He is born under a red sky.
An expanse of crimson that stretches over his head and past the horizon. A beautiful sight, but one that carries a deeper meaning. Liners and A-Rays alike would not know what to make of it. It is their last hope, a barrier keeping out the Aristotles, but also their cage, reminding them of the cosmic horrors just above their atmosphere. A hopeless fight. Seventy-seven Ether Liners, the knights of the Liners, and less than a hundred A-Rays, up against the rest of the planets’ Ultimate Ones.
It was in these circumstances, under the crimson sky, that Ado Edem is born.
He is gifted with a rare ability, having been infused with Grain in his body when he was still developing as a fetus. But neither he nor his parents know about it. A normal child in a normal family - living the normal, desperate lives that Liners live.
Ado Edem had learned many things, such as how Liners were once almost wiped out as a race due to a catastrophic event, but either adapted or modified themselves to survive in the new Grain-rich environment. A-Rays were their enemy; artificially created before the death of the world. They had challenged the Liners for supremacy over the dead husk that used to be Gaia. He also learned that the seventy-seven Ether Liners, who could form Knight Arms with crystallised Grain, are the heroes of humanity; and that without them, they would’ve perished in the Great War against the A-Rays. There were also the Six Sisters, once the rulers of the A-Rays, who had turned the sky red with Type-Pluto’s blood and erected a barrier to stop the last two Aristotles from entering the dead planet. Only three Aristotles remain on the planet, one of which slumbers in a deserted continent.
He also learned that there used to be a blue sky.
It was in the last years of the Great War when Ado Edem matured. The world was in chaos; the two Aristotles are slowly but steadily razing the planet, yet the Liners and A-Rays continue to fight each other. He joined his fellow Liners on the front line against the A-Rays, but he is just another soldier – one of many nameless faces who are but sacrificial pawns to continue the war. This would continue until the Ether Liners and the A-Rays came to understand who the true foes were.
It was on his twentieth birthday when the Liners and A-Rays finally formed an alliance against the Aristotles. Before that, the Ether Liners had worked with a few A-Rays to defeat Type-Mars; an Ultimate One that unlike its fellow Aristotles, wasted no time in destroying everything alive. Without a formal alliance, however, both groups returned to fighting each other after Type-Mars was defeated.
Despite the agreement cooperate, the situation was growing increasingly dire. The Six Sisters had died in exchange for sealing Type-Neptune and Type-Uranus above the atmosphere; the Ether Liners grow weary of battle; the remaining Aristotles advance steadily.
One day, Ado Edem awakens to his power, and he summons his Knight Arm for the first time. His weapon is unlike any other— it is a blade that expands at the speed of thought, and can grow as large as his enemy. It grants him the power to kill the Aristotles in a single slash, in exchange for consuming the planet. Able to be concealed in an unassuming seed-like form, it is a weapon that knew no equal in his age.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, he joins the Ether Liners as the seventy-eighth knight and exterminated Type-Jupiter in a battle above the Western Continent. The Ultimate One, who had exterminated most of the world with its black photon gas, does not stand a chance. Its core goes out of control, and incinerates the entire continent.
And so Ado Edem returns not as a hero, but as a villain - a man who was directly responsible for the destruction of an entire continent.
Despite this, no one dares to speak against him publicly. He is the only one who could end the war without much bloodshed. Ado Edem knows this, and devotes his time to training his body in hopes that he could serve his fellow Liners and save the world from more pain.
The following year he kills Type-Saturn - a relay unit for the Aristotles. This time its brethren responds. The being that had slumbered for millennia awakens, and slaughtered everything in its way. The final battle has begun.
Ado Edem prepares for battle, knowing that if he was able to succeed, there would finally be peace. Unfortunately, his overwhelming power had caused both the Liners and A-Rays fear the only one who could grant them victory.
They naturally feared what they could not comprehend, and Ado Edem had long since surpassed the term “Ether Liner”. He was the pinnacle of what could be achieved. Rather than taking advantage of their only hope, they lock Ado Edem in a castle with a thousand chains, and proceede to battle the most dangerous being ever encountered on their own.
