Standing before the Sanmon, the sole entrance to Ryuudou Temple, Emiya exhaled a long-held breath, the weight of the preceding violence finally catching up to him.
Steadying his breathing, he lifted his gaze toward the gate. The structure lay in complete ruin, a shattered testament to the ferocity of the clash that had just unfolded.
Amidst the debris of the collapsed mountain gate, a humanoid automaton lay broken and motionless, its mechanical functions seemingly extinguished by the carnage.
Emiya tore his gaze from the mangled wreckage, turning to Artoria and Hassan of Serenity.
"Are you both unharmed?"
Even as he spoke, he felt the question ring hollow. It took but a single glance to see that neither of them was in a state that could truly be called 'well.'
"I... I remain standing. However, Assassin is..." Artoria trailed off, her voice laced with concern.
"...."
While Artoria managed a weary nod of endurance, Serenity remained slumped upon the ground, her silence heavy.
Her condition was dire. Her form was riddled with wounds, the damage so extensive she could no longer even support her own weight.
The tragedy lay in the nature of her combat. Assassin's mastery was of poison, a craft designed to wither living flesh from within.
Yet their adversary had been an unliving thing—a creature of cold metal and inanimate sorcery. Against such a foe, her poisons were mere vapor.
Every desperate strike she had made to infect her target had been an exercise in futility, leaving her exposed to counterattacks that were as relentless as they were indifferent.
The result was the broken figure she now presented. Due to her uniquely toxic constitution, traditional healing was an impossibility; her very body rejected the reach of the King's chivalrous aid.
Artoria's expression darkened with conflict. As a knight, the thought of abandoning a comrade-in-arms was a stain upon her resolve.
Serenity, sensing the King's hesitation, finally spoke.
"...Leave me. Go forth."
"But—" Artoria began.
Serenity shook her head feebly, cutting her off.
"My Spiritual Core... it is cracked. I shall soon fade from this world regardless."
"...!"
Artoria and Emiya shared a sharp look of realization. A fractured Spiritual Core was a terminal sentence for any Servant. Even now, through the web of cracks, her prana was hemorrhaging into the air, a visible mist of departing existence.
She would dissolve back into the Throne of Heroes long before they reached the heart of the temple. Recognizing the inevitability, Artoria bowed her head in solemn respect.
"...I am sorry."
"Forgive us, Assassin. Farewell."
With those parting words, Artoria and Emiya sprinted toward the summit, their silhouettes blurring as they ascended. Serenity watched them go, eventually leaning her back against the rough bark of a nearby tree.
She turned her gaze toward the heavens. Stars shimmered across the velvet shroud of the night. Lowering her eyes, she watched her own hands beginning to fray at the edges into motes of light.
As the dissolution reached her wrists, her thoughts turned to Elius—the only man capable of knowing her touch without suffering the kiss of death. A profound sorrow touched her features.
She had only just found him. She had only just felt the warmth of a human soul after a lifetime of lethal isolation.
Staring at the moon as it peered through the celestial canopy, she whispered a silent prayer into the encroaching void.
A wish to meet him again, in another life, another time.
***
"Cough—!"
"Damn it..."
I had succeeded in closing the distance with Gilgamesh, yet my ultimate aim—his life—remained just out of reach.
I had not expected him to maintain the composure to manifest his Noble Phantasm even after being dragged forcefully into the debris of the building.
I clutched my side, where a blade had skewered me through. Blood flowed freely through my fingers as I glared at the King of Heroes.
Gilgamesh was in no better state. A jagged, deep laceration carved across his chest where my blade had found purchase, crimson staining his golden regalia.
It had been a strike meant for his heart. But he was not called the King of Heroes for nothing; even in that split second of chaos, he had twisted his frame just enough to keep his Spiritual Core intact.
Seeing my frustration, Gilgamesh let out a wet cough and curled his lip into a smirk.
"Hah... it seems We have been trifled with. Did you truly believe such a base ambush would lay Us low?"
"...Cough! To boast of your survival when your heart was but a hair's breadth from ruin... your arrogance is truly a marvel in its own right."
Spitting out a mouthful of blood, I forced myself to stand, using my sword as a makeshift crutch. I lifted my head to meet his gaze.
Gilgamesh sneered in response. Intending to bring this struggle to a final, overwhelming conclusion, he opened nearly a thousand golden ripples of light behind him, each shimmering with the promise of death.
—Is this the end?
Looking at the arsenal emerging from the ripples, I felt the cold brush of mortality and let out a hollow laugh.
"Ha... unleashing such a bombardment on a crippled Servant? Why not finish it with the sword from before?"
"...Hmph. You are not worthy of a death by that blade. Content yourself with being erased by a thousand treasures, and perish."
With his decree spoken, the golden ripples surged, and a hail of legendary weapons rained down with the intent to shred my very existence.
—I wanted to see Artoria's face one last time.
As the world turned to gold, I bowed my head in acceptance of the end... but then, a familiar voice cut through the roar of the oncoming storm.
"'Tis far too early to succumb to despair, Berserker!"
"[Rho Aias]!"
Seven petals of incandescent light bloomed in the space between Gilgamesh and me. I let out a genuine laugh as Emiya stepped into view, standing firmly before me.
"...You're late."
"Forgive me. We met some resistance at the mountain gate. More importantly—can you still move?"
"...Why? Are you looking for an excuse to rest?"
Emiya's eyes widened slightly at my barb before he gave a small, knowing smile.
"...Hmph. If you can still jest, you are well enough. Let us go. Are you ready?"
"Indeed. Try not to lag behind, Archer."
With a shared grin, we waited for the momentum of the bombardment to break against the shield of light. At the first sign of a lull, we lunged forward in unison toward the King of Heroes.
--------------------------------
The King does not understand the hearts of men.