chair, only a potted fern to keep her company. EMIYA walks behind the counter and into the kitchen, leaving Artoria to her thoughts.

As she fiddles with a sugar cube that was on table in small pot, Artoria wonders why EMIYA had brought her here. Could he possibly give her a more forceful dismissal? She could admit that her approach was quite wilful, but Artoria had figured that it would be required to break through the cold exterior he kept between himself and the world.

If he were to truly reject her, what would she do? Yes, she’d have to help CHALDEA resolve the last few singularities, but what about after she was unsummoned? She’d be back in Avalon, waiting for a man that had lost the will to search for her. Perhaps she’d have to end up as a shut-in like Merlin.

Artoria shudders at the thought.

Suddenly, she smells coffee beneath her nose. She looks down to see a blue mug containing a golden-brown liquid. She raises her head to see EMIYA sitting on the other seat, sipping from his own mug. Artoria notices that for once, the anti-social Archer was meeting her eyes, though only for a few seconds before staring back at his coffee. Though Artoria was glad that EMIYA was at least looking at her now, she couldn’t help but be a bit miffed that she was being treated like some sort of monster that only exposure therapy could overcome.

“You must have a lot on your mind, Saber” EMIYA comments, “You didn’t even notice me sitting down.”

“Apologies, Shirou.” Artoria raises the cup to her lips and takes a sip. A look of surprise appears on her face as she places it back on the table, “I prefer tea, but this coffee is unusually good.”

EMIYA softly smiles, “Yes. Just as good as I remembered. Nostalgia is one of the few flavours I’m unable to recreate in the kitchen.” He takes another sip, and lets an awkward silence rest for a few seconds before asking, “So, Saber, care to explain why you collected a couple of Servants to trap you and I in my most nostalgic memory?”

Artoria’s face flushes red in embarrassment and she begins to stutter, losing the composure that she learned as a king, “I- I have no clue as to what you are implying, Shirou!”

EMIYA gives his well-worn smirk, as he looks at the Saber Servant, “As if Master hadn’t given everything away in the first few minutes. Even if I ignore that, those golems we fought? I used my Structural Analysis on them, and they belonged to Avicebron. And of course, we’re in Sei Shounagon’s Reality Marble. As well as that, yesterday I saw Marie Antoinette watching ‘The Parent Trap’ on a TV during midnight.”
He notices the look of confusion on Artoria’s face, “It’s an old movie, not that important, but it tells me that Rider orchestrated this… plan. But the most damning point?” EMIYA looks out of the window, and narrows his eyes, “Master, Marie, Lancelot, Sei, and Kyrielight are 3.6 kilometres away from us, reading our lips through a Mystic Code Binocular. Now they’re panicking since they realised that I know they’re here” He stands up, and pulls down the blinds of the window, turning on the light switch. “So, is there any reasonable explanation for these… shenanigans?”

Artoria’s face was red in embarrassment, but she answers nonetheless, “I… A few days ago, I asked Marie for help… Help with making you fall in love with me again.”

…

“What?” Is the only word that EMIYA can say as he looks at Artoria, a bewildered expression on his face, a faint blush on his cheeks. Despite the millennia as a Counter Guardian, he was still Shirou Emiya, and as such he was utterly terrible at any situations involving romance. He still figured it was a miracle that he hadn’t short circuited when he had to perform a mana transfer in the Fifth Holy Grail War. So, he quietly tempers the heat rising from his heart as if it were another blade, trying to keep some semblance of his composure.

Instead of answering his question, Artoria’s whole face begins to glow red as she stares down at her cup with the same intensity as she does in battle. In her mind, this was essentially another battle.

The next few minutes were so quiet that a person could hear a deafening pin drop. There is no eye contact, no words, nothing but a thousand thoughts running between the two.

Until…

“Your plan was doomed to fail.” Shirou admits, his mental walls finally breaking down as the feeling of a heavy fog lifts from his mind.
Artoria lets her blush die and a sad smile rests on her face. A small part of her had already braced for the possibility of Shirou outright rejecting her, but she hadn’t realised that it would hurt so much.

