As the pillar of flame slowly died down, Tsutsumi stood where he was, staring at what remained in front of him. The heat lingered in the air, mixing with the faint smell of burned earth and something heavier that hadn't been there before. The sky above had already darkened, not naturally, but as if something had pushed its way into the world and taken up space where it didn't belong.
High above, the distorted shape of the Holy Grail began to form, the Hole in Heaven opening like a wound that refused to close.
Vessel of the Grail, Illyasviel von Einzbern's destruction had forced it open.
A moment later, the black mud began to pour out.
It didn't trickle or hesitate. It came down all at once, like a broken dam, a heavy, suffocating flood that crashed into the ruined park and spread outward without resistance. Within seconds, it swallowed everything, trees, ground, debris, spilling past the battlefield and into the surrounding city.
What was left of the area didn't last long.
Between the fire and the black mud, the city around them was reduced to something unrecognizable.
Artoria has just finished killing Gilgamesh before she and her Master were both submerged in the black mud.
For a brief moment, there was nothing but darkness.
Then Tsutsumi rose from the massive tide of black mud.
The mud slid off him, dripping from his shoulders and arms. His clothes had been burned away, but aside from that, there wasn't a single visible injury. If anything, the feeling was the opposite. There was no discomfort, no resistance from the mud itself. It didn't reject him, and it didn't try to consume him either.
It felt… familiar.
He flicked his wrist, pulling out a card.
Form Ride: Decade.
Holding it between his fingers, he looked at it for a moment longer than usual.
"So this black mud was your doing, huh?" he murmured.
The feeling from the card matched the mud perfectly. There was no difference between them.
Tracing the card back to its origin, he knew that his card was originally the Class Card of the Avenger Servant, Angra Mainyu.
A heroic spirit that in a way... perfectly matched his identity.
Angra Mainyu was once an ordinary villager. A human who, one day, was randomly chosen as the "source of all evil in the world" by his village and was tortured and sacrificed in the ensuing rituals.
The villagers, who were suffering from various disasters, eventually came to need a scapegoat for blaming their troubles on. This scapegoat would be designated to be a demon and be chosen to be the reason for all the calamities afflicting the village.
Simultaneously, he would be chosen to be the source of all the world's evil, and by his existence, the villagers would have to be good by nature.
Decade wasn't that different.
It didn't matter what he did in any worlds he visited. Help, destroy, fix, ignore; it all led to the same result eventually. Worlds merged, stories overlapped, and everything reset again. The cause didn't matter. The result stayed the same.
So it was easier for everything to point back at him. If something went wrong, it was because he was there.
If something ended, it was because he existed.
The black mud shifted around him, almost as if responding to that thought, no longer just flowing aimlessly but settling in a way that felt… aligned.
This Grail had been corrupted by Angra Mainyu. Now, that same existence had found something that matched it, and the two existences began to merge.
"Ryoko…" The voice came from nearby.
He turned his head slightly.
Artoria rose not far from him, also bathed by the black mud. Her clothes have completely burned off, revealing a change in her appearance. Her hair had lost some of its original color, becoming lighter, closer to silver, and her eyes carried a sharper gold than before.
There was something different in how she looked at him now, but it wasn't something simple.
"You really are the worst," she said, her tone steady as she stepped closer. "Bringing something like this into the world."
Tsutsumi didn't argue. Instead, he looked down at her as she stopped in front of him.
"So what are you going to do about it?"
There wasn't any challenge in his voice, just a straightforward question.
Artoria held his gaze for a moment.
"I'm going to kill you." she said.
But she didn't move to attack. She stepped closer instead, leaning her body weight onto him, their naked bodies touching, covered only by the black mud released from the corrupted Grail.
"…Before that, there's something I want to ask."
Tsutsumi didn't interrupt.
Her hand rested lightly against his chest as she positioned herself on top of him.
"Until this ends… can you grant me one wish?" she said quietly. "Can you... Continue to see me like how you normally would?"
There was no hesitation in her voice when she said it, but there was something deeper behind it, something she hadn't put into words before.
For most of her life, she had only been seen as a role.
A king. A symbol. A weapon for others to rely on.
Her entire life had been nothing more than that, created to meet the perfect image of King. Someone who, despite all her effort and glory, couldn't understand the heart of man. Her upbringing and origin make it nearly impossible for her to do. Even her wish for the Holy Grail was meant for her kingdom, not having any desire of her own.
Even when everything falls, she still sees herself as a King who failed her people, a ruler who couldn't meet the expectations of everybody.
The identity of the King of Knights has become a cage that seals away the simple farm girl named Artoria.
Only when she was around him was this cage knocked open.
He didn't treat her like something distant or untouchable. He didn't place her on a pedestal, and he didn't follow her like others would. If anything, he was blunt, sometimes careless, but always direct.
He didn't make her feel like she needed to put up the act of a righteous knight in front of him.
Tsutsumi looked at her for a few seconds.
He understood what she meant now that they were connected through the black mud together; he could understand the complex emotions she felt for him. And in a way, he could understand and sympathize with her.
She hates him. Yet he has been the only one who ever saw her as more than just the King of Knights; he sees her for who she is, hidden underneath that identity. That makes her love him.
A complicated, twisted mix of love-hate.
"That will never change, you will forever be my useless Saber," he said simply.
She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "There really is nothing good that can come out of that mouth of yours."
Still, she didn't pull from him. Artoria leaned down, her bare, slender, pale arms wrapped around his neck as their lips met. His hands slowly move down her bare back, before reaching lower as the two dripped aimlessly in the chaotic tide of the black mud as the world burned around them.
Hours passed without either of them keeping track.
Eventually, Artoria finally pulled back, separating herself from him. She stretched her back lightly, letting out a few pops, before stretching her other sore muscles.