One by one the knights fall, and one by one the A-Rays edge closer to extinction.
And yet, they refuse to let him fight.
Ado Edem, the sword of the Liners, was chained down and left to rust as the world died around him.
He cries out in desperation, struggling against his chains and cursing his fate. He had failed to protect his people, and he could only regret his actions.
And then when it was almost over, when almost the entire world had been defeated, he manages to loosen his chains. He knows there is no more hope, and that the world is beyond saving. Even still, he knows there is also a way for him to prevent this from ever happening again. He summons his Knight Arm from the seed in his palm one last time.
He directs his attack on himself.
As the world grew dark under the final Aristotle’s power, Ado Edem dies by his own hand and becomes a guardian of humanity, hoping that he would somehow save the world from its ghastly fate.
Day 9
Zouken's Feel
Near Side
Interlude 9-2
Genesis
“Lancer…”
“…yes, Shirou-san?”
“Do you think it’s really asleep?”
“I would guess so. If it isn’t we probably would be dead by now.”
They stand in front of what appears to be a crystallised forest, the trees and shrubbery gleaming even in the misty moonlight. While they stand on unaltered grass, the grass a few metres ahead of them shine with an unearthly glow. And there is no sound coming from the forest. No beasts, no insects, not even the slightest of breezes passing through it. It is almost as if the forest exists on another plane of existence, outside of the great Reality Marble of Gaia. It is a sight that would cause any person to stare in awe—
—and then recoil in fear when they realise exactly what it is.
It is foreign, extraterrestrial, just like how the Crimson Moon was never meant to be on this planet. But if Crimson Moon was like a virus seeping into the world with his Dead Apostles, this place is like a festering wound that will never close. Such is the place feared by magi, vampires and Church members alike— Crystal Valley.
Anything that steps within Crystal Valley is no longer subjected to the laws of Gaia, and instead are at the mercy of something else entirely. It can be compared to a Reality Marble, but it is on a completely different level. Even the former Fifth Dead Apostle Ancestor, a monster in his own right, had fallen victim to it, dying in mere seconds.
But more dangerous than Crystal Valley is the being who had created it in the first place. After all, such a power is but a
passive ability of a slumbering being—
—standing forty metres tall and towering above the forest itself.
ORT, or Type-Mercury, an alien being that cannot be described in any human way. With a passive ability serving as an impregnable shield, it has had slumbered for millennia, waiting for the call of its brethren. There are no words to describe it, for there are no words that humanity has devised to describe that which is completely unknown to Gaia’s laws. And there is no way to fight it, for it does not follow the laws of Gaia.
In other words, it has no concept of death. One would have to completely destroy its body to defeat it, a feat that is impossible with Crystal Valley constantly activated.
As if to further highlight how impregnable its defence is, the Wizard Marshall himself had declined getting rid of it. By refusing to even consider fighting it, he sent a clear message to everyone— if they are below him in power, they don’t stand a chance of winning against this monster.
“You called me here just to look at this tin can?”
The baritone voice of the person next to them growls out in annoyance.
Lord El-Melloi II, a famous lecturer in the Clock Tower, accompanies the two heroes. Shirou had asked Tohsaka to send him a letter, telling him that a Servant and a Master of the Fifth Holy Grail War will require his presence in South America for a small project involving a Noble Phantasm. His curiosity piqued, he sends a cordial letter back, stating his interest.
His disposition as he stands with them now, however, is far from cordial.
“I thought you said there was something interesting. This…this is just ORT. What’s so special about it?”
Shirou blinks in confusion. “It’s an Aristotles. Surely that’s interesting enough?”
“—no, it’s not!” Lord El-Melloi II retorts angrily. “Look, this thing has been here since who knows when. It doesn’t care about us, we don't care about it. I didn’t come all the way out here to see this tin can with some boy who hasn’t seen it before!”
He takes a long draw from his cigar and walks away from the two. He mutters venomously, “Goddamn Nips, the only thing they’re good for is making vid—“
“—destroy it from here?”
“…what.” El-Melloi II states flatly as he overhears their conversation.
