The clash between Cain and Gilgamesh was still shaking the horizon, the sound of steel and divine treasures tearing through the air in rapid succession. Each impact sent tremors across the battlefield, and even at this distance, the ripples of their power were tangible.

Edward finally arrived near the location where the other nightmare was unfolding. The battle between Solomon and Zouken Matou, whose decrepit body had been completely overtaken by Pale Rider's consciousness.

Edward reached the heart of the devastation. The ground here was lifeless, blackened, and fractured as if the earth itself had been scoured by centuries of war in moments. There was no grass, no air that felt alive. Only the lingering miasma of Pale Rider's curse, twisting the corpses of the dead into abominations.

In the center of it all, the form of Pale Rider, no, Zouken Matou, stood, but his face and movements were entirely wrong. Animated now as the will of Pale Rider, the false Rider-class servant of Pestilence.

Across from him, the figure of King Solomon, Grand Caster, stood calm yet unyielding, his staff raised, the air shimmering with countless concentric magical circles ready to descend judgment.

The land here was no longer the city it once was. Entire blocks had been flattened, the soil scorched and cratered, and structures reduced to skeletal remnants. There was no trace of life—no grass, no birds, no animals.

The only moving shapes were the countless twisted, misshapen human thralls wandering aimlessly, their skin gray and rotting, eyes hollow and blackened. The stench of death clung to the air, heavy and oppressive.

The very sky seemed dimmer here. Edward sensed a few more presence nearby and headed there first.

Scathach and Emiya had been locked in their own duel earlier, but the expanding zone of Pale Rider's plague had changed the field entirely. The black miasma hung in the air like a choking fog, eating away at body and spirit alike. Even the most battle-hardened Servants could feel their spiritual cores strain under its curse. Ritsuka and Rin were the ones who bore the brunt of it. Merlin protected Ritsuka, but Rin wasn't so fortunate.

Rin, though a skilled magus, was still human. The infection ravaged her body, twisting her form in grotesque agony. Her breath came in broken gasps as her skin discolored and veins bulged black beneath the surface. The flesh along her arms had begun to twist into unnatural shapes, and her eyes glistened with the beginning of corruption.

She gasped for air, the words leaving her lips barely more than a whisper:

"Archer... Kill me... before I lose myself." Tears fell from her eyes, unwilling to die like this before restoring her family's glory.

Emiya stood over her, face locked in the same stoic resignation he had carried all his life. He knew this moment too well, the point where no miracle remained, where even the best possible choice was a sin.

His eyes were steady, but the sadness in them was unmistakable. His twin swords dissolved into motes of golden light, reforming into the pure edge of Kanshou. With a single, fluid motion, he swung. The sound was clean, merciful, and a strike without hesitation, but not without grief.

Her head fell, and for an instant, Rin's face was peaceful again. Emiya let the weapon vanish and spoke softly, almost to himself:

"Sorry, Rin… It seems I've failed you yet again. I guess I still remain a failure, even after going through everything."

His form was beginning to fade, dissolving into the countless golden motes that marked a servant's departure. The Black Plague couldn't claim what was already returning to the Throne.

Ritsuka's voice trembled as she stepped forward. "Archer-san… I'm sorry I couldn't help you. But I promise… I'll fix this world. I won't stop until I change this end."

Emiya gave her a faint smile. "Thank you… last master of humanity." His eyes drifted past her, settling on the figure that had just arrived.

Edward, walking with an unshaken calm despite the devastation around him.

"I hope you can stop this mess before it ends humanity." Emiya said.

Edward exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking to where Cain and Gilgamesh were tearing apart the skyline in their duel. "I'll try my best, Shirou. Leave the rest to me. I hope you can find peace… no matter how little it might be."

The fading Archer, no, Shirou Emiya, let out a short breath that might have been a laugh. "Peace was never an option the moment I walked this path… but I thank you, Grand Ruler Adam."

With those words, he was gone. The motes of light scattered on the wind, leaving only the sound of distant battle.

Edward turned to Ritsuka. "Ritsuka-chan, it's best if you leave. What's about to happen… no human should have to witness it."

Ritsuka's hands tightened into fists. "What will you do, Adam-san?"

His back was already to her as he started walking toward the battlefield. His voice was quiet, but it carried over the stillness between explosions. "I'm about to end it all."