Another pause, and Shirou expression turns to shame as he realises what exactly he had said, “I- Sorry. That’s not what I meant.” He takes a deep breath as he continues, “A plan to make me fall for you once more would never have worked because… Because I have never stopped loving you.”

As the words register in Artoria head, she looks up at Shirou Emiya, his own crimson blush appearing on his face. He scratches his jaw line, feeling almost awkward.  “Truly?” Is all Artoria can ask in turn.

Shirou sighs and nods, “I’ve never really stopped. Sure, there were times where it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind, but as a Counter Guardian, the night I summoned you kept me going. Kept me sane. Stable. Ever since the war, I’ve felt an all-consuming love for you. I’ve never fallen in love with anyone else, and I never will. I searched so long for Avalon, not because it is a paradise, but for you. Because you are my utopia. My reason to continue living.”

Happiness floods Artoria’s heart, and she lunges across the table, clasping Shirou’s right hand within both her own. She smiles at him, a wide smile that would make anyone incredulous to believe that it belongs to the emotionless King Arthur. “I’m so glad to hear that, Shirou. For a while I feared that you hated me, blamed me for putting you onto the path of becoming a servant of Alaya.”

Shirou looks at her in surprise. He hadn’t even thought of such a possibility, and as so he voices that thought, looking directly into Artoria’s emerald eyes. He sometimes wonders if those eyes shared the same colour as Avalon’s fields. “Saber, I could never blame you for the path that I was fated to walk. It could never be your fault.”

“But if I had-”

“-But if you noticed in the Grail War that my goal would lead to my servitude, my foolish younger self would’ve only been further spurred on by spite.” Shirou sighs, as he uses his free hand to grab onto Saber’s grasp, “The moment Kiritsugu pulled from the rubble and flames, an empty vessel was born, ready to accept any ideal as his own that he would pursue religiously. Becoming a Counter Guardian was my fate as a flawed individual. I once wondered if the corrupted Holy Grail from the Fourth Grail War had somehow affected me. But no. That was just who I was.”

Artoria looked at her love in sadness, to see him think of himself so lowly. It would be something that she’d have to remedy in the future, “But if you do not blame me for leading you to your fate, then why push me way, act coldly to me, and refuse to be near me for so long?”

Shirou’s tired eyes look at Artoria, his age as clear as day, “I did it for you. You deserve something far better than I could offer, you deserve true happiness, and I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to offer that to you… And to be honest, I’m scared.”

“Scared?” Artoria questions, surprise evidence in her voice.

“I am… afraid that you’ll hate me once you realise that I’m no longer the one you loved. That when I leave CHALDEA, my memories of you will be marred with a look of disappointment. I fear that if we do enter a relationship, that once I am unsummoned, I will be further dragged into despair and lose my sense of self. And most of all, I am terrified that I will hurt you or break your heart somehow. Because to see you cry because of my action would haunt my days.” His eyes hold nothing but pain and worry, but even still, now that Artoria finally had a clear view of his eyes, she could see the overwhelming love that Shirou spoke of.

So, she decided to take charge.

She gets up from her wooden chair, and with a single hand she grips the table, and throws it to the other side of the room where it shatters against a wall. With nothing between her and Shirou, she approaches the Counter Guardian with a steely look on her face. She looks down at him as he stares up to her, still sitting.
Their faces were so close that they could feel each other’s breath on their faces,

Artoria raises her hand, and places it on his cheek, and secretly relishes in finally being able to touch his skin once more, and to be able to make such a cute blush appear on his face again.  “Shirou,” She says his name with such tenderness, one would that they had been married for eons, “I swear upon my blade, upon my honour, and everything that I stand for, that I will always have nothing but love towards you till the day my very soul perishes. You claim I deserve someone better, but there is no one better for me than you. With you, I feel alive once more. Is it wrong to be a little selfish?”

She edges closer to Shirou, their faces only a finger’s width apart, their eyes directly in front of each other, “I understand you’re scared Shirou, but so am I. I am so incredibly scared of what may happen if we take this step. But, my love for you is strong enough to tame such fear, and no matter what, I shall be by your side as you overcome your own fears.”

