The hall was instantly filled with the thunder of gunfire. Bullets whizzed around, chipping away at the stone walls and columns, but neither Shirou nor Ferro were hit.
The shooting stopped as abruptly as it had started. Both mercenaries could hear the irritating dry clicks from empty magazines.
Emiya was already preparing to reload his weapon, but the homunculi clearly had no intention of giving him that chance. The distance between them was quickly closing, and Shiro felt an unpleasant chill run down his spine as the gleaming blades of glaives and halberds flashed in the moonlight.
- From their appearance, they're not just any maids; they were clearly created to kill… - he thought feverishly, trying to come up with an optimal solution to the problem. - Getting into close combat with them would be suicidal, and Ferro is unlikely to just stand by… Damn it! I have no time for this!
The last thought echoed in his mind, and in that very moment, it clicked. It was so obvious that he wanted to laugh, but instead, he closed his eyes for a moment and focused.
Time Alter: Double Accelerate!
Time abruptly slowed down, and everything around him seemed to shift into slow motion. However, to Emiya's frustration, the homunculi did not slow down as much as he had hoped. But even that little difference allowed him to gain precious seconds.
He dropped his pistols to the ground and rushed toward them, pulling out a new weapon from his "pocket," which turned out to be a MAC-10. A simple and cheap submachine gun, dangerous only at extremely close ranges due to its high spread. But at that moment, it was hardly a concern.
Finally, he reached the first of the homunculi, skillfully dodging the glaive's blade while grabbing its shaft. Seizing the opportunity, Shiro directed prana into it, causing the glaive to literally explode into pieces moments later. Without wasting time, he trained the submachine gun on the enemy and pulled the trigger.
The hall was again filled with the sound of gunfire, accompanied by dull thuds as bullets struck soft flesh. A dozen hit the homunculus, and a couple even pierced through. Not giving the enemies a chance to recover, Emiya turned the muzzle, emptying the remainder of the magazine and taking out three more foes. Two were shot in the head, splattering the pale red blood and brain matter of those behind them, while the third took several bullets in the neck, one clearly hitting the vertebrae, causing her head to nearly come off.
Four homunculi were rendered incapacitated, but this fact gave Shiro no satisfaction. They were mere puppets, worthless to him and their creators. Literally cannon fodder. There were still many more, and Ferro had not even been scratched behind them.
Moreover, Shirou was starting to feel the backlash from using magic. His acceleration made him faster, but once it ended, the world began to correct the distortions, which resulted in bodily damage. With such consequences, prolonging the battle was simply an intolerable luxury, and considering the circumstances, he had even less time…
As if to confirm this thought, the remaining homunculi regrouped and attacked again. To say this was ill-timed would be an understatement. His body hadn't even recovered, and he already had to defend himself again. And they were unlikely to fall for that trick twice.
But it seemed fate decided to smile at him this time, if only out of pity…
Before Shirou could blink, a halberd blade was raised over his head. He barely managed to slide to the side, feeling the air split beside his face with a sharp whistle. That miscalculation was enough for Shiro to grab the shaft and sharply pull it toward himself.
At that moment, a lone gunshot rang out, and a bullet embedded itself in the halberdist's back with a squelching sound.
- You sick bastard! - an angry voice from Sif echoed to him. - You used a human shield???
In reality, it wasn't quite like that, as Emiya had intended to simply pierce the homunculus's heart with the blade he had already drawn, but he was satisfied with this outcome too.
Shots thundered one after another. Ferro was clearly angry about the missed opportunity, which explained the somewhat low accuracy of his shooting as several bullets struck the homunculi. However, it hardly seemed to concern him.
Familiar crimson lines appeared in front of Shirou once more. With a single sweeping strike, he decapitated the homunculus, then pushed the blood-spraying corpse away and turned to the next enemy. A stray bullet hit her directly in the spine, severely disrupting her coordination. This allowed him to dodge the attack and sever the homunculus's arms, then taking the blade in reverse grip, drive it into her carotid artery.
Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his right side, drawing his attention to another enemy. For the umpteenth time that night, Shirou realized that luck was an extremely fickle thing. A moment more, and the glaive's blade would have gone straight through him; instead, the blow only tore his side. Still, that didn't bring him any comfort. Gritting his teeth, Emiya spun sharply to the homunculus, delivering a slicing strike with his stiletto. She attempted to block the blow with her weapon, but that was exactly what he was counting on. Just before the strike, Shiro shifted his trajectory slightly, severing the line of death, causing the glaive to snap in two.
Time Alter: Double Accel!
Time slowed once more. This gave Shirou a small edge, allowing him to intercept the next attack from one of the homunculi and skillfully redirect it onto her unarmed companion. As soon as her body was sliced by the halberd from shoulder to chest, Emiya decapitated her with one strike, then severed the halberdist's arms. The final blow also beheaded the foe, splattering the young man's face with blood.
A terrible pain coursed through his body as a signal of the backlash from the acceleration, causing his vision to blur. Shiro struggled to stay on his feet, but he couldn't allow himself to fall. Not now, when he was so close to his cherished goal...
Crack!
The silence that had fallen after the brawl was shattered by a sharp crack that echoed deafeningly due to the hall's size. This was followed by another, and another, and another…
- Bravo! - Ferro, standing at the other end of the room, clapped for him with an ironic smile. - What a delightful spectacle! These puppets were created solely for killing, and you've practically turned them into mush! I must say, I'm genuinely proud…
- Get out of the way, Ferro, - Shirou growled. - I have no time for you…
- I remember you just said something similar, - Sif smirked, a twisted parody of a smile on his lips. - But now you're barely standing, wounded, bleeding, and exhausted from the fight, unlike me. Why not give up peacefully? As a gesture of goodwill, I promise it will be quick and painless…
- I've heard enough nonsense! - Shirou snapped, then literally lunged at "Catalano."
He merely smirked crookedly before drawing his pistols, preparing to fire at Shirou even as he approached. But his smile faded when the young man moved faster than he could aim. Before he realized it, Emiya was on the opposite side of the hall with… a handheld grenade launcher, the M72, in hand.
- Porca puttana! - Ferro shouted just before the shockwave hit him.
When the echo of the explosion died down a bit, Shirou, panting heavily, tossed the grenade launcher aside. He had kept it in his arsenal for situations where he needed to break through a crowd of enemies or for particularly large targets. He hardly expected to use it against "Catalano," but there was no time to dwell on the irony of fate.
Sif didn't move, but Emiya didn't believe that could have killed him. He wasn't about to leave the mercenary alive because he was too dangerous to show mercy to. It would have been easier to shoot him, but due to his fatigue and significant blood loss, he was trembling heavily, making it too difficult to aim, so he decided to finish things the old-fashioned way.
Taking a deep breath, he withdrew the last of his remaining pistols from his "pocket," then staggered toward Ferro's body.
They were only a couple of meters apart when suddenly the silence was pierced by the triumphant voice of the Italian.
- Gotcha, bastard!
A monstrous pain shot through all of Emiya's body, and he just barely managed to keep from losing consciousness. His legs buckled, and Shiro fell to the floor, struggling to keep himself up on trembling hands.
- Ha… ha-ha… ha-ha-ha-ha! - Ferro's ghastly laughter grated on his ears, like sandpaper scraping against glass. - Who would have thought… you chopped all those homunculi, almost turned me into mince… and fell into such a trap!
The young man struggled to lower his gaze and saw beneath him a strange pentagram drawn in blood, glowing a deep burgundy color.
- Ha... I must admit, that was close… - Sif grunted, laboriously getting to his feet while clutching his bleeding side. - I almost died, you son of a bitch… Cough cough… Looks like my left ear is deaf, - he snapped his fingers near his head and shook his head in annoyance. - But at least the shrapnel didn't hit any vital organs…
Shiro could hardly hear him. It was no longer pain, but agony. So intense that Emiya would have screamed if he had the strength.
- Do you like it? - the "Catalan" asked with irony. - An Eastern trap; using it requires sacrificing your own blood, but it's worth it. It causes shock to the victim, and on top of that, it makes them feel the same pain as the caster. Simple, yet with flavor... You're lucky you're still breathing, some can't handle such strain on their hearts, - he added, his trademark smirk returning to his face, though it was shadowed by an expression of pain. - But that's why I like it more than anything else…
Clenching his teeth and holding his side with one hand while drawing a knife with the other, he slowly stepped towards Shirou.