There was another set of footsteps behind him. Edward turned slightly, an eyebrow lifting. Scathach was following without hesitation.

"Why are you coming?" he asked hesitantly. "You'll die… or worse."

Her answer was immediate, her tone certain. "I have been waiting to die for a long time. Perhaps this is how my wish will finally be fulfilled."

Edward frowned. "Why wish for death now? You've finally left your own prison. You should go and live your life in happiness… experience what life really is."

That earned him a small but beautiful smile. One that, even in the midst of all this carnage, made his heartbeat quicken. "Maybe… If we make it past this, I'll do so. Would you be willing to accompany me to experience it?"

He looked away. "Why would you want me to? I thought you hated my guts."

She didn't slow her pace, her eyes fixed ahead. "You're a fool. Someone has to make sure you don't do something stupid."

Edward allowed himself a wry smile, the briefest flicker of warmth before the looming chaos ahead. They continued walking, their footsteps crunching on the dry, lifeless soil.

Behind them, Merlin was still watching from a safe vantage, rubbing his temple in irritation. "Stupid, charismatic heroes… making people fall for them without even trying. Why does he get the beauties, while I get locked in Avalon? The world is so unfair…"

Ritsuka's voice was tight with worry. "Are they going to be alright, Merlin-san?"

Merlin sighed heavily. "No. They probably won't be coming back. This… this is the climax of the story, Ritsuka-chan. Only the end remains to be seen."

She almost shouted. "Then can't we do anything? Adam-san and Scathach-san… They're putting their lives on the line, and I'm just standing here! I can't do anything to help!"

The magus of flowers placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ritsuka-chan. This is the problem with heroes… They never get a happy ending. The world seems intent on giving them tragic backstories. No wonder the Grail Wars keep happening; almost every Servant has a wish they'd use it for."

Her eyes lowered. "…What is a hero, truly?"

Merlin straightened dramatically, gesturing with exaggerated flair. "Heroes are idiots. Idiots who act against logic and reason, who try to do the impossible. Slaying dragons. Erasing gods. Saving entire nations. Carrying burdens that would break anyone else. Pulling a sword from the stone. These are the kinds of acts we call 'heroic.'

That's why they're revered… why people put them on a pedestal. Because they achieved the impossible.

But the moment they do those things, they stop being human. They become symbols. And the world… well, the world has a way of punishing symbols with tragedy, because they go against the natural order. That's the fate of a hero."

Ritsuka didn't respond. Her gaze was fixed on the distant flashes where Cain's invisible movements met the golden rain of Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon.

Her hands pressed to her chest, holding on to that one fragile hope that somehow, despite everything, a miracle could happen.

That maybe, just maybe… They could find a happy ending.

(Oh my sweet summer child, The abyss doesn't have a happy ending.)

*****

As Edward walked forward, the air itself seemed to resist him. Scathach followed closely, her footsteps silent on the cracked and twisted earth, her presence as measured and assured as ever.

The world around them had begun to warp under the influence of two colliding reality marbles — the barren, cursed wasteland Cain had created in his encounter with Gilgamesh, and the flattened, chaotic remnants of Zouken Matou's apocalyptic field. Mana from both clashed overhead, sending crackling arcs of energy that turned the sky a roiling, unnatural hue.

Edward did not glance back. His voice, calm but carrying the weight of command, cut through the distant screams and the crackle of raw magical energy. "Are you sure you won't reconsider? I won't be able to protect you once it starts."

Scathach snorted, the sound cutting through the tension. "Look at you being so gentlemanly after what you did to me. I'm not a helpless maiden to protect. I was prepared for death long before this war." Edward shook his head as she still held the grudge his grabbing incident.

She paused, her eyes narrowing on the distant chaos, and let out a faint sigh. "Or at least, I thought I was."

Edward tilted his head, curiosity faintly breaking through his expression. "Oh? So what happened?"

She spoke softly, almost to herself. "I got to see the world beyond the Shadowlands. It… made me feel something I haven't in centuries. Happiness, maybe. It made me realize that living might not be such a bad thing. But I am a woman out of my time. I felt I didn't belong here."

Edward stopped, turning fully to face her, his expression unreadable. " And then?"

