"El-Melloi?"
When Shirou Emiya asked about the tall, thin man at the door, Rin Tohsaka lowered her hand, from which her Command Seals had been glowing faintly. For some reason, this man looked incredibly familiar.
He had long, silky hair that reached past his waist—more lustrous than most women's—and though a noticeable chunk was missing, his overall appearance was striking. His features were sharply defined, and dressed in a fine, though slightly worn, suit, he had the air of a refined English gentleman. Yet the perpetually displeased look on his face kept anyone from labeling him a "handsome guy."
He also carried an inexplicable aura of exhaustion, like the whole world owed him money. His heavy dark circles under his eyes made Rin—who was particularly sensitive to that kind of thing—suspect that maybe he too was strapped for cash.
She vaguely recalled seeing him during one of the fake priest's magecraft lectures. (Magecraft lectures didn't necessarily teach spells; some were general introductions to the world of magecraft.)
"Lord... Lord El-Melloi II?! Wait, you're the head of the Modern Magecraft Department—the El-Melloi faction—at the Clock Tower?!"
As the realization dawned, Rin nearly stopped breathing.
Was this a joke? One of the Twelve Lords, the topmost elites of the Mage's Association, had come all the way to this remote Eastern corner for something as "minor" as a summoning ritual?
Every new opponent that appeared seemed more ridiculous than the last. At this point, Rin had pretty much given up on winning the Holy Grail War. She'd settle for just staying alive.
But then...
Feeling the weak and utterly ordinary flow of mana from this visitor, Rin was stunned. There was none of the overwhelming presence one might expect from a high-ranking magus. Was her sense off? Or was she simply too weak to perceive his power?
Unable to stop herself, she blurted out, "You're really a Lord? Your mana is ridiculously low...."
"...."
Rin's wide eyes stared intently at the man in the doorway. In her moment of shock, her traditional talent for awkward timing struck again. She completely missed the latter half of his crucial intel about the Holy Church.
"That's what you're focusing on right now?"
Waver Velvet—Lord El-Melloi II—sighed, stunned. His voice was laced with weariness.
"Shouldn't the real concern be that the Holy Church, the designated overseer of this war, was attacked and leveled to the ground?"
"If my intelligence is correct, the priest assigned to the Church here—Kirei Kotomine—was your father's apprentice. That would make him your guardian, yes...?"
To be honest, Rin's reaction had Waver second-guessing himself. Was the intel wrong? Weren't Kotomine and Rin supposed to be close? This was the man who took over after her father's death—shouldn't she care more?
Could it be there were some irreconcilable tensions between Kotomine and the Tohsaka heiress after he took over control of the Fuyuki leyline and the local magical affairs?
Family feud? Hidden betrayal? Suddenly Waver remembered the last Holy Grail War ten years ago. The way Tohsaka Tokiomi—the then Master of Archer, Heroic Spirit Gilgamesh—had exited the war seemed oddly abrupt.
"It's fine. I doubt Kirei would die so easily. Probably just another one of his faked deaths."
Rin chuckled dryly, brushing off her earlier slip. She quickly straightened up, patted imaginary dust from her skirt, and gave the modern magecraft lord a perfect lady's curtsy.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lord El-Melloi II."
"Sigh... if Father Kotomine were still alive, his cooperation would make things much easier for me...."
Seeing this, Waver gave a small nod and chose to shelve the topic of the Tohsaka family's internal matters. He let out a soft sigh, meeting the bright, youthful eyes of the girl before him. A faint crease formed at the corner of his eye, and his dark gray irises took on a solemn gleam.
"Head of the Tohsaka family, to speak plainly: your teacher had no chance of faking his death and escaping. He was surrounded by five Servants."
"What?! Five Servants?!"
Rin's voice suddenly spiked in pitch.
"That's why I came to find you. Let's talk—this will also be an exchange of information. I want to know what exactly happened in Fuyuki City after the end of the Holy Grail War ten years ago...."
Waver paused for a moment, then gave a wry smile at the girl's dumbfounded expression. "Am I not being invited in?"
"Oh! My bad. Please, come in."
"Much obliged."
Seeing this, Saber too realized that the visitor wasn't a threat—at least not for now. She still wore her armor, but she lowered her invisible sword. But then—
"You three... it's fine. Negotiations are successful. Currently, we are not enemies."
The words from Waver made Saber tense again, stepping in front of Rin and Shirou with caution in her eyes.
"Come on, Saber, don't be so uptight. Didn't the Lord say already? He's not our enemy."
"Lancer?! What are you doing here?!"
