Waking up was the hardest part. Sleep had been a brief, dreamless void, a mercy. But consciousness returned like a physical weight, a heavy stone settling in her chest that reminded her with its first beat that the nightmare was real. The world was over.
Gudako moved.
The floor tiles were cold, but the sensation felt distant, a fact registered by a body that no longer felt like it belonged to her. She went through the motions in the small bathroom, her gaze empty as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It almost felt like she was looking at a stranger's face–a pale, hollow-eyed mask with skin too tight over the bone, framed by hair that was a chaotic mess. She watched as the stranger's hand came up to turn on the faucet.
She washed her face, the water cool against skin that felt numb and foreign. She brushed her teeth, the taste of artificial mint a sharp, absurdly normal flavor in a world that had ceased to have any meaning. She was a ghost haunting the ruins of her own life, a collection of practiced movements without what felt like a soul to guide them.
A soft chime from her room pulled her out of her thoughts. The door sliding open.
It was Mash. She stood in the doorway, a tray held carefully in her hands, on it a covered bowl steaming gently. Her usual quiet brightness was dimmed, her shoulders slumped slightly under a shared; sleepless sorrow. She stepped inside, her presence a silent question for which there was no answer. Gudako didn't speak. She simply moved back to the bed and sat on the edge, her gaze finding a spot on the opposite metal wall, seeing nothing.
She heard the soft clink of the tray being placed on the bedside table. She could smell the simple, warm scent of what was probably corn soup. It was a gesture of care for a hunger she couldn't feel anymore.
The silence in the room stretched, thick and heavy with everything that had been lost. Mash didn't speak; she didn't have to. She simply moved around the bed and sat beside Gudako, a quiet, steady presence in the sterile room.
Then, through the profound, suffocating numbness, Gudako felt it.
A gentle weight. A warmth.
Her hand, hesitant at first, came to rest over Gudako's, which was clenched into a white-knuckled fist on her bed's sheet. Her grip was not forceful, not even reassuring in a way that asked for a response. It was simply… there. An anchor in a soundless, drowning ocean. It didn't try to pull her from the depths. It just promised her that she was not alone in them.
For the first time since the world had ended, Gudako Fujimaru felt something real.
And in the silent, sterile room, a single, hot tear escaped and traced a path down her cheek.
-X-X-X-X-X-
The stark white corridors of Chaldea were silent save for the sound of footsteps coming from its new leadership. Romani Archaman walked with his hands clasped behind his back, the heavy silence between him and his companion a testament to the decision he had reached.
"We have to be certain," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I–no, we have to make sure she is capable of moving forward with what's to come. I know this is too much even for a magus, let alone a normal human, but I want it to be her choice."
"A crucible, then," Da Vinci replied, her tone just as serious beneath its usual melodic air. "You plan to test her."
"Yes," Romani said, a profound sorrow in his words. "I really want to believe her, trust me I do. But I can't in good conscience send someone to what is most probably certain death without knowing if they are ready for it."
They arrived at Gudako's door. It slid open to reveal a scene of profound quiet. Gudako sat on the edge of her bed, her back straight, her hands resting in her lap. Mash was beside her, a silent, steadfast guardian. The breakfast tray on the nightstand was untouched, but Gudako's gaze was no longer vacant. She looked up as they entered, her eyes holding a deep, hollowed-out sorrow, but a flicker of awareness as well.
This was the moment. The doctor in Romani wanted to find softer words, but the Acting Director of Chaldea knew what was required. He stepped forward.
"Fujimaru-kun," he began, his voice stripped of its usual warmth, replaced by a grave, almost clinical authority. "I know what I told you in the medical bay was… a lot to process." He took a breath, holding her gaze. "But I did not tell you everything. The Incineration of Humanity is not a finality. While it has happened, I believe we have a shot at fixing this mess."
He watched her face, seeing the first, faint flicker of confusion, a crack in the wall of her grief.
"We have detected seven other points in time like Fuyuki–seven other Singularities that are acting as the foundation for this catastrophe. Correcting them is the key. If we can restore them, we have a chance… a chance to restore the Human Order. To bring everyone back."
He let the words land–a colossal weight and a single, desperate lifeline. Then, he delivered the final, crushing part of the burden.
"Of the forty-eight Master Candidates, only you survived. This chance, this single thread of hope to save the world… it falls entirely to you." He leaned forward, his expression holding no pity, only the unbearable weight of his new responsibility. "So I must know, Fujimaru Ritsuka. Are you willing to carry that weight? Are you willing to fight?"