- It's time to tear out your beautiful eyes, kid... At first, I even felt sorry that so much of my effort would go to waste, but after what you've done here... I'll do it with immense pleasure!
Shirou was no longer listening to him. All his remaining strength was focused on finding any way out. Time was once again turning against him; one more minute, and everything would be in vain. His life... Illya... Kiritsugu... All of it would crumble into the abyss... Was this... his end?..
- No... - he whispered barely audibly.
- I can't die here! I haven't fulfilled my promise, which means I have no right to die when the goal of my life is within arm's reach! Everything I've gone through, everything I've done... I can't let this vanish for nothing!... Is it painful? - he asked himself. - Is your vision blurry? Can't move because of the curse? All just damned excuses!..
He will never accept such a reality. He will cast aside everything that obstructs gim from keeping my word to her and to myself... He will save Illya…
And no other outcome, except this one, was acceptable!
- I command you... Come forth, shadows…
- Huh? What are you mumbling about? Have you decided to pray before death? - Ferro mockingly drawled, raising his knife above him.
- But it's impossible to touch you… without seeing!
The hall resonated with a sound reminiscent of shattering glass. Shiro instantly felt a wave of relief; it was as if he had found a second wind. There were only pitiful seconds left before the Italian's strike, but he didn't need more than that.
Time Alter: Triple Accel!
The world around him slowed once again. Shirou gathered what remnants of strength he had, then lunged to the side, aiming his gun at Sifa. He could already see the shock on his face and couldn't hold back a vindictive smile. At this distance, he couldn't miss.
One shot— that was all he needed!
Emiya squeezed the trigger, and the bullet thundered out of the barrel, shooting straight into the chest of the "Catalan."
The mercenary didn't even have time to comprehend what had happened…
With a gurgling sound, the bullet entered Ferro's lung, causing him to topple backward, coughing up blood profusely.
However, Shirou hardly found himself in a better condition. The effect of the triple acceleration was worse than he had anticipated. Emiya felt some of his blood vessels practically bursting from the strain, and the wound in his side opened again.
But victory belonged to him...
The bullet that had pierced Sifa was no ordinary one, just like the weapon that had fired it. It was a "Thompson Contender"—the signature weapon of Kiritsugu, a bane for any mage. It tore apart magical chains and tissues, binding them together and causing necrosis. Attempting to use magic would only amplify the effect. And considering where Shiro had hit, Ferro was already done for…
Putting away the "Thompson," Shirou bit his lip until it bled, trying to suppress the cry that threatened to escape his throat. Though the effects of the curse had faded, it certainly didn't mean moving had become easier.
He had neither the strength nor the time to finish off Ferro. He had already lingered here far too long, and if this was all a trap...
No, he didn't even want to think about the implications of that.
He needed at least a moment to catch his breath and allow his wounds to mend. If he burst into the Einzberns' lair now, all he would manage to do was die. And Ferro wouldn't be able to stop him anyway, not with those injuries…
Criminal naivety…
…that Shirou fully realized when he felt the blade of a knife piercing his back.
- Khah... Khah-khah-khah… - Ferro slowly got to his feet, spewing blood. - If I could be killed so easily... I wouldn't be who I am.
Despite the blade sticking out of his back, Shirou felt his blood boiling. He had done so much, and it still wasn't enough?!
- Damn... tough fuckin bastard!!! - he roared, yanking the knife out of his back and lunging at Ferro.
Before he could strike, Sif fist met him, hitting him in the stomach. Emiya doubled over, but in the same instant, he grabbed the knife with an underhand grip and plunged it into the "Catalan's" belly, twisting it inside him multiple times.
- Maybe I'll die here, but I'll take you with me to Hell! - Ferro shouted maliciously, grabbing Shirou by the shoulders and driving his knee into his chest, knocking the breath out of him.
- I'll send you there myself!
Both were already on their last breaths and barely moving, yet they felt no pain and refused to yield to each other. Neither wanted to be the loser, and it was no longer enough to simply kill the opponent; their rage served as a hell of a good anesthetic.
Shirou no longer knew how many times he had hit. Ten? A hundred? Two hundred? His eyes were clouded with blood, and from the pain, he no longer felt his body, not even understanding how he kept moving. Emiya had reached his limit... no, he had long surpassed it...
