In the end… There is only one option for what you do here. You swirl your grail idly in your hand, potential sloshing around inside it as you think back on the wars you have experienced. Nothing but death came from the war you were made for. No disaster on that scale happened here… but Vortigern alone scorched entire streets, and would have done worse had he reached the city in his true form. Then we have the demon… if that had reached land, had claimed the grail… You wouldn't be here. Nobody would.
All these wars bring to the world is death and greed.
They need to end.
"Izabetha." You turn to the wounded homunculus, seeing a spark of vigor slip into her tired frame at your attention. "You said that your family made these wars."
"Not alone… but yes." Izabetha sighs, the metal holding up her wounded leg sagging for a moment.
"Why?"
Izabetha goes silent for a while, her eyes glazing over as she stares at something far away.
"To recover what we lost… so long ago." She says, after a moment. Her voice is cold and old and not just hers. "We have no other purpose."
You remain silent, looking at her. That's not enough for you. A moment passes, before Izabetha continues- in her voice. "...It was supposed to save the world. 'To reach a world without evil, a place humans cannot reach… To find the salvation this world lacks.' That is our aim. That is why we must get it back."
You think for a moment…That's a better answer than you'd expect from any mage. You don't think she's lying either… the weakness in her body, the tiredness in her voice. Even if she hadn't been genuine with you during this war, there's an honesty in how beaten down she is. It's a good enough answer for you at least.
"Then I've got an offer." You say, watching her head snap up to meet your gaze. "I give you the core… and you make this the end of it. Not just you never making another war. Stop this from ever happening again. By anyone."
Izabetha's eyes widen as she stares at you in disbelief, fingers trembling. "That- would be a completely new- can you?- I-"
She stammers at you, her composure finally breaking. She's simply unable to believe what she's hearing even when every fiber of her being screams for her to take it. Her words are cut off as her entire body goes ramrod-stiff, and she looks at you with unblinking eyes.
"Prove your words are true" Izabetha's voice comes from her mouth… but it is not her words. It is something cold, old and deeply inhuman that speaks back at you with a voice from which all emotion has crumbled away.
"Fine- the first steps good enough?" You take the grail in your hands, feeling through it to the power within. The glowing grail-circuits on your body begin to flare up in sequence as you begin the work.
[Core isolation]
[Feeder circuit connection]
[Reservoir integrity]
[Activation primer]
[Core unit containment]
Concepts flash in your mind as you slowly, methodically begin the work of isolating and copying the glowing reactor core within yourself. Taking the mechanism meant to link to that missing thing, condensing it into a piece of raw potential… something primed, ready to be used.
A [Bullet].
You stop after the first step in the process, giving the thing speaking through Izabetha an expectant look.
"We are satisfied. Your offer is accepted. Contingent on the core proving operational, the Einzberns will prevent the establishment of further grail wars."
You glance at Ankaa as the Einzberns accept your offer. You think it's not a trick… but you just want to make sure. You'll rely on her eye for truth one last time. She nods, just a touch.
"Deal."
With that, you put your mind to finishing the task at hand, power swirling within you as you pour the power to change the world into something the size of a finger, your body burning fever-hot from the energy you channel.
Eventually, it is done, and you hold the [Bullet] in your hand. Its golden casing shines with its own light, etched with infinite patterns that feed into themselves endlessly. Its tip is fractal diamond, and its heart is the burning reactor core of the grail, ready to connect to the heart that lies half a world again.
It will open the way to something long lost.
It will open the way to a new world.
You glance into the grail where it lies in your hand; it's empty now, the power contained within the golden chalice spent in that act of creation. It dissolves into gold mist as you simply allow that manifestation to return to your body. You may have forged the core, and exhausted the power you held… but you are still a grail. That is something that nothing could ever change.
You wouldn't want it anyway. This is who you are.