“—I don’t see how distance is a problem, Shirou-san. It’s just a matter of whether the concept applies to it—”
“…wait! Waitwaitwait!” he shouts as he runs back to them. “Did you…did you just say you wanted to—”
“—Destroy it?” the Servant asks nonchalantly. “Why else would we be here?”
“That’s why we called you here, as a representative of the Clock Tower,” Shirou adds. “This way, you guys don’t have to worry about where this thing has gone.”
“…are you insane?”
El-Melloi II cannot believe what he is hearing. A being millennia old, with no concept of death, and they speak so casually about killing it.
Lancer merely ignores his question and turns to Shirou. “Well, Aristotles are made mostly of Grain, so I’m not sure how it’ll disperse when I cut it in half.”
Then, he blinks and adds quickly, “Assuming I can actually cut it in half, that is. I’ve never fought an Aristotles with such an ability before.”
Shirou merely shrugs. “Well, if your Knight Arm can’t kill it, the world’s doomed anyway. We should try, at the very least.” he says. Then, he looks at Lancer directly. “After all, this thing killed both of our worlds.”
El-Melloi feels he is out of the loop. Nothing they speak of makes any sense to him.
“—Grain? Knight Arm? Worlds? What on earth are the two of you talking about?”
Lancer glances over at him dispassionately. “Nothing you need to know of. Just know that this is a monster both of us must overcome,” he says as he materialises his black helm and armour. “For now, just stay back and watch.”
“…look, I don’t know what Heroic Spirit you are, bu—”
“Whenever you’re ready, Lancer.”
“Then I’ll activate it, Shirou-san.”
Shirou walks away from Lancer, and sends a look towards El-Melloi II, as if telling him to come with him if he doesn’t want to die.
Just as he is about to complain about being ignored, he is hit by a red wave of…something from the Servant. It isn’t prana, yet he feels immense power from it nonetheless. He wisely takes a few steps back.
“That is no ordinary Servant,” he mutters to himself. Even his Servant, the King of Conquerers did not hold this much power within him.
“Servant Lancer…what is your Noble Phantasm?”
~~~
In front of him, the seed embedded in Lancer’s right palm pulses, producing a swirling red vortex of pure Grain around his hand.
Then, it awakens.
Bones white as snow grow out of Lancer’s entire hand. It is a growth that looks cancerous, as if they were desperate in escaping as his proof of his knighthood decompresses itself into the open. They are twisted and grotesque, spires of bone that should not exist within a human. And yet, all eyes are drawn to it, as it grows ever larger, forming a cage of ivory tipped by hints of black.
And on one spire, the black tip erupts into a dagger-like blade, facing towards the ground. Lancer turns to Shirou, as if asking for one last confirmation.
Shirou nods, and the blade extends downwards, stabbing the ground and rooting itself within the crust. Other spires of bone next to it fuse with the blade as it grows wider.
“Target: Type-Mercury,” Lancer whispers. And the moment these words leave his lips—
—the blade
grows.
—no, one cannot call it ‘growing’, for growing would refer to something increasing in size over time. But this is different. A moment before that, the blade is about a metre long. A moment later, and it is forty metres long.
It expands at the speed of thought, a speed that would only be bested by instantaneous attacks. The origin of its power is not the user, but rather, the planet itself. The Knight Arm takes a chunk of the world in payment for its absolute dominance, its absolute promise of victory to its user.
It is, in a way, a representation of humanity itself: it feeds on the world and preys on it, but depends on its existence to continue functioning.
Even Emiya Shirou, who knows of how this Noble Phantasm works in theory, is awed by its presence. He steps back involuntarily, his eyes fixated on the towering black blade, the ultimate expression of humanity’s power.
Lancer does not notice this, nor does he notice anything that is happening around him. His face, under his black helm, is dotted with beads of sweat as he prepares his blade attack in an atmosphere with no Grain. While most of the power is sapped from the world, it still requires him to expend a copious amount of Grain from himself to activate its ability.
“So this is how Shirou-san feels when he projects…?” he thinks.