A beautiful smile glows on Artoria’s face as she asks him one final question, “So, I ask of you, Shirou, will you be mine?”

A pause.

A heartbeat.

A hand is placed on the women’s cheek.

And then, a kiss.

Shirou brings his lips to Artoria’s, and the world turned upside down for the Archer. The feeling of her tender lips with taste that reminded him of apples. He can feel his heartbeat faster as their kiss parts and he sees her face, a mixture of surprise, joy, and love.

“Saber… No, Artoria,” He says her name so softly, for it felt like the name that came from his mouth was far greater than he deserved to use, “I will always be yours, now and forever. I… I love you, Artoria.” He stands up fully, and with his full stature he is looking down on Artoria, his hand still caressing her face.

“And I you, Shirou” She says, and standing upon the tip of her toes, Artoria returns the kiss to his lips. This time she is able to take in the full pleasure of kissing her love. It is everything that she had fantasized for so long. The sensation was more like the concept of paradise than Avalon could ever. She would easily give up an eternity in Avalon for even another second of the shared kiss.

Parting once more, she looks at his flushed face, and at that very moment she’d love nothing more than to pounce on him, and experience Shirou Emiya in the best way possible. To explore every part of him, in a dance of love and lust. Yes, they had done the deed eons ago in the Fifth Holy Grail War, but that was under the guise of a Mana Transfer. For having such a materialistic desire behind it made Artoria feel it a stain against what was otherwise a tender moment.
But now, she had the chance, the chance for she and Shirou to become one once more with passion being the singular reason.

Yet it would have to be for another. After all, they were still in Sei Shounagon’s Reality Marble.

Her arms are around him, and his are around her, an embrace of emotions that they had both been repressing for a long time. It was like a painting, a moment which could never be replicated by another hand. After millennia, two lost souls had finally found each other, had finally loved each other.
Now the future and the path before laid bare in their hands.

They share one final kiss as the Reality Marble collapses, the café around them melting into the shadows.
As they separate, they realise that they were back standing in the cavern where they had fought the horde of golems.

“C’est magnifique!” The voice snaps them out of each other’s gaze, as the two look at the ensemble who had been spying on them. They had happy expressions, even if Sei didn’t like Shirou, even she enjoyed the show of love. Marie Antoinnete continues speaking, an expression between smugness and pride on her face. “It appears my plan has worked exactly as it should! Artoria, now you have reconciled with your lover, you must tell me all the details of your conversation!” The Queen of France grabs Artoria, the latter too stunned to say another word and drags her out of the cavern. The other Servants follow suit, leaving only Shirou and Gudao.

The two protagonists stand together in silence, as Shirou processes the events that had happened. Despite knowing that he was still within Alaya’s palms, he felt truly, finally, free.  But finally, humanity’s last Master speaks.

“Hey, Shirou-sensei?” He says, looking up at the Archer, “Are you happy?”

Shirou thinks on the question for a minute, before gentle smile graces his face, “Yes, I think I am.” It’s a foreign emotion for the Counter Guardian, but it’s a missing warmth that he had unknowingly longed for.

Gudao smiles in return. “That’s good. I’m glad you found love.”

Shirou looks down on his Master, and uncharacteristically places his hand on the boy’s head, “So am I. And I suppose that this means you’ll have to ask Kyrielight on a date.”

The Master leaps back in surprise, a flabbergasted expression on his face which flushes a crimson red. “Wha- What! I- I have n-no clue what you’re t-talking about sensei!” He stutters out in embarrassment.

Shirou chuckles out in amusement. ‘If this is what happiness is, then I’m glad I was summoned in CHALDEA.’  

And as the man escorted his flustered Master outside the cave, something stirred within his very soul. In a barren wasteland, littered with swords, the clouds parted slightly, and the sun’s light finally shone down upon this blade graveyard, and from the centre of where that light shone, a single flower sprouts of the soil, blossoms and blooms.

A single golden daffodil.

FIN