[Fuyuki City, the Emiya Residence]
The night was like ink. Moonlight slipped through the clouds, spilling onto the silent streets. A breeze brushed past, making the leaves rustle.
Emiya sat quietly on the corridor at the edge of the courtyard, his back against a wooden pillar, his hands resting loosely on his knees.
His gaze passed over the eaves, toward the moon hanging in the night sky. The heavens were clear and tranquil, dotted sparsely with a few stars.
Emiya's expression was calm. His eyes seemed to pierce through the moon, looking toward some place far beyond.
If the Holy Grail War had unfolded as it was supposed to, Emiya Kiritsugu would have come to this city as the Einzbern family's outside help.
By using the sheath, Avalon, as the holy relic, Kiritsugu would summon Saber, Artoria Pendragon. After a series of brutal battles, he would ultimately win the Grail War, obtaining the chance to make a wish to the "Holy Grail."
"To save humanity" that man would have made such a wish.
But the Fuyuki Grail system was already corrupted.
In the Third Grail War, the Einzbern family, desperate for victory, had broken the rules and summoned a Servant of a special class: "Avenger."
Their original aim was Angra Mainyu, the dark supreme god of ancient Persian myth, the source of all evil and darkness.
But the summoning went awry. What appeared was just an ordinary young man, unjustly branded by Zoroastrian villagers with the name "All the World's Evils."
The powers he possessed were only his own, not those of a true Heroic Spirit. Even as the Einzberns' Servant, he had no Noble Phantasm to wield. Thus, Avenger was defeated on the fourth day of the Third War.
Weak and slain early, Angra Mainyu's soul was nonetheless drawn into the Grail as per the rules, corrupting it.
The Third War ended as a "void match," because the Lesser Grail was destroyed mid-battle, leaving no victor. But the one result that persisted was the "corruption of the Greater Grail," which carried forward into every war thereafter.
The Grail, considered the omnipotent tool to grant a victor's wish, still functioned even after being tainted. But the way it granted wishes was twisted with endless malice.
For example: if someone wished that "humanity's future be freed from suffering," the Grail's malice would realize that in the most extreme, warped way, by annihilating humanity.
If no humans existed, then naturally suffering would vanish.
Kiritsugu entrusted his lifelong wish to the Grail, yearning to use its power to realize world peace. He believed that sacrificing the few to save the many was justified, a cold, rational creed that drove him forward.
But when he finally stood before the Grail and made his wish, the Grail's malice twisted his ideals beyond recognition.
The result shattered his faith completely. He realized that all he had chased was nothing more than a cursed illusion.
In the end, he destroyed the Grail. And along with it, his lifelong dream. But the Grail's taint did not vanish. Its curse continued to spread. What Kiritsugu gained was only endless despair and regret.
Dead inside, Kiritsugu remained in Fuyuki. He bought this residence and spent the rest of his life here.
But this time, none of that happened.
Before this Grail War began, the Einzberns made a different choice. They abandoned their alliance with Kiritsugu and chose another magus who better served their interests.
This single decision completely changed Kiritsugu's fate. He never joined this War, continuing instead to wander the world as the "Magus Killer," carrying out deadly assignments.
Earlier, when Shirou went to Europe to escort Sakura, he met Kiritsugu once and gave him a request: to eliminate a magus named "Lev."
Lev Lainur Flauros, his true nature was the human vessel of one of Solomon's seventy-two demons, the demon god Flauros.
On a certain future worldline, this very magus would spark the "Incineration of Humanity" event, leading to the world's destruction.
But as of now, Kiritsugu had already completed the task and killed Lev. Of course, he would never know what kind of existence he had truly dealt with.
Still, Kiritsugu had saved the world. Or at least Shirou could tell himself that, and let the Counter Force use that as reason to grant the man some small "blessings."
Now, the Emiya nameplate still hung at the Fuyuki house, but it was not Kiritsugu who had bought it. It was Shirou.
The residence still stood quietly in a corner of Fuyuki. The courtyard was no longer overrun with weeds but neatly tended, bamboo swaying, water trickling.
At that moment, in Shirou's vision, there seemed to be a thin, fading silhouette, the man who should have spent his last years here.
Their fates had diverged.
Kiritsugu still walked in darkness, carrying out his creed with blood and slaughter. But Shirou no longer clung to the ideal of being a "partner of justice."
Or rather, the man he was now was fundamentally incompatible with the very concept of "justice."
In many myths, there were indeed gods who held "justice" as their divine office or even as their main dominion.
Astraea in Greek myth, Forseti in Norse, Hachiman in the Far East. These gods of justice often held high authority and great might among the pantheon.
But "justice" as a concept could not serve as the foundation for a great creator god.
In this world, Kiritsugu would never meet Shirou.
And he would never have a daughter named Illyasviel von Einzbern.
This was not only true for this world.
Fate branched like rivers and trees, splitting into countless tributaries and forks as it advanced and grew. Every choice, every moment, could create a completely different world.
Yet the boy and girl who had crossed the Star Record, reaching back to the dawn of the world, had left their marks at the origin.
Existence unified, individuality converged.
At this moment, Shirou was essentially an outsider. His body and spirit were still Emiya Shirou, but to this world he resembled "Apsu," or perhaps a facet of some Ultimate One.