“But…what is this pain when compared to—”
He grits his teeth and begins to fly upwards. Propelled by his black armour, he can stay in the air for extended periods of time. The blade stabbed into the ground hisses and rises up slowly, released from its source of power. As it does so, the ground beneath Lancer cracks and splits with a resounding roar. The crevice and the land next to it is completely lifeless, an extension of the planet that is completely drained. Nothing but glass and steel will grow on it until the end of time.
But Lancer is not concerned, and neither is Shirou. Both of them know very well that the alternative is a completely dead world.
As he flies up above the crystal trees, Lancer focuses on his target. He keeps a wary distance away from the boundaries of Crystal Valley, but other than that, he pays no attention to other factors.
His mind is clear. There is no hesitation, and there is no doubt in his heart. This is why he chose to be a Counter Guardian. This is his duty.
This is his purpose.
He raises his right arm. The weight of the sword is nothing to him.
And with a bellow that would shake the very heavens, Ado Edem calls out his Knight Arm’s true name.
“Knight Arm: Slash Emperor!”
The sword paints the sky around it blue, and it descends mercilessly upon the alien.
~~~
Emiya Shirou stands far below Lancer, rooted to the ground as he is only able to gape at the sheer implausibility of Lancer’s ultimate attack. It is a sword that has transcended all weapons, the absolute crystallisation of the pinnacle of humanity.
But he is able to understand part of it, due to Lancer’s explanations as they travelled to South America. For one, he knows that the blue glow around the sword isn’t actually a blue glow. It is the sword parting the very skies to reveal the “true” blue sky.
This is because the Slash Emperor forces the concept of ‘Truth’ upon its foes. Anything in its path is eradicated, as if it were carrying the collective will of humanity on its edge.
It is a sword that knows no peer on Earth, but now it is about to meet its first true test: the ultimate being of the ultimate beings.
The sword swings through the air, and reaches the aerial boundaries of Crystal Valley—
—and continues downward, its concept triumphing over ORT's ability.
And in less than a second, it reaches the Aristotles’ body, and cuts into it without any resistance, slashing across the silver-green body from the top right.
—but. The sword stops halfway. It is not that the sword cannot slice through it completely.
Rather, it is Lancer himself who cannot continue.
Blood drips from his helm as he coughs up crystallised Grain. The very fact that he has been able to materialise his blade in such an alien environment is already a feat in itself. Carrying out his most powerful attack had strained his body to its limits, and he has to pay for it.
“N-No…” he growls in agony and despair. “Not right now…”
He wills his arm to move. And the sword rises slightly to deliver the final blow. But then—
ORT awakens.
The most powerful of the Types awakens from its slumber a thousand years too early. But it has awakened to defend itself from perishing before the promised time. The lines on its body begin to grow green for the first time in more than seven thousand years.
Then Lancer feels
it. He does not know what it is, for there is no way to describe something that he can never understand, but it is a feeling of death. If it had eyes, maybe ORT was staring at him. Or maybe it was directing its anger at him. But ORT is a being that has transcended sensory organs and emotions.
Lancer cannot comprehend anything about it, but he knows he is about to die for awakening it. The feeling of death is absolute, just like Slash Emperor’s absolute power. He does not know how, but he knows from his very core, and in every fibre of his being, that he will die.
"—Is this the power of Type-Mercury…?” he wonders to himself.
“Then…it was only natural that I wouldn’t be able to beat it. Not when I’m like this.”
He closes his tired eyes, but as he does so—
“—is that all you have, Future King of Humans?”
He hears a voice call out to him.
—accompanied by a whirring sound that eclipses all other noises in the area.
It grows louder and louder, and Lancer tiredly turns his head to the left.
Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, stands next to him, decked in full golden armour, holding a cylindrical crimson sword aloft. Lancer instinctively knows that the sword is like no other. Just like how his Slash Emperor stands above all weapons in his time, this sword stands above all of humanity in this era.
“I saw your attack,” Gilgamesh says, his voice somehow carrying itself above the sound of his sword. “You really do stand on the same ground as I, Future King.”
“…what…?” Lancer asks, his mind clouded by exhaustion. But as his eyes meets the golden Servant’s red ones, his mind begins to clear, knowing that the man who stands before him is no ordinary Servant. “You are Gilgamesh...!”