The air in the room was thick with the question. Gudako felt it, not as more pain, but as an anchor. The hollow, screaming void in her chest, the one which had threatened to swallow her whole, was suddenly filled with a single, incandescent spark. Hope. It was a fragile, impossible thing, but it was there. This wasn't about surviving in a dead world. It was about fighting for the one she had lost. The grief was still there, a wound that would never fully heal, but it was no longer the only thing she was. She looked from Romani's face to Mash's, and back again. Then it happened.
She gave a single, sharp nod, her eyes clear for the first time since she had woken up.
Da Vinci, who had been observing the exchange, saw the exact moment Gudako's grief morphed into resolve. She saw the spark. And she knew it needed to be fanned into a fire lest it be lost in the wind.
She clapped her hands together, a sharp, cheerful sound that shattered the somber atmosphere of the room.
"Well! Now that the grim business is out of the way, I must say the mood in here is entirely too depressing for my tastes!" she declared, her voice a bright, theatrical flourish. "We have a path forward! A reason for hope! This calls not for moping, but for action! An activity to solidify this newfound resolve!"
A brilliant, knowing smile spread across her face, lighting up the sterile room.
"And I have just the thing."
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
A few days had passed since the promise of hope had been given a name. Time in Chaldea was measured not in sunsets, but in small, incremental victories.
In the vast, steel-walled hangar, Mash Kyrielight was one such victory. She stood as a bastion against a tide of stone, her shield a bulwark against the five concrete golems advancing on her. Each automaton was a crude, hulking thing, its surface etched with glowing blue runes–Cú Chulainn's handiwork.
From the edge of the training field, Gudako's expression was no longer one of hollow grief, but of quiet, focused determination. "Mash, the one on your left! It slows down every third attack, finish it first!"
The training was Cú's design. The golems were not learning machines; they were programmed with a singular purpose: to relentlessly exploit every flaw in Mash's technique. Every gap in her guard, every moment of clumsy footwork, every telegraphed swing was met with a punishing blow. It was a harsh but effective lesson in self-awareness.
"Right!" Mash grunted, pivoting just as Gudako commanded. She absorbed the golem's first two strikes on her shield, then, as the third came in a wide, predictable slow arc, she ignored the arm and drove the edge of her shield low, smashing the automaton's stone knee. With a grinding crunch, the leg shattered. As the golem toppled, she followed through with a ferocious, two-handed overhead smash that reduced its torso to a pile of rubble and fading runes.
She didn't have time to celebrate. Another golem was already charging, its fist aimed for a slight opening near her right shoulder that she often exposed after a powerful swing. This time, she was ready. She corrected her stance, closing the gap, and met the attack with a perfect parry that sent the golem staggering. Before it could recover, she had rammed her shield's point directly into its chest, shattering it from the inside out. A small, triumphant smile touched her lips. She was getting better.
But this was merely the undercard.
On the other side of the cavernous hangar, the main event was reaching its crescendo. The air crackled with the clash of Cursed Tools. The spar was first blood. Cú Chulainn, a blur of blue and black, wielded Hiten with a fluid grace, its three prongs a constant, probing threat that kept lesser warriors at bay.
He was not fighting a lesser warrior.
Sukuna met the assault with Kamutoke and three free hands, a four-armed fortress of relentless offense. He parried a thrust from the trishul with his vajra, the impact a sharp clang that echoed through the hangar. In the same instant, one of his lower hands slapped the shaft of Hiten, disrupting Cú's follow-up, while his other two fists jabbed at the Caster's ribs. Cú was forced to abandon his attack, his superior flexibility being the only thing allowing him to twist out of the way, the punches grazing his robes.
With a frustrated snarl, Cú created distance, but Sukuna was on him, pressing the advantage. The King of Curses had the reach up close, a suffocating volume of attacks that Cú was barely holding off. Finally, Sukuna saw his opening. He feinted a low strike with Kamutoke, and as Cú brought the trident down to block, Sukuna's upper left hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the weapon's shaft. With a brutal twist of his wrist, he wrenched Hiten from Cú's grasp, sending it spinning across the floor.
Sukuna lunged, the bladed point of Kamutoke aimed directly at the Caster's heart.
With no weapon to parry, Cú dropped, ducking clean under the thrust. He slammed his palm onto the floor, a single rune flaring to life with blue light. A contained shockwave of pure kinetic force erupted outwards, striking Sukuna in the chest. It wasn't enough to harm him, but it sent the larger being staggering back several meters, his attack thwarted.
As Sukuna planted his feet to reorient himself, a glint of metal caught his eye from the periphery. Hiten, which should have been on the floor, was now screaming through the air directly at his back, guided by a faint, glowing rune on its haft. Sukuna twisted at the last possible second, attempting to dodge the unexpected strike. The trident shot past him, but not before one of its prongs sliced open a thin, crimson line on the pale skin of his shoulder. First blood. Hiten curved gracefully back into Cú Chulainn's outstretched hand.
