Valkrath brought down his spear, holding it before him. The weapon glowed, thrumming with a warmth that bordered on reverence, as if it recognized the hand that gripped it.
"Long time no see, Ira Solis."
His voice was calm, his orange eyes tracing the weapon's length with the familiarity of an old friend.
Ira Solis was no mere spear. It was a divine weapon forged in the core of the sun itself, condensed over millions of years, the power of a star compressed into a single, burning point.
"I see." Kartalan's voice carried across the ruined sky. "You've finally taken out your Divine Weapon." He laughed, a sound like grinding stone. "But it won't be enough. I've killed dragons before. Those who possess the power to destroy the entire world down to its very core…" His grin widened. "They cry like men."
"Then you have killed nothing worthy of the name."
Valkrath's voice came low and cold, yet beneath it simmered something vast and terrible, dangerous as the sun itself.
"Hahahaha." Kartalan's laughter scraped against the air. "You think you're worthy enough to kill me?" He spread his arms wide, an invitation. "I'd like you to try."
On the mountain ridge, Darion watched from afar. His hearing-enhancing gadget transmitted every word, every breath. A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Next time," he murmured to the device, to no one, "I'd like to try using you."
---
High above, Valkrath's grip tightened on Ira Solis. His knuckles paled. Without a word, he drew back his arm and hurled the spear toward Kartalan with the full force of his being.
Kartalan simply smiled.
Sayaka opened her mouth to scream, but her voice came too small, too thin, swallowed before it could exist.
Then the world vanished.
Light erupted, not as light, but as presence. A radiance so absolute it ceased to be visual and became instead a condition of reality, as if the sun itself had descended and pressed its face against the earth. Everyone, everything, was swallowed in that incandescence.
When the light finally receded, Sayaka stood in a place that was no longer a place.
The boulder she had hidden behind was gone. The mountain was gone. She turned, slow, disbelieving. The Australian continent had ceased to exist. Mount Fuji, Japan, the arc of nations that lay within that radius, all of it, simply erased, as though a god had taken an eraser to the map of the world and dragged it across without care.
And yet, amid that impossible annihilation, Sayaka stood untouched. Not a scratch. Not a burn. Not even dust on her clothes.
She could not speak. Her lips parted, but no sound came. She only stared at the hollow where a continent had been, her mind refusing to hold what her eyes were seeing.
Valkrath descended, touching down before her. His boots crunched on scorched stone. She looked at him, and her vision began to blur at the edges, darkness creeping in from the corners. Her knees buckled. Before she fully lost consciousness, she felt his arm wrap around hers, catching her before she could fall.
---
Sayaka woke with a gasp, shooting upright.
Sweat slicked her face, her neck, her palms. Her chest heaved as though she had been running, drowning, burning. She looked around wildly and found herself on a hilltop, grass swaying in the cold wind. The breeze caught her hair, lifted it, sent a shiver crawling down her spine.
"You're awake."
Valkrath sat beside her, legs folded, his orange eyes fixed on the horizon. He did not look at her.
"Where's the Berserker?" Her voice came raw, scraped.
His jaw tightened. "They're gone."
"What do you mean, they're gone?"
"The Berserker and his master survived."
"H-how—" Her voice cracked. "How could they survive after that?"
"Authority." Valkrath cut her off, his voice flat. "A conceptual power. Every Servant in the War of Eclipse possesses one." He paused, letting the weight of the word settle. "The Berserker Kartalan's Authority is Consumption. The more damage he takes, the stronger he becomes. It prevents him from being killed in a single blow."
Sayaka's hands curled into fists against her thighs. "If we can't kill him in one attack, how do we defeat him at all?"
"Next time." Valkrath's eyes narrowed toward the rising sun. "We will defeat him. The closer we draw to the War of Eclipse, the stronger every Servant becomes. Right now, we can only use a fraction of our true power." His voice dropped, a promise carved from certainty. "By the time I have most of mine, I will erase his conceptual existence entirely."
Sayaka's eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat. Only a fraction. The words came out as a whisper, barely audible even to herself. Only a fraction of that.
"Aren't you scared?" Valkrath asked.
"What do you mean?"
He finally turned to look at her. "I destroyed a continent in front of you. Most summoners, after seeing that kind of power, would be too terrified to continue."
Sayaka was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was low, but steady. "I'm scared." She swallowed. "But not like before."
Valkrath studied her then, not as a master studies a servant, but as something else. Something examining. Weighing.
"I lost everyone I loved six months ago." The words came out raw, pulled from somewhere deep. "A car accident. My mother and brother… I was on the phone with them when it happened." Her voice tightened, the edges fraying. "I heard the horns. The screaming. People calling for ambulances. And I couldn't do anyth—"
"You want to bring them back."
It was not a question. His eyes had gone cold again, but not distant. Focused. Like a blade being drawn.
"Yes."
"The Eclipse can grant any wish." Valkrath spoke slowly, each word deliberate. "Not omnipotence. It has limits. But the dead can live again. Fallen spirits can rise. Even concepts themselves can be restored." He paused. "What are you willing to do for that?"
Sayaka met his gaze and did not look away.
"Everything." Her voice did not shake. "Even if I have to kill. Even if I have to destroy the world. I'll do it. I'll win this war."
A smile spread across Valkrath's face—slow, sharp, and genuine.
"Now you're speaking like a real summoner." He inclined his head. "Every summoner in this war is selfish. No one fights for the world. No one fights for good. They think only of themselves, because they know their wishes can be made real." His eyes held hers. "And you are the same."
He stopped. Then, deliberately, he extended his hand toward her.
"The Eclipse has bound me to you. I cannot refuse your orders." A pause. "Now tell me. How will you use the power in your hand?"
Behind him, the moon was sinking. The sun crested the horizon, spilling gold across the hill, across them both.
Sayaka looked at his outstretched hand. A smile touched her lips, small, but real.
"I'll use it as I want to. So I can make my wish come true."
She reached out and took his hand.
His palm was warm, almost hot, the skin rough with old calluses. Hers was cooler, softer, but her grip held firm.
"Let me remind you once more." His voice was quieter now. "The War of Eclipse is not a normal war. Your life is in constant danger. If you are killed, you will not pass to any afterlife. Your existence will be erased. While us spirits will return to the Root."
Sayaka pulled herself to her feet, steady now. "I understood that the first time." She looked down at him, the rising sun at her back. "You don't need to teach me." A breath. "I'll win this war if I can. And if I can't…" She shrugged, though there was nothing careless in the gesture. "Then I'll let myself be forgotten."
Valkrath rose to stand beside her. For a moment, he simply looked at her and on his face was a smile unlike any before. Unforced. Warm, even. Genuine.
The sun crested fully now, its light washing over them both, painting the world in shades of gold and fire. Below, the scarred earth stretched silent and waiting.