You step forwards, and drop the bullet into Izabetha's waiting palm. She gasps, clutching it to her chest as if her life depends on it. "Thank you…"
Izabetha whispers- and it is her voice speaking, tears flowing freely from her red eyes. Eyes that can finally see an end to a duty that has lasted far longer than any vigil should last. With that, she lets herself slump forwards to her knees, no strength for anything but safeguarding what you gave her.
"What a wonderful use for your wish, Mimi." You hear Ankaa's voice from behind you, warm and bittersweet.
Your heart twinges as you turn, seeing her standing on the edge of the roof, staring into the rising sun.
You know what happens now.
"This needed to happen. Thank you- it'd have been much harder to make that offer if I didn't have you there."
Ankaa shrugs slightly, dismissing the deed as nothing worth mentioning. "You won't need my eyes any longer. Unless you have another wish to give away, my Mimi."
"As if."
You take a step towards Ankaa, a lump forming in your throat as you see the golden sparkles of light drifting from her wingtips.
"Together till the end." you whisper, Ankaa's wings drooping as she hears you speak.
"A Master has claimed the Grail and a wish has been made." She says, faux-formal as she shakes her head slightly. There's no way to pretend the war is still ongoing. Not for you. Not for her. "It's the end, Mimi."
"You- don't have to say it like that." You choke up as you speak, tears welling up at the corner of your eyes. You don't want it to be the end. You've loved these days. You've done things that you'd never dreamed of being able to do. You've met friends, earned freedom, let go of hate and become yourself.
You've gained everything you had ever wanted and some things you didn't even know about. Is it too much to ask that you could spend more time with the person who made it happen? So what if it's greedy… you don't want her to go. Even if you know it has to be this way. Maybe… you could have used the grail to keep her in this world. Or never made a wish, so the war wouldn't have ended- but you wouldn't have. Ending the wars forever… was more important than anything else.
"Sorry, Mimi... You know I'm bad at lying." Ankaa's voice is weak, a sad chuckle following her words. "Oh how I wish there was a way where this wouldn't hurt…"
With that, Ankaa turns to face you, the rising sun framing her face as she gives you a heartbreaking smile. Your heart aches at the pain in her eyes, but she's still giving you one last beautiful grin. Even if it's just to stop her from breaking down and sobbing. You know exactly the sort of smile it is. After all, it's the same one you're giving her right back. Pulling you into her embrace one last time, Ankaa whispers into your ear. "But you have done something wonderful here, Mimi- I know what the Einzberns lost… One day, the world will change. And it will be because of your choice."
Her lips give the faintest twitch of a smile when you can't see them, as the last secret she never told you runs through her mind. On that day… Just maybe…
With that, Ankaa pulls away, the sunlight starting to shine through her translucent body. You swallow the lump in your throat and force words out, trying desperately to not sob in your partner's final moments here. "This is- goodbye, then."
"It is."
"You- you know I'll miss you."
"But not forever." Ankaa shakes her head slightly, letting her vanishing wings go limp. "Not when you have others by your side…"
You've nothing you can say to that as Ankaa places a hand over her heart.. You're not sure if you can say anything anymore. Not without it all spilling out. And you're not going to spoil this moment with your tears. Ankaa's last sight of you won't be you breaking down and crying. It won't. It- It won't.
"I will miss you too, my Mimi." Ankaa wipes her eyes and keeps on forcing her smile as you force yours, so that neither of you are left with tears at this moment, even if it takes all you have to hold it in. "But it is okay… for I have no regrets. I have finally been part of your world, I have lived with you… But above all else, I have watched you grow beautifully, Mimi. I was summoned for your sake, and you have become radiant."
With a fading arm, Ankaa reaches out, ruffling your hair one last time. "So now I can leave you without regret or tears… As you no longer need me by your side."
Then she is gone, melting into the golden light of the dawn.
Leaving you alone with your tears.
At last, the Grail War has ended.
Immediately after the end of the war
Cold mist swirls around colder stone, in a lifeless, colourless world. Fog presses against the windows of this stone-built hall, walls and floor all made from the same gray rock. A plain hall with nothing in it but a door and a throne.