“For a man to finally obtain the power that I wield…and one that isn’t chosen by the Gods…” Gilgamesh says excitedly. “Hah! I was right to have come out here! Now, tell me your name!”
“Ado Edem, the seventy-eighth Ether Liner, and wielder of the Knight Arm Slash Emperor,” Lancer spits out the blood in his mouth as he replies.
“Well met, King Edem!” Gilgamesh laughs as the sword he is holding spins even faster. “Now that you’ve shown me your ‘Truth’, let me show you my ‘Truth’…!”
If Lancer’s Slash Emperor was an unstoppable slash of pure power, then Gilgamesh’s attack is an inescapable vortex of pure power. A layer of wind, compressed and accelerated to levels that transcend space and time, creating an artificial space-time dislocation. The crushing spatial rends would obliterate anything in its way, just like how its wielder would crush anything in his way.
Such is the power the King of Heroes holds, which, until just now, had not been matched.
But Gilgamesh has finally witnessed humanity’s answer to the Gods, and he has seen that humanity has finally risen above their lowly status. The King next to him, the one who has reached his threshold of power, is living proof that his defiance against the Gods back in the time of Uruk has not been in vain.
“Now then, show him your true power, Ea!”
“Enuma Elish—!”
The red torrent is released. It hurtles towards the ancient being, and slams into it mercilessly—
—it
screams.
It is the closest description to the noise that the celestial being makes. Perhaps it knows of pain, or perhaps not, but it releases a sound that no one can describe.
That sound brings Lancer back completely. His mind is clear again, and he focuses on his blade once more.
“Knight Arm: Slash Emperor!”
The black blade slices through ORT’s body just as its front portion is being torn apart by the red vortex.
It does not even make a sound when it happens. Perhaps it cannot, or perhaps it chooses not to. It is something no one will ever know. But one thing is for certain—
ORT’s body is sliced cleanly into half, its core completely destroyed, and the vortex of space-time dislocation erases the rest of it from existence with torrent after torrent of power.
—and then, just like that, Type-Mercury, the ultimate one of the Ultimate Ones, a being far superior to any human, dies under the swords of two men who have truly reached the pinnacle of humanity.
Lancer drops down from the sky immediately, his body having been pushed past its limits. But his fall is stopped by a golden arm.
Gilgamesh floats down slowly, touching the ground gracefully and placing Lancer carefully onto the ground, his red eyes showing genuine concern.
“Lancer!” Shirou cries as he runs towards the duo. He pauses in front of Gilgamesh, however, and takes a fighting stance. “You…why did you…?”
“Hmm?” Gilgamesh asks as he dispels his golden armour. “What, a King cannot trim a weed in his garden? It is embarrassing enough to have another King take care of my own mess.”
He dusts his black designer jacket, and walks towards Shirou. “Don’t be so tense, Faker. I am not in the mood to fight rabble today,” he says as he walks past him. “I’ve witnessed something that I never thought I would, and I’m in a very good mood. Do try not to dampen my spirits with your idiocy.”
“Tch,” Shirou says grudgingly, walking away reluctantly, knowing that he would not stand a chance against Gilgamesh by himself. “I suppose I have to thank you for helping today.”
“I do not need the thanks of a mongrel,” Gilgamesh replies immediately. Then, he turns his head around and glances at the armoured body on the ground. “Tell King Edem to recover quickly. I demand a battle with him.”
As he is about to leave, he notices the fourth figure in the clearing.
“Hoh? Why, aren’t you his…”
Lord El-Melloi II’s eyes widen as he recognises the man from his youth. “You’re…Gilgamesh…!” he says in wonder. “H-How are you still here?”
Gilgamesh laughs as he hears the question. It is not a sound full of malice or pride that he usually makes. Rather, it is a sound of pure joy, something he has not made ever since the death of his dear friend. Holding his head in his hand, he continues to laugh until his euphoria wears off.
“—ahaha. Today really is a great day! To think I would witness humanity’s greatest achievement, and then meet
that person’s follower…!”