Scathach's gaze sharpened, meeting his directly. "I have lived all my life in the Shadowlands. Bloodlust, the craving for battle, the unending solitude… that was all I knew. But with Ritsuka and you… it was different.

For the first time, I didn't feel like a weapon. You two looked at me as just Scathach, a woman. Not the Queen of Shadowlands. Not an immortal warrior. Just… me. It was different. Nice, even."

Edward's stance softened. He stepped closer, his voice low and firm. "So why are you telling me this now?"

She looked away, the edge of sadness in her expression. "I don't know if I'll get to say it after this war ends. It seems… this is the end."

Edward reached out, clasping her shoulder gently. "Don't worry. We'll make it out alive somehow."

Scathach did not meet his gaze. "What if we don't?"

Edward's lips curved into a quiet smile. "Then I guess we'll have to continue this conversation in another timeline. But for now, we need to save this one." He started moving again, each step measured, resolute.

Scathach wanted to call him back, to speak further, to confess the swirl of feelings she had kept buried for centuries. But she didn't. Instead, a small smile curved her lips. I have never thought I'd be like a shy maiden, afraid to speak up. Perhaps that is for the best. I do not wish to distract him now.

Her thoughts turned inward as she watched him stride ahead. Not being able to speak my mind… it feels painful. Why does it hurt to think I might never see him again? This feeling… I've never known it.

I hate it, yet I want it. I want to know more about him, to experience the world and new experiences with him. Is this what they call… love? Do I even deserve to feel this way after everything?

A soft sigh escaped her lips. "Am I a fool… for hoping to live, for the first time in my life?"

Edward, hearing the faint murmur, turned slightly. "Did you say something?"

Scathach smiled faintly, her lips barely moving. "No… I didn't say anything."

Edward exhaled and tightened his grip on his weapon. "Are you ready? Wait for the right moment to strike. Don't act before they're weakened."

Scathach nodded, her expression composed yet softened with trust. "I'll follow your words."

Edward coughed, looking away, muttering under his breath. "Uh… thanks. Appreciate the… help."

Inside, his mind was a whirlwind. What is wrong with me? A global apocalypse is unfolding, and I'm distracted by a smile. But I have to say...she looks stunning when she smiles. I don't know why, but she's feels more...alive, I guess? Anyway, I can discuss this after I deal with this mess.

Ahead of them, the two reality marbles merged in chaotic waves of mana, colliding in arcs of pure destructive energy. Edward did not hesitate.

He sprinted, propelled by both Ruler-class speed and the authority of his Grand Ruler status, and his voice rang out across the blasted landscape: "Stop this madness! If this goes on, there will no longer be a world left, let alone the Grail!"

Zouken Matou's laughter echoed, distorted and eerie, as if the world itself had joined in the sound. "Ah, the Ruler has arrived. You are Adam, right? The first human. You should know by now that this war is no longer under your control.

I'll take over the world until I possess immortality and power beyond imagination. I'll make a new world in my own image. I'll start with taking over your body."

Edward's gaze flicked to Solomon, who stood firm, exuding the calm authority of the perfect King. "Blessed father of humanity," Solomon said, his voice measured and respectful. "I ask you to help me defeat this evil, and help me achieve humanity's salvation. With your powers and mine, we can guide humanity back to Eden and erase this cruel world of suffering."

Edward exhaled, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword. "It seems talking won't solve this. I wish I were like… Naruto, convincing enemies with just words. Very well then." He closed his eyes briefly, preparing his mind. "I, as the Grand Ruler, declare this war null and void. I shall now pass my judgement upon you."

Zouken Matou's cackle shattered the tense air, manic and filled with malice. "Hahaha, what can a mere relic like you do? I am death personified. Nothing can kill me!" He paused, tilting his head. "Let me show you the end then."

He began chanting, each word dripping with twisted intent. "You who dwell in arrogance and life's fullness… be swallowed in the circle of the fallen. Dance now with death, as all must."

"Noble Phantasm: Kagome Kagome."

The world itself responded to the declaration. The ground quaked violently, fissures splitting open like the earth itself was weeping. Pale Rider's influence, drawn from Zouken's memories and perverse will, manifested fully. Towering monstrosities emerged from these rifts, creatures of fire, brimstone, and gnarled flesh, their shapes reminiscent of every nightmare humanity had conjured. Lava gushed from the cracks, turning the battlefield into a river of molten destruction.