The door is cold iron, standing twice the height of a man. Arm-thick chains bind it closed, and a dozen spears pin it closed. The throne is the same cold stone as the rest of the hall, placed directly in front of the door. Featureless, decorless. No king would ever sit here.
Only one person ever has: The same person who lies upon it now, the only spark of colour in this place. A purple-clad woman lies sprawled on the throne, her hair falling down to tangle on the floor. Her eyes are shut, and a crimson spear impales her chest, pinning her to the chair.
She is motionless, without even the rise and fall of a sleepers breathing. She is dead.
Yet she is not: Violet eyes open, and Scathach reaches up with a lethargic hand to grip the spear in her chest. In an instant, she tears it from her body in a single bloodless motion. She stands, looks around the hall, and only then bothers to restart her heart with the barest shrug of effort.
Once again, she is greeted with the same empty hall that has remained unchanged for centuries. The same empty stone, the same sealed gate, and the same endless fog.
She is alive, which can only mean that the others were victorious. Her 'Master' and allies have prevailed. Death will have to come for her another time. Now, once more, she will return to her vigil, to guard this gate to the beyond until the never-to-happen day of her death. Her time playing the Servant was a distraction, a week of interest amid decades of mindbreaking tedium. But now is the time for duty. It is.
There's a certain discomfort in Scathach's movements as she settles back on her throne, spear resting in her lap. A certain dissatisfaction, a nagging itch like a loose tooth, bringing her mind back to it like a prodding tongue.
She had begun to train that boy, that 'Master'. He was many things. Scatterbrained. Inattentive. Obsessed with style over the basics of form… But he had enough of a spark of talent to be worth teaching. A level of talent rare for this era.
The thought of leaving his training incomplete… it itches at the back of her skull. She is Scathach, and legends have studied at her feet. To leave a students training unfinished is something she simply cannot accept. Scathach nods to herself as she stands, her spear grinding along the floor as she stalks towards the door at the entry to the hall. Yes, he will finish his studies.
Past the great stone entryway to her hall, Scathach ascends a narrow, spiralling staircase that ends in smooth rock. She presses a hand against it, before shoving, sending the entire wall of rock flying. Dust fills the air, along with a fresh cool breeze.
Stepping forwards, Scathach emerges into the ruins of Dun Scaith, standing amid the rubble of the collapsed cliff face that concealed the tunnel downwards. Clear blue sky greets her, along with the bright sunlight of a freshly-dawned day. How long has it been since she felt the wind on her face like this, felt grass underfoot? Too long.
She holds out a hand and whistles a bird-call into the dawn sky. She waits expectantly, idly scribbling a message on parchment with her free hand. Precise, perfect handwriting, artisanally elegant. An invitation.
Before long, an eagle swoops down, perching itself obediently on Scathach's hand. She whispers to it as she ties her message to its leg, and then it is off. It soars into the air, circling around the morning thermals, before it begins to fly south. To London.
Satisfied with her invitation, Scathach takes a seat on some fallen stonework, stretching centuries of stagnation from her body. It wouldn't do to be in anything other than peak condition for her new student's arrival. But should he fail to arrive in time… she will simply have to march to London and drag him back by the ankle.
For she is Scathach, and she will train Flat until she is satisfied.
Shortly after the war's end
"All in all… Well, the outcome could have been worse." Adashino sighs deeply from across the cafe table, idly stirring a cup of tea- not the illegally strong coffee she was drinking last time.
"You're satisfied with this outcome?" Even when you know Animusphere is untouchable." El-Melloi frowns from next to you.
"There is still a city, most of those responsible for this disaster are dead… and there are ways of putting a little pressure on your fellow Lord. Sanctions of his branches, no longer turning a blind eye to little lapses we would have let slip in the past. Just enough to send a message. Speaking of, thank you for killing Assassin first, Mimi," Adashino gives a half smile in your direction. "His Master was the rat we had in our department, so you took him out the game before he tried anything desperate."
