Kirei Kotomine's night ended in a peculiar calm. Steve neither hugged nor comforted Caren; he simply sat there quietly, giving her the time and space she needed to process such a sudden, yet inescapable ending.
Caren said nothing more. After a long silence, she returned to the organ and, with her fingertips, played a melody—not quite a song, perhaps, but a sound that brought a sense of comfort.
The two remained silent until late into the night.
…
The next morning, Fuyuki City greeted a crystal-clear day after the rain. Sunlight streamed through thin clouds, and the entire city looked clean and bright.
Steve stood on the apartment balcony, enjoying the cool morning breeze, but his mind drifted elsewhere.
While Kirei Kotomine's story had concluded, in this small city, like the final stubborn cloud in the sky, another unresolved regret was waiting for him to bring its end.
Artoria Pendragon.
Having survived the Holy Grail War ten years ago and now, entrusted by Steve, fighting alongside the people of Chaldea as the Knight King.
Steve shook his head and left home, walking familiar streets until he arrived at a Japanese-style house hidden deep in the mountains, home to tales from countless other timelines—Emiya residence (front building). Today, this was Saber's dwelling.
He rang the doorbell.
A moment later, the wooden door opened quietly, and the face Steve knew so well appeared. Artoria wore a simple white turtleneck sweater with a blue knee-length skirt. Her long golden hair was gathered loosely in a hairband, and she held a wiping cloth in one hand.
She looked nothing like the imposing Knight King, but rather like a quiet neighbor spending her weekend cleaning.
When she saw Steve at the door, a flash of surprise rose in her clear green eyes, but she immediately recovered her composure, adopting a queenly bearing.
"Good morning, Steve. What a rare guest. Please, come in."
She stepped aside and courteously invited him in.
The house was spotlessly clean, with sunlight pouring through paper screens, casting soft dapples across the polished wooden floor. The air was softly scented with tea and sunlight—pleasant, but tinged with the loneliness unique to those who live alone.
The two sat facing each other at the low living room table. Artoria brewed a steaming pot of tea for him.
"So, how have the past ten years been for you?" Steve asked, holding the warm teacup, starting the conversation casually.
"Peaceful… and fulfilling." Artoria's answer was measured, accompanied by a gentle smile. "Thanks to you, I've been able to experience life free from the shackles of war and duty. I've learned so many things—from cooking to how to use a TV remote."
"That's wonderful." Steve nodded, then gently shifted his gaze and spoke more seriously. "So… have you really let go of your wish entirely?"
Artoria paused, teacup in hand. She stopped moving for just a moment—the kind of barely perceptible hesitation of someone arranging their thoughts.
"...Perhaps." Eyes lowered, she gazed into her swirling tea. "Ten years of peace have given me plenty of time to contemplate. I'm coming to understand that one cannot fight against the flow of history. Even if a king were to be chosen anew, Britain's fate likely wouldn't change. I… no longer obsess over such unrealistic wishes."
"But you are still here." Steve Weis cut straight to the crux of the issue. "If you'd truly let go and severed all ties with this world, you would have returned to your ideal land, and would not respond to any summons. You wouldn't still be living in this era like a living human."
Artoria's lips moved, but no words came out.
Her emerald eyes revealed deep, indescribable confusion and sorrow. Yes, she could not refute him.
She claimed peace, but a heavy guilt still fettered her, invisible yet binding her spirit to this world. She could not forgive herself for not having saved Britain.
Seeing this, Steve sighed softly in his heart. He knew only powerful intervention could resolve Saber's inner conflict.
In the original, that external force was the boy Emiya Shirou, who fully embraced her past and tried to illuminate her future with his ideals.
But in this timeline, Shirou hadn't inherited the Emiya name. He was just an ordinary boy, living a normal life with his parents, and it was impossible for the two to forge the same connection again.
Would Steve step in himself and try to free this Knight King through love?
He pondered this for a moment before dismissing the idea. Personal preferences aside, just picturing living for centuries with this upright king, tending sheep in the grasslands of Avalon, sent shivers down his spine.
No, that would be too late, too dull. He needed to find a more direct, efficient way to bring Saber happiness—in fact, to bring a perfect close to the Knight King's story.
[To truly help someone, you must see it through to the end.]
Steve resolved in his heart.
Setting down his cup, he spoke to the confused knight before him in calm tone.
"Artoria," he said, smiling and meeting her bewildered blue gaze. "Would you like to meet… your living descendant in this era?"
—Crack—
In the next instant, Artoria's white porcelain teacup dinged sharply against its saucer—a sound unexpectedly loud in the quiet living room.
Her body tensed instantly. Those emerald eyes widened, filling with utter shock and disbelief, trembling at the echo of ancient memories—a confusing tangle of pain and fear.
Descendant? In this era? How could that possibly be…?
Yet, though she wanted to dismiss Steve's words as sheer nonsense, something in his tone implied an answer too real to ignore...