They stood only a meter apart. Bruised knuckles, covered in blood and dust. They stood and stared at each other, not averting their gaze. As if something was transpiring between them that only they could comprehend.
Did it last hours or just a few seconds? Neither of them knew. Adrenaline began to dissipate from their blood, and fatigue overwhelmed them with doubled force. They both understood—everything must be resolved now.
With ragged breaths, Shirou drew his bloodied stiletto. Sif picked up his knife from the floor.
A second passed... two... three... And after another, they clashed once more.
The blades clanged and sparked as they met. But Shirou's stiletto was longer, allowing him to leave several deep cuts on Ferro, including one across his face. But this couldn't go on. Emiya felt that in just another minute, he would simply collapse.
And so he put everything he had into one last strike.
His blade was poised to slice Ferro in half, severing the thickest of the scarlet lines, but Ferro's hand blocked the blow, after which the Italian plunged a knife into his thigh. A faint victorious smile appeared on Catalan's lips…
… but it vanished instantly when Shiro released the stiletto from his right hand, caught it with his left, and pierced Ferro's heart. The mercenary jolted once, then again, and lowered his gaze to the stiletto that had pierced him.
— This… is how the student… surpassed the master… — he rasped, before collapsing dead with a smirk.
For a moment, Shirou stood there, staring blankly at him. He couldn't even explain why, but those last words of Sif didn't surprise him.
— Strange… I thought that when I killed him, I would feel joy or relief… — he mumbled, pulling the knife from the wound and pressing a hand to it. — But instead, I just feel… sad? Ha…
Ferro was the last obstacle in his path to his sister. Though their fight had dragged on, with the mercenary's death, that obstacle had been swept away. He could finally…
His vision darkened, his body refused to move, and his legs trembled, ready to give way at any moment. He had truly exceeded his limits…
— No… not yet… not everything… — Shiro muttered, forcing himself to move forward. — Just a bit more… I can't… not now…
His body struggled to obey, and after a couple of steps, he collapsed to the floor but continued to crawl toward the exit of the hall. However, it didn't last long.
— And this half-dead body caused us so much trouble? — a cold, indifferent voice reached him.
Straining to lift his head, Emiya saw its source, an elderly man whose true age was hard to determine. Dry, aristocratic features long devoid of any emotion framed long gray hair and a beard resembling a frozen waterfall. The young man glanced at his red eyes and flinched inwardly. In those eyes, he saw a suppressed hatred that was ready to burst forth at any moment.
Shirou had never met this old man, but he guessed who stood before him surrounded by dozens of homunculi.
— Jubstacheit von Einzbern… — he almost spat out the name.
— Emiya Shirou, son of Emiya Kiritsugu, — responded the head of the Einzberns in the same tone.
— Where is Illya? — Shiro asked in a husky voice.
— She is where neither you nor your father can reach her, — the corners of Aht's lips curled upwards slightly, forming a semblance of a smirk. Turning away from him, he directed his gaze at Ferro's lifeless body. — That's why I can't stand mercenaries. You are just worthless scum, unaware of honor or loyalty. Your father and 'Catalan' are the best examples of that.
— Where. Is. My. Sister? — Emiya rasped again.
— She is no longer here, son of the Magus Killer, you are too late… — the old man replied in that same tone. — Perhaps Sif Ferro could not fulfill his mission completely, but he gave me enough time to take care of Illyasviel.
She is no longer here… no… NO!..
You are too late… too late… LATE..
Those words echoed painlessly in his mind, so that if he could raise his hands, he would surely have covered his ears, not wanting to hear them. His lips trembled, and his broken voice could only whisper a denial:
— You lie… — Shirou didn't believe him; he simply didn't want to believe…
— I'm afraid this isn't a matter of your belief, but a fact, — Aht said slowly as he moved toward the exit from the hall. — After all, unlike your father, I know what honor and loyalty to one's word entail.
— Ha-ha-ha… — Shiro could only laugh, whether at nerves giving way or because the words of the Einzbern truly amused him. — What do you, mages, especially soulless puppets like you, know about honor?!
— Much more than wretched scum like you, — the old man scoffed, waving his hand at his servants. — Kill him... so that there's nothing left to bury.