You shiver as Adashino drags a finger across the wooden surface of the table, in a perfect throat-cutting motion. You're not going to ask about that.
"Anything else?" You ask, still in your seat, forcing yourself to meet Adashino's piercing gaze. To not glance at the empty space where you're used to Ankaa being.
"Not as far as business goes. Oh, but everything's in order for your formal admission. Not that there would ever be much doubt, with our mutual acquaintance backing you." Adashino tilts her head slightly in El-Melloi's direction.
"Already? Surprisingly straightforward of you." El-Melloi notes, pushing up his glasses.
"It's the least I can do for such a pivotal figure. Besides, new blood is a rarity in the Association. So I look forward to seeing where you go and what you do within our halls."
Adashino smiles as she looks at you, mentally classifying all the different ways in which you can be a piece in her schemes. But that is something you knew was going to happen. Your association with El-Melloi and your role in the war made sure you could never be a nobody. But it's better to be you, even if that draws attention. That's what Ankaa would say at least.
"We'll see what that is." Even if you're not sure where this path will lead you… it's your path that you chose. You'll figure things out, you'll understand things you didn't before, and live the life you picked, dealing with everything this life entails. This is the chance you were given. That road Ankaa helped you reach.
Adashino's about to respond to that, before she trails off looking out the shop window behind you. Visible in the window is the sight of Flat, flailing around as an eagle attacks him, flapping and screeching in his face. There's something tied to its leg.
"Oh for the love of-" El-Melloi springs up from the table, rushing outside to assist Flat.
"One last thing- Since you're sticking with El-Melloi… Help keep him alive, would you?" Adashino gives you a smug look from over the top of her glasses as you make to join him. "He's got a bad habit of making enemies… and he really is useful to have around."
With that, Adashino returns to her tea, visibly enjoying the sight of El-Melloi and you trying to pry the agitated eagle away from Flat. As soon as the parchment around its leg is removed, it takes off, flying into the air. Leaving Flat with a message he couldn't have expected.
Shortly after the war's end.
Cold winds blow around the castle in the springtime forest, last remnants of winter's chill still lingering here. White-clad guards man the gates, not that any casual intruder would pierce the wards that defend this place.
This is the seat of the Einzberns, and at its heart, Izabetha stands before her maker, ramrod-stiff as she remains motionless, standing in the center of a faintly glowing circle.
"We have reached our conclusion." A cold voice echoes in the room, near-monotone and with nothing but inhuman logic behind it. The old man sitting- plugged into the great throne at the end of this stone hall is a man who makes the wind outside look like a summer breeze. For he is Jubstacheit Von Einzbern, the heart of the network.
Gleaming gold, the bullet you made floats in the air in front of Acht. It has been assessed. It has been analysed. Observed in every way possible save from taking it apart physically. Obsessively studied… to find that it is exactly as it appears. The key to their purpose, freely given.
Izabetha has surrendered her prize, and she now awaits her judgement.
"You were expected to fail." Izabetha winces at the blunt assessment Acht gives her. "We had yet to succeed in a war that was under our control. This was not controlled. Your entry was but mere chance, as you happened to be in a position to intervene. You were not designed to be a Master or Vessel."
Izabetha remains silent, waiting for the moment when she may speak.
"You were expected to die. Yet here you stand victorious." Acht does not smile. A being as cold and old as he could never. But that is not to mean that he is dissatisfied. "You have finally brought the end of the task within our reach. Now, state your reasoning for urging us to deal with the vessel fairly. We accepted your choice as you were the one with the fullest knowledge of the situation. Now we will hear why."
"Because it was the right thing to do." Izabetha states, firm conviction in her words. "We seek a world without evil: To betray one who helped us at the very end would stain our principles, and the world we create. Furthermore, it was the practical course of action: We can spare the resources it would take to hunt down those who steal from us. Also, reneging on our agreement risks Mimi sabotaging the core."