The smell of brimstone and blood was suffocating. The air vibrated with raw mana, oppressive enough to make the strongest Servants stagger. The monsters howled, their shrill cries echoing like a symphony . Cities had already been reduced to rubble by the collision of Noble Phantasms before, now Zouken had summoned the judgement day itself from the book of revelations. This was truly shaping up to be the end of the world.

The ground beneath Edward and Scathach's feet was cracked and boiling in places, yet they moved forward undeterred.

Edward's grip tightened, his gaze sharpening. "This… ends here." He spoke to Scathach, Ready you noble phantasm and leave the area. Once it collapses, that's when you strike."

Solomon raised his staff, chanting an incantation that shimmered with golden light. Each word projected authority, stabilizing the battlefield momentarily. "Adam, let us act in unison. Humanity must be preserved."

Edward nodded silently, their intentions aligned, although their reasons were different. They could settle things after defeating Zouken.

The stage was set, the apocalypse imminent, and all that remained was the confrontation, the battle against the encroaching end of the world.

The monsters surged forward, their combined weight threatening to crush the landscape entirely, yet Edward and Scathach advanced , unyielding and resolute.

The Apocalypse had begun, and the hour of reckoning was upon them.

*****

The battle surged with renewed fury, the world itself trembling under the clash of wills. Edward and Scáthach broke through the tide of apocalyptic monsters like twin storms.

Edward's hands moved with mechanical precision, his eyes cold and unyielding as he pushed his skill Divine Forge to its absolute limit. One after another, legendary weapons—blades, spears, axes, even shields forged from myth—manifested in a relentless storm. They floated in orbit around him before firing like meteors into the writhing horde, tearing apart monsters with divine resonance. Each impact left behind a burst of golden light and the ringing sound of steel echoing in the apocalyptic air.

Scáthach spun her Gáe Bolg Prototype with unmatched grace. Her movements were fast and clean, her strikes surgical in their precision. The crimson spear became a blur of red arcs as she cut down the monstrosities Zouken spewed forth. Ash and blood splattered across her bare skin, mixing with the burns inflicted by the unbearable heat that radiated from the apocalyptic landscape. Her expression, however, remained calm—she was the queen of the Land of Shadows, and this battlefield was nothing less than home.

Above them, Solomon's Demon God Pillars rumbled in unison, their immense forms aligning into complex sigils. Their beams of light fired in sequence, annihilating swathes of the endless monsters, suppressing Zouken's grotesque tide with terrifying efficiency.

For the first time since this nightmare began, Zouken was on the back foot. The combined assault of Edward, Scáthach, and Solomon forced cracks into his reality. Though his conjured apocalypse was vast, it was not absolute. Every strike, every weapon shattered portions of it. The horde thinned, the oppressive suffocation lifted slightly.

And yet, outside this battlefield, the calamity spread across the globe.

The Clock Tower had deployed enforcers under Lorelei Barthomeloi to secure Britain. Touko Aozaki raced toward Japan, her mind already working at solutions even as her body pressed forward. And somewhere beyond, the Dead Apostle Ancestor and kaleidoscopic magus himself, Zelretch, stirred—a rare moment when the old man chose to personally intervene.

Zouken knew it. His window was closing. The longer he stalled, the more enemies would arrive, enemies even he could not face. His voice cracked like broken glass as he screamed in frustration.

"Enough of this stalling!"

He summoned yet another wall of flesh and claws, layers of monsters reinforcing him like a fortress.

Edward leapt back, sensing the shift, and addressed Scáthach, his voice urgent but edged with a strange warmth.

"You should get out of here now. I'm going to do something reckless."

Scáthach impaled another beast, withdrawing her bloodied spear as easily as one might pluck a flower. She spared him only a sidelong glance, her tone calm but unyielding.

"When you activate your Noble Phantasm, you'll be vulnerable. If he strikes you before it's complete, all of this ends. I'll guard your back."

Edward gave a dry laugh, even in this hellish chaos.

"I really don't understand how your mind operates. One moment you're impossible to deal with… then the next you're acting clingy." He paused, blinking as if a realization struck him mid-fight. "Wait a minute—where have I seen this pattern before?"