Particles of spiritrons gathered, and a red spear rested casually on his shoulder as the blue-clad, sharp-eyed Cú Chulainn appeared behind Waver. Same mischievous eyes, same cocky tone—he was the Lancer who had clashed with Rin and Shirou before.
"What am I doing here? My Master's dead, so I made a contract with this Lord fellow."
Seeing their reactions, Lancer simply grinned. He stretched nonchalantly, then even made a move like he was about to fight, purposefully aggravating Saber and the others.
"Yo, redhead kid. Still kicking, huh? We might be allies now, but I bet you can take a beating...."
"Alright, Lancer, stop provoking them."
"Tch. This isn't provoking—just a normal greeting. Saber's just too rigid."
Next to Lancer appeared Ruler—Jeanne d'Arc. Her presence alone was enough to cool things down. Her ocean-blue eyes radiated calm and her soothing voice brought ease to even the most anxious hearts.
"Oh, cough... Saber, is that you? Long time no see!"
The voice was weak, but still tried to sound cheerful. A final figure stepped into view.
Golden hair, chiseled features, eyes the color of fresh blood—brilliant and arrogant. The man's smirk and noble bearing screamed superiority with every gesture.
But his condition... was wretched.
In a word: ruined.
His golden armor was shattered. His messy bangs covered bruised skin. His bare upper torso was covered in dark contusions, gashes, and scars—none of which had fully healed.
Most horrifying of all was the massive wound stretching from shoulder to abdomen, emitting a strange violet-red energy. The particles spread slowly, corrupting every nearby cell. A faint corrosive sizzle echoed from the festering gash.
Just looking at him hurt. One could only imagine the kind of agony the man was enduring.
Injuries of this magnitude would likely spell the end for most Servants, let alone ordinary people. And yet, he still wore a proud smile—albeit clearly weakened and quite the sorry sight.
"Gilgamesh?! It's you—how are you even..."
"Yo, Saber. After all these years, our reunion is just as promised."
Apparently very satisfied with Saber's stunned reaction, Gilgamesh's pale face stretched into an ever more brazen grin.
"Saber, become this king's queen. I shall grant you pleasures unmatch—"
"I refuse!!"
"Oh?"
A golden ripple aimed at Saber. Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from within.
"King Gilgamesh!?"
...
In the living room, the table was neatly set. Plates, utensils—perfectly aligned.
The aroma of hot pot filled the air; grilled salmon with mushrooms and butter gave off a crisp, golden sheen; spring chirashi sushi bore colors of jade, its rice paper thin as gossamer—everything looked divine....
But then why was the atmosphere so awkward?
Some focused solely on eating, some whispered quietly, others... were busy reconnecting.
Even the blue-clad, spear-wielding Lancer was aggressively inhaling food, while Saber—normally the first to dig in—sat beside Shirou with a solemn expression.
"Saber, from what I understand, Servants are heroic spirits recorded in the Throne of Heroes after death, summoned during Holy Grail Wars. They shouldn't retain memories of past summonings once they return to the Throne—right?"
Sitting nearby, Rin leaned close to whisper in Saber's ear.
"Rin, before I became a Heroic Spirit, I did not die. I think... that's what makes me different. Perhaps that's why I retain memories of the Holy Grail War."
Artoria was unique.
Most heroes become Heroic Spirits only after death.
But Artoria became one before she died—participating in the Grail War without ever leaving her time axis. Only after obtaining the Grail or fulfilling her wish would she finally pass on.
In other words, Artoria became a Servant while still alive.
"Eh? There's more like that...?"
"That much, Rin... I'm not too sure about either."
At the far end of the table—
"Master Waver!" ×2
"I told you, my name is Waver Velvet. Or Lord El-Melloi II will do."
Facepalming, Waver sighed deeply as he looked at Fujimaru and Mash's starry-eyed expressions.
"I've gotten the gist: parallel worlds, time anomalies, the future... time paradoxes give me a splitting headache."
"And no matter how many times I hear it, it's still hard to believe. Me—a third-rate mage—actually became a Heroic Spirit...? That you, Fujimaru, summoned me in the future to act as your mentor alongside Mash."
"Isn't that splendid, fool."
Golden hair spiked like flames, Gilgamesh reclined on the couch. He gave a sidelong glance at the weakling he had once spared, then slowly shook his head.
"To become a Heroic Spirit shows that even after my mercy, your loyalty and resolve never faltered. Weak of talent, yet you still stubbornly carved your path to heroism. Commendable!"
"For Iskandar to gain a vassal like you after death... that alone makes his participation in the Holy Grail War worthwhile. Hahaha..."