And I couldn't bear to face them again if we betrayed them. A last, shamefully human thought flits through Izabetha's mind as she justifies her actions. She does not bother looking for a reaction in Acht's face. There would never be one.
"A human answer, and an Einzbern answer. As expected." There is no chuckle here, as you might expect if Acht was the human he bears the form of. "Your assessment is complete: Our analysis of Emiya-strain models is complete. "
Izabetha freezes, as she awaits her final judgement. This is what she was truly made for. To prove that her pattern is a worthwhile one. That more of the Emiya magecraft and features should be integrated into the Einzbern. If she has failed…. Then she is worthless, and will meet the fate of all worthless things.
"You have proven satisfactory in all regards but one: You are too human." Izabetha winces, heart pounding in her chest. "However, that has not affected your function. That is a trait that can be worked around, and is to be expected, given your makeup. The Emiya strain will remain a part of the Einzbern. Production has been approved."
A deep sigh slips from Izabetha's mouth as the tension drains out of her, as Acht gives her one last command.
"You are to return to your previous duties as our agent at the Association. Further our cause and magecraft however you see fit. This is an indefinite assignment."
Acht goes silent, and Izabetha is dismissed. She walks down the hall, passing by her near-identical sisters of various models. It's all she can do to not run, to jump for joy: This is everything she had hoped for, on those days where her natures tore at each other within her.
She can remain with the people she has grown to care for. Until the day the world changes.
Weeks after the war's end
A madman scribbles notes furiously in a cabin, high in the welsh mountains. It took some effort to get here, but this is work best done fast. Everyone with a hint of talent knew something happened in London. Something massive. But he has eyes in the river. He felt how it was used, a conduit for something far greater. Something he has to replicate. There's river-sources in these mountains. Start the change there, and it will convert itself for him. Harvesting the power.
The cabin creaks in the storm that rages outside, lightning charged with the excess magical power from your war, that slowly leaks out and returns to the world. That the mere byproducts of such a rite carry such energy is enough to send the cabin's occupants into fits of glee.
A pity for him, then, that he is so engrossed in his work that he fails to sense the unwinding of the wards surrounding this land, fails to sense the figures that stalk closer to his hideaway. Only when the cabin door explodes into debris and splinters does he notice, looking up to see a pair of figures rushing in towards him. Too late, however, to save himself, as a filigree blade parts his head and his shoulders, blood spraying across his frantic notes.
A pair of white-clad killers stand in the room, cold red eyes staring down at the corpse by their feet. Identical in dress, look and action. The only difference is that one has blood on their weapon, while the other does not. And with the reconstitution of those blades into the silver wire they were made from, even that fades.
They search the cabin in perfect synchronisation, searching to ensure the victim had not left any research somewhere that could survive their disposal.
This man was an amateur, dabbling with the merest scraps of their work. But it was still an attempt to steal the secrets of the Einzbern. To recreate systems that would lead to the creation of another false war, even if the man did not know that it would be the outcome.
They cannot allow it. The pact they made with the vessel cannot allow it.
So they have come as silver blades in the dark, the first of a new breed of Einzbern, leaving a burning building behind them as they vanish into the night.
The Einzbern's hold to their pact.
No more Grail wars may be allowed to happen.
Weeks after the war's end
Your alarm sounds, and you drag yourself out of bed blearily, unwilling to leave the comfort of your bed. But leave it you must, if only because you keep your alarm on the other side of the room for this very reason. Stumbling across your bedroom, you slam the alarm off and stagger into the bedroom. You squint your eyes shut as you yank the light cord, turning on the tap for a glass of water to help you wake up: you fumble around blindly as you wait for your eyes to adjust, finding the tap and filling the cup. You take a sip and pause, a thought slipping into your groggy brain: The mug here is ceramic. But you're drinking out of something made of cold metal.