He turns to the man once known as Waver Velvet. “I see that you are dressed in his colours. You truly are worthy of my mercy, boy.”
El-Melloi II bows in response. “I am only serving my King in the ways that I can.”
“Good,” Gilgamesh says as he walks away, waving his right hand. “Live well, Waver Velvet. Unlike that Faker, you have meaning in this world.”
As Gilgamesh walks to the edge of the clearing, he leaps into the trees and vanishes from sight, leaving the three men alone in the clearing.
“…Faker…?” El-Melloi II wonders aloud.
A/N
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by Forum FAQ
— !"
: Now then, since we’re taking a break before starring in the Heaven’s Feel movies, we’re here to help you!
: That’s right! This is your once-in-a-lifetime chance to experience how it is to be a main character!
: Gaooo, poor Shinji-chan, only having a worm pit as a help corner. You must few even more jealous of Shirou-chan now.
: But Taiga, Shinji deserves it. He raped an innocent girl, you know.
: Uguu, that’s true. 
: Alright, since we’re here, we’ll help you this once. Senior student?
: Haaai! Goldie-kun was too loud with his attack, so Lancer noticed you. You have to be sneaky, like a worm. Go back to the previous choice and pick another option!
: Maybe you’ll die again, but you’re Shinji, so no one cares~
: Gah, so cold! But she’s right, Shin-chan, not even the minor characters know who you are~
: Well then, that's it for this time!
: Welcome to Kotomine’s Church of Yuetsu. Hoh, we finally have a visitor. 
: What is this place, you ask? Why, it is the place where all seekers of yuetsu end up in, for it is their fate to start their adventure from a church, and end their adventure in a church. 
: …
: Naturally, Shinji is always pathetic.
: Ah, the nun of this church appears.
: I’m not a nun, you fake priest.
: Hoh, does that mean you still please old men for money?
: I hope you get stabbed by a cursed lance.
: Very well, let’s move on to why you have died, Matou Shinji. It is because your mind is weak. When your mind is weak, your body too, becomes weak. Thus is the fate of those who fight fate, and fight the power of the school’s rumour mill. Your lust also plays a part, making you weak-minded and picking a choice that seems to contain an ecchi scene. But then again, you are Matou Shinji. This is a natural end to a boy who refuses to bow to his saviour God and accept Salvation from the Fuyuki Church.
: In other words, go to the church.
: Hoh, you’re actually helping the boy?
: Of course. He’s dirty, but he’s still a protagonist.
: W-w-why you-
: Goodbye, and I hope you are dead again the next time our paths cross.
: Welcome to the special edition of— 
: A-a-and the temporary assistant, S-S-S—”
: That useless Kariya, he’s not doing his job properly! Where did he crawl off to?
: Osu! Let’s forget about that worm and enjoy today’s session! We’ve invited a guest today! Let’s welcome Mitsuzuri Ayako~
: Hi everyone! Great to finally meet you all!
: It’s too bad my first appearance is in a Hint Corner though, not in the main story…
: Poor Ayako, she’s always abandoned by authors. 
: We always get thrown under the bus for blonde gaijin women, violent old hags and bags of worms. 
: Too bad I don’t have the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception in the Fate/Tsukihime universe. I would’ve claimed a route easily if I had them…!
: But at least people still love us, unlike a certain girl…
: Everyone loves me~
: …
: Haaaaai~
: Bonjour! The hint corner for Tsukihime protagonists, who has ended up in this Dead End with no idea of what is happening! It is time for "Teach me, Ciel-sensei!”
: But…you’re not a Tsukihime character. Why are you here…?
: Ah, I see now. You’re rather bold, trying to cross into a different Visual Novel to try and escape your fate. And you even made it to Misaki Town before dying!
: About helping you…I don’t really want to help a wormy who ran away…but then again, that worthless Kariya Pit did it, so I should set an example as the superior hint corner...
: ...Let’s get this over with. You should try and choose a choice that will give you the best chances of survival. That means staying in Fuyuki, alright? No more running into other Visual Novels. Sometimes, they don’t even help you, you know. I’ve heard that the newest Visual Novel doesn’t have a hint corner, so be careful~