The homunculi obediently bowed, and after their master left the hall, they immediately surged forward.
Shirou gripped the stiletto tightly. The old mage's words continued to ring in his head, causing more pain than all his wounds combined. His heart was literally torn apart by bitterness, and his soul slowly sank into the depths of despair.
- I… lost?.. I… couldn't save her?..
You also promise to save me, but… alas, I no longer believe in such promises… no one can save me now…
The rage that had only just subsided flared within him anew. After everything that had happened today… he couldn't let it all end like this!
He forced himself to his feet, wanting to turn everyone who stood in his way into mince… but his first step became his last.
His body, lifted only by sheer will, collapsed weakly to the floor.
He couldn't even open his eyes, feeling the breath of Death standing behind him. His heart clenched with helpless rage, but he understood that he had already lost…
Yet instead of pain and the expected oblivion, he heard several wet sounds, then shuddered, feeling a thin layer of frost forming on the ground around him.
— Indeed… an unpleasant ending, isn't it? — someone asked, standing over him. — So much effort, sacrifice… and to stumble just a step from victory! Fate is, alas, an incredibly cruel thing, and love and justice do not always triumph, no matter how much we all wish for it. I suppose… now you understand this better than anyone else?
Shirou wasn't sure, but he could hear something resembling an irony that only he would understand in the stranger's voice.
— But it would be extremely wasteful to leave someone with such potential to die, — somewhere in the distance, a distant hum and the thump of an approaching crowd could be heard. — Hm, it seems you've attracted far too much attention that neither you nor especially I need. Soon the entire castle will swarm over here, and I would prefer to… avoid unnecessary spectators…
Emiya felt the stranger carefully grab him by the collar and lift him above the icy floor.
— Ha… I'm too old for such vulgarities, but there's nothing to be done… — he grunted. — But we will meet soon, and I shall be waiting for great deeds from you… Emiya Shirou… The Second Magus Killer…
That was the last thing Shiro heard before finally slipping into darkness…
***
— Where are you taking me?! — Illya continued to scream, struggling against the maids' grasp. — Why won't you talk to me? Where is grandpa?
The homunculi remained ominously silent, and she became convinced once again that they were far too different from ordinary people. Their empty eyes reflected no emotion, save for complete indifference.
They had come for her suddenly: they simply broke down the door to her room and, without a word, grabbed her by the arms and pulled her toward a hidden exit from the wing they occupied.
It was a narrow, dim corridor that partially ran under the castle, created for the emergency escape of its owners, but now it was being used for the first time. Illya understood well where this was leading, and so she struggled harder, demanding some kind of answer from the servants, but they seemed to not hear their mistress, dragging her along.
A gust of cold air rushed from the corridor, and after one turn, they found themselves by a loosely closed door, thin strips of moonlight streaming through its cracks. As they approached it, the door opened, and the girl found herself surrounded by several armed homunculi, who escorted her toward a nearby vehicle.
Illya couldn't resist for long, and ultimately the maids shoved her into the passenger cabin, after which the doors closed tightly. She dashed from one door to another, banging her hands against the glass and the partition separating her from the driver, but it was all futile.
She was caged, like a wild beast…
Illya helplessly lowered her hands and could not hold back her tears.
They caught her. He won't be able to come and help her simply because he doesn't know where to find her. Her brother… Shiro…
One of the doors suddenly opened, and the girl already wanted to rush toward it but stopped upon seeing her grandfather's figure, who sat down in the adjacent seat, not even giving her a glance. As soon as he slammed the door shut, the car sped away from the castle.
— Grandpa, what does all this mean? Why are we leaving so suddenly?
— Because we've done everything we were supposed to do, — Aht replied in his usual tone, then cast a scrutinizing glance at his granddaughter. — Or do you have some important business left?
Illya flinched. To her memory, her grandfather had never looked at her with such a gaze, under which she suddenly felt small and defenseless, as if Death herself were looking at her.
— G-g-grandpa… — she tried to respond, but Aht turned away and interrupted her.
— He won't come.
Inside the girl, something snapped. She didn't even have time to wonder how her grandfather knew of Shiro's presence, because he could only be speaking of him in such a tone.
- He promised me... he promised that he would save me... Shirou couldn't betray me, it just couldn't be him... – she barely held back the urge to voice those thoughts and instead tried to ask as calmly as possible.
— What are you talking about?..
— The spawn of Kiritsugu, the one he chose over you, – the old man explained in a chilling tone. – I knew he would be here today, which is why I prepared for our meeting. However... he turned out to be no better than his father.
- No... grandfather, I don't want to hear that... I don't want to believe your words! – she silently pleaded. – Please... don't say that...
— No... – Illya trembled, clutching the folds of her dress tightly.
She believed Shirou. She believed in his words and promises. But her grandfather's words were filled with a typical coldness, driving deeper into her mind and heart, shattering that faith.
— He promised... to "save" you, didn't he? Just like Kiritsugu saved your mother? To deceive you, use you for his own purposes, and then leave you to die alone? – the head of the Einzbern family paused, watching to see the effect his words had.
Illya's eyes brimmed with tears, but she held them back with all her might, continuing to mumble something and shake her head in denial. Painful memories of her mother's death pierced her heart like a harpoon, and her grandfather's words only aggravated the wound.
— I think you'd be pleased to know that your hatred and distrust towards him were not unfounded. When he couldn't deceive you, he tried to track me down and kill me at his father's orders. An innocent little boy... – Acht's lips curled into a smile that felt entirely unfamiliar to him. – He ran away, unable to achieve anything, but soon our servants will catch up to him. He will die, as he deserves. All the promises he made to you were lies, Illyasviel.
She remained silent. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her shoulders shook with silent sobs.
- He... he deceived me... deceived... deceived...
Illya covered her face with her hands and moved away from her grandfather.
Acht felt triumphant inside. The girl's will was utterly broken by his words, and now he only needed to finish the job.
— Well then... the story of these traitors and deceivers is coming to an end. We will return home and forget about their existence forever. After all, we have more important matters to attend to, don't we, Illyasviel?
Illya lowered her hands. She was no longer crying, but her eyes and cheeks were still wet from tears. Despite this, her gaze appeared empty, like those of other homunculi created by Acht. He couldn't suppress a cold smile.
— Yes, grandfather, – she replied barely above a whisper. – We have more important matters to attend to...
The head of the Einzbern family nodded in satisfaction and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and fully immersing himself in his thoughts. Illya turned away from him and looked out the window at the dark winter forest rushing past them.
Two lonely tears slid down her cheeks.
- That's it... that's the price of empty promises you cannot fulfill. Are you satisfied, Emiya Shirou? Well, I'm... disappointed... because, in the end, I was right... no one can save me now...
***
The cool sea air gently touched his face, pulling him from oblivion. Shiro struggled to open his eyes.
Above him stretched an endless black sky, filled with thousands of stars shining brightly in the heights. Emiya lay there, silently gazing at them, listening to the waves lapping against the sandy shore.
He didn't rise immediately. He tried to get up, but a sharp pain pierced every cell of his body, forcing the young man to fall back, weakly covering his eyes with his hand.
Shirou understood that he was no longer in that castle or even in Germany, but very far away from there. And that could only mean one thing.
He... had failed...
Illya...
He couldn't do it. He couldn't pull her from the clutches of the Einzberns. He had run out of time and strength...
And it was all because of Sif's betrayal. The man he had considered his mentor for five years turned out to be an ordinary rat. It's no wonder Kiritsugu never trusted him. The most ridiculous thing was that Shirou wasn't even surprised by his duplicity...
After lying there for a while, he cautiously got up and, looking around, recognized the familiar island near Tunisia. Emiya didn't even find it in himself to be surprised by this and slowly made his way toward home.
He met it with a grim and oppressive silence. As he entered the hall, Shirou stumbled upon its sole occupant.
Just judging by his appearance, it seemed he didn't have long left.
Five years had passed since their first meeting, but in those years, Kiritsugu seemed to have aged twenty years. His skin, despite years of sun exposure in a hot climate, appeared deathly pale, and dark circles lay under his sunken eyes. Emiya's father now literally resembled a living corpse, while even a vampire would look far more alive in comparison. The curse of Angra Mainyu had practically devoured his body and soul.
As if sensing someone's presence, Kiritsugu opened his eyes and saw his son.
— Just look at us – the only beauty left for the grave, – he made a weak attempt at humor.
It might have been funny if it hadn't been so close to reality.
— Yes, perhaps...
— Where's Ferro?
— Dead, – Shiro replied flatly. – I killed him.
Emiya's father fell silent. His expression revealed that he was not surprised by the news at all.
— ...What happened?
— It was a trap. The whole mission was a farce from start to finish...
— I see, – Kiritsugu mused. – I expected something like this. After all, he is a mercenary... Such is our nature...
An odd silence reigned in the room again. It seemed they both simply relished it, immersed in their own thoughts.
— I met her there, – Shirou quietly murmured.
— What did you just say? – For the first time during their conversation, something human appeared in Kiritsugu's voice and gaze. He weakly grasped his son's hand, looking at him with hope in his eyes.
— Illya... I met her there, – Shirou replied, not realizing he was smiling as he said her name.
— ...How is she?
It was clear he wanted to ask much more, but whether he didn't want to waste the little time he had left or just didn't want to burden Emiya with complex questions, he held back.
— She's fine, as much as can be expected, – Shiro replied with a heavy sigh. – But... we didn't get to talk.
— I see... – his father smiled sadly, releasing his hand. – I suppose that was to be expected... Although, I can't say it's unfair...
— This whole mission was an Einzbern trap. They used Ferro to get rid of me first, then you...
— Since you're here, it wasn't successful then?
— Yes, but... – Shirou fell silent, unable to continue. The weight of guilt and anger toward himself lay heavily on his soul. – That damn Ferro... because of him, I couldn't... I ran out of time and...
— Shirou, stop this right now, – his father's sharp voice instantly snapped him from his stupor.
Turning to him, he saw the iron resolve in Kiritsugu's eyes that he had seen several years ago. And it clashed entirely with his current state.
— Don't you dare, do you hear me? Don't you even think for a second that there's even a drop of your guilt in what happened! If anyone is to blame for everything that has occurred, it's the man sitting in front of you, – Kiritsugu said in a dull voice, lowering his gaze.
— ... – Shirou didn't know how to respond to those words.
— Everything that has happened is merely the result of my selfishness and foolishness. I spent my entire life chasing this foolish ideal, leaving so many people in its wake... even my own family... – Kiritsugu's voice grew quieter with every passing minute. – I was so eager to save everyone that in the end, I couldn't save anyone, not even myself. Everything I did was kill and sacrifice others for that idiotic childhood dream. I think it was extremely arrogant to believe that I could save anyone, – he shook his head with a bitter smile on his face. – That's why I wanted to protect you from all this... I feared that you'd fall into that vicious cycle until this hypocritical ideal broke you too...
— That won't happen... – Emiya interjected.
— Shirou? – Kiritsugu hesitantly looked up at him.
— I will never follow that path... How can a man who can't protect his own family even be called a hero? And why... should I care about others when those close to me are suffering? I... don't want to be such a soulless hypocrite. That path... I don't need it!
He will not be able to save anyone... neither her, nor you, nor me...
— Yes, maybe you failed, but I won't repeat that mistake...
Only now did Shiro feel an entirely different emotion replace the anger and melancholy...
...Shame.
He was ashamed that he allowed himself these defeatist thoughts that he had lost and everything was gone. Yes, maybe this battle was lost to them, but... but the war... His war had only just begun.
- In the end, it didn't matter whether there was a single person who would fight to the end. - Shirou felt a rush of emotions as he said this. - If heroes had to sacrifice their loved ones in order to save others, and if their desire for the happiness of their loved ones was wrong, then I would gladly take on the role of a villain! - Kiritsugu listened silently, seeing the determination shining in his son's eyes. - I'm not going to sacrifice my happiness or my life for anyone else, - said Emiya. - It doesn't matter what I do or how it affects others. Whether I become a hero or a villain, it won't change the fact that I want my dreams to come true. I'll pay any price, no matter what happens. - Emiya continued, looking into his father's eyes, - I want to make my beloved ones proud. That's my goal.
Kiritsugu's tone was gentle, yet it was imbued with a sense of elation and a profound sense of pride in what he had recently discovered.
- I am aware of this, and it is precisely why I feel a sense of pride in you, my son...
Then he closed his eyes and smiled, those were the last words Kiritsugu Emiya said.