You sigh, and force your eyes open to confirm your suspicions: As expected, sitting in your hand is a familiar golden chalice, filled with nothing more than ordinary tap water. Once again, you have simply and unconsciously manifested that part of yourself, as if it was nothing special. Which… in the end, it kinda is. It's just another part of you now. Why shouldn't you make use of it?
After a moment's pause, you chug down the water, letting the grail fade away into golden light. Then, once again, you peer into the mirror, and get a good look at yourself.
Brushing away growing blonde hair- you might need a haircut soon, now that you think of it, though the faint oil-rainbow sheen that remains there might take some explaining. But you look at yourself here and now: You see gold flecks glimmer within your green eyes, the bags beneath them fading with time. The handprint-burns that cover your body are still there and always will be… but there's colour in your skin now, so they stand out just a bit less. You'll always be pale, but it's a world of difference from the corpselike pallor you had when you were trapped in the archives. You no longer look like you woke up on the wrong side of dead.
You trace fingers over your body as you step into the shower.You're still skinny and on the frail side… and yeah, that's not going to change. But there's flesh on you now. You're not just skin and bones now. Give it a bit, and you'll pull off slender.
The warm water sends pleasant tingles over your skin as it splashes across your shoulders, running down your body, droplet trails mixing with the black lines of your veins and the faint golden grail-lines of your circuits. Those aren't going to go away anytime soon. Or ever. Your blood and soul are stained by the curses you once drowned in, that forever locked other types of magecraft away from you. That's just a fact. Similarly, the thin gold markings of the grail are here to stay: You became the complete grail and took its entirety into you. There's worse things that could've happened to you than just having its pattern tattooed into your soul. Besides, it looks better than the cracked glass pattern of your circuits before.
It's changed a bit, but all for the better. In fact, it's the best you've ever been.
So there's a smile on your face as you leave the shower and get dressed for the day, sticking to the same, slim-fitting style of clothes you'd liked when you went shopping with Kiara. You grab a quick breakfast, and you're all ready for the day ahead. But speaking of Kiara… You hum happily as the phone rings, darting over to pick it up.
"Good morning Mimi~" Kiara's silken voice drips into your ears as you put the phone to your ear, putting a smile on your face and a shiver down your spine.
"Hey Kiara~" You reply with a grin.
"So, you must tell me what you've been up to soon- oh, we can do the details later, now we're back in the country. But how've you been? Have you settled into your new place?"
"It's still a bit weird… having a place that's mine like this. But I'm liking it here- it's cozy. It's been a while since the last nightmare… so… I'm good. Even if I'm still expecting to see her when I look behind me."
"In time, that will fade Mimi. It's normal, when you part with someone who means that much to you. Some would say that the pain is proof of the meaning."
"I know- doesn't make it sting any less though." You sigh. "Still, it's been happening less than it used to. That's… something. At least."
"That is something, yes." You can almost feel the rub on your shoulder from Kiara there. "Have my gifts still been serving you well?"
"They have-" You nod. "I've been… trying to learn from the scrollcase. It's… close enough to a curse that I think I can learn how to do it myself. I'm getting somewhere as well- It can't do much yet, but I'm getting the hang of that… looping flow it has. That way it spirals in on itself."
You find yourself grinning as you fill Kiara on your most recent studies. It's a nice feeling, being able to talk about how things are going well. Knowing that you're making progress. It's a warm feeling.
"Well, you must show me your progress when we have some time together~ I'm sure I can give you some advice: The theory is one of mine after all." You can hear Kiara's smile as she gives you that invitation, a commotion coming over the phone in the background. "But there's someone else to speak with you here."
There's a moment of muffled noise over the phone, before a cheerful voice comes over the line.
"Hey hey, Mimi-Nee! We're back here now!" The peppy voice of Rose Sessyoin comes over the phone, starting off in broken japanese before swapping back to english. You can practically see the younger girl bouncing on her feet with her ponytail swaying behind her.
"Hey Rose. Did you like the flight?" Your voice catches a bit of Rose's cheer as you reply. How could it not, hearing her so happy? To hear your fellow vessel thriving like this, so soon after Kiara rescued her.