When Shirou descended into this world, its structure had already shifted. There was no longer a "Emiya Shirou." Nor was there any "Illya."
Having reached the Origin, causality reversed, logic unified, and all branches beyond were mere projections.
In this world, "Illya" had never existed.
More precisely, Shirou had "looked" for a long time, yet found no world where "Illya" existed.
The Illya who reached the Origin node had become lost within the Star Record, and all projections after that had sunk into obscurity.
Within the Record of the Stars, Shirou had seen traces Illya left behind.
Like him, Illya had returned too far back. Her existence was scattered by the flood of time, losing all direction across endless ages.
What testified to Shirou's existence were countless goddesses, Tiamat the Mother of Creation among them.
Even bound by rules, unable to wield divine power, their beings remained whole.
But beside Illya was only one "Gaia", not the true Earth Mother who birthed countless worlds, but merely the Counter Force of a single planet.
And it was in its weakest state, at the end of days.
Shirou closed his eyes, ceasing his observation. He rose, brushed his clothes, and turned to step inside.
The wooden sliding door shut slowly behind him with a soft sound. Inside, the lights were warm. The air held a faint cozy scent, stark against the chill outside.
In the dining room, light poured onto the long wooden table, casting a gentle glow. A clay pot of porridge simmered at the center, steam rising, the fragrance of rice filling the room.
Artoria Avalon sat by the table, hands folded on her lap, posture upright. Her golden hair shone smooth under the light.
She leaned forward slightly, her golden eyes shimmering with anticipation, like a small animal waiting to be fed. Her tone carried a hint of delight, "Shirou, is it time to eat?"
Shirou came out of the kitchen carrying the last dish. Hearing her, his lips curved in a small smile, and he nodded.
"Mm. Let's eat."
The table filled with steaming dishes: fragrant porridge with vegetables and beef; golden, crispy-grilled saury with lightly charred skin; stir-fried pork with chili releasing its tempting aroma; and a pot of glistening white rice.
The servings, both main dishes and sides, were all in large bowls and plates. For two people, even four, the amount seemed excessive.
But for Artoria, this was just right.
The moment the food was served, her eyes lit up. She picked up her chopsticks with elegance and grace, but her speed was astonishing. The dishes dwindled before his eyes at a shocking pace.
"Saber…"
"What is it, Shirou?"
Shirou chuckled softly. He reached out, brushed her lips with his thumb, and plucked away a stray grain of rice.
Without thinking, he casually popped it into his mouth, the motion so natural it seemed only right.
But Artoria's face instantly flushed. The tips of her ears turned pink, and her chopsticks paused.
"I… I'm done," Flustered, she put her chopsticks down and stood, her movements a little hasty. Her cheeks still burned red, golden hair swaying with her steps.
Saber almost fled the dining room in embarrassment, leaving behind only a light, lingering "Thank you for the meal."
Shirou watched her retreating back, saying nothing, calmly tidying the table.
To him, these small chores brought inner peace. His hands moved skillfully, stacking bowls, carrying them to the kitchen, turning on the tap. Warm water washed over porcelain with a soft sound.
It had been a month since the Grail War ended. These days, Shirou had simply lived a quiet life.
No battles. No formidable enemies. No conspiracies. Only the daily trivialities of cooking, cleaning, fixing old things in the house, sharing meals with Artoria, sometimes sitting on the veranda and gazing at the night sky.
These weren't wasted moments. Repeating these simple, familiar routines in the Emiya home did wonders for his stability.
The more memories tied here, the steadier his anchor to humanity became.
Artoria said nothing about it. She didn't ask questions. She simply stayed by his side.
She waited quietly at the table while he cooked; handed him tools now and then as he fixed the yard; sat beside him on the veranda, staring at the same sky.
Of course, maybe it was also because the food at the Emiya residence was simply too good, making her reluctant to leave.
In this joy, Camelot was forgotten.
Her footsteps came from the corridor. She didn't step into the kitchen, only stood at the doorway and spoke softly, "Do you need help?"
Shirou shook his head, placing the last bowl onto the rack. He turned toward her.
"No need, I've finished already."
Artoria nodded, "Then… I'll make some tea."
———
A few minutes later, the two sat on the tatami, each holding a cup of hot tea. Steam curled upward, forming a faint mist in the air. Shirou lowered his eyes to the reflection in his cup. The tea's surface quivered slightly.
Suddenly, a flash of light flickered in his gaze. Like a meteor streaking across the night sky, brief but brilliant. The tea rippled, and his reflection blurred.
"I see," Shirou murmured.
Because of the convergence and loss of his own existence, nearly every world's "Illya" had vanished without a trace.
But her origin, her past, that could not be denied.
Now, Shirou had found a world where "Illya" still existed.
Illyasviel von Einzbern, even without ever meeting, Shirou knew their fates were bound.
Artoria lifted her head, golden eyes tinged with curiosity, "What is it?"
Shirou stood, "I'm leaving."
Artoria immediately said, "Then, I'll go with you."
"…", Shirou didn't answer right away.
"You are my Master, after all," Artoria tilted her head.
Shirou smiled, "Alright. Let's go."
———
[Fuyuki City, Emiya Residence]
Red eyes, pale skin, silver-white hair… A cute ten-year-old girl pushed open the door.
"Onii-chan, I'm home~"