He never got the chance to continue.

Zouken's form warped grotesquely, flesh stretching, breaking, merging into something far more terrifying. Mana flooded from the devoured monsters into his reshaping body. His voice rose to a guttural shriek as he transformed. Dragon scales sprouted across his body. A lion's maw gnashed beside the head of a goat. Seven heads burst forth from his shoulders, ten jagged horns crowning the abomination. It was no longer a man—it was Beast VI, the apocalyptic monster of Revelation.

It spread its countless tendrils across the battlefield. They lashed like whips, lightning-fast, carving trenches into the scorched earth, piercing through crumbling towers of flame.

Edward froze for only a moment. He recognized this. He had fought too many times not to understand. This was no longer a battle that could be dragged out—this was the final card Zouken had prepared.

His jaw tightened.

There was no other way.

He turned sharply to Solomon.

"Take him above the clouds. Hold him there for one minute. I'll minimize the destruction."

Solomon nodded silently, raising his hand. A colossal magic circle bloomed beneath Zouken, spinning with radiant power. Slowly, the abomination began to rise, dragged upward by divine gravity. Its seven heads roared in unison, the sound rattling the heavens.

Edward closed his eyes. His voice dropped into a low chant, quiet yet resounding across the battlefield.

"I saw it.

The end where no prayers were heard,

the silence after humanity's last breath.

A sky of iron, an earth of ash…"

The very world trembled. The earth cracked as if it, too, feared the words. The air grew still, the monsters recoiling instinctively. This was the chant of the end—the invocation of a Noble Phantasm born from despair itself.

Zouken's distorted voice shrieked in rage.

"You cannot stop me! I am death itself!"

His monstrous body swelled grotesquely, black mana spilling like a flood. Thousands of tendrils erupted from him at once, each as sharp as a blade, all aimed at Edward. The Demon God Pillars burned many to ash, but too many slipped through, streaking toward the chanting figure.

And then—

Stab!

The sickening sound of flesh pierced tore through the air. Edward's eyes snapped open. He looked forward—and his heart sank.

Scáthach stood before him, her back riddled with tendrils. They pierced through her body, countless holes riddling her form. Blood poured from her wounds, splattering across Edward's face as he instinctively stepped forward. Yet still, she stood firm, spear braced against the ground to hold herself upright.

His voice broke into a whisper.

"Why would you do that…?"

She coughed blood, crimson staining her lips, but her smile remained. Her violet eyes softened as they met his.

"I… don't know. Perhaps, this time… I wished to protect what I cherished…"

Her trembling hands fumbled at her chest, pulling free a small necklace etched with ancient runes. She pressed it weakly into his hands even as he tried desperately to heal her wounds, golden sparks of Divine energy failing against the fatal damage.

"Take it… it's been with me since childhood. Maybe… in another time… another world… we can meet again."

Her fingers brushed against his neck as she clasped the necklace around him.

Edward's eyes shut tight, pain lancing through his chest.

"Why go so far? You could have lived. This was your second chance…"

Scáthach's lips quirked upward in her final act of defiance. With fading strength, she tugged on the necklace and pulled him forward.

Edward's eyes widened as her lips pressed against his. The kiss was cold, fleeting—yet unbearably warm in its meaning.

She drew back just slightly, whispering words he would never forget.

"I often wondered… what it would feel like. It's… not so bad. Don't… forget… our promise."

Her body shone, her outline breaking apart into motes of light. Slowly, inevitably, she dissolved into the wind, her long-sought wish of release finally granted. And as she vanished, her last sigh lingered, faint against the roaring storm.

"…I truly hoped… my story had… a happy ending…"

Edward did not move. His arms hung empty where she had been. His eyes remained fixed forward, hollow, the light within them extinguished.

A long silence followed. Then, in a voice low and empty, he spoke.

"Farewell, Scáthach. Let us meet again one day… and speak to our hearts' content."

He raised his head, the rage within him igniting into something terrible. His gaze fixed on the abomination above. The time for restraint was gone.

"Time to finish this… for good."

*****

Ummm.... Hear me out... It's for Character Development...

Whoa there! Put away the torches and pitchfork ! I'm not a witch ! 💀