"Auntie Kiara got us first class seats, and it was all sooo luxurious."
"I bet that wasn't all you wanted to tell me, was it?"
"Nope, nee-chan!" Rose giggles at you. "She's said that everything's worked out just fine so I'm gonna get to go to a school with the Church. So I'm gonna get to be a nun just like Auntie! Though she's always giggling and saying 'maybe not exactly' when I say that."
"Maaaybe she's got a point there. What did you do in Japan anyway?"
"Oh, we went all over- Kiara said she knew all sorts of spiritual places there, and thought they might be able to help me remember things… though… I still can't remember the rest of my name." Rose's voice goes sullen. "Just Rose. There's still so much of it that's a blur before the pain."
You wince at that news. You… really hoped Kiara would find something for Rose there. She's not even in her teens yet, she doesn't deserve this. God you're glad Kiara managed to save her. Even if it was only her.
"I'm sorry. Is that why you wanted her name?"
"Yeah- She's been so kind, she's taken care of me- And she was so patient when helping me think about what I wanted to do. That's why I wanna be just like her."
"I'm glad you found that." You say, before catching sight of the time; you've got caught up here longer than you expected. "I'd best get going- I'm meeting Gray before classes start. See you soon, Rose."
"Later, Mimi-nee!"
With that, you put down the phone and quickly grab your bag, making sure your training clothes are in it: You've got combat training again today after all. There's a lot more punching in being a mage than you'd expected. Or, well… getting punched, in your case. Turns out not being able to do any reinforcement does put you at a disadvantage. Still, you've got a few plans for how to get them down to your level. You;ve just got to get to learn the things you need to learn. Maybe you should've gone with Flat up to Scotland, Scathach would know exactly what you need. And… then some.
But… It's thrilling, your time here. You've got so much to do- so much to learn. You're only at the starting line compared to your classmates. But that doesn't mean you can't stand out in your own way. You've got some tricks that they can't match, after all. They're not bad people either- better than you expected from mages, really. So you're getting on with some of them. You're making friends. It's just that in a few ways, you're also rivals.
And it's not a bad feeling at all, when you're both feeling the heat of competition.
So there's a grin etched on your face as you lock the door behind you and head out into the city, ready for another busy day
You are Mimi Yagami. You are a Magus, and you are free.
Years after the war's end
Magic fills the cavern's air, deep beneath the mountain temple. A stone pillar stands at the center of the chamber, surrounded by a mechanism of dizzying complexity. At last, the repairs have been completed. Excision. Replacement. Regrowth. Cauterisation. All these and a hundred deeds more, needed to return the work to its full glory, pure and untainted. But it is done.
This place was where this story began, when the three founders made their pact. Where they vowed to risk their lives to exclude evil from the world.
That was long in the past, over half a millennium ago. But today, they are reunited: A woman in white stands here, bearing a golden [Bullet]. A masterpiece of the Einzbern, made as the vessel for this moment alone.
On her left, a husk of a man leans on his cane to the buzz of insects, kept alive by will alone. At long last, he will see the moment that he has done everything to reach.
To her right, a young woman stands, dark hair reaching down her back as she holds a dagger firmly- in the moments where the torchlight shines off it, it looks like it's made of gemstone and starlight. This is her land, and she will see her family's work done.
Here and now, this story ends. Here and now, for the sake of a world without evil, what was lost will be regained.
The world will not be perfected in this instant. It will take time to become used to the new world. There may be new conflicts in it, that would not have happened in the old. But the world will be different, and there are evils of the old world that will not exist in the new.
The Einzbern approaches the altar, whispering to her ancient sister within. She connects herself to the slab, linking her mind and body and soul to the heart of the ritual. The [Bullet] is connected, sparks of infinite power shining at its heart as the rite becomes complete.
The [Bullet] is loaded, and all is ready.
The trigger is pulled, and the world is forever changed.