Her hand gently moved to her stomach, feeling his warmth left inside her, closing her eyes and letting herself enjoy this warmth one last time. Then her posture returned to normal, her armor began to reform around her. The colors had changed from their once bright silver and blue to a darker, black and purple, with many crimson corrupted lines running through them.
Tsutsumi stretched his shoulder once, cracked his neck, then pulled out a card and placed it into his Driver.
"Henshin."
Form Ride: Decade!
The familiar outfit formed around him, the long magenta coat settling against the blazing wind as he looked back at her.
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
There wasn't much left to say.
The world around them had already been reduced to something else entirely, and they had shared their special moment.
Artoria drew out her corrupted Excalibur, the blackened blade resting steady in her grasp as she faced him. The light around it wasn't warm or radiant anymore, but it still carried weight, something familiar beneath the corruption.
Tsutsumi unsheathed the cracked Nameless in his hand, the fractured surface catching what little light remained in the ruined world. Even broken, it hadn't lost its shape or its purpose. He lifted his other hand toward her, calm, like nothing around them had changed.
"Would you like to dance with me one last time?" he asked, a small, easy smile forming, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes but didn't need to.
Artoria met his gaze from across the scorched ground. For a moment, the destruction between them didn't matter. She smiled back, soft and certain.
"I would love to."
They moved at the same time.
Steel met steel as they closed the distance, their blades crashing together with a force that echoed across the burned, hollow world. The ground beneath them was uneven, soaked in black mud and ash, but neither of them faltered. Her corrupted Excalibur cut cleanly through his fractured blade, snapping it apart again and again, yet every time it shattered, the pieces pulled themselves back together.
They didn't slow down.
Each step, each swing, felt familiar. Their movements matched, clashed, separated, and returned, like something they had done countless times before.
Blood traced lines down their arms, their bodies, dripping quietly into the dark sludge beneath their feet. It disappeared into the black mud without a sound, leaving no mark behind. Still, neither of them stopped.
Her blade came down again, faster this time. The corrupted Excalibur tore through his right arm in a clean arc, sending it spinning away into the ruined distance. There was no hesitation in her strike, no mercy held back. And yet, Tsutsumi didn't react the way someone should.
Instead, with his remaining hand, he calmly drew a card and slid it into his Driver.
Attack Ride: Ki-Ki-Ki-Kiva!
He thrust his palm forward. A swarm of black bats, edged in a faint magenta glow, burst outward and flooded the space between them. Their screeches cut through the air as they rushed toward her.
Artoria stepped back once, just enough to steady herself, her blade igniting as she moved. Three precise swings, clean, controlled, and the swarm split apart, dissolving into nothing before it could reach her.
The moment the last of them vanished, her eyes lifted. Tsutsumi stood there; his arm had already returned.
There was no surprise in her expression. Just a quiet understanding. She pushed forward again.
Her blade came down toward him with weight behind it, something more than force driving the strike. Tsutsumi responded in kind, drawing the Zanvat Sword and casting aside its limiter in the same motion, bringing it up to meet her attack.
The clash rang out sharply.
From there, they didn't separate.
Their fight became a rhythm, becoming a dance shared between them. Step, strike, turn, return. Their blades met and parted, sparks and fragments scattering with each impact.
Artoria shifted her footing, creating just enough space to breathe. She brought her corrupted Excalibur into both hands and raised it above her head. The air around her began to change, the light bending, twisting into something darker as red energy flared and coiled upward, forming a black and purple vortex overhead.
"Sheathed in the breath of the stars, a torrent of shining life."
Her voice stayed steady, even now.
Tsutsumi let the Zanvat Sword fall away.
In its place, he brought out the Perfect Zecter, already holding another card between his fingers. He didn't rush. There was no urgency in the movement as he set it into his Driver.
Final Attack Ride: Ka-Ka-Ka-Kabuto!
The response came instantly.
The Drake, TheBee, and Sasword Zecters converged, locking into place along the Perfect Zecter as he gripped it with both hands. The weapon reacted, surging with energy as lightning cracked outward, wrapping around the blade before condensing into a vivid magenta glow.
He raised it slightly, angling it forward.
"Feel its wrath."
Without hesitation or pause. They stepped in at the same time.
"Maximum Hyper Typhoon!"
"Excalibur!"
The two attacks collided head-on.
Light and darkness tore into each other, the force of the impact swallowing everything around them as the world seemed to collapse inward for a single moment. Then, all at once, it released, an explosion that erased the ground beneath their feet and pushed the black mud back in a wide, hollow ring.
As the light faded, the mud slowly began to recede, pulling itself back toward the massive crater left behind, as if drawn to it.
At the center of it, they stay by each other's side.
Artoria leaned backward, her strength gave way quietly as she rested against him, her weight settling into his arms without resistance. Tsutsumi lowered himself with her, one hand supporting her head, the other steady at her back as he eased her down.
Up close, her expression remains soft and gentle, despite the corrupt nature of her appearance and weapon.
She looked up at him, as if trying to hold onto the moment just a little longer. Her body had already begun to break apart, small motes of golden light drifting away from her form, rising slowly into the air.
"Thank you… for everything… Ryo." Her voice was quiet, but it didn't waver.
Tsutsumi didn't answer right away.
He just stayed there, holding her, as if letting the words settle instead of trying to respond to them. His grip didn't tighten, didn't falter.
After a moment, he spoke. "Goodbye, Artoria."
The last of her light slipped from his arms, dissolving into the air until there was nothing left to hold. The red command seal on the back of his hand faded soon after, its glow dimming until it vanished completely.
Tsutsumi stayed there a while longer, kneeling in the black mud at the center of the crater.