The Caster leaned on the weapon, a wide, triumphant smirk splitting his face. "And this round," he declared, "goes to the Hound."
Sukuna touched his shoulder, observing the single drop of blood on his fingertip with an analytical gaze. He let out a low, appreciative chuckle. "You won with a cheap trick," he stated, his tone holding no anger, only fact. "But a victory is a victory. That is all that matters."
His four eyes fixed on the rune still faintly glowing on Hiten's shaft. "When will you teach me that?" he asked, his voice a low command. "The recall. It is a useful addition."
Cú's smirk widened. "Whenever you want, big guy. Tell me, have my little lessons been helpful so far?"
A slow, predatory grin spread across Sukuna's face. "They have provided a certain… inspiration." He held up Kamutoke. On the flat, bladed edge of the vajra, a new, intricate seal was visible. Sukuna channeled a thread of Cursed Energy into the weapon. Instantly, the edges of the vajra's blades began to glow, shifting from dull gold to a menacing, incandescent orange, radiating a palpable, searing heat.
Cú's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "What in the…"
"Your principles of Runecraft were informative," Sukuna explained. "The versatility of your art far surpasses mine, and while I have learned a few things, mine's still lacking."
"This is still fundamentally a sealing technique," he continued, gesturing with the glowing weapon. "I looked into the basic script you provided me, and while I can't just write them down and power them through my cursed energy, I have learnt that one symbol from my script can have more than one meaning." He lowered the vajra as the glow dimmed. "So while I was able to seal my fire arrow inside the tip of the blade, its fuel is still finite. Still, the theory behind Runecraft did help me advance my craft a bit."
Cú stepped closer, his head tilted as he examined the glowing seal. "It's clever," he admitted, "but the chain seems a little crude here. You used way too many seals for such a small effect."
"It was my first successful attempt," Sukuna replied with a shrug, completely unbothered.
"Want me to take a proper look? I could probably point out a few things that could be done to make it easier to use," Cú offered, surprisingly curious.
Sukuna said nothing. He simply handed him Kamutoke.
Hssshhhk.
The sound of the hangar's reinforced doors sliding open cut through the air. Da Vinci stood in the entrance, a brilliant smile on her face. She was flanked by Romani.
"Glad to see everyone is hard at work," Da Vinci announced, her voice echoing in the vast chamber. Her expression was bright, but underscored with a clear, business-like urgency as she strode forward, the others following in her wake. "Because the preparations are complete. It's time for the main event."
She stopped before them, her gaze sweeping over the assembled team, an indescribable glint in her eyes. She looked directly at Gudako.
"Let's go summon a Servant."
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Gudako stepped into the summoning chamber alone.
It felt absurd. This sliver of a chance, this fragile, insane hope of bringing everyone back… it all balanced on her. On the words she was about to speak. The fear was a cold knot tightening in the pit of her stomach, a physical thing threatening to choke her. Her hands, clasped before her, trembled.
No, she thought, her fingers clenching into white-knuckled fists at her sides. She remembered the hollow look in Romani's eyes, the quiet tear on Mash's cheek. The grief was still there, a raw wound in her soul, but it was no longer a weight that could hold her down. It was fuel, she had decided. She had a mission and she will see it through.
"Everything looks good, Fujimaru, so whenever you're ready!" Da Vinci's encouraging voice echoed from the speakers.
Taking one last, shaky breath, Gudako closed her eyes. Her voice, trembling at first, rang out in the humming silence.
"Let silver and steel be the essence."
"Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation."
"Let my great-father, Isami, be the ancestor."
"Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall."
"Let the four cardinal gates close."
"Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."
-X-X-X-X-X-
From his place outside the circle, Sukuna watched, his four crimson eyes fixed on the spectacle with an intense, analytical focus. As the human girl began the incantation, he perceived the true nature of the event. He saw beyond the light show. The influx of Chaldea's Mana was not just a torrent of raw power; it was being shaped, given grammar and syntax by the ritual's words. He could perceive it–a conceptual 'container,' a vessel for a soul, being woven into the fabric of reality itself. He could feel a foreign existence, a complete spiritual entity, being drawn from that impossible well of souls the Hound had described, slowly manifesting from pure information into a state of physical being. This was–and he was surprised to admit it–quite beautiful in a sense he couldn't describe. This was the creation of life from a legend. It was fascinating to see it. He wondered how cursed energy would interact with the process, would it corrupt the container? Would it summon something akin to a cursed spirit? He didn't know. And that thought, that thought made him smile.