"Waver, was it? If you wish to avenge your king, this king welcomes it anytime."
"No need for now."
Wiping at nonexistent cold sweat, Waver paused before asking, "King Gilgamesh, are your injuries alright?"
As one of the rare survivors to witness Gilgamesh's overwhelming might in the Fourth Holy Grail War, Waver naturally wanted to secure such a powerful force for their side. After all, the oppressive despair brought by the rule-breaking summoning of an Outer God weighed on him like a mountain.
"These wounds may appear grave, but they're merely superficial. Only this scythe-inflicted gash—its corruptive energy is so insidious that even the elixirs within my treasury have trouble expelling it. Recovery will require time."
Gilgamesh's expression turned serious as he answered Waver.
Last night, at the Holy Church in Shindō Station, he and Kotomine Kirei had been observing the battles erupting across Fuyuki through magical familiars. With wine in hand and smug commentary at the ready, they were enjoying the show...
Then they were ambushed.
While Cú Chulainn held off one attacker, Gilgamesh attempted his usual smug provocation—only to be completely outmatched in verbal barbs by a woman even more venom-tongued than him. Compared to her insults, being called a "mongrel" was polite.
What came next... was classic Gilgamesh: overconfident and careless.
Though he'd sensed her menacing aura, the King of Heroes underestimated her until she got close. Then came the beatdown.
Fists, kicks, staffs, whips, spears, swords, chained blades, greatswords... one after another, every weapon in the book was used to pummel Gilgamesh.
Fortunately, he had at least summoned his armor, elixirs, and defensive barriers from the Gate of Babylon. Had he stayed in his usual casual attire and relied only on flashy Noble Phantasms, he'd likely have been beaten to death.
Realizing the situation had escalated beyond his control, Gilgamesh got serious and managed to turn the tide into a stalemate. Still, the fight was humiliating. Cú Chulainn was pinned down by another woman. Kotomine only had time to use two Command Spells before getting gravely injured.
Every time Gilgamesh tried to unleash Enuma Elish, she interrupted him. Even the Chains of Heaven failed to bind her agile movements.
Just when he finally created enough distance to regroup, a new enemy arrived—a beautiful woman clad in icy blue armor. She ambushed him, inflicting the cursed wound that still plagued his side.
If not for Waver and Ruler Jeanne d'Arc arriving in time, both he and Lancer would've died on the spot.
As dawn broke, the enemy retreated. But Kotomine, gravely wounded, was taken with them.
Gilgamesh had never suffered such humiliation. That madwoman who kept calling herself a fairy or immortal or whatever... the King would not forget.
"Oh, right! King Gilgamesh, could you use your Sha Naqba Imuru—your all-knowing, all-seeing star—to investigate that Foreigner's true form? The one possessing both Gorgon's and Tiamat's powers."
Ritsuka Fujimaru looked toward Gilgamesh with hopeful eyes.
"Oh? So even you know about my all-seeing wisdom? You must be quite close to... that one. No wonder you looked familiar the moment I laid eyes on you."
"It's a good idea—but right now, it's impossible," Gilgamesh replied flatly.
"What? You can't?"
"This body," Gilgamesh replied, "is a vessel created through the Holy Grail, summoned under the Archer class. It isn't true resurrection. As a Servant, the Archer-class version of me doesn't possess Sha Naqba Imuru—the Omniscient Omnipotent Star."
"Not necessarily, Gilgamesh."
"Who are you?"
The sudden interjection made Gilgamesh frown with irritation.
"It's me. Romani Archaman."
A soft blue holographic screen blinked to life in front of Ritsuka Fujimaru. On it appeared a man with a ponytail of orange hair, his sharp eyes fixed firmly on Gilgamesh.
"You...."
For some reason, Gilgamesh shuddered at the way the man looked at him. There was something eerie about that gaze. It felt strangely familiar.
"I have an idea—one that might allow the memories of the wise king Gilgamesh from the Seventh Singularity to synchronize with you."
Romani ignored Gilgamesh's suspicious and contemplative stare, instead shifting his focus to Jeanne d'Arc, who was quietly focused on eating nearby.
"Lady Jeanne, if you're willing, I would like to ask for your cooperation."
Then, turning back to Ritsuka: "Ritsuka, do you remember the bond you forged with King Gilgamesh during the Seventh Singularity?"
"Doctor Romani, you mean... summoning a Servant?"
Years of shared crisis had bred perfect understanding. Ritsuka immediately grasped the plan.
"Exactly. Using you as the catalyst, this Gilgamesh as the vessel, and Jeanne's Revelation as the medium."
"Is that... even possible...?"
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