-X-X-X-X-X-
Gudako felt a connection, a line being cast out from her very soul into an unseen ocean. The power in the room swelled with each word she spoke, the air growing thick and heavy.
"I hereby declare. Your body shall serve under me. My fate shall be your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail."
Something had taken the hook. It was coming. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
"If you will submit to this will and this reason…Then answer!"
The circle erupted. A torrent of pure, white light engulfed the chamber, so brilliant and overwhelming that Gudako was forced to shield her eyes.
When the light faded, a woman now stood before her.
She was tall and possessed of a stunning, almost surreal beauty. Long, flowing purple hair cascaded down her back. She was clad in an elegant suit of purple and gold armor over a form-fitting garment, and at her hip rested the lacquered sheath of a long tachi. Her entire presence radiated a profound, almost overwhelming maternal warmth, a gentle and calming aura that instantly soothed the frantic hammering of Gudako's heart.
The woman's eyes opened. They were a soft, gentle amber. Her voice, when she spoke, was melodic, like a half-remembered lullaby, filled with a grace that seemed to belong to a bygone era.
"Servant, Berserker. Minamoto no Raikou, at your service. Ufufu… Is my Master a good–"
Her words cut off abruptly.
Her head snapped to the observational window, towards Sukuna.
The warmth didn't fade.
It evaporated.
Gudako felt it leave the room just as fast as it entered.
Raikou's posture shifted–shoulders straightening, her feet shifting into a defensive stance. One arm sliding back, instinctively placing herself in front of her master, her body forming a protective barrier.
Lightning slowly but surely started crawling across her armor.
"Master… Stand behind me," She commanded.
Gudako stumbled a step backwards, surprised at the sudden movement. Eyes widening as she realised what her new servant was looking at.
"Raikō–wait! He's not–!"
Raikou did not move.
Her head tilted ever so slightly, her lips parting just enough for a soft, disappointed whisper to escape her lips.
"You… carry an old scent. One of carnage and malice. Identify yourself."
Sukuna didn't.
He merely tilted his head, amusement flickering across his features–
A silent challenge.
What would she do if he did not answer the question?
Raikou answered.
She exhaled, and her smile returned–but none of the earlier maternal warmth remained.
"Very well," She muttered, drawing her tachi an inch from its sheath. Lightning crawled along the steel. "If you will not answer… then I shall extract the truth by force."
She vanished.
BOOM!
The impact detonated across the far side of the room, where Sukuna stood unmoving– his upper left arm casually raised, the tachi stopped a few inches from his neck.
The reinforced glass shuddered.
Lights flickered.
Dust vibrated in the air.
Gudako braced for the shockwave–
–but felt only a warm hum.
Raikou had left a thin veil of lightning around her Master, soft as silk yet hard as armor, instinctively shielding her even as she attacked.
Raikou's eyes widened a fraction. She hadn't swung with full strength, but the ease with which this monster blocked her–even with her Mystery Slayer skill activated–shocked her to the core.
Sukuna's grin widened.
"Hoh… now this is interesting."
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Authors Note:
Yo, how's it going guys? Good? Neat.
So–how did you like this chapter?
As you've probably noticed, this chapter was a bit shorter than my usual stuff (normally I hit 4k+ words, this one's a bit over 3k), but I couldn't stretch it without messing up the pacing.
Now I know this chapter feels a little hollow. It doesn't really move the story any forward than the Ritsuka/Gudako acceptance and a bit on Sukuna showing more usage of Seal (Which I have done through a spar, which I know has been repeated again and again in these INTER'S) but the thing is, this is a comeback chapter, just to get into the swing of things, ya know.
Anyway, the major thing I have to ask is how do you feel about the servant choice and if I captured her right? Again it's pretty weird for me to use Raikou cause I don't use her all that much in FGO. If you feel something's off, do tell why. Now it's a very small portion so you might not get everything here but ehhh, can't do much on that.
On another note, Sukuna will summon a servant! WOOHOO! Now I need all of ya to give me some rec's. The type of Servant I want here is someone who thinks of themselves as tools (akin to Uraume). In OG JJK, Sukuna considered Uraume nothing more than a tool but as he has decided to go North, I want him to have that development were he starts considering people more than tools (again no romantic shit, but kinda like how Gil considered Enkidu more than a tool kinds situation).
More content available on my PAT - REON . COM / ST_SCARFACE: INTER 5, FCO Chapter's 3 to 5, 4 chapters of A Pragmatist's Guide to a Prophecy (HP SI AS HARRY) for now.
As always, thanks for all your support. See you in the next